#and they reflect way too much of me and i hate it

[drdemonprince]

sorry if this is too long but i really appreciate your perspective and would love some advice

i have a mixed gender friend group irl, however i am the only transmasc in the group (the rest of the group is queer transfems, queer cis women, and our token cishet guy) and ive run into a little issue in that im quite close to one of the cis girls of the group, and we occasionally have deep chats about our queer identities (we're both aro, im ace, shes bi) . these chats are great and i really appreciate her as a friend but one thing shes always bringing up, even in unrealted conversations is how much she hates men .

im not a transandrobro so this isn't gonna be one of those "im one of the good ones" or "i feel guilty for being transmasc" asks dw. the issue came up when i was discussing how i was going to start T pretty soon (i pass decently well without it already but as more of a butch/androgynous type look) and as we were talking about the changes she was acting... genuinley scared and disgusted??

especially when i talked about how i will likely grow more body hair, and how T affects scent and stuff. she was almost horrified. "yeah but you dont want that right? youll shave it?" . i already dont shave my body hair (she does) and i cant help but feel scared that one of my closest friends is going to find me revolting once i start transitioning medically.

i didnt even mention bottom growth after that because i was so scared of what her reaction to that would be.

idk if you have any experience or advice for this? or any reading on the subject? ive found that its only the cis women in my friend group who are acting this way as well. i feel like maybe its because theyve secretly been viewing me as "just" a masculine woman this whole time. i id as nonbinary with the group, but secretly i really do think im a trans man, but based on the disgust with those things im reluctant to come out again.

Honestly this is a really common way that cis women microaggress against trans mascs! Those two identities have competing privilege/oppression intersections and a lot of really wild shit can play out as a result, as well as due to the projection that can happen because both groups have shared a social identity at some point (whether we liked it or not). It may not be fixable, but I think you need to set the tone that this kind of negative commentary on your transition and body is NOT acceptable, and to do so EARLY, so that you are establishing ground rules for how you will be treated.

Example conversation:

You: So I started getting some hair on my neck around my Adam's apple.

Her: Ewwwww, but you're going to shave it right?

You: (pause and look at her seriously). Gender transition is something I'm very excited about and that's very good for me, you know. I am happy about everything that's happening and I hope that as my friend you would be happy for me too.

Let's say that she continues to be somewhat shitty about your transition multiple times. Here is how you might escalate without totally blowing your lid.

Her: Wow, your [voice is so deep/your acne is getting so bad/your hair pattern is changing/whatever thing she is being shitty about].

You: (stop whatever task you're doing if any to give this full attention. lock eyes with her, maybe even sigh). I have told you multiple times not to comment on my appearance. It makes me very uncomfortable. I don't enjoy spending time with people who comment on how I look.

I think your focus should be not on correcting her feelings, which she needs to go like stare at a pond and reflect about on her own, but instead reign in her shitty commentary completely -- and if she won't do that for you, then you will need start ending conversations/walking away/not inviting her to things/whatever other boundary setting strategy you like. I would prioritize nipping the personal comments in the bud over the "men are so disgusting and evil" kind of commentary, because I think that matters more and seems to bother you more -- but if it were me? I would also be pissed that she wasn't including me in the category of "men" when she was talking about them, and would say things like "I'm a man too, you know." Or "Yeah, WE can be kind of annoying/boorish/smelly sometimes." This isn't some transandrobro NOT ALL MEN thing, it's an anti-transphobia don't misgender me thing. And perhaps by taking accountability for all that manhood is -- the good and the bad, the euphoric and the just neutral, you will influence her in a positive way to think about these things more neutrally. If not, well, that's her fuckin loss.

[starset21]

The Gala

So I originally posted this as an x oc so if it seems familiar thats why but I have been proven multiple times over that x reader just seems to do better on this hellsite (that we love). So since I didn't really use that many actual descriptions of how she looked I figured I'd just attempt to do this instead.

Standard disclaimer: I do not consent to the posting, translating, or publishing of my work to any 3rd party site, the only place it may currently be found is on tumblr and Ao3. This is all fake. It does not reflect real people, real events or their actual actions or relationships.

WC: 2.5k

Summery: Charles thinks she's been working to hard, what better way to get her to relax other than taking her with him to a gala?

