#Fan transformation

[tf-kinky]

Zane was the kind of fan who lived and breathed Timothée Chalamet. His walls were plastered with posters, his phone background was a candid shot from a premiere, and his social media feeds were dedicated solely to celebrating every moment of Timothée's career. So, when Zane won a contest to meet his idol backstage at a film festival, his excitement was beyond measure.

The meeting was brief but magical. Timothée was charming, his smile disarming, and he listened intently as Zane gushed about his favorite movies. Amidst the chatter, Zane mentioned his peculiar disgust for feet, the thought of which made him cringe even in conversation. Timothée noted this with an amused smirk, his mind already concocting a plan.

Inviting Zane back to his luxurious home under the guise of showing him some exclusive memorabilia, Timothée led the unsuspecting fan into a world of opulence. The house was everything Zane imagined and more, with art, books, and personal items scattered around, each telling a story of Timothée's life.

Once inside, Timothée revealed a gadget he jokingly called his "TF ray gun," explaining it was from a sci-fi movie prop he never got to use. Zane laughed, thinking it was part of the playful banter until Timothée pointed it at him and pulled the trigger.

In an instant, Zane's world twisted and shrank. His senses were overwhelmed as he felt his body morphing, his consciousness trapped within the very fabric of a pair of blue Converse sneakers. The transformation was not just physical; Timothée had ensured that Zane's senses were heightened to an excruciating degree.

Timothée slipped his feet into the new sneakers, and immediately, Zane was engulfed by sensations he had always loathed. The dampness of sweat, the musky scent, and the oppressive warmth of Timothée's feet soaked into what was now Zane's entire being. The pain was indescribable, each step Timothée took sending waves of agony through what was left of Zane's consciousness.

For Timothée, however, it was a delightful twist of fate. He admired how the shoes looked on him, feeling a perverse satisfaction in knowing that his fan was now serving a purpose, albeit in the most twisted way imaginable. He walked around, enjoying the comfort of the sneakers, never once contemplating reversing the transformation. Instead, he relished in the silent torment of his once-admirer, now forever bound to his feet.

As days turned into weeks, Timothée wore the sneakers often, each time reveling in the power he had over Zane, whose agony was his secret amusement. Zane, now sentient fabric, was trapped in a reality where every step was a reminder of his fanatical devotion turned into an eternal nightmare.

Once Zane felt the world shrink around him, he knew he was no longer himself. The transformation was disorienting, a swirl of colors and sensations until everything settled into a nightmarish reality: he had become a pair of blue Converse sneakers.

The first assault on his senses was the smell - potent, overwhelming, an acrid, musky odor that now defined his existence. Timothée's feet slid into him, and with that, Zane felt the warmth and dampness of sweat soaking through his fabric. Each step Timothée took was like a hammer strike to Zane's consciousness; the pressure of his foot against the insole was a constant reminder of his new, horrific purpose.

Zane could taste every drop of sweat, feel every grain of dirt that had found its way inside him. It was beyond disgust; it was torture. His senses, heightened to an unbearable degree, made every sensation agonizing. The pain was not just physical; it was the soul-crushing realization that his idol, the person he had admired from afar, had turned him into this object of convenience and amusement.

Days passed, or what Zane perceived as days, for time had lost all meaning. Each step Timothée took was a reminder of Zane's eternal sentence. He could hear Timothée's laughter, see through the tiny gaps in the shoe's design, witnessing the world from an utterly demeaning perspective. Timothée wore him to events, on casual strolls, and each environment brought a different kind of torment. The heat of summer made his feet sweat more, the cold of winter made the dampness chilling.

Zane longed for relief, for escape, but there was none. He was trapped, his only interaction with the world being through Timothée's feet. His every step was a sentence without parole. Zane could feel Timothée's satisfaction, his lack of remorse, as he moved about, never once considering Zane's plight.

In moments of solitude, when Timothée would take him off, there was no respite. The air was a slight relief, but the memory of Zane's former self, the fan who would never have imagined such an end, haunted him. He was now part of Timothée's life in the most literal, yet dehumanizing way, his existence reduced to serving his feet.

As weeks turned into months, any hope of returning to his old life faded. He was no longer Zane, the fan; he was Zane, the sneakers. His identity, his dreams, his admiration, all had been transmuted into this endless, silent suffering, a grotesque parody of what he once thought was devotion. Every day was a new lesson in agony, and every step Timothée took was a further step away from any semblance of humanity Zane once knew.

[mzwraum]

Okay okay, I can explain this, using Barthes. Barthes says in S/Z that texts can be “readerly” and “writerly” (that’s the official translation, technically it would be “readable” and “writeable”). Readerly/readable means the text is composed in such a way that its consumption is passive. It is complete, perfectly logical, there are no “gaps” to fill on the side of the audience. It’s easy, it’s pleasurable (and in his opinion the better version).

Writerly/writable text is the opposite. It requires you to think and to take an active role in making sense of it and bringing about meaning. The consumption of the text requires work and is much more up to individual interpretations. The text is incomplete, the gaps must be filled by the audience.

So yeah, what this post is describing is the difference between those two concepts, really.

And while I do like Barthes a lot, I respectfully disagree. Writerly/writable text is so much more fun.

stating to think there’s an inverse correlation between how good media is and how easily fandomizable it is 😁

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

the highguard meet their biggest fan

[jaradraws]

‘Cause I was born with a hole in my heart Yeah, we were fucked from the start Tell me it’s inevitable that I’d End up with scars from falling Down, down We were always meant to fall apart

[ukiyoebirds]

Dreadwing did not, in fact, understand the assignment.

Megatron is ringmaster of a clown circus and only Soundwave went to a professional clown college.

May need to click on the image for better resolution.

Joke workshopped with @krazycat6167

[bloom-agreste-cheng]

Cute

Bloom in my fan-transformation called Healix

[cani-bal]

evil

[blueey-jayzilla]

soundwave based on 2000s disc player

Shockwave based on 1960s tech and an oscilloscope

[salmonpiffy]

Damn bro, you got the whole squad laughing

[zorangezest]

you guys are never gonna guess what i watched recently

IVE ACCUMULATED SO MANY

[koumori-1999]

silly continuity crossover doodle because i'm not immune to the multiverse trend

he's still emo about his own ratchet, don't judge him.

[sshikazul]

[vitreouspositive]

optimus "i can fix him" prime

vs megatron's "i can make him worse"

[hg80]

Breakbee!!!!!!!!

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

the high guards littlest fan