#but the fact there are hundreds of you subscribed to either me or one of my fics is super humbling.

[purgaytorysupremacy]

i just hit 2,000 total kudos on my ao3 account and considering I posted my first fic in July 2022 and am the furthest thing from prolific/consistent, i'm feeling very grateful for the people who still read my nonsense

<3

[solarwynd]

https://www.tumblr.com/solarwynd/759628601339658240/fandom-is-messy-bc-as-much-as-i-sympathize-with?source=share

Exactly. I tired of this "He didn't do anything!" bullshit. He literally did something illegal. Was it as bad as some were making it out it to be? No. But I feel armys are almost taking advantage of the fact that some of the information that came out was false to pretend like everything was false. But he still did something wrong, that part is still very much true. He's being punished by the law for a reason. And it doesn't sit right with me the way armys are 'supporting' him. They're just trying to shield him from all accountability and coddling him like he's some innocent baby who didn't decide all own his own to drive while drunk. And it's one thing to defend him against lies, but it's another very different thing to essentially reward him for breaking the law. And how exactly is buying and streaming his old songs gonna fix the crime he committed? And isn't it sad that that this is the first time in over a year armys have cared about his music? And they don't even actually care, this is just the only thing armys know how to do. They just mindless stream and buy. I swear Jimin is the only member who's music people actually enjoy and not just listen to out of either obligation or a need for records to brag about.

And the fact that this 'support' armys are doing is at the expense of Jimin, someone who actually did nothing wrong? And that this is the second time that man has derailed a Jimin album release? And that armys are apparently so good at defending a member, unless that member is Jimin. That man can fuck up and have the entire fandom come to his defense, but Jimin (and his family) will do literally nothing wrong and the best he gets is the fandom downplaying the harassment he's being getting for over a fucking decade, trying to make it into a group thing when they know very well the hate the other's get have never been as vile, as insistent, as consistent, as insidious, as massive, as long lasting, etc as the hate Jimin gets. And that's the best he gets, cause at it's worse it's the actual fandom that's behind that hate. And armys can say all they want that "Those are not real armys!", but who are they then? Other solos, but especially tkkrs have hundreds of thousands of followers and subscribers, were did they come from? Every other day a known Jimin anti gets tens of thousands of likes because apparently armys don't bother to check Jimin report accounts. Most armys have interacted with these accounts. Most armys are either tkkrs themselves, or follow at least one. They're everywhere in the fandom, they're interacting with everyone in the fandom, their presence is tolarated in the fandom. And you wanna tell me they're "Not one of us" ? Shut the fuck up actually.

.🎯

[court-of-constellations]

Hello everyone!! I'm back with another post about my original universe, this time about nymphs!

This is even longer than the vampire one so the rambling is under the cut, and I was so tempted to include information about my inspiration for certain things and why I made the creative decisions I did, but I refrained because I wanted to keep this focused and not go off on tangents (however, if you do want to hear about that stuff, feel free to send me an ask at any time! I'm always happy to ramble about this universe!)

So. Nymphs. They're typically defined (by humans) as nature spirits, but what does that mean?

Well, the literal dictionary definition is "a spirit born from the earth or water; a being connected to the earth." Nymphs are, in short, personifications of nature. That's not to say that every little aspect of nature has a corresponding nymph- but there are several kinds of nymphs for several different types of nature.

Nymphs, as a whole, can be divided into two categories: land and water. There are a couple types of nymph that could fit into both categories, and one specific type of nymph that doesn't fit into either, but most nymphs can be clearly defined as one or the other.

Nymphs frequently spawn in areas with high magical concentration; why this is, nobody knows, and most other scholars have put it down to those areas being sacred in some way. These scholars are the same ones that hail nymphs as creations of the divine, made to safeguard the lands that are rightfully ours, so any conclusion of theirs must be taken with several grains of salt. I find that many scholars who subscribe to this field of thinking have never even seen a nymph in their lives, and assume that they are all perfectly like us humans (despite their appearances). This is a lie, one that continues to be retold despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary.

To understand nymphs, one must first understand that they are not human. They are sentient, intelligent, and quite interesting, but no matter how humanoid their shape might be, they are not and never will be even close to human beings. The exceptions to this rule will be covered later, but true nymphs are nature in its purest form: wild, unpredictable, and untameable. Like fairies, they operate on an entirely separate morality than humans, but unlike fairies, there are no clever tricks you can use to escape them, no set rules you may follow. If fairies are order, nymphs are chaos. If you should encounter a nymph, then by all means converse with them and befriend them if you like, but never forget that they are not the same as you, and no matter how benevolent they may seem, they could turn on you in an instant.

With all of this out of the way, let's finally get to the types of nymphs and their origins.

Land Nymphs

This category of nymph, as the name suggests, are tied to the land. There are several kinds of nymphs who fall under this category, and those nymphs have so many subspecies among them that if I listed them all, this text would be thicker than my torso.

Still, I shall endeavor to at least impress upon you the general idea of which nymphs come from where, so that you might know to use the correct terminology when describing to a friend and encounter you may have had in the woods or fields. Any further study into the subspecies can be found in other, more involved texts, ones whose authors were compensated enough to care about listing every type of nymph that could possibly be found in our lovely lands.

The first to be aware of are dryads, nymphs who have spawned from trees. It is unknown how long a tree must live before becoming a dryad, but this author suspects it to be somewhere in the hundreds, if only for the fact that cutting down younger trees has not as of yet brought a furious dryad out for my blood into my path. Should this change, this text will naturally be updated should I survive long enough to do so.

There are as many types of dryads as there are types of trees, and though there are certainly scientific names for each and every one, I personally have found that simply using the name of whichever tree they spawned from is quite sufficient. A dryad who spawned from an ash tree is an ash dryad, from an oak tree is an oak dryad and so on and so forth; I am quite sure I need not recount the name of every tree for the reader to understand my point.

True dryads, once born from whichever tree they are, are from then on about as attached to the tree as a human might be their parents; their personal feelings vary from nymph to nymph, but in terms of life force, they can and will live even if their tree has been cut down. Unlike humans, the only thing that can kill a true dryad is when the last trace of their tree has disappeared from this world; be it by decay or fire or a misplaced disintegration spell, once the tree is well and truly gone, so too is the dryad.

In terms of a dryad's appearance, their skin will be made out of the same bark as their tree, their hair the same leaves, their innards the same wood. Their eyes may have fruits or flowers in them depending on the tree and time of year, but they may simply be empty sockets. In any case, you should know a dryad at first sight, for unless walking trees are quite common in your place of residence, there's really nothing you can mistake them for.

I would give a description of a dryad's typical personality, as so many others have in their own texts, but my experiences with them have made me aware that they differ in personality as much as humans do; this holds true for all nymphs and I will not repeat such trite and blatantly untrue statements as "all dryads are nurturing, all naiads are mischievous," etc. That is my final statement on this matter and if I receive one more letter from my editor asking where the personality descriptions are, I swear I will-

(Editor's Note: The rest of this tirade had to be cut for its vulgarity and surprisingly creative threats towards me, my place of work, the scholars that continue to perpetuate these stereotypes, their families, and oddly enough, any cows they may have in their possession. Rest assured it was very much unsuited for such a text, but I preserved as much as I was morally able to.)

The florae, nymphs born from flowers, differ from dryads in appearance and origin, and that is where the differences end. They are comparatively rarer as flowers are quite fragile and much more likely to be destroyed, but so long as the vine or shrub or roots survive, so too will the flora. Oddly enough, trees that produce a dryad may also produce a flora from its flowers.

Florae are typically made out of whatever their flower bloomed on, be it vines or stems or branches. Whatever their flower was, replicas of it will be blooming all over their body, including in their eyes, and their hair will be made out of its petals. I have encountered florae many times, and I have yet to figure out just how some of the hairstyles they have are physically possible. One of the many mysteries of life, I suppose.

I suppose now that we have discussed dryads and florae, we must now discuss the dragon in the room: the dryads and florae that were once human beings.

There are many, many different theories of why and how this phenomenon occurs, but there are three facts we know: one, that if a human being is turned into a plant, they will inevitably become a nymph, two, that these humans are visually indistinguishable from true nymphs, and three, they are much more fragile- if their tree is cut down or their flower dies, they will die too and there is nothing that can be done about it.

It is for this reason that turning people into plants is so harshly punished, for you have condemned them to either an early death or a painfully prolonged life that could easily be cut short by anyone unaware of their plant"s true nature. But this is not a book about ethics or law, and if you wish to know more, than you must look elsewhere, for I have shared everything that is relevant.

With that out of the way, let's talk about (gods save me) the other land nymphs.

There are nymphs far older than human civilization, and indeed, humanity as a whole. These nymphs are known to the particularly religious as "The Elder Ones" and to the rest of us as simply the land nymphs.

The best way to explain these nymphs is to take a quick look at history. All throughout time, the earth has been shifting and changing, and as it changes, so too do the nymphs who personify it. These nymphs are fluid and ever changing, their types only vague classifications that serve to describe just what they represent at the moment. They are old, wise, and frustratingly reclusive, and the only reason we know they exist is because of what other nymphs have told us.

Thus far, the classifications are:

Oreads (mountain nymphs)

Valleaeae (valley/pasture/glen nymphs)

Pratae (meadow nymphs (Editor's Note: I personally don't understand the point of this distinction))

Napaeae (dell nymphs)

Haliae (seashore nymphs)

Umidae (wetland nymphs)

This is all we really know about them, and though other nymphs claim that it was them who created all other nymphs, that sounds far too religious for this book.

Water Nymphs

Water nymphs are far less varied than land nymphs (thank the gods, this chapter is getting long enough as it is) and they are all, in terms of origin and appearance, functionally the same.

Naiads (the term for water nymphs in general) spawn from a water source that isn't the open sea (why, this is still unknown.) They are made out of water and may adorn themselves with objects found in their water source, such as colorful rocks or flowers and things of that nature.

The subspecies of naiads are:

Lacuae (lake nymphs)

Pegaeae (spring nymphs

Fluminae (river nymphs)

Naiads are a curious case. Unlike land nymphs, they cannot be killed by any means. Instead, they will spawn, live as long as they like, and then once they're done they will dissolve into the water from whence they came, and another naiad will spawn and the cycle will start anew.

There will never be more than one naiad at a time from one water source, and we have yet to discover any nymphs born from the ocean.

Underworld Nymphs

Underworld nymphs have only been said to exist by the precious few undead who are willing to discuss such matters. They are not proven to be anything more than the dreams of a dying mind, and thus I will not be including them in this text no matter how much my editor begs me to.

If you wish to research them, there are a number of scholarly texts that hotly debate their existence, role in the Underworld, origin, and quite literally every little thing about them.

Vagari

Whatever Vagari may be, they almost certainly aren't nymphs. Some say that they are the children stolen away by fairies, others say that they are the tormented souls of lost travelers. All that can concretely be proven about them is that they can be seen wandering the woods, wearing clothes made out of animal skins and leaves, and wearing a mask in the shape of an animal's head.

I write about them in this text solely because we are just uncertain enough of their true nature that they could, possibly, be some form of nymph.

And with that, this text comes to a close. I hope this will serve you well wherever you may be, and always remember: if you should meet a nymph, treat them and their source with respect, never forget that they are as wild as the earth that formed them, and don't get too attached to any objects they may see in your possession. Or just run. That would work as well.

[kaijudirector]

007 Fest 2023 - Headcanons!

Run out the guns, it's headcanon time! Prepare for barrage! (and my first post, so forgive me if I make a few mistakes, and it's a bit late due to my personal schedule)

Bond Headcanons

James Bond is not a codename. Quite frankly, I've never subscribed to this theory. I've always believed that we jump to a slightly different universe with every actor switch. Each universe shares vaguely the same series of events, with certain commonalities. Such as…

Every film Bond has lost their Tracy, except (maybe) Connery and Craig. Moore still visits his Tracy's grave, Dalton's was mentioned to have been married in LTK. Brosnan we never know flat out, but remember - "Or if you find forgiveness in the arms of those willing women, for all the dead ones you failed to protect…" Connery represents and interesting scenario. Diamonds are Forever can be read in two ways - either Bond is out Spectre-hunting after You Only Live Twice to catch the remains of what remains of Spectre, or he's on the warpath after Tracy died in On Her Majesty's Secret Service. For the sake of this theory, let's say that the latter scenario is canon.