“Hey, y/n.” She turned to the man she now considered one of her closest friends since moving abroad. “Yes Cha?” she replies. “I’ve been thinking. You’ve been... working hard, you know? Trying to hold everything together. You deserve a break,” his voice was casual but there was a glimmer of something more behind it. She blinked at him as though he’d just spoken a different language. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you need to get out of here. You’ve been on autopilot for months now, handling everything with Callum, with your parents... You’re not going to be any good to him if you don’t take care of yourself too.” Charles took a step closer, his gaze softening. “I think you should come with me to this gala tonight.” She hesitated, feeling the familiar wave of guilt wash over her. “I don’t know. I’ve got so much to do.” Charles sighed, a knowing look crossing his face. “You’re not going to be any help to him if you’re burning yourself out. Trust me. You’re still you. You’re still y/n—not just Callum’s sister or the caretaker. You deserve a little bit of time to breathe. Just a night. For you.” She glanced down at her phone again, the weight of her responsibilities pulling her in every direction. But something in Charles’s tone made her pause. 

He was right, as much as she hated to admit it. She hadn’t taken time for herself in ages—hell, since before the accident. Everything had become about Callum, about their future, and trying to keep up the semblance of normality. “I know you’ve got a lot on your plate,” Charles added, his voice softer now, “but I’m not going to let you turn into a robot. You need this. Callum will be fine.” She rubbed her forehead, exhaustion pressing against her temples. But she knew Charles had a point. A part of her longed for the break, even if it meant stepping away for a few hours. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, a voice interrupted from the doorway. 

“Are you seriously thinking of turning this down?” Callum’s voice was light, but there was a sharpness to it, an edge that made her look up. Callum was standing in the kitchen entrance, arms crossed, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. "I swear, you need to go. You’ve been cooped up in this house for too long, just... being everything to everyone else. You deserve one night to yourself. You deserve to live a little." Her heart softened at his words, but she still felt torn. “I just... I’m not sure. What about you?” Callum shrugged, his expression serious but affectionate. “I’ll be fine. You’ve been doing so much for me lately, but you can’t just give and give without taking something back for yourself. Go. Have some fun. I'll hold down the fort here.” 

Her eyes met his, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she saw a glimmer of the young boy she used to know—the one who, even in the midst of their tragedy, still had the heart to look out for her. “I’ll be okay, sis. Go. I want you to. Just... take care of yourself for once.” The sincerity in his voice made her chest tighten. She felt a wave of emotion, a mixture of pride for how much Callum had matured in such a short time, and guilt that she had been neglecting herself. Charles leaned against the counter, watching the exchange with a quiet smile. "See? Even he thinks you should go. And when was the last time you listened to him?" He raised an eyebrow playfully. She sighed, but a small smile tugged at her lips. “Fine. I’ll go. But you both owe me for this.” Callum threw his hands up in mock surrender, grinning. “Deal. Just go have some fun. You deserve it.” With one last glance at her brother, she nodded, a mixture of gratitude and guilt still sitting in her chest, but she knew she needed this. For herself. For her future.

The grand ballroom glittered with golden chandeliers and crystal glasses, the soft murmur of voices blending with the clink of fine china and the hum of classical music playing faintly in the background. The event was everything she had expected—a world of dazzling luxury and elegance. But here, amidst the high-profile crowd of Formula 1 drivers, team owners, and industry elites, she felt like an outsider. She tugged nervously at the sleeve of her dress, trying to keep her composure, but it was a struggle. In the months since her parents’ death, she had been completely immersed in the chaos of adjusting to her new life, trying to support Callum, taking on responsibilities she wasn’t ready for. The thought of attending this event, surrounded by people who were practically strangers, felt like an impossible task.

Yet here she was, trying to enjoy a night off—something Callum had practically pushed her into, his voice still ringing in her head. “You deserve this. Just go, have fun. I’ll be fine. You’re always doing stuff for me. Take a break. You need it.” It was hard to let go of the worry, but she knew he was right. She couldn’t be the caregiver and the grieving sister all the time. She had to let herself breathe, even if it was just for one night. Her eyes scanned the room, taking in the faces she’d only seen on TV—the stars of the motorsport world, all polished and perfected, conversing effortlessly. She felt small in this world of money, fame, and racing legends. She wasn’t used to this, wasn’t prepared for the kind of person she had to become here in this strange new life.

"How are you doing, y/n?" Charles Leclerc’s voice broke through her thoughts, pulling her from her overwhelming wave of self-doubt. She turned to find him standing beside her, his warm smile like a beacon in the crowd of strangers. Charles had become a comforting presence since her arrival in the world of motorsport. He made this world feel just a little bit smaller, a little bit more manageable. "Honestly? I’m a little overwhelmed," she confessed, offering a shy smile. "This is a lot." Charles grinned. "Yeah, it can be, especially if you’re not used to it. But you’re doing just fine. Relax, enjoy the night. You’re my guest, not a member of the press. You don’t need to know every detail about racing to fit in here."

She gave a soft laugh, feeling some of the tension release from her shoulders. "That’s a relief. I wasn’t sure how to act, honestly." Charles chuckled. "That’s the thing about these events. People think you have to put on some perfect version of yourself, but it’s just about having a good time. Let me introduce you to a few people."

Charles guided her through the crowd with ease, his friendly demeanor making each interaction seem effortless. He introduced her to a few engineers, some team owners, and even a few drivers, but it was clear that he was focused on making sure she didn’t feel like just a wallflower. As he steered her toward more familiar faces in the motorsport world, she started to find her rhythm. “See? You’re doing great,” Charles said with a playful grin as they stopped by a small group of people who appeared deep in conversation. “I guess it’s not as bad as I thought,” she replied, her confidence growing. Her mind had still been racing earlier, worried about her responsibilities back home, but talking with people who were genuinely kind was making her feel more at ease.

The hum of the crowd suddenly dropped, and the air in the room shifted. The whispers and hushed voices grew louder as eyes turned toward the entrance. And then, she saw him.

Max Verstappen.

It was as though he had entered a new dimension—his presence commanded immediate attention. Tall, lean, with a presence that was undeniable even in a room full of famous faces, Max had that quality that made him stand out. His sharp features and intense blue eyes locked onto people as he walked through the crowd, his confidence palpable. She felt a pang of nervousness that she couldn’t quite explain. It wasn’t just that he was one of the most successful drivers in Formula 1, it was that he had an aura about him, something magnetic. Her heart beat a little faster as her gaze followed him. She’d heard stories, seen the clips. He was an enigma—strong, talented, fiercely competitive.

"Ah, there he is," Charles said, his voice warm but with a touch of amusement. "Let’s go say hello." Before she could even gather her thoughts, Charles was already walking in Max's direction, guiding her through the crowd with ease. Despite the nervousness still brewing in her stomach, she followed. This wasn’t something she had expected when she agreed to come tonight but here she was. They approached, and Charles greeted Max like an old friend, slapping him on the back with a genuine smile. “Max, my friend! It’s been too long.” Max turned, giving Charles a friendly grin before acknowledging him with a firm handshake. "Good to see you, Charles. Busy as ever, I assume?" Charles shrugged. "Of Course. But enough about me. Let me introduce you to y/n." Max's eyes turned to her, and she could feel the shift in his attention. His gaze was calm, almost calculating, but with an undeniable warmth.

"y/n, huh?" he said, extending a hand, his tone relaxed. "Nice to meet you. I’ve heard many things about you." She glanced at Charles with a wary look, suddenly self-conscious under the weight of the conversation. Charles, ever the easygoing friend, gave her a reassuring smile, clearly aware of her unease. Max’s eyes twinkled, adding, “All good things, I promise.” She hesitated before shaking his hand, feeling the coolness of his grip. He was as calm and composed as she had imagined, but the warmth in his gaze made her feel like she was speaking to someone who wasn’t as untouchable as he seemed on TV. “Nice to meet you too, Max,” she said, trying to sound more at ease than she felt. Max’s smile widened, as though he could sense her wariness. “Don’t worry, I won’t bite,” he teased lightly, his voice smooth but with a playful edge.

She couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. The tension that had been coiling inside her loosened just a little. “Good to know,” she replied, still trying to catch her breath from the initial surprise of meeting him. “So, what brings you to all this glamour tonight?” Max asked, his gaze drifting over the room full of buzzing conversations, flashing cameras, and well-dressed guests. She shrugged, feeling a bit out of place amidst the opulence. “Honestly, I’m here because Charles insisted,” she said, nodding toward the man who had now moved on to talking with some sponsor. “He’s been pushing me to take a break. I’ve been... handling a lot lately. I think he figured I needed something different for a change.”

Max’s expression softened at her words. “That makes sense. Life can get overwhelming, can’t it?” His tone shifted, the earlier playfulness replaced by something a little more grounded. "You’re not alone in that." She blinked, taken aback by how understanding he seemed. Most people, especially in this world of high-profile events, rarely took the time to actually listen. But Max wasn’t like most people. “Between my brother and everything else, I just... I’m not sure how to switch off sometimes,” she admitted, her voice softening. Max’s eyes locked onto hers, a quiet understanding passing between them. “It’s okay to not have everything figured out, you know?” he said gently, his words almost like a reassurance. “Sometimes, you have to let go of the idea that you need to control everything. It doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human.”