Brosnan's Bond used to have unlimited spending money, but then Dench!M cut the funding, hence her nickname of evil queen of numbers This is something that has some basis in the Fleming books. Bond in Casino Royale is allowed to spend exorbitant amounts of money on the Secret Service's tab - millions of francs that is. Despite the fact that in the 50s 1 pound meant 13 francs, this still constitutes a hefty amount. I remember reading that novel!Bond basically has an unlimited budget in a guidebook. I have a feeling this is similar in the movies - after all, I doubt even a RN commander's pension could afford the hundreds of thousands in monies Bond is bound to lose in the movies. Of course, in Brosnan!Bond's timeline, I have a feeling Dench!M ended up putting an end to that little scenario.

There was no Cuban Missile Crisis in the Fleming books. Rather, Operation Thunderball was the "big nuclear scare that defined the Cold War". In the movies, it's largely kept under wraps, but in the book, it eventually goes public by the end of the story. Of course, the loss of two atomic bombs in the Caribbean may have convinced certain figures in the Soviet Union that keeping their nukes in such an area would be… disastrous to say the least. So with that in mind, they decided not to bite the bullet and kept Cuba nuke-free.

SMERSH was kept around specifically to counter the OO Section in the books. SMERSH in real life was disassembled in 1946, whereupon the MGB took on its counter-intelligence duties before reformatting into the KGB in 1954. We know in later books, specifically The Man With the Golden Gun and Octopussy and the Living Daylights, that the KGB does exist in the Fleming books. However, considering how more proactive the British Secret Service is, especially with the OO section, I would hazard a guess that SMERSH was kept around specifically to combat them, at least until the KGB came into existence (which then absorbed it).

Brosnan's Lleweylln!Q did retire… He took his fishing boat to Wales and lived out the rest of his days somewhere in the countryside where they only speak Welsh (a little something @emiliasilverova and I cooked up a few years ago)

Kincade is (or at least was) married to May Maxwell For those of you who don't know, May Maxwell is Book!Bond's Scottish housekeeper. In between assignments, she and Kincade stay up in Skyfall, before Bond summons her to look after his flat until he returns. Sadly, perhaps the reason we don't see her in Craig!Bond's run is that she may have passed away at some point.

Blofeld was always a megalomaniac, but kept that under wraps... until Bond drove him over the edge

One major line of thinking I remember when I watched Tim Burton's Batman movies is that Batman is always just one step behind his villains in the crazy department, with his morals relatively intact. Conversely, we see Blofeld acting like an absolute machine in Thunderball (and all his appearances in the movies before YOLT), but when Bond foiled his plots, he slowly began to lose it. This gave way into him being more expressive, megalomanaical, and downright unconventional (biological warfare, suicide gardens, and diamond lasers) as time goes on. After all, how would YOU process your hundred-million-dollar master plans going up in smoke at the hands of a suave secret agent who always gets away with it?

Bond's favorite book is Treasure Island

John Gardner mentioned that Robert Louis Stevenson was Bond's favorite author. And with the latter writing a sea story that stars a young orphan named James, who gets involved in some epic swashbuckling adventures, it just feels right.

[woomycritiques543]

TW: SEXUAL HARASSMENT, MENTIONS OF ABUSE, AND R^PE! LONG VENT! SCROLL AWAY FROM THIS POST IF THESE TOPICS HEAVILY UPSET YOU!

(This was copy and pasted from an hour ago, so sorry for all the "theys" some of this is from an older post im just compilling this together as receipits/an archive/legal defense. UPDATE: I was also tired while writing this, so many typos are to be expected.)

There is a much larger channel, the Itallian one I mentioned earlier, who when I mentioned the fact that Stolas and Blitz's SA was being mishandeled, Dir, also known as "DirGentlemen" proceeded to slander me for mentioning how sexual harassment in the show was mishandeled by telling me to "CRY ABOUT IT!" and how I was a "A GAY SEX ON SCREEN HATER!" and then after I defended my statement and had to post evidence to prevent any further harm from either his fanbase or the overall Hazbin fandom he threw the word "abuser!" at me for having to post evidence to keep myself from being harmed by even more of the fandom, due to his following, in a thread, that he could have easily blocked me over instead of shaming me for having my own free speech and mentioning my own traumas on a public Twitter thread! I had only mentioned said trauma since he had harmed me in a way that invalidated it by derailing something that mattered to me as another victim, and continued the conversion for hours despite claiming that he had wanted to "drop it" and continously harassed me for mentioning said traumas, disclosing his personal information (for no reason, he could have blocked me at any time instead of constantly contiuing the conversation and going after my blog!) in a public Twitter thread that includes serious topics that he could have easily blocked! So for that, I am going to archive everything that I told both my freinds and my Twitter here:

"-and then when I treid to tell them to stop invalidating me and to try to understand the context of why I didnt like how they were fetishizng Stolas's r&pe of Blitz, they claimed that I was "TRAUMA MEASURING" and that I was "mentioning something that made them comfortable"- Only AFTER they continued the conversation about it for about ten minutes despite the fact that I was obviously uncomfortable with them BULLYING ME and INVALIDING ME by telling me to "CRY ABOUT IT" in response to criticism about SA fetishizing in Helluva Boss, but instead of owning up to their behavior, played the victim for a conversation they choose to continue! - and then when I was telling him to stop posting serious accusations towards me to the point of calling me an "ABUSER" for saying that THEY were the one that made ME mentioning MY personal info by invalidating my traumas and experinces for a fucking CARTOON! and telling me to "cry about it!" for caring about the representation of something I WENT THROUGH! Just to manipulate people into thinking that I was a "bad person" for trying to defend my channel from a adult man with a much bigger fanbase that he was using against me!

-and then used the fact that they were also a victim and autistic as an excuse to continue harassing me and use these kinds of claims for pitty when hey were the one who made me continue talking about it by continuing to harass me and victimize themselves for a conversation about a serious topic- THEY STARTED instead of ignoring my Helluva Boss thread by saying such horrible things in front of their fans of ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND SUBSCRIBERS in the first place! -and again, called me a creep, abuser, AND a "hater of representing toxicity in gay relationships and all sorts of things for not wanting Stolas and Blitz r^ping each other to be represented as "cute and sexy!" and wanting them to stop attacking me, wanting them to LEAVE ME ALONE and to block me instead of posting damaging claims that could end my Youtube channel for good.

I even told them I was scared (again, this was a much larger youtuber, so I was terrified and kept responding since I didnt want anyone from their fandom to dox me or anything, knowing Hazbin fans)- yet they kept going on and on and on and ON with victim blaming and victimizing themself for a conversation they started that was making ME uncomfortable but continued with due to wanting to post evidence to keep their fandom from harassing me! A smaller channel with barely 100 subscribers while they, a much bigger channel, kept harassing me and then bragged about how I was having my "BIG MOMENT!" just because I was talking to him-

Someone with a bigger subscriber account as if that made them "right!" or was an excuse for harassing me over a cartoon! Which is narcissistic as hell and outright harassment! Which is also narcisstic as all hell because they were assuming that I was telling them to stop harassing me "for attention" just because they had more internet subs than me. Then mentioning that they were "autistic" and were also a sa victim and that I was mentioning a "uncomfortable topic I dont want to talk about!" (Psst. It clearly wasnt since they kept talking to me about it in a total of TWO DAMN HOURS!) try to get me to feel guilty for telling them not to lie about defending the representation of something I care about/went through, and how it hurt ME! ANOTHER LIVING BEING! THE REPRESENTATION THATS HURTING ME AND MANY OTHERS MATTERS TOO AND PRETENDING AS IF THIS PROBLEM WITH HELLUVA BOSS "DOESNT" EXIST FOR CLOUT IS FUCKING DISGUSTING!!!!!!

Saying that their representation as a Italian is "SO VALID OH NO HELLUVA BOSS IS OFFENSIVE!" but when I talk about something that personality harmed me as a SA victim they told me to "CRY ABOUT IT!" and twisted my words as a attempt to get their fandom to mock me for caring as if me talking about representation that hurt ME deserves to be invalidated? As if I dont fucking matter?

AS IF I DONT FUCKING MATTER AT ALL!?

again- He MADE me mention these things!

If he didnt- he would have blocked me instead of WILLINGLY posting serious claims and slander towards me such as me being "against gay sex being in media" (which is borderline accusing me of being a homophobe), and saying things that would obviously cause people to harass me and claim that I was "NOT!" a victim, calling me a "abuser" for trying to tell them to stop responding and to block me instead of posting more and MORE serious claims and twisting my words, all because they wanted to harass me over a cartoon character!

Plus denying the things that I was talking about were in the show were there when they clearly were, and when someone defended their harassment and apologized, the youtuber only acknowledged the harassment but not that other fan's apology and AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH why is this fandom so fucking god awful!? IM SICK OF IT!!!!!!"

You know what, screw it, im done being vague im going to say who HE (not "they", not being vague anymore) was doing to me last night and had refused to stop despite be begging him to do so for the sake of my reputation, prevention of slander, and legal rights:

The post I retweeted because I felt bad that he was being harassed with nationalist stereotypes.

2. Another post such as this, that I also supported.

3. I then posted a thread about Helluva Boss stereotypes, including this one: (Also, the entire episode revolved around SA. For a person that "hates!" talking about things like this he sure likes to look at entire things involving it, plus responding to things about it and then getting mad when I come out as a victim of SA just because I responded to how they were derailing my post and telling me to "CRY ABOUT IT!" and that they were invalidating something that clearly is hurting other victims and he had NO REASON to disclose personal information outside of weaponizing his trauma to excuse his own actions and to make those calling him out look "bad faith!"- Dirgentlemen having harassed people himself not long ago!

4. The "CRY ABOUT IT!" post. Which makes this even more hypocritical because when I said "You made me do this! You made me continue this conversation by posting slander towards me and risking my reputation over a cartoon! HOW AM I "TERRIBLE!" for defending myself after you harassed me?!" he called me a literal "ABUSER!" when by that logic, that would make him a "abuser!" since he posted actually hateful language and said "CRY ABOUT IT!" as if any of the representation that hurts someone "doesnt matter" if he doesnt agree with it, didnt apologize, and instead played victim by acting as if he "didnt want to talk about SA!" and claiming that I was being "innapropiate!" for mentioning my own traumas to defend myself since the fandom constantly tries to invalidate victims and pretend as if we dont exist whenever we mention things like this. Saying that he "didnt want to talk about SA!" at the last second, right after watching an entire episode of a cartoon filled with the subject matter and also harassing me for two hours within a topic instead of "dropping it!" like he said a literal hour before he stopped going after my Twitter blog and posting literal hate!

He was literally acting as if I should have just "let" him talk horribly towards me and that me defending myself from him telling me to "CRY!" about caring about the representation of a subject matter that effects me as someone who's traumatized is "abuse!" As if I somehow dont have the right to mention my trauma, in a public space that he could have easily left at any time, and acting as if I "forced" him to disclouse personal info when I never asked for the sort and just wanted him to LEAVE ME ALONE! Again- what did he expect me to do after he told me that the problem with how Helluva Boss represents SA is "harmful!" while he felt that he could talk down to me and continue the conversation PLUS the slander without any care! Saying "im a victim of this!" doesnt mean "you should mention this if you are that too!" and this was all just emotional manipulation to make me feel bad for saying anything about how he was treating me. LITERALLY! He had NO REASON to mention his personal life in the context of his section of the conversation ("Which was basically just "LOL THERES NO R^PE IN HELLUVA BOSS! Stolas and Blitz are just discovering each other ✨what are you talking about?!")and clearly did this out of pitty to get his fans to see my overall posts as "abusive!" despite the fact that I was just trying to tell him to leave me alone! He kept harassing me for HOURS while I was trying to tell him to stop and that if he didnt want to listen that he should have left the conversation and moved onto something else instead of obsessing over what I was saying for hours!