She swallowed, feeling a lump form in her throat. There was something about his words that hit close to home—something she had been trying to ignore for weeks. It had been hard for her to allow herself to not be in control after the loss of her parents, but hearing Max say it out loud made her realize just how much she had been holding onto that control as a way of surviving. “It’s like if I don’t keep everything together, then... everything will fall apart.” She let out a breath, feeling the weight of the past few months settle heavily in her chest. “I’m still figuring out how to not be so... tightly wound.” Max’s gaze softened. “I get it. I’ve been there too,” he said, his voice carrying a quiet strength. “You just have to trust that even if things fall apart, you’ll still be okay. And maybe, just maybe, you won’t have to do it all alone.”

She nodded, unsure of how to respond. His words felt like a lifeline, something she had desperately needed to hear but hadn’t been ready for until now. There was something about Max that made her feel like she wasn’t as isolated in her struggles as she often thought. “I’ll try to remember that,” she said quietly, her eyes briefly meeting his. The air between them seemed to settle into a comfortable silence, one that didn’t feel forced or awkward. For the first time that night, she didn’t feel the weight of her responsibilities pressing down on her. Max broke the silence, leaning slightly toward her with a grin. “Well, if you’re ever in need of a distraction, I’m pretty good at keeping things light. I mean, it’s not all racing all the time. I’ve got a few other talents up my sleeve.” She couldn’t help but laugh at the sudden shift in tone. “I’m intrigued. What else are you good at?” Max’s grin widened, clearly enjoying the exchange. “I make a mean coffee. You’d be surprised how many people underestimate my barista skills.”

“Barista skills?” She raised an eyebrow, genuinely amused. “Now that’s something I have to see.” Max shrugged playfully, his smile remaining in place, “maybe I’ll take you up on that offer sometime,” he said, his voice lighter now. "No racing talk—promise." She chuckled. “I’ll hold you to that.” As they continued to chat, the initial tension that had held her back melted away. There was something refreshing about Max’s down-to-earth attitude. He didn’t feel like a superstar; he felt like someone who had seen his share of struggles and had come out the other side, still managing to find humor and joy in the little things.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter, light conversation, and stories shared. She found herself drawn into the warmth of the moment, something she hadn’t allowed herself in what felt like forever. She wasn’t sure where this connection with Max was going—whether it was just a friendly conversation at a gala or something more—but for now, it was enough to simply be in the moment, talking with someone who seemed to understand.

[nuhuh-yuhuhfum]

Guys I swear I will post doodles soon but hear me out on this song idea/analysis like last time

Thanks, I Hate It by Simple Creatures but it's about Starscream 's and Megatron's relationship (not romantically unless you view it as such) from Starscream's pov.

"Am I good enough for you" portrays that no matter how he acts, loyal, disloyal, submissive or resistant Megatron will always seek the opposite or still view it and therefore him as disgusting making him the perfect punching bag simply for Megatron's very own amusement. In every universe, with the main ones with this problem being armada and prime, he gets treated as somebody with potential by Megatron yet he also denies Starscream that growth.

"I don't owe you anything" is something that Starscream himself would only think in his anger towards Megatron but may have only truly processed those words as true after the war (in the versions he survives for a bit after, such as him in the Windblade comics). This reflects how he -and every other abuse victim- doesn't and shouldn't offer their abuser anything no matter how much your life is centred and controlled by them, they don't deserve you.

"But I gave you everything" shows the fact that Starscream sometimes and maybe in the beginning of everything did try so hard to please Megatron. But he didn't need to do all of that as it only buried the hole he was getting swallowed by even larger and more difficult to escape from.

"Watch you pile it up and sing - Thanks I hate it" summarises Megatron's mentality and actions when it comes down to Starscream. Megatron will rarely accept something he gives and when he does praise is rarely given which may mirror any abusive relationship (I view it as an abusive adopted Father and their dysfunctional son that becomes even worse with the abuse - though see it however you want).

"No you're never satisfied" is Megatron's constant berating and thirst of Starscream's agony.

"Now you wanna run and hide" resembles how in the many times Megatron has been redeemed he has never apologised to the person he influenced and corrupted the most. The exception of this was Earthspark but even then Megatron was warning everyone how Starscream is worse than he ever was. He showed care for the other decepticons well being yet was inconsiderate of Starscream's. He's too scared to face the truth of his actions or view it as important to his path to peace, therefore hiding himself from his second in command as if everything will be dropped and sorted out.

The point is- Starscream should be accountable for his actions only if Megatron will be as well and if we brush everything he's done then we should do the same for Starscream. Yet Megatron should still face him either way if he truly is a "good guy". Starscream deserves that closure even though he thinks that killing and taking his place will ease everything it wouldn't.

[stars-n-spice]

This season is so fucking wild to me and I want to physicalize it so I can gnaw on it but,,

It hurts so bad to watch it as an older sibling of five because I know how much pressure is on Hunter (and even more so because not only is he the older brother but also the leader, which arguably have different responsibilities tied to them) and how he probably blames himself about everything that's happened,, because that feeling of guilt and feeling like you've failed as the oldest child is,,, lemme tell you man,, that shit?? not going to lie,, sometimes it's like my 13th reason and I don't wanna see Hunter break because of it. I want the man to get some rest and reassurance,, man,, I just,,,

And it also hurts to watch it as a perpetual outcast and loner who never felt like people stuck around and always felt like they were going to be the second choice because holy FUCK man,,, Crosshair,,, just,,, I just need him to feel,, to feel whole and welcomed and accepted and loved and cared for and all the things I so desperately crave from people I was so utterly dedicated and loyal to and just UGGHHEHHEUUHH

Oh and let's not even START on watching this as those two things AND a former gifted child.

and sometimes i wonder why the hell I love this show so much-

[helmarok]

romeo roleplaying as his favorite OC to beat the shit out of his other OC who he hates very much

[lupins-hehim-pussy]

I wanna know ur Fontaine msq criticisms 👁️👁️👂I’m all ears

I'm not sure if you wanted me to talk about this secretly or publicly but! Here I go!

The TLDR: Fontaine MSQ aestheticised prison, poverty, child abuse, the justice system/court and didn't properly address any of it.

More:

Focalors/Furina has way too much of a sympathetic angle for a dictator who's lets people drown with her inaction.

Neuvillette feels Bad for sentencing some people to death/prison, but that's it. He's one of the most powerful people in Fontaine. If he felt like there are systemic injustices, I.E sending an abused Child to prison, he should be the first person to DO something about it, not just cry and be sad so the audience can be like aw, that's complex character writing isn't it? No it's not! And guilt doesn't absolve you!!!!!!! (These are stuff we deal with in OTCOJ read my fic now /j)

Meropide has children in it, both Sentenced there (Wriothesley) and BORN THERE (Lanoire), and this is just a quirk of the place. Not only that, Meropide accepts prisoners of all genders and crimes. There are abusers and abuse victims in one place. Do you know how bad that is? How much potential for crimes to happen in a place like that— oh wait, Meropide isn't under Fontaine's jurisdiction. If you are assaulted as an inmate it literally means nothing to the court.

Wriothesley had no qualifications when he took over. Depending on how long he lived on the streets, how old he was when he killed his parents, how old he was when he was first taken in by the orphanage, etc, the man might never have more than 4–5 years of formal education. Sigewinne probably had to teach him how to write reports. And do Meropide's spreadsheets. Edit because I forgot to elaborate on this one: This isn't a point brought up anywhere, which is bad, because when poverty and incarceration robs you of a proper education (and the rights to vote in many places too, too, by the way), it reduces your prospects for jobs, reduces many people's ability to get a home etc etc. Wriothesley was just, narratively, Given his position.

Meropide is an industrialized prison, and they portray this as a good thing. Prisoners are paid in coupons for their labour, and this is also portrayed as a good thing.

The One-Meal-A-Day reform was something Paimon gushed about being so great of a perk, that people might want to go to jail for food (could be interesting and reflective of systemic poverty if MHY had brains, but they don't, so I was just Pissed because essentially all Paimon wanted to say was "Prison isn't so bad, but still don't go to prison guys! Prison labour is really hard!"). By the way, in most real-world prisons they are obligated to feed you three meals a day. Because that's how much food a human needs. MHY went with one meal just so they can say "if you want to eat more, you have to work." And then the welfare meal is a goddamn gacha. So imagine you're a starving child who's too weak to work in the fucking robot assembly line, and you wander up for your first meal in 24 hours, only to luck in with a shit one. I'd kill myself.

They wrote Wriothesley, who's a victim of the system, into a guy who's say shit like "I'm the Duke I can do whatever I want" for a cool moment where he choke-slams an inmate (I know he was a bad guy. But also, in copaganda when cops are violent/disregarding protocols, they are always only portrayed to do that against bad guys, so what does our critical thinking tells us about this one?) They wrote Wriothesley, who was an inmate of a prison so bad, so notorious that it is the literal boogeyman of Fontaine, that has a legal (???) fighting pit, with an administrator who abuses his position to be unreasonable, to willingly stay in the place and become an Administrator who would choke-slam an inmate while saying a cool line about how he has the power to do whatever he wants. They wrote him, the guy who had to be fed on the streets by melusines, to think one-meal-a-day was a good enough reform (while he spends god-knows how much on his boat). This wasn't a victim-turns-into-abuser narrative either, they want all this to be seen as positive character growth.