3. The "BIG MOMENT!" comment, fuming of narcissim and "YOU'RE JUST DOING THIS FOR ATTENTION!" just because I was responding to a blog with a high subscriber account. When I could have cared less about that detail since I just wanted him to leave me alone!

4. Dirgentlemen telling me to drop it, but then continueing to post more slander and no criticism whatsoever as a way to try to get his fandom against what I was saying for another hour!

Again, he had no reason to spread that information, but did so anyway to try to make the fact that he was trying to harass me for posting in a public thread about my own experinces and how it applies to my thoughts on a literal cartoon show, while also being the same man who said this to me not long ago, which made it so I had to defended myself. I have every right not to want be slandered or spoken to that way! -and just because you have a higher subscriber count, that gives you no excuse to harass others and then call them "ABUSERS!" for feeling the need to post evidence of your behavior within said public thread that you could have easily muted instead of shaming me for mentioning SA like you somehow "own" that section of Twitter and everything people say within it. I wasnt "forcing" you to mention anything! I just wanted you to block me so you would'nt post further slander about my blog or my (much smaller!) channel and because let's face it- it's a public thread, and if I want to defend myself from you saying uncalled for shit like this, in front of your 50,000+ subscribers and thousands of followers:

I HAVE EVERY RIGHT TO DEFEND MYSELF FOR IT!

THERE IS NEVER A EXCUSE FOR BULLYING OR SLANDER!

NONE! YOU HAD NO REASON TO HARASS ME OTHER THAN TO FEEL BETTER ABOUT YOURSELF FOR YOUR OWN PROBLEMS!

This isn't criticism or letting someone talk about their own experinces and how representation effects them- THIS IS BULLYING!

-and the reason why this conversation even happened, being because he posted a video defending Stolas and Blitz and calling it "grounbreaking representation!" , again, calling me a "sex on screen hater", a "creep" and a "ABUSER!" for saying that he was making me continue a conversation I wasnt comfortable with by throwing out slander and basically acting as if it was "WRONG!" for anyone to call him out for that post in any way whatsoever. When it's obvious that this isnt even a "NEW THING!" and gay men have been represented as toxic or predatory since before the 90s! If anything, the show just furthers harmful stereotypes, in which me mentioning this caused him to tell me to "CRY ABOUT IT!" and then try to get pitty once I told him that how he was treating me was disrespectful, and then telling me that mentioning the fact that I was a sa victim in a PUBLIC SPACE as if this was his "property" somehow was "gross!" while defending harmful representation- AND LITERALLY HARASSING SOMEONE AND USING HIS STATUS TO GET AWAY WITH IT!

He told me I was "gross!" for mentioning MY own traumas in a PUBLIC space and then HARASSED ME over and over and OVER again, keeping up the conversation instead of blocking me and twisting my words and mocking my post repeatedly- but at the same time it's "ok" for him to speak to me that way because he likes a fictional lizard? WHAT THE FUCK?! Literally, forcing me into continuing a conversation I was uncomfortable with by spreading slander and harassing me for talking about my own experince- in a public space when he could have easily BLOCKED ME if he didnt want to see people talking about those experinces.

Instead, he basically tried to control the whole comment seciton (unrealistic) and acted like he "owned" the comments- when the comment section is somewhere that's public! PEOPLE CAN MENTION WHAT THEY WANT! IF YOU DONT LIKE IT JUST BLOCK THEM INSTEAD OF PUBLICALLY SHAMING AND HARASSING THEM FOR POSTING A TRIGGER, GUILT TRIPPING THEM INTO THINKING THAT YOU MENTIONING YOUR OWN INFO WAS "THEIR FAULT" WHEN YOU COULD HAVE EASILY CHOOSEN NOT TO AND HAD BLOCKED ME! INSTEAD YOU CONTINUED TO SPREAD SLANDER THAT COULD GET ME FURTHER HARASSED AND CALLING ME A "ABUSER" FOR FEELING THE NEED TO POST EVIDENCE! WHICH I HAD TO OR THINGS WOULD GET WORSE! BUT NO! YOU KEPT GOING! YOU KEPT HARASSING ME FOR CRTICIZING YOU BACK AFTER YOU WERE VERBALLY HOSTILE AND RUDE TOWARDS ME! AND YOU WOULDNT LEAVE ME ALONE! FOR HOURS- YOU WOULDNT LEAVE ME ALONE LIKE YOU SAID YOU WOULD! INSTEAD OF "DROPPING IT" LIKE YOU TOLD ME TO- YOU KEPT GOING AND I HAD TO BLOCK YOU MYSELF AFTER LITERAL HOURS OF YOU HARASSING ME AND ONLY USING "DROP IT!" TO GUILT TRIP ME FOR DEFENDING MYSELF FROM LITERAL SLANDER AND HARASSMENT!

He knew that having such a large following could get me potientially further harassed, lied about, or even doxxed by the fandom from throwing me out in the open and spreading slander on top of it- but didnt care! All that "mattered" in the end was his validation, him being seen as "right" in the conversation no matter how much basic research he had to deny, him not getting criticized back, and me being seen as the "bad guy" for posting a topic in a public thread that he could have EASILY IGNORED but choose to harass me over anyway! He didnt give a shit about my wellbeing and only cared when it benefited himself and his own reputation! Also his fans did end up harassing me and denying what happened so the "dont worry my fans wont harass anyone!" was a total lie! He had no care for the reputation of the other side to the point of throwing around the word "ABUSER!" without any research into what the word actually mean! With no consideration whatsoever of what this could do to me legally- over a Twitter thread! TWITTER! Who does that?!

I had no choice, I am a much smaller creator and if I didnt post any evidence or say what I was, more of the fandom would not just accuse me of "not" being a sa victim just because I disliked a fictional character, or would have used your posts as a excuse to harass me further! -and ive had enough slander, so I posted evidence as an attempt to keep things from going out of control. Instead, you had a pitty party over something you could have easily blocked and not discloused, and risked my rights legally on top of it by throwing the word "ABUSER!" in a public space as a channel with over 70,000 subscribers! I am a black person under disability who's financially struggling yet you're throwing around the word "abuser" like it's nothing! HOW DO YOU NOT REALIZE HOW DANGEROUS THIS IS LEGALLY?! I could get genuinely hurt because of your behavior! Yet you pushed the word "abuser" on me for having to make myself try to find a way to get you to stop harassing me or to not post my thread out of context to protect my repuatation, as black person, in a world of police brutality! Something that could cause me serious harm, or even get me killed! Instead, you choose to slander me anyway just to benefit your own self and your career! Dir- you're a large channel, harassing a much smaller channel, and shaming someone for mentioning a subject matter in a public space and throwing the word "abuser!" around to get your fans against my blog. Do you want to be taken to court over a Twitter post, is that really the kind of image you want for your channel and your viewers?

How is that feedback? How is that in any way going to help anyone but yourself and your own ego?! I would have had a choice if you had just BLOCKED ME instead of posting slander and harassment that could cause extreme harm to my channel with only 197 subs with a much larger channel posting harassment and slander towards me publically! Instead, you didnt care, took it to the extreme of calling me an "abuser" for saying that I had no choice but to post evidence so you and your fandom wouldnt use the kind of things you were spewing against my repuatation, my channel, or my legal rights later on. Then you know what happened? I ENDED UP BEING HARASSED ANYWAY because you prioritized your ego and my so called "big moment" of speaking to you when I didnt even want to speak to you anymore! But you kept going anyway instead of blocking me in a PUBLIC SPACE where I could mention a serious topic if I so choose, shamed me for mentioning said topic or my own traumas as if you owned a public comment section that you could have left any time so I could talk about Madline's video in peace with someone who apologized because unlike you, said fan actually cared about the wellbeing of others in the situation and actually wanted to listen to what I was saying! You kept harassing me for hours instead of just leaving me alone and not spreading further slander. I was begging you to for hours, but you wouldnt listen!

If you dont like something- block it! Dont shame and harass people for mentioning something triggering just because you dont agree with them on a cartoon! If it's a trigger- BLOCK! Harassing people and then calling them a "abuser!" because you basically used your status to force them into having to continue the conversation to make sure there was enough evidence to not make the harassment worse is BULLYING! Eventually, I had to stop after I posted enough evidence to keep him from using the fact that I mentioned a trigger of his against me, in a public thread, to prevent as much further harassment and the possibility of even more known youtubers attacking me, but that just goes to show that no- I had no choice because he kept making claims that could get me into LEGAL ISSUES because he didnt agree with me on two fictional characters, invalidated MY traumas by telling me to "cry about it!" but then called the fact that I told him that he was making me continue by continuing to spread false information on a public thread "abusive" but not even once acknowledged his own hostility and how horribly he treated me!

He also claimed that he "wasnt" talking about representation in the show that offended him, while the top post was literally this:

He made the post about himself and was clearly talking about Italian representation- otherwise, why even mention that you're italian in this post at all if its not about you or how the representation offended you? How is it "OFFENSIVE OH MY GOD!" to you yet it's "good representation and you should just cry about it! CRY ABOUT IT HATER! LOL BAD FAITH!" if it's representation that doesnt personally offend you? How am I "overly sensitive!" and deserved to be lied about, slandered, and also claimed to be an "abuser!" for telling you to stop harassing me and that you basically forced me into a conversation I didnt want by bullying me and spreading slander as a Youtuber with over 50,000 subscribers, and then cried wolf over mentioning a subject matter that you were mentioning to me MULTIPLE TIMES and clearly didnt have any empathy for how uncomfortable you were making me- at all! Please- if you see this PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE I dont want to talk about this anymore I told you multiple times yet you would'nt listen to me and forced the conversation to keep going by posting slander towards me as a smaller channel.

While you are a "GOOD PERSON WHO DID NO WRONG!" who didnt even apologize once for your own hostile behavior just because again- that you liked pair of fictional characters!

Characters from a cartoon show- that doesnt even exist! Yet the real people in the conversation somehow barely mattered to you, at all, just your ego and the fact that spreading slander over what I had wrote and how "terrible!" it is to post about my personal experinces in a public thread, that you could have easily ignored and not harased me over- made you feel better about yourself!

5. Extra details, but I noticed how he had a fan who was also harassing me and twisting my words, but when said fan apologized he liked the harassment... but not the apology.

Again- with Dir deliberately trying to take things out of context or only focusing on a certain context to benefit himself.

6. Called me not just a "ABUSER!" but an "abliest", again, with no evidence or even feedback- when I even calmly asked them about what I did wrong- and he ignored me! Again- you cant just make serious claims like this and not elaborate on it! WTF?!

7. Again with the "ABUSER!" and misusing serious terms out of hate towards me criticizing him for repeatedly harassing me.

A abuser is someone who "controls, or does "something with cruelty."

Again- how is me admitting to being a victim of assault, telling him that he shouldnt be harassing other victims of assault after he mentioned that he was also a victim because well- I dont know, maybe other victims in the situation matter too Dir and shouldn't be told to "CRY ABOUT IT!" for something that effects them as a victim, aka "cruelty"- so by your logic that would make you an "abuser", but you're not- So what is the point of using this term except to slander me over a show filled with fictional characters! -and when I told them that I was sorry for calling them a "man child" (sorry about that) or asked them "why" him kept screaming about how I was an "abliest"- He never responded?! They just kept posting slander? WHY?! WHY NOT MUTE ME WTF?! I had to block him myself because I knew that he just WOULD NOT STOP if I didnt block him or decide to not put the entire situation in my own hands by continuing to respond to him out of fear of the public slandering me in return or causing me to get into any potiential legal trouble for a 70,000+ subscriber channel claiming that I was a literal "CREEP!" and a "ABUSER!"! because I didnt want him to harass me over a cartoon character and felt that I needed to respond to DEFEND MYSELF FROM BEING HARASSED BY HIS FANDOM AGAIN and telling him to not harass me because I had every fucking right to! NO ONE deserves to be harassed and to tell someone that they basically "deserve" it because you disagree with them is disgusting!