And then, the final kicker is, they gloss over his entire abuse. You can only read about these shit in his profile, which most people don't because they don't Have Him or doesn't care to unlock it/read it online, and they jammed his entire backstory into a flaccid info-dump at the end of his character story quest. This man isn't Allowed to feel abused and neglected and show any reaction to it within the narrative of Fontaine itself, because if they actually Gave Weight to what happened to him, they'd have to confront THE FUCKING JUSTICE SYSTEM they had NO PLANS on criticising. I don't think they ever explicitly said the fucking Crime-Theatre nonsense was Bad either.

I could go on, but this is already so long. But yeah, I hope this gave you an idea.

[good-beanswrites]

A little something featuring Fuuta and Es after talking about their criminal lack of interaction in fanworks with @waivyjellyfish ! You had such awesome ideas (a few of which I'm still bouncing around in my head to post at some point,) but this one ended up taking over my brain -- I hope you enjoy 😅 Attempting to answer the widely-debated question:

“Oi, why didn’t you hit me?”

Es looked up from their paperwork.

“Prisoner number three. Most people are glad when they’re not struck.”

“Well, I’m not.” 

Es usually left the door open at this hour, in case anyone had any last-minute complaints before curfew. No one usually took them up on the offer. They figured that if there was any prisoner they could count on to complain, it would be Fuuta marching through their door.

“You hit all the other guys. You even hit some of the girls that were giving you trouble. So what? You think I’m too weak? You think I can’t take it?” Fuuta spread his arms. “I can, so show me what you’ve got!”

Es sighed. They put down their pen. They folded their gloved hands together, resting their chin on top. “Fuuta, I’m not going to hit you.”

“Why not?”

“As of right now, I have no reason to. If you’re referring to the interrogations…”

They reflected on the first one they'd shared with him. To be fair, the thought had crossed their mind. It would have been satisfying to give this rowdy prisoner a taste of his own medicine – striking him after such a dramatic charge at them. But Es was always good at reading people. It didn’t take them long to understand Fuuta was the type to lash out first and ask questions later. In fact, that was likely what had landed him in Milgram in the first place. 

Although Es knew they weren’t here to do any reformation, they wanted to try to show these prisoners where they’d gone wrong. So, they resolved to act as the bigger person. They’d prove that senseless violence was just that. By keeping their composure, they’d show Fuuta just how childish he was being. 

That wasn’t my only reason. I guess that's true, my actions weren’t all purely righteous. I still spent the entire time looking for ways to make him squirm… But it wasn’t all cruelty. I really did want to understand. I wanted to help. That counts for something, right?

Es never struck the prisoners out of anger, or as a petty show of power. It was a way to force the prisoner to mind their ego. When they’d gotten a bit too full of themselves, a bit too comfortable with the awful deed they’d committed, Es’ blow encouraged them to feel a bit more humility and guilt. 

By the time the second trial arrived, Fuuta oozed guilt. 

The moment Es entered the interrogation room, it was clear that he needed no lesson in humility. He hugged his arms to his chest. His remaining eye darted around the room in thinly-veiled hysteria. His voice trembled when he spoke. It didn’t require any people-reading skills to hear the remorse that underlaid all of his accusations and threats.

Hitting the others felt like giving a dog a tap on the nose after breaking a rule. Meanwhile, Fuuta snapped and snarled like a stray who’d been kicked time and time again.

Of course, he could never know any of this. Any way Es phrased it, Fuuta would misunderstand it as pity.

Well, wasn’t it? I thought he looked like a kicked puppy – that sounds a lot like pity. No, it was out of respect. Does that mean I didn’t respect the prisoners I did hit? No. I respected them too. Then, what’s the difference?

Fuuta was still staring at them, asking the very same question. What’s the difference?

“Each of Milgram’s prisoners is unique.” 

They were met with an unimpressed glare.

Es chose their words carefully. “Each one responds best to a variety of treatments. Some need attention to be comfortable, while others need time. Some need validation in order to confess. Others, a bit of debate does the trick. Some need a show of force. You –” remind me too much of myself  “– require something else. I’ve learned to change my approach depending on the person I’m dealing with.”

Fuuta’s features flashed with confusion, then shame, then his usual mask of anger. “Tch. How pathetic.”

“Excuse me?”

“So you just change your personality when it’s convenient? You put up fake smiles and fake attitude? Have some balls and just be yourself.”

Es was caught by surprise. “... I am. Those are all pieces of myself. I choose to bring out different parts when it would be most helpful.” 

“Sounds manipulative as hell to me.” 