Almost no consideration for my legal rights, my representation, reputation, nothing! No consideration outside of what makes him look "good!" Im honestly disgusted by how he handled the situation, when he could have easily blocked instead of choosing to harass my blog and make claims that have nothing to do with what I said such as "you just dont like seeing sex on screen!" or "you hate when shows represent toxic gay couples, even if this has been done before and im just using this as an excuse to ignore the fetishization!" and using his large audience to get away with literal harassment when I had every right to defend myself from him telling me to "CRY ABOUT!" something that hurt me mockingly and throwing out serious claims such as this when he literally made me have to defend myself!

Hell, I even apologized for saying "man child" and told him to stop responding and to block me- but of course he did, and then told me to be "hurt somewhere else" while continuing to talk about the episode of the show, the episode where there's constant SA and abuse and a literal public thread that he could have choosen to block me over instead of continously harassing me and making serious claims that could put my life at stake! Legal ones!

If you dont want me mentioning things like this-

Just BLOCK ME instead of continuing the conversation as an excuse to tell me how "wrong!" i am for not wanting you to harass me further, instead you kept going on about it despite claiming that you wanted me to "drop it!", again, as a attempt to make me look "abusive!" for fighting back in ANY SORT OF WAY against YOUR own slander and verbal attacks towards me, over a cartoon, and then used serious claims such as outright calling me an "ABUSER!" that made it so I had to continue in order to protect myself LEGALLY because of just how fucking iresponsible you are since you decided to harass a teenager online over a cartoon, and then accused them of being a "abuser" and a "creep!" for mentioning their trauma and how Helluva Boss is sexualizing said type of trauma! -and now am having to post this so I dont get into legal trouble because of how you tried to flip the narrative so people wouldnt point out your harassment.

God.... this guy is insufferable. I wish the best for him and im sorry that he is being harassed, but that gives him no excuse to harass people in return! Especially if almost worse than just "italians funny!" because it's denying the existence of the fetishization of sexual harassment- something I even SHOWED TO HIS FACE yet he still denied things and told me to "CRY ABOUT IT!" and outright MOCKED ME OVER and didnt say "pwease dont talk about this uwu! Im a victim and autistic too so that automatically makes you a bad person for mentioning your traumas in PUBLIC TWITTER THREAD that I could have easily blocked so you could talk about a cartoon character in peace without being HARASSED by me, a grown man with a big youtube channel with fans that are now harassing you because of what I did! LMAO CRY ABOUT IT! XD" until after I was starting to tell you to not harass me, yet you kept going because you did not care about how continuing the conversation effected me, my representation, my rights against literal slander and bullying, my legal rights, OR my mental and physical health, absulotely no consideration for my wellbeing whatsoever!

FUCK OFF!

Now- im posting this here because im having to defend my rights and representation from a Hazbin stan with over ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND SUBSCRIBERS to keep myself from having to have even MORE hazbin stans going after my blog than there already is or from getting into legal trouble from Dir's inconsiderate behavior!

Honestly-

WHAT THE FUCK?!

[animalshelterawareness]

I’ve tried getting into the blogging thing a couple times, in fact, I’d like to argue that I was semi successful when I had a tumblr where I complained about my life everyday and managed to have one active subscriber. It’s nice and all, until I got bored and realized my life actually wasn’t as interesting as I was making it out to be. Then you run out of content, deactivate, and pretend it never happened.

Now, this presents my upcoming discussion. I needed actual issues to talk about in life, and recently I was given the task of finding an issue and talking about it. Now, typically, when I get assignments like these, I roll my eyes and pretend to not care. But this issue, this issue dwelled on the back of my mind, and now that I am informed, I have the confidence to add my own two cents. When I got my cat, Snuggles, I was always curious about her background. What was she like before she was adopted by my mother one fateful day (Pi Day of 2019, which is ironic, since she does not do math).

Apparently, I will never know what it's actually like, because she will not speak up and tell me. She can meow at four in the morning so I can open the door to let her go chase grasshoppers, but if I dare to question her philosophies and her stances, she goes silent. I don’t blame her for this however, she was quite young when she was still in the system, and could either not recall fully, or she is so traumatized from her past she chooses to stay silent...

Doing research on animal shelters, the dots start to connect. Now, I won't know for sure, but based on what i’ve seen, animal shelters are probably not very sheltering for animals. For those who live under a rock, animal shelters are typically building houses that house animals that are in need of being adopted, hence giving them shelter temporarily. Great concept, actually amazing concept. Obviously animals should be given food, water, and a place to stay rather than roaming the streets and getting rabies. However, the problem lies with the environment of the animal shelters themselves.

Many animal shelters tend to be overcrowded, housing hundreds of animals at one time. When people look for animals to adopt, they tend to gravitate towards the younger and cuter animals. Now, Snuggles, (a cat) was both young and cute, which is why she was so easily chosen, but of course, that doesn’t exactly last forever. When you consider the animals coming into this shelter, as much as you have tiny bite sized kittens and puppies, you have animals coming from neglected homes and morally corrupt breeding mills. Missouri is known to be “the heart of the puppy mill industry”, which makes the surplus of dogs become a problem when simply, not everyone wants a mass produced dog.

It’s also important to consider the behaviors of an animal when it’s being chosen. Some of us will gravitate towards different types of personalities. While others prefer loud and excitable, as opposed to a timid and shy animal, it can be confirmed with research that the shelter environment typically warps the behavior of an animal overtime. Wherever that be for the better or the worse. Well, always worse. But, in these high stress environments, it's been proven to make animals more aggressive and in that case, less likely to be adopted. Though the humane society in Columbia is a no-kill shelter, and relies on the citizens of the county to feel like adopting an animal that day. However, when you go back to the point of factors for adopting like age and compatibility, the more time an undesired animal lives in a shelter, the more likely it is to stay put in there.

Reminds me of a term… “lookism”… but for animals. You think the animals are conscious of pretty privilege? That would be so tragic.

Now, what about the noise in the shelter? Also proven by statistics, noise in animal shelters regularly exceeds 100 db, which is the equivalent of something as loud as a lawnmower and a jackhammer. Now imagine listening to this for hours and hours at a time, probably into the night as well. Any ordinary person would get stressed within a few minutes of this, imagine the absolute insanity one might experience hearing it nearly all hours of the day, from the moment you wake up to the second everyone else shuts their eyes. It might as well be considered a form of torture the CIA would use to make someone crack.

In stressful environments for dogs in particular, research shows that the plasma cortisol levels of an animal can either be too high or too low, which can lead to many health negatives. High levels can lead to heart failure and strokes, while if levels are too low will lead to decreased energy levels. In addition, loud noises will lead to aggression in dogs, which not only changes their behavior, but is prone to make them more violent. Aggressive dogs are less likely to be adopted, and in shelters that have a goal to get rid of animals, through adoption or murder, will choose these dogs to put down first. With the knowledge of grooming dogs to become more aggressive, intentional or not, it becomes problematic knowing that things like this can be prevented.

Now… let's propose a solution. Well, for starters, some things we can’t prevent so easily. Overcrowding in animal shelters is an expected outcome, but we can easily negate the worst outcomes of this by increasing promotion of animals in said shelters. Make more targeted advertisements, reach out in the community of the benefits of adopting all different types of animals. Some shelters, such as Second Chance, have a list that shows animals that are about to be euthanized, and I think this should be a common practice across all animal shelters to prevent the killing of innocent animals.

What about volunteers, those are something to take into account, right? Of course, we should encourage those with a good track record with working with animals to come to shelters and help, and we should also give training so new trainers know how to respond to things they may come across. At the end of the day, those who take care of animals influence their behaviors, which is why you should stress the positivity of the volunteers. Decreasing aggression and stress would be a big improvement for both animal and worker health, and would increase the positivity of animal shelter practices.

Concluding this entry, it's important to stress the need for change in an animal shelter environment. Laws aren’t the top priority to change, but rather the community’s behavior and willingness to help. Animal shelters still suffer from fundamental flaws in their practices, and if us animal activists as a collective each pitch in a little, our impact would be noticeable. Whenever that's pitching in with donations for supplies, or researching how to be an efficient and effective volunteer, we could truly make a change.

[sincerepositivethings]

Issue One Hundred and Fifty-One

Subscribe over here, if you’d like to!

Hello! It’s been a little bit. I do have a reason, and I’ll let you decide if it’s a good one or not: I’ve been making things. And I’m not plugging those things here. However, I wanted to talk to you about the simple act of making things. Recently, my podcast cohost Heather and I had to figure out some merch to send to a group of our listeners. I came up with the idea of a baseball-style pennant and got to work trying to figure out how much it would cost to have a company print custom ones. The answer: not insanely expensive, but not incredibly cheap either. Had it just been me, I probably would’ve moved on to a different idea, but Heather had a plan: we bought some blank pennants, we found a person on Etsy who made vinyl transfers, and we fired up Photoshop. (Luckily, Heather already owned an iron.)

It took some practice, but we soon became experts at ironing on incredibly intricate designs onto incredibly thin pieces of fabric. I won’t lie: it was occasionally stressful that we were going to mess up our limited supply of pennant crafts, but by the end of it we were having a ton of fun making pennants for a podcast. So, in summary: we saved some money, we learned a new skill together, and we had a grand old time putting it all together. The Internet is super cool and gives you access to a number of different small businesses, large businesses, and individuals who will put together whatever crazy thing you want to put together. It takes more work to research and determine how to replicate that work on your own. And let’s be honest, the homemade canoe you make in the garage it’s going to be far crappier, and take far more time to make than the one you buy online. But, nothing is going to beat that feeling of having done it yourself. The one from Amazon might look nicer and might not immediately sink, but no matter what that’s never going to be the canoe that you built yourself.  Unless you’re a liar. Then you can say whatever you want.  

Hey. Did'ja see Everything, Everywhere All At Once? Don't worry. That's not the recommendation. It already won Best Picture. In fact, it swept the Oscars so you probably already saw it and loved it, or you already saw it and thought it was overhyped. Those are the two options. But, in the Best Supporting Actress category, Jaime Lee Curtis won, so that means Stephanie Hsu did not. She's going to have many more cracks at winning, so it's fine, but if you haven't already seen her audition for the role of Joy, you really should. (I do not recommend watching it if you took the rare third option of "I haven't gotten around to it, but I've heard good things. I'll check it out, I will. Maybe this weekend!")

Sucked Into a Bagel

[thedysphoriadiaries]

Entry 21 - A Fluffy Point Of View - 6 March 2023, 3:20pm

You might have noticed that this post isn't a subpost (hence why it's Entry 21, instead of 20B).

I. Identity - The Self, and Others

Identities are something we develop over time, and, I've been questioning mine recently. We develop them based not just on our natural inclinations as individuals, but also based on our responses to external stimuli. What I know, and what I can accept, for now, is that, I'm either not a boy, or that I don't want to be one.

That's the one thing I'm very sure of.

What does it mean to be male, female, non-binary, or even any other permutations of gender?

To be any of those, one simply has to be comfortable approaching the values that make up our basic human expression, from the direction of a certain gender.

For example, nurturing and assertiveness are two different values. However, due to their prevalences within society amongst the genders, as well as the public's preconceived notions of what it means to be those values, nurturing is typically seen as a feminine trait, and assertiveness is typically seen as a masculine one.

However, another thing to point out is the visibility of said values in the actions of the people of a certain gender. For example, a father teaching his child the ways of the world by giving them a safety net and life lessons, is no less nurturing than a mother who does the same. A woman who fights for her own rights is no less assertive than a man who fights for his own rights.

Yet, in the two examples above, one would be inclined to say that the man is subscribing to the gentle masculinity movement, and that the woman is, well, a feminist, who empowers herself to achieve things, which just a hundred years ago, would have been deeply frowned upon due to social custom. And this could be due to the way that society has developed over the years. In fact, I'd argue that the line between femininity and masculinity only exists because of the extant gender role expectations, and the genders which people identify themselves with, while living out the values which they believe in.

...

I order my meal, while outside, and, for a moment, my voice falters. I worry about the male elements creeping back into it. I forget that soon enough, though. At least I'm not called a boy, and that's fine with me, for now.

...

An issue that I have, though, is one of how society will perceive me. As of now, I know that I am more feminine of a person than some of my male peers, or at least, I don't shy away from those feminine things as much as the other peers around me would.

That raises the question, though:

If a (wo)man is allowed to not want to be a (wo)man, at what point does a (wo)man not become a (wo)man?

That is a question that is difficult to answer, and is dependent on personal beliefs.

Does the distinction stop at discomfort?

If so, how much discomfort? There are many people who dislike, and some who hate the limitations placed upon them by the gender norms of society. After all, it's the reason why movements like feminism and MGTOW come up. Or, does the issue have to do less with how one is affected by the gender roles they fall into, and more to do with how they are perceived, gender-wise?

After all, to an outsider, one's gender can technically be implied by the people said person spends time around, their interests, and their biological sex. And if, say, one didn't want to be a female, but was forced to identify as one due to their socializing, and their body, wouldn't it be reasonable for them to have some amount of duress over it? If that duress came from an intrinsic place, ie., that person insisting that they aren't a girl and don't want to be treated as such, wouldn't that person stop being a woman, in most manners of speaking?

Applying that to myself, if I don't want the standards of being a male to apply to me, as it's not something I want to conform to, is that reason enough to not be one?

How do I be a guy when I want to be a girl?

Ironically, if someone asks if I'm a guy, I'd say yes 🙃

Part II: Why I'm not a femboy

Femboys, femboys. The femboy culture, or the culture of being a more effeminate boy, in terms of gender presentation (more on that later).

An issue with explaining how I am a femboy is that the entire femboy aesthetic is tends to chase a hyper-feminine aesthetic, which simply is not possible, for me, at least. Somehow, some of them look even girlier than the girls that I know of.

Even then, the lines between an effeminate boy, a femboy, and a trans woman are blur, with the only difference between an effeminate boy and a femboy being the degree of acceptance towards femininity (and maybe the level of interest and obsession with it), and the difference between those two, and a trans woman, being that a trans woman is a woman.

Essentially, it all comes back to defining what one is.

Do I go with a more transmedicalist opinion, and talk about things like different types of dysphoria (physical, biochemical, and social), and how one has to have a history of clinical mental duress based solely around their own gender (for at least a couple of months), to assess if one is trans?

Or, do I go with a more lenient opinion, and base being something on agreeing with masculine, feminine, or non-binary points of view regarding life?

Personally, I agree more with the former, and note that I did not talk about dysphoria - the notion that one "does not need dysphoria to be trans" is okay, given that the rationale behind it is that not all people know what dysphoria is when coming to terms with their gender identity.

Hell, even I thought that I was being just... different, when I began to look at how I would want to fit in with the girls, as one of them.

But that discomfort in knowing that I was always different, and that longing to be one of the girls, is in itself, dysphoria, even if I did not see it that way before.

....

The major issue that I have with being a femboy is that by custom, there is an underlying layer of fetishism which underpins everything - girls can come in all shapes and sizes, and some are even more masculine than some of the guys I know of.

Essentially, in my opinion, if I were to be a femboy, I'd be fetishizing femininity. Putting the expression of femininity on a pedestal, so much so that some femboys take hormones to feminize their body. I don't have an issue with that. I just don't see myself like that. I don't know why someone would go to such lengths to chase femininity as if it was something to be so desired, almost to a perverse extent.

...

why do I feel a little sad typing this down..?

II. Presentation

To be treated as the one you are, you must not just be the part, but act, and look the part too. After all, when in Rome, you do as the Romans do. Are there safe covens for men to be more feminine than would be allowed in wider society?

That's a question that I have yet to answer.

In fact, that was something that I was using to kind of bargain with the fact that I was definitely not cis. Months ago, I knew that I wasn't as masculine as the male peers around me, and I thought that it had something to do with me being me. It was why, five years ago, I questioned if I could have been a femboy.

As it turns out, I am not, as we discussed earlier.

Even then, being a feminine man just... isn't enough. The want to be a girl goes far deeper than just presentation.

How I got to know that is a different story altogether, but the short version of it includes the tingles™ when playing as female characters in games, downright refusing to play female characters beforehand because I ‘didn't want to be like the other guys I saw’ on Youtube, and how my feelings for girls didn't somehow pedestalize them. Also, the desire to be a girl isn't sexual. It did remove some of the inhibitions to my sex drive though (I felt too male, if it makes sense). Also, the inability to understand guys was a thing in my life too.

III. Doubt

Questions. Is it worth it to unlearn everything associated with living in society as a male, to possibly risk things like being disowned, or job security, or even the uncertainty of the future, of being trans, just for me to be me? Who knows? That me might not even be me.

I have accepted that being a trans woman would mean that I risk infertility, ailments that would be more likely to afflict women, a shorter lifespan, transphobia, and I would have to take hormones for the rest of my life (lest risk health complications). Not to mention the time commitment, and the pretty-much constant worrying of whether I'll pass as a cis woman.

On top of that, I would have to settle legal documentation. My IC, banking documents, and anything that is tied to who I used to be. That will take time, and money.

Would that be worth it in a country where one has to go through so much effort to change a single letter on their identification card? That letter change would not change the fact that by nature's design, I was born male. After all, sex and gender, as of now, are still used interchangeably - a mark of how our society, as of 2023, has not recognized the subtle nuances between birth sex, and gender.

Would that be worth it just to be more comfortable in my own body? I'm not accounting for how social customs will change. Maybe men will be allowed to be more effeminate in the future. Maybe not. Maybe androgyny would be the next hot thing in the future. Maybe not. Hell, even my identity could change.

Then again, what does that mean?

...

Now that I have at least moved one step closer to accepting my place in this world, I no longer feel so... melancholy?

The option for me to be a girl is there.

The option for me to be a guy is there.

The option for me to be an enby is there.

The option for me to do nothing is there too.

In fact, I suppose I can be a little grateful that I am not being called a guy. I can find a little bit of joy in knowing that my hair is long enough to get into my mouth (it's annoying, and it drops often, but OMG THE EUPHORIA I GET FROM PLAYING WITH IT AND FEELING THE MASS OF THAT MUCH HAIR IS SOOO COOL). Also, it's not because I feel pretty. It's because expressing myself like that feels more me than having short hair feels like me.

I still do not know what to do next, however.

The piece of paper reading, "Fluffy is trans (including non-binary)," resides in my wallet. It's in a compartment behind my coin pouch.

Hopefully in the future, I'll gain some level of clarity, and be able to make the choices I need to.

...

Damn it I got called a boy 🙃. One of the people I was dining with asked me how she should address me.

She asked me what my name was, and I went “uh...”

then she just addressed me as 小boyboy.

great 🙃

I wonder what your input would be.

[chubbology]

Overindulged

prompt: feeder boyfriend quits his job and balloons as fat as his feedee/feeder girlfriend

He drove his sleek BMW up his driveway and into the middle garage just as dusk settled into night. He’d stayed overtime at work again, and to make it up to his girlfriend, three dozen fresh assorted donuts sat in the passenger seat.

Sure enough, immediately upon opening the back door with his stack of boxes, he heard her voice: “Late.”

“It’s the end of the month,” he said. “What do you expect? Brought you something though, so don’t be mad. Come in here.”

He set the boxes down on the granite island, then waited, sucking in a breath. His pupils dilated as his favorite person in the world waddled through the wide archway leading into the kitchen. After giving him a pout, she pulled the boxes toward her with arms that hung, at their heaviest, over half a foot with fat.

She was a beautiful, enormous woman. He had met her on a plane three years ago on a business trip to Paris. She’d pulled him into conversation like a warm whirlpool, and he’d listened in awe to her life story: miserable wife of a banker to a happily divorced entrepreneur, flying first class on her own dime.

With a smug, knowing smile, she talked about how she used to be skinny for her ex’s sake and now was free. He couldn’t help but let his gaze roam over her blatantly overweight body. Thighs pressing firm on either armrest of the wide seat, bust prominent and heavy, belly button deep and visible through her dress.

Bad news is, she’d concluded, I just settled a messy lawsuit that lost me my career and nearly bankrupted me. But she shrugged, as if such was life. I’m taking my last-hurrah vacation until I have no choice but to eat tiny, unsatisfying meals again.

He decided that couldn’t come to pass, so he spent as much time with her outside his business obligations as he could, taking her to meal after meal, falling in love as she ate to her heart’s content and shamelessly talked about how she’d rather fallen in love with gaining weight. It titillated and empowered her. By the end of their two week stay in Paris, she was twelve pounds bigger and he had invited her to live with him for a while as she looked for a new career path. She accepted.

Three years later, she’d found her calling without having to leave his luxurious, spacious home. Doing what she loved.

She was almost four hundred and fifty pounds now, last he was updated. She always wore leggings that clung to every lump and bulge of cellulite, and she liked to tease him by wearing crop tops, letting her massive belly and side rolls hang out and wobble as they pleased.

He watched with soft eyes as she stuffed herself with four jelly-filled doughnuts. Between bites she said, “These long hours at your soulless job are no good. My fans want to see more of you.” More eating. “The last time you fed me on camera was weeks ago!”

She gave him an imploring look as she ate a fifth doughnut. Boston creme. Her face, once conventionally pretty, now had a sexy overindulged look. She’d lost her jawline to additional chins and neck fat, and her round, fatty cheeks quivered as she chewed. Even before she finished the fifth doughnut, she picked up a sixth. “And don’t think they haven’t noticed that little tummy you have now.”

“What?” He looked down at himself, blushing at how his tie sat out a bit on slightly stretched white buttons.

Before he could say anything, she pushed a chocolate doughnut in his hand. “I know people willing to pay a pretty petty to see you chunk out.” She smirked. “Pop a couple of those buttons.”

He laughed dismissively, but as he ate the doughnut, he contemplated the press of his new chub against his shirt. His pants felt a little tight in the ass, too, now that he thought about it. What if? he thought.

Suddenly, he found himself admitting: “I’ve been thinking of quitting.”

Her eyebrows rose.

“I want to spend more time with you,” he explained. He hadn’t meant to talk about it now, but here he was. Out of nervousness, he pulled one of the boxes toward himself and picked another doughnut, this one caving in under its sprinkles. He took a heavenly bite. “I have plenty of money saved and invested to take care of both of us for a long time. I just don’t see why I…”

She waddled over to his side of the island and took his free hand. “You know I’d support you.” Then she pulled him closer, into a smiling kiss. “I’ll support you real good.”

*

Before his two week notice even ended, he was eight pounds heavier, and he relished how his coworkers’ eyes lingered on his burgeoning waistline. Soon, his tummy was pushing over his pants. His chest felt thicker. He felt his ass spread wider when he sat down. He ate desserts all the time, and his girlfriend lavished him with attention (food) at every opportunity when he was home, encouraging him to eat in amounts he’d never let himself eat before. She started filming - with his consent, as always - the development of his chubbing up. Her fans loved him even more than they already did, compliments coming in faster than he could read them.

One month into being an unemployed man, she stuffed him on camera until one of his shirt buttons popped off. The experience was more of a revelation for him than even becoming officially overweight; that night, after she went to sleep, he got out of bed, squeezed into an old pair of slacks that barely fit him, then gorged himself in the kitchen until he gasped at the relief of his ass seam tearing open, unable to accommodate his butt, which everyone online said was growing gorgeously fat. His heart fluttered just thinking about it, and he hoped his ass kept growing.

It did.

“I admit, I never thought you’d be this much of a pear,” his girlfriend told him, six months into his steady ballooning. They were admiring his progress in the large bathroom mirror. He may have looked small relative to his partner’s morbid obesity, but somehow, they were both more fascinated with his growth at the moment. She outlined his bottom heavy figure with her hands. Fat had indeed stored most eagerly in his ass, thighs, and hips. His belly drooped soft and wide.

“I love it,” she said. “Love everything about you.” But then something else came into her expression. “Except how you’ve stopped picking up after yourself.”

He swallowed, and said honestly, “Sorry. I know I’m getting lazier.”

“We’ll have to hire a maid.” She grinned wickedly. “Or do two pigs deserve to roll in their sty?”