It makes sense he doesn’t understand. He’s a very clear-cut person, with every aspect of his personality lining up in a way that makes sense. I find that predictability fun. Or, is it something that I envy? Could it be both?

They had no time to dwell on it, as Fuuta was struck with an idea. “Though, if you can do it on command, why don’t you give me the ‘you’ that wants to hit someone?” 

He spread his arms once more, hands gesturing to his chest. Es pretended not to notice him wince. They remained in their seat. 

“What are you waiting for? Hit me!” 

“I will not.”

“You just said you can change your personality on a whim, so let’s see it!” 

“That is not what I said.”

His good eye began to look frenzied. He raised his voice. “You scared? The big bad warden of Milgram, nothing but a big coward!”

“Stop this. You’re acting childish.”

“No! You’re treating me childishly! Let me see the Es that kicked Shidou! The one that slapped Kazui! Treat me like you treated them!”

“I hit them because they said something stupid. They deserved it.”

“Are you fucking kidding? I deserve it too! I deserve it! Come on!”

At the last word, his voice broke. He stumbled to his knees. He let his head drop. He sucked in strained breath after strained breath. Shidou would surely give him a lecture about getting so worked up with his injuries. 

Es finally stood.

They made their way around the desk. They knelt on the floor in front of him. 

“Why?” he wheezed. “Tell me…”

“Fuuta.” 

Should I just go ahead and do it, just to make him happy? No, I want to talk it out. But what do even I say? I'll tell him that I care. I can’t. None of the prisoners understand that I care. Why? Why is it so hard for them to see? I’m trying my best, why can’t they see? 

Es extended their hand carefully. They didn’t know what they hoped to accomplish, but in that moment their thoughts were too loud and conflicting. They needed to do something.

Fuuta saw the gentle intention, and immediately raised his own hand to strike. It froze midair, though whether it was from Milgram’s restrictions or his own hesitation, Es would never know.

Neither of their gestures connected.

Footsteps. Then Yuno’s voice, hesitantly from the doorway. “We heard shouting, is everything alright in here?”

Es retracted their hand.  A beat. Fuuta dropped his, too. 

“Yuno. Yes, we’re fine. Fuuta was just heading to bed. I’m going to walk him to his cell.”

“I can handle myself.”

“I said, I’m going to walk him to his cell.” 

Es stood, nodding to Yuno. When she’d gone, they turned their attention back to the prisoner crumpled on the ground. They made an effort to quiet their ever-racing thoughts. 

“Listen. I know you can handle yourself. I’m not doing this because I think you’re weak. You’re strong. Don’t think for a moment that I don’t see that.”

They held out their arm to help him up. He didn’t move.

“Sometimes you are a bit too strong, if you ask me. I mean, picking fights with your prison warden, really?” They clicked their tongue. “You should be grateful for a superior that gives you second chances.”

At last, Fuuta  took their hand. He avoided meeting their eyes, but his voice had softened considerably from his rant. “The only thing you give me is a headache.”

Es offered a dry smile as they pulled him to his feet. “The feeling is mutual.”

[transmascutena]

thinking about how akio sees his younger self in utena and wondering if there's any fondness there. doesn't change the horror of what he does to her obviously but i do wonder

[ccbatman]

actually so evil how much of hal's internal world gets obliterated with the rewriting of his relationships with jessica and martin.

[kyofsonder]

Brain in Daylight Hours: There is no mental or emotional space for writing. There are no new ideas, and no structure for old ideas.

Brain after Dark: Here's 38 new ideas, 3/4 of a structure, official permission to write, and -- oh. The only place to write in the dark is your phone? ... Never mind.

[crossbackpoke-check]

find a blorbo (nhl tag game)

RULES: Go through the roster of each NHL team and find at least one player that you can root for.

tagged by @bondedpairs!! when i say too many teams to count and here for the narrative um. i may not have lied. this is not an extensive list of my blorbos but in order to make it not ten thousand years long i made up the rule that i had to do it straight from memory :)

anaheim ducks: as evidenced by recent events i DO like mason mctavish and trevor zegras but i have to honor laura and mention troy terry and beloved goalie gibbie*

boston bruins: oh for sure brad marchand… can i say patrice? one of the charlies got traded but i think mcavoy is still there because gryz is gone, brandon carlo is there still i think

buffalo sabres: cozens & thompson, owen power, rasmus dahlin, ukko pekka luukkonen

calgary flames: is chris tanev still here? is markstrom still here?? noah hanifin?? as a last resort i’ll say blasty

carolina hurricanes: aho & jarvy & teuvo teravainen & brent burns is still playing maybe? i know sepe got traded

chicago hockey: the bedsy narrative is compelling but ANDREAS ATHANASIOU MY BELOVED reunited with tyler bertuzzi… that’s the real story. also i like foligno

colorado avalanche: gabe landeskog, whatever ross colton & miles wood have going on, natemac + jo, mikko

columbus blue jackets: have long been on the merzlikins train, have been swayed to the darkside of umich boys (brindley, kent johnson, fantilli, blankenburg who is now on nsh)

dallas stars: seggy! mush! roope + miro and otter and robo and wyjo (rip ty dellandrea) and harls! etc.