*

A year into living on his passive income and her subscribers, the couple had not yet hired any cleaning services, and his country club house was...well. Not trashed, but messy and disorganized. She blamed the five pounds she’d lost over the past month on having to constantly throw his trash away. She punished him by making him stand while drinking a whole liter of full-sugar soda. Since he’d developed a strong distaste for any physical effort as he sunk deeper into obesity, he grumbled the whole time. When he finally fell back on the couch, she sat too. Together, they took up most of it. But while she looked perfectly composed, he was panting raggedly, slightly sweaty, a food stain on his pants.

“Look.” She reached out and held his chubby wrist. “I can tell that the fatter you get, the more your natural inclination is to be a pig.” She spoke with total matter-of-factness. As if the emergence of his inner pig was unsurprising and inevitable. “It’s not uncommon in men - that urge to oink and eat as a way of life. But we share this space. I help pay off this house. Please throw away your take out containers.”

Then she added, at his long-suffering sigh, “I’ll reward you.”

He met her gaze. “Tonight?”

“Tonight.”

*

This time, there were no cameras. There was just her, sitting on one side of their king bed and him on the other, breathing heavy, taking her reward one bite at a time.

Everywhere in their bed were containers and packages and napkins and soda bottles. He had eaten mexican and noodles and burgers and fries. He’d eaten candy bars and sundaes and milkshakes and chunky cookies. He was so full he could feel the skin of his belly stretching. He could practically feel the skin of his thighs stretching, as if they were filling up heavier with fat right then, as he was determinedly overfed. He swallowed another bite of greasy cheeseburger.

“Keep going. I can tell you're slowing down, but I’ll have none of that yet. I want to see progress from you.”

“I don’t know…”

“Do you want to feel the ecstasy of squeezing through a doorframe or are you going to plateau at being just fat?”

He let out a breathy moan as he ate another bite of the cheeseburger. His girlfriend knew him too well. She knew he liked the new challenges being big was causing him. She knew it turned him on that he sat so much fatter in his own car, belly pressing against everything, ass barely fitting at all. She knew his hands had begun cupping his hips as a half-unconscious habit, admiring his own width.

He liked how his thighs had to push past each other, jiggling every time. He even liked when he accidentally bumped into things, because it was a hot reminder that he wasn’t the same. He was like her now. He was fat. He was a pig. He wanted to eat and get so big he could barely even waddle. He wanted to squeeze through doorways. He wanted to get stuck.

“I want everything,” he said. And she smiled, temporarily pleased.

*

Thank you to the reader who commissioned this work!

I'd love to write more. Check me out <3 etsy.com/shop/Chubbology

[swordswoman97]

To Technoblade

A letter of the things I'll never get to say but I hope you know all the same.

The last couple days have been rough. I've been crying more these last couple days than I've cried since I was a child. I didn't even realize I could cry this much. But here I am, typing this through tears because I can't help but feel I have to say it. Maybe because I hope it will help me to come to terms with it or maybe just because I feel I have to say it even if it's just screaming it into the void.

You shouldn't have died. You were so young and so strong. I didn't think you would. I was confident you'd recover. Up until the moment I saw your father sitting there instead of gameplay or you yourself I thought you'd get better. I think that's part of why this hurts so much. A part of me wants to be angry for not getting some sort of warning but I can't. I can't be. I'll never know your reasons for keeping the fact it had come back stronger to yourself. I can merely guess.

I miss you. Despite only starting to watch the DSMP in march of 2021 I miss you. Even in that short time your content was comforting and uplifting. You were funny and witty and it never failed to make me smile, no matter how anxious I got about what was playing out in the story. Even if I didn't always agree with the actions your character took, you, both you and your character, never failed to make lore a bit more cheerful. And the videos I watched of you never failed to do it either.

I know you wouldn't want people sitting around wallowing in misery over it and I hope you can forgive me for doing so anyway. I like to believe you will.

I also know you wouldn't want people to forget. I can only promise to try my best. I'm continuing the story I was writing featuring your character. I'm going to try to continue more. It's gonna take time before your death won't make me emotional but I'm gonna keep going until that day.

I wish your friends and family the best. I know whatever pain I'm feeling. it must be a hundred or even thousand times worse for them. That there are reminders of you everywhere. Your family will have to clean out your room, figure out what to do with all your stuff. Phil will have to face all the things you two built together if he ever returns to the dsmp. Phil, Wilbur, and Tommy will always be reminded of you when they play TF2 due to the memories you shared. I hope they can one day play the game again even with all the memories. I hope they can make new ones.

You once said that despite being an atheist you hope God hesitated before sending you to hell. I believe he did neither. I will continue to believe despite not believing God does not hesitate before letting you into heaven. A man as full of love and positivity as you deserves that.

I never realized just how much impact you had on the world until you were gone. Until over ten thousand voices were crying out in grief all in unison. There are actual news articles about your death. Elon musk even made a comment even if it was weird. I wonder how you'd feel about that. You managed to reach over 13 million subscribes since then. You have more than Tommy again. I think you'd like that. Already Hypixel has gathered enough messages for your family to fill over 200 books. You really were important to a lot of people. I hope you know that. You deserved it. You did a lot of good.

Finally I'd just like to say: Thank you. Thank you for making me smile. Thank you for being strong even when it was difficult. Thank you for everything. I hope whatever was waiting for you on the other side holds only happiness, whether that be heaven, becoming one with the universe, or merely being reborn as someone new.

Thank you Technoblade. And as cheesy as it might be to say despite never truly meeting you, I loved you. You were and always will be important to me. I promise to do all I can to keep your memory alive and your legacy with me.

Rest well king. After everything you've done you deserve your rest.

[seasonofthewicth]

Rowaelin Month - Day 9

prompt: co-hosts with chemistry

extras: podcaster!rowaelin, friends to lovers, tooth-rotting fluff!

word count: 2k

--

The podcast had originally been Lysandra’s idea.

She had deemed their regular conversations dissecting each of their dating lives too entertaining to keep to themselves and so it had begun. It hadn’t been very successful and they had only managed to wrangle a small number of subscribers, mostly consisting of their friends and reluctant family members. They’d had fun, but when Lysandra moved to the Southern Continent they hadn’t bothered to keep it up.

Then Aelin got drunk with Fenrys and his new roommate Rowan.

Her drunken self had thought it a fabulous idea to whip out her phone and hit record when Fenrys had begun to weave his story of the beautiful Asterin and her ruthless rejection, Rowan chipping in with quips that always made her cheeks feel a little warmer. That and the sparkle in his green eyes each time he looked at her.

She’d been intrigued by Rowan on day one. He was everything Aelin felt herself drawn to in one big package. Tall, handsome, tattoos, wicked sense of humour, didn’t take any shit, constantly gave her shit. She was charmed.

Until the podcast had taken off.

The inebriated episode featuring Fenrys and Rowan had landed her with a few thousand subscribers. And she had wanted to continue.

Fenrys had rejected her outright, claiming he didn’t need any more public humiliation, the Asterin story had been enough and she understood, but Rowan…

She’s not sure why she even asked Rowan. They weren’t friends, the episode they’d recorded had been the first night they met and they hadn’t spoken since but she’d laid the offer on the table anyway. Despite the fact that hearing all about Rowan Whitethorn’s dating exploits made her stomach twist.

What she knew of Rowan had told her he’d say no too. He hadn’t given her the impression of being particularly easy going, or that spending time with her in the absence of Fenrys would have been something he would consider. In fact, she’d wondered if he’d thought her desire to chat about something as frivolous as dating would be somewhat shallow or childish.

But then he’d said yes.

And so began their tradition. Every Thursday after his final class of the day and Aelin gets home from her office, she uncorks a bottle of wine and makes dinner. Rowan turns up at eight pm sharp each week, armed with a slice of chocolate hazelnut cake and his lilting and charming accent. They set themselves up at the desk in Aelin’s spare bedroom, each with a set of headphones and a microphone and they talk.

That started eight months ago.

Now they have hundreds of thousands of listeners, people who for some unknown reason like to listen to Aelin and Rowan. Aelin doesn’t get it, but here they are.

Aelin tucks her feet under her thighs and rests the arm holding her wine glass along the back of the sofa. They’ve just finished this week’s episode and she’s not ready for Rowan to leave just yet. He turns to her at the motion, a brow cocked in questioning. He looks good, very good.

The light from her TV highlights the cut of his jaw and plays off the silver strands of his hair, flopping onto his forehead. The green of his henley perfectly displays his golden skin and she’s desperately searching for glances of the swirls of ink that peek out of his neckline each time he shifts.

She thought that by spending more time with him her crush would fade. Except now she definitely has a thing for someone who has turned into one of her best friends.

“What’s up with you?” he asks, so aware by now of her moods. He knows when to wait and when to push her, when to joke and when to keep it real.

Aelin shrugs and the motion dislodges her neckline from her shoulder to part way down her arm. Rowan’s eyes dart down tracking the motion but flash back to hers once she speaks.

“I’m thinking about where we go next,” she says slowly. “I don’t know about you but I’m not dating very much recently and I wonder if I’m running out of funny dating stories.”

Rowan’s lips twitch and she uses the time before he speaks to desperately wonder what’s going on in his head. Then he moves his hand to her knee, his touch a comfort and a thrill, and her mind can only focus on that. Can only focus on how good it feels for him to touch her. She doesn’t have the capacity to worry where his head is at when his hands are on her.

“It’s not just you,” he says, on the same wavelength as her as always. “I don’t find myself on many dates anymore.”

He says it without even a whisper of shame, like he’s confident in why that is.

“I can’t tell if I’m thinking too much about the podcast,” she admits, “or if I just don’t want to do it anymore.”

He’s silent, which she usually uses as her prompt to continue, but his hand stays on her knee.

“I have an idea,” she says, shocked again as his eyes meet hers. “It won’t last forever, but I think it could give us a few episodes at least. We turn to other people. We get listeners to share their experiences, their horror stories, their life lessons, their advice, their failures. We give our comments, we compare them, we’re funny. I think it could work.”

She’s so nervous for his thoughts, his opinions matter to her, she wants his approval.

“I think it’s a great idea,” he says as a soft smile creeps onto his lips, tugging up his cheek and she wants to press her lips right there. “We can get people to submit their best stories, review them, add our own additions and commentary and we’re good for a while.”

He pauses, as though there’s more he wants to say. His hand on her knee squeezes and she craves more of his touch, wants his hand to slide higher, wants his fingers to entwine with hers.

Then he says, “I have an idea for an episode.”

She cocks her brow but he shakes his head.

“I need to think it through some more but I’ll let you know as soon as I have a more solid idea.”

It works and she’s relieved her lack of desire to date anyone who isn’t six foot four, silver haired and named Rowan Whitethorn hasn’t needed any expansion and hasn’t so far caused any major problems. Apart from the fact she finds herself getting lost when he talks, unable to respond right away because she’s too busy staring at his lips, his hands, his everything as he speaks.

She’s sure he’s probably noticed but he kindly hasn’t commented.

The idea to get content from their listeners leads her down a path she’s somewhat shocked to realise exists. She’s been trawling twitter to find their content and interacting with a lot more of their listeners and it’s led her to a small corner of twitter dedicated to her and Rowan.

She scrolls and scrolls through tweets that are convinced she and Rowan are either married, fucking or in love. Or if not yet already, they need to be. Aelin doesn’t disagree necessarily, but it’s weird to know people are thinking that, let alone tweeting it.

@/crochanqueen: Aelin’s laugh every time Rowan says something slightly amusing…. girl you’ve got it bad. He’s not that funny.

Gods, she hopes Rowan hasn’t seen these tweets. She needs to watch when she laughs.

“Next submission,” Rowan says, leaning forwards and speaking into his mic. He’s in his usual chair across from her and she has almost unlimited access to the sight of him in all his glory. No wonder it’s hard to concentrate when they record. “This guy says hi, I’ve got it bad for my best friend.”

Aelin swallows. She definitely needs to watch herself for this one.

“A tale as old as time,” she says with a breezy laugh.

“Right,” Rowan says, a tightness to his voice that wasn’t there before, before he turns back to his phone to continue reading. “We’ve known each other for a while now and we spend a lot of time together just the two of us and it’s as easy as breathing. We get along incredibly well, she makes me laugh and she makes me smile. She brightens my day.”

“Gods, this is so sweet,” she coos and Rowan gives her a tight smile. Okay, she’ll let him finish.

“She’s my best friend,” Rowan continues and Aelin bites her lip. “I want more but I don’t want to ruin what we have if she doesn’t feel the same.”

“Hm,” she says, twisting her hands on the table in front of her. She has to manage this one carefully, so as not to give too much away. “Is there any indication of whether she feels the same way?”

Rowan glances back to his phone. “He says; there are moments where I think she feels the same, there are moments where I think I could press my lips to hers and she’d kiss me back. There are moments she looks at me and it looks as though it would be impossible for her not to feel the way I do.”

“She sounds like a lucky girl,” Aelin says almost wistfully.

“You think?” Rowan asks, and she’s not sure his question makes sense.

“Don’t you?” she asks. “If they have these moments, moments where he could kiss her and she’d kiss him back, the moments where they get lost in each other's eyes, I don’t think those things can be made up.”

She ignores the way she always feels as though she catches herself in these moments with Rowan. She ignores them and plows straight on through.

“If he’s having these thoughts enough that they feel like a moment, they probably are.”

“Damn, Aelin.” Rowan smiles across the table. “Any advice for the poor guy?”

“Oh, it’s simple,” she says smoothly, “he has to tell her how he feels. Don’t waste any more time, if you’re reading her this way and she’s your best friend I think there’s very little chance you’ve got this wrong. If you’re listening to this,” she says leaning forwards so her voice is clear in the recording, “get the girl. Take a chance, tell her how you feel. Start small, ask her to go on a date.”

Rowan nods, the movement a sharp jerk but a smile plays on his lips. He looks up to her, his eyes meeting hers.

“Alright, Aelin. Go out with me. A date.”

She laughs, a bright sound, not allowing herself to jump to conclusions. “Is that what it says?”

His eyes flick back to his phone before he locks it and slides it onto the table. “It doesn’t say anything.”

“What do you mean?”

She’s very confused now. Is he playing with her? Has he noticed the way she feels? Surely Rowan isn’t so cruel to mock her like this.

“There’s no submission, it’s me, it’s you. Go out with me Aelin?”

Her mouth drops open.

“Go out with you? You like me?”

She’s stunned okay? Cut her a little slack.

He laughs, a hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. “This was quite possibly not my best idea,” he says. “To go about it like this. I thought it would have worked well.”

“You’re serious?” she says, a smile creeping into her voice.

“As a heart attack.”

She pulls her headset off, needing to feel this moment just the two of them. Rowan does the same, vulnerability shining in his gorgeous, green eyes.

“Rowan,” she breathes. “I’ve been into you since day one. I thought there was no way you were interested in me.”

She stands, rising from her chair and almost floating over to him until she stands between his legs. She gently rests a hand on his shoulder as she leans down. His hands come up to her waist and pull her onto his lap.

She settles with a smile as she reaches up to cup his cheek in her palm.

“I’ll edit this out tomorrow,” is all she says before she closes the gap between them, pressing her lips to his, sealing it with a kiss.

[vaveyard]

In an old post you said you told your agent that you wanted to write the next big YA series

So not only you got introduced to one of the best YA agents out there thanks to luck and connections, without even writing a book... You also have no interest in storytelling and readers and only want money and popularity

RQ was basically a manufactured product, without an ounce of creativity or passion, marketed and hyped just to make money.

No wonder you're struggling so much you write a pilot and the talks of movies vanished like smoke

In the old post about my journey to publication, I told a management company that I wanted to write the next big YA series. I'm happy to explain the context, as I gather you aren't really aware of how the entertainment industry works. This was a general meeting, which is basically just an introduction with no guarantees of anything beyond the 45 minutes. It was also the only general with potential representation that I landed following my very recent graduation from film school in 2012. Namely, I was scared, desperate, and very eager to get signed and pursue the career I wanted my entire life. I pitched a handful of projects, both feature and television, both finished and potential ideas. The last one was the glimmer of Red Queen, and yes, I absolutely said, I want this to be the next big YA series. I want this to be Hunger Games, Divergent, Twilight, etc.

Let's break that down. I'm not going to go too deeply into the difference between entertainment and publishing, but please understand I am very much selling myself, my talent, and my dream. That's how those meetings go. You swing for the damn fences. And you translate. You give tonal references. You talk about a property they know (i.e. The Hunger Games) and say you're next. I did this with my other projects as well (the one that got me in the door was a pilot I pitched as Gossip Girl in the Gilded Age).

One thing I don't understand here is the idea that wanting to be the next big thing, wanting success, wanting your story to be experienced by as many people as possible - somehow, wanting is a bad thing? Or a dirty secret? I guarantee you, we all want our work to blow up. We all want wonderful, passionate readers in the millions and billions. That's totally natural. It's okay to be an artist and want success for your art! I don't subscribe to the idea that we must hide our wants or our dreams.

I will also say in regards to your accusation that my books are "hyped and marketed to make money"....um yeah? Publishing is a business. My publishing house publishes books to make money. They have far more complex business practices than I understand, and hundreds of people dedicated to leveraging books in exactly the right way so this industry can continue to operate on razor thin margins.

And writing is my full time job. Again, it seems to be some dirty secret that writers have to get paid if they want to keep working, or else have another avenue of income. I certainly didn't get into writing, either screen or prose, to make money. I pursued this because it is my true passion, and I deeply feel this is my purpose in life. It also happens to be how I make money now, and I'm extremely lucky to be in this position.

In regards to meeting my agent through good luck - yes, absolutely, and I've never said anything otherwise. In hindsight I know exactly how many bullets I dodged when my industry contact sent the completed manuscript* of Red Queen to New Leaf. And Suzie ended up reading it in a weekend.

*Yes, completed manuscript. A book was written. I was never signed with anyone until RQ was a finished draft. In fact, Suzie didn't sign me until after we did a revision together.

And yes, the talk of a RQ movie "vanished like smoke" because we decided to pursue adapting the show as a television/streaming series. You can't try to make one property into two mediums. I'm very happy with our pilot process (the story is so much better suited to a series) and again, I've been so, so lucky in the team we have. Beth Schwartz is my showrunner and she has been a truly excellent partner so far!

You can believe whatever you like about me, or my intentions as a creator. I really don't mind. I know exactly how much passion, drive, desperation, fear, and luck goes into my work. I'm not sure what your intention is with this message, but thanks for giving me the opportunity to clarify what was confusing to you. Be well. I hope you look more kindly on other creators than you do on me.

[imjusttpeachy]

she's a rae of sunshine (c.h.)

okay so this was a request but i completely read it wrong so i’m gonna write it again but i finished this one anyway so here take it

so sorry to the anon who requested it bc u were so fuckin sweet i’ll have it up asap i promise

playlist

ralph castelli - morning sex

crumb - bones

jorja smith - teenage fantasy

summary: balancing college life and wanting to support your best friends online endeavors was difficult, but reader regrets trying a little harder when she finally meets one of her newer stream-mates

word count: 2, 828

WARNINGS: she/her pronouns used, coarse language, lowkey OOC Corpse, that needs its own warning i’m sorry,

•••

“Look you knew I had to stream before I said you could come over ya fuckin idiot.”

“Yea I knowwwww, I just wanted to spend more time with my super-hot best friend forever.”

Being the best friend of an online personality had its perks— the amazing trips you got to hitch a ride on, the adoring fans that seemed to latch on to you as well, the sponsorships that would always send you something along with the original PR package, and especially the way she was able to choose their own work hours.

Well... mostly.

As much as you adored spending time together during the day, whether it be shopping or going out for brunch, those late nights that always seemed to hold the most memories you held so dear were few and far between. Of course, you couldn’t blame her; responsibilities were responsibilities, and fuck if you’d let your selfish wants override the way she chooses to get her work done. You really couldn’t be one to judge either-- having to call off dates because you’d underestimated the time you needed to complete a school paper, or when a last-minute lab was called in and you’d have to leave her sitting alone in those cafes with your half-finished mocha and a promise to Venmo her the money to cover it later. What left you feeling the most guilty, though, was the fact that you weren’t able to watch her content as much as you’d like to. Sure, you’d catch a few minutes of a stream here and there but any time you spent apart was usually spent with your head buried in a book, mind bleary with countless espresso shots trying to keep your tired eyes focused on the seemingly unending work in front of you.

But, a distraction every now and then couldn’t hurt. Right?

Having had enough of your current assignment, any coherent thought was long gone, you’d decided to pay your favourite person a little visit. You knew she’d probably be busy as she hadn’t replied to your previous text for a few hours, but knowing her presence alone and any passing comments would lift the heaviness that had found its home in your head and chest, you shot her a message to let her know that her office couch would be occupied by you for the next few hours. Normally, you’d just show up so you knew she wouldn’t have a problem with it; so when that fateful message popped up on your phone giving you the go-ahead you completely ignored the warning of her work schedule and drove right over.

So now here you were, sprawled haphazardly on her couch clad in sweats and a sports bra scrolling through your phone as you watched her finish her final touches so she could start her stream.

“You’re gonna be in the background of my face cam if you wanna sit there y’know.” Groaning in response to her warning not wanting to move from the comfy spot you just found, you looked over at her with the best puppy eyes you could muster. She chuckled softly, raising her hands in surrender as she turned back to her setup. “Hey I really don’t care, just warning ya bug. The thirst comments and screenshots are outta my hands.”

Scoffing under your breath at her comment, you turned your head back to your phone as a Twitter notification popped up at the top of your screen.

Corpse Husband: streaming among us in a few mins, join in on youtube

Heartbeat picking up slightly, you scrambled for the purse you’d thrown at the base of the couch for your headphones. Ever since you’d found this handsome-voiced stranger’s channel on your late night horror binges, you had fallen completely in love. While you weren’t typically the type to watch video game commentary outside of Rae, his voice got you completely hooked and you couldn’t get enough of it. Yeah, maybe you were a bit of a simp, but that sweet and genuine personality that hid behind that gravelly tone had you melting completely into his clutches. You tried to convince yourself to get over it, you didn’t even know what he looked like. But, y’know, a little crush wouldn’t hurt anybody right?

“Going live in T-minus 30 seconds babe.” Jumping slightly as Rae’s voice knocked you out of dreamland, you mumbled out a small “got it” as you once again got focused on getting your headphones connected to your phone. You’d never been able to watch one of his lives before, his horror commentary videos usually playing as background noise as you did schoolwork or while you were falling asleep. Practically shaking with excitement, you opened your YouTube app seeing the live at the very top and tapping on it immediately only to be met with that sweet laugh ringing through your headphones like music to your ears. You grinned to yourself, grabbing the throw pillow you had previously tossed to the floor and hugging it to your chest while your eyes remained glued to your phone screen, completely forgetting what was happening around you as you zeroed in on the gravelly tone you’d fallen oh-so in love with.

“Hey (Y/N) wave hi.” You startled slightly as the faint voice of your friend sounded from across the room. Glancing up from your phone, you pulled an earbud from your ear and furrowed your brows at her before slowly processing what she said, lifting a hand in greeting to her watchers. She laughed at your confusing antics, turning slightly in her chair to look over at you. “What the hell are you so smiley about?”

“…Nothing..” You grinned widely as her laugh once again resounded around the room, shaking her head at you before turning back to her screen with a scoff, muttering something under her breath so only her watchers could hear. Smile still plastered across your lips, you settled back down into the comfiness of the couch and popped your earbud back in, zeroing in again on the screen in front of you. Watching as Corpse moved his character around the lobby as he waited for his friends to join, a small giggle escaped from under your breath; trying your best to be mindful of Rae’s stream but not being able to hold back the flustered feeling welling up in your chest, mind giddy with the thought of finally being able to see one of his famous live streams, well, live. It had only been a few seconds later when you heard Rae’s voice once again, only this time, not as muffled as before.