detroit red wings: MOST players. dilly larks, moritz seider, jv, raymond, rasmussen, kitty, lyon, etc except for k*ne

edmonton oilers: mcdrai, ofc. nugent-hopkins, nursey, rip vinny & skinny

florida panthers: tkachuk, reinhardt, sasha barkov, verhaeghe (is there still?)

los angeles kings: adrian kempe… kevin fiala… danault… quinton byfield & alex turcotte

minnesota wild: kirill, marat, fleury, brodes, fabes, boldy, moose, middsy, spurge… god’s perfect idiots

montreal canadiens: going out on a limb here to say martin st. louis but also xhekaj (both), slafkovský, suzuki, my austrian reinbacher, yes fine cole caufield

nashville predators: MOST BEAUTIFUL D PAIR IN THE WORLD GRADY SKJEI AND ROMAN JOSI!! juuse, evangelista, isn’t stamkos there and also someone else who absolutely should not be

new jersey devils: nico… tuna (tatar), dawson mercer, siegenthaler, dougie hamilton, yes the hugheses whatever

new york islanders: barzy, zeeker & marty, anders lee, noah dobson lol

new york rangers: mika & chris, lafrenière & k’andre, shesterkin

philadelphia flyers: frosty & beezer and tk and sanny and the new baby michkov and coots and scooty loots and foerster etc etc. you know the Guys

pittsburgh penguins: the two headed monster but also compelled by rutger mcgroarty, and kevin hayes was there!!!

ottawa senators: timmy stü & brady! josh norris! the evolution of shane pinto! ullmark now and brännström and claude giroux and chabot

san jose sharks: ekky, thrun, mario, borde, logan couture, shakir, that other vaguely blond rookie

seattle kraken: brandon tanev, andre burakovsky! grubauer & d’accord also

st. louis blues: jordan kyrou, nathan walker (is still there?), rob thomas? is parayako still there?

tampa bay lightning: hedman, point, they dumped so many guys after the cup run… is kucherov still there or is he in nashville?? anthony cirelli (notable for being made out with by pat maroon)

toronto maple leafs: mitch, jt, willy, alex nylander, kniesy, dewar, et

utah hockey: crouse, keller, tuba

vancouver canucks: quinn, brock, petey, jt, garly, höggy, i want to say dakota johnson, elias lindholm?

vegas golden knights: brandon montour is here now… alex pietrangelo, so sorry to one i can’t remember who loves the lions it will come back to me

washington capitals: full of love and stupidity. oshie, nicke/ovi, pierre-luc dubois, dowd, vrána, milano

winnipeg jets: adam lowry!! josh morissey and kc and morgan barron, also vladdy my beloved

tagging @stillfertile + @colap1nto + @songsandswords + @moregraceful if they haven’t done it yet, i know they follow at least a couple teams. if anybody else wants to play i love adopting blorbos!!

[tleeaves]

Reclining on a fainting couch, hands laced together and resting over my stomach as I stare up at the ceiling. Why the fuck do I so frequently end up caught between being attracted to mean guys (and gals) but also the wife material guys? Duality of man is falling for both all the time, apparently, and never knowing which I actually genuinely like better.

I wrote out a whole theory about why I like mean people before I realised the logic no longer applied to my current circumstances/character and now I'm back at square one. Perhaps the real answer is as lame as: because I like a challenge and the idea that someone treats me Extra Special compared to how they treat others.

At the end of the day, idk.

[normalgirlatron]

just finished you (the BOOK!) and wow. yeah no the netflix show doesn’t portray any of this because it’d make people less attracted and sympathetic toward joe… great read but so disgusting. which is also a good sign

[theicarusconstellation]

.

[batking-lich]

"i'm not like those Other People, i only consume Unproblematic Media™ with Good Representation™ and i don't like Irredeemable Media™"

"i'm not like those Other People, i don't like this Sanitized Media™, i only like Real Art™ with Bad Messy Representation™"

you are literally the same people wearing different hats the only things you disagree about are what counts as bad media and what counts as good representation

[silverselfshippingchaos]

so in love with the idea of my f/os loving and supporting my sexuality