“What’s up motherfuckers.” Brows furrowing in confusion, you lifted your hand to your earbud and pulled it from your ear once again, hearing her voice from across the room but from your other earbud as well. No, there was no fucking way. All your questions were answered, though, as you glanced back down at your phone screen seeing a red character move around the game lobby along with Corpse’s, the gamer tag ‘Valkyrae’ floating just above it. Blinking hard at your screen trying to convince yourself that your eyes were lying to you, you slowly pulled your hand to cover your mouth in shock. How… How could you possibly not know they knew each other? With the way they spoke to each other in sarcastic comments, poking fun at the other it sounded like they were close too. Body finally catching up with your thoughts, you scrambled at your phone, shaky hands moving as quickly as they could to pull up your texts with Rae. Your fingers tapped furiously at the screen, anxious to get back to the live stream to listen in more but also needing to know what the fuck was going on.

TO my rae of sunshine: care to explain what the fuck is going on??! how the fuck do you know corpse husband?????!??!

“Oops sorry guys, guess I forgot to turn off my phone ringer-“ Staring up at the back of her head helplessly, you watched as she picked up her phone seeming to read out the text before bursting into a peal of laughter. Tossing a look at you over her shoulder, you looked back down at your phone bashfully, seeing the three loading dots in your message thread indicating that she was messaging you back.

my rae of sunshine: lol what about it? you gotta crush on him or something?

TO my rae of sunshine: …no

Hitting send you rushed back to the stream, anxious to see what Corpse was saying in response to Rae’s absence, not thinking anything about your brief conversation and thinking you would discuss it after she had logged off for the night. Though, as you heard her phone chime again from across the room followed by another bark of laughter, you knew you weren’t getting off that easy.

“What are you laughing about?” Corpse’s honeyed voice sounded from your earbud, hearing Rae’s giggles from what you presumed to be their discord voice chat. Glancing anxiously between his stream and the reflection of Rae’s face cam in one of her monitors, your heart began to sink as you watched that familiar mischievous grin tugging at the edge of her lips.

“Oh just my friend (Y/n) sent me a funny meme”

“Wait, is she the one in some of your Instagram posts?” You swear your heart stopped beating at that moment, eyes glued to the screen in front of you as you tried helplessly to process the conversation happening right in front of you. He knew who you were? You thought you’d always be lost among the hundreds of thousands of his new adoring fans, left in the anonymity of your Twitter tag in his subtweets, or just another subscriber that fawned over him silently behind a keyboard. Knowing that he’d actually seen your face you could feel your own beginning to heat at that moment; you brought your hands your mouth again, unknowingly curling your body tighter around the pillow in your lap as you tried to hide your face behind it as you become more and more flustered from the words nonchalantly escaping his mouth.

“Yea that’s her, pretty thing isn’t she? She’s my absolute favourite.”

That’s it, you were gonna fucking kill her.

“I mean, yeah... I guess..” The timid words followed by a soft awkward chuckle had your breath hitching in your throat. There was no fucking way this was happening. This had to be a dream, that was the only possible explanation. You were just about to pinch yourself when Rae’s voice startled you from your thoughts.

“She’s actually over right now. She insisted on getting wine drunk later tonight because her professor’s been on her ass lately. I’ll get her to come say hi.” Rae had barely turned around in her chair when she was met with your wide-eyed gaze, panic painted across your features as you shook your head wildly. You were in no state to be talking to your long-time internet crush in such a casual setting. But with the look Rae shot you from her chair as she started to plug another headset into her PC, you knew you had no choice and begrudgingly pulled yourself from the couch almost tripping over your own feet as you shakily walked over to Rae. Shooting her another pleading look, she only shoved the headset in your direction in return as she grinned up at you. Finally biting the bullet, you pulled on the headset and leaned down toward the mic.

“Hi, how’s it going?” Cursing at yourself for how quiet and shaky your words came out, you barely had any time to think it over before a chorus of greetings sounded through the headset. A small giggle escaped your lips as you watched the different Discord icons appear and disappear from the top of the screen. You knew most of these people already which made you even more confused as to how you managed to miss that voice from all the discord chats and voice calls. Well, knowing them was a bit of an overstatement anyway; you knew /of/ them, and they knew /of/ you in the other times you popped up in the background or in passing conversation during Rae’s streams. They did know you well enough, though, to know this was not the way you usually spoke around them.

“No way, that can’t be the (Y/N) I know!” The voice you recognize as Sean echoes through your headset, another chorus of knowing laughter following quickly after. Taking a deep breath you managed to force out a few words that would get them off your case.

“…Shut the fuck up”

“There she is!!” As the group erupted in laughter yet again, all you could focus on was the faint deep chuckle that resounded through your headset. Feeling your face start to heat up, you covered your wide grin with your hand as butterflies burst through your stomach; you could listen to that laugh all day. Before you were able to speak again, though, that heavenly voice piped up and wiped all train of thought from your mind.

“Nice to meet you (Y/N).”

“It’s nice to meet you too Corpse. I gotta be honest ‘n say I’m a pretty big fan of your no-sleep work.” And... there’s the word vomit. Fuck, you could feel your cheeks starting to heat up with the ongoing realization of who you were talking to.

“Aha thank you, I uh really appreciate that. I’m sure you just heard, but I guess you could say I’m a fan of yours also.”

No.

No, there’s no fucking way.

Is he...

Flirting with you?

Before you could even think about what to reply to that with, the rest of the group beat you to it.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what is happening.”

“CORPSE! You SIMP!”

“Is- Is Corpse really shooting his shot right now?”

You didn’t realize you were frozen in place until you felt Rae’s hand on your elbow, snapping you out of your bewildered trance as you tried to comprehend what was happening yourself. As your thoughts finally caught up to the present, you could feel your cheeks start to burn; pulling your hand up to cover your face you stepped out of the view of the face cam. Rae’s laughter filled the room as she watched your flustered antics, shooting you a sly grin as she started scanning the monitor displaying her live chat.

“Wait, wait, chats telling me (y/n)’s blushing right now?” Sean’s voice echoed through the discord chat, only making you flush further as you tried desperately to find a way out of this.

“Okay, okay, leave her alone.” Corpse’s voice finally piped up amid all of the chaos causing everyone to immediately pipe down. God, you didn’t even want to begin to think of the mess this has already made, you just needed to get out of there before you caused any more damage.

“Yeah, I uh- see- see that the lobby’s full so I’ll just uh- leave you guys to it.” Quietly thanking the stars that Corpse finally got you out of this mess, you went to pull the headset off your ears when that fateful voice piped up again.

“Wait, don’t let these nerds make you leave. You should stay- I mean, only to help Rae y'know? She needs it.”

“I do not!”

“I- I mean yea sure, as long as I’m not intruding,” Cursing yourself again for stuttering before forcing yourself to swallow the knot in your throat, “I mean, she really does need the help.”

“Okay just because you want to flirt some more doesn’t mean you can bully me-“

“Okay, I’m starting the round!” The booming accented voice cut off everyone else in the call as you all stared as the screen began to count down to the game, and before anyone had the chance to say anything else a chorus of laughs resounded, and then the lobby fell into silence.

•••

And it went on like that, the not-so-subtle flirting followed by relentless jabs from the group immediately after. The game was almost forgotten with how much of each lobby was taken up by teasing words and endless laughter, but every audience was just eating it up. You didn’t even want to think about the mess social media was going to be after this stream but right now you were having fun with your friends and that’s all that mattered. The grin was practically plastered on your face as you laughed along with Rae the chat during the gameplay portions and you knew everything from this moment on was gonna be different, but you couldn’t find a single thing within you to care.

Especially when you logged onto Twitter right after the stream and saw that little message right at the top of your requests.

@.corpsehusband: wanna hear some of that no sleep work in person?

•••

beep bop here u go,

[ephrom]

Lily Orchard's Totally Noncontroversial Opinions

One of the things Lily Orchard does that actually pisses me off about her is she constantly tries to paint herself as the totally normal and reasonable one--while the fact that everybody else dislikes her is merely a coincidence. It's part of the "silent majority" framing used by such people as Richard Nixon. This notion that actually everybody agrees with me but the vocal minority is drowning out their voices for one reason or another.

This is the same woman who just a month and a half ago released a video where she said the reason lesbians write about abuse so much is because of an anime from the 1990s.

I commentated on this video awhile back, and it's currently my most popular commentary and my only one with over five thousand views.

Seriously, to give everybody an idea of how far this video has spread compared to my usual work, MangaKamen--somebody with over one hundred thousand subscribers and who I previously had a relationship with made up of nothing more than me insulting his girlfriend--found it and liked it.

It's actually funny, by the way, because this video took off at around the same time the entire slideshow commentary community was grilling me for an admittedly terrible commentary on Fractured Light which I will not be talking about further in this post. If you want to know more about that situation, I'd recommend just watching Berylchord's video, as it goes into every reason why that commentary was so hated and deserved to be.

Anyway, I mention this because Beryl's video on me really deserves more views than it's gotten. It is by far the best commentary on me made so far--and I hope it remains the best for quite a long time. (Because I hope in the future I don't need nearly hour long commentaries made on me.) Oh, it also started the meme of Toganium being my boyfriend, and that alone is worth Beryl getting to at least one hundred subscribers.

Okay, back to Lily Orchard. In my commentary on her, I point out that the actual reason for this is most likely because lesbian relationships have a higher rate of domestic abuse than any other form of relationships. This is for several reasons, among them that society as a whole really only views men of even being capable of abuse (and even then, usually only against women) so the idea of a female abusing somebody is already questionable to the majority of the population. Put that together with a dogmatic demand from a handful of LGBT rights groups that no abusive homosexual relationships be shown in mainstream media and you end up in a situation where both women engaging in abuse and homosexual abuse are seen as basically non-existent. The general population could hardly imagine either of them happening on their own, let alone both happening at the same time.

This was talked about by TheMysteriousMrEnter back in 2015 in a video I highly recommend watching.

I also know for a fact that Lily has admitted to the second one, saying so in her two hour video on Steven Universe.

This is a fairly common view among LGBT social thinkers--but Lily's view that it's because of an anime is supposed to be the non-controversial one? This is also the same woman who not only hates The Rocky Horror Picture Show, but also has compared those who enjoy it with those who suffer from Stockholm syndrome. (Side note: Do not look up "Lily Orchard Stockholm" ever.)

Don't get me wrong, Lily Orchard has every right to not like this movie and argue its aged poorly in this or that way--I'd argue those reasons are poorly informed--as I have in another commentary that can be viewed here:

You know it's good because it caused some weirdo on the internet to unofficially transvestigate me--in a comment I couldn't find. I could find my reply pointing out that a surprising amount of people think I'm transgender though.

This is something Lily has done for years, by the way. In 2016, she released a 3AM Ramble criticizing the idea that she's polarizing.

To be fair, she does make some good points--mostly regarding how most criticism of her critical skills at the time was little more than "you're so arrogant"--but her attempts to prove that she's not controversial simply fall flat. The most she gives is that there are other more controversial things you could do (which is the fallacy of relative comparison) and that most of her videos don't have more likes than dislikes. Of course, even if you are a controversial figure, it's more likely that a fan is going to watch any of your videos than somebody who is critical of you, so the ratings are naturally skewed to be on the higher side.

I also want to note this video is one of many where she calls the YouTube audience, and even her own audience, a bunch of vapid morons that she is better than. On one hand, she'll say she's not actually as arrogant as she pretends to be in Glass of Water, and then she'll say that most people are idiots and she's one of the cognitive elite.

What's especially notable is she denies her work being controversial, all while claiming that Glass of Water is contrarian as a series. If an opinion being expressed is different from the mainstream, then by definition it's at least somewhat controversial. And again, what's especially notable is the fact that Lily does not even have to hide this--she's literally saying this and not understanding how it disproves the other things that she says.

Mind you, the point is not to actually think about how people respond to her opinion, it's just to make herself look more mainstream than she actually is. Lily is supposed to be the person who talks for everybody but who mainstream culture just won't listen to. She's another member of contrarian counter-culture, and everything she does should be seen as such.

[writer-ish]

The 3rd Annual Bloom Edenbrook Fundraising Gala

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x f!MC (Dr. Brooke Spiers) Word Count: 2.9k Rating: Mostly T (innuendo, language, smooches)

Premise: Dr. Brooke Spiers and Dr. Ethan Ramsey get coerced into answering anonymous questions submitted by generous donors at this year's hospital fundraising gala. They have about as much fun with it as you'd expect.

This idea is all thanks to THIS ASK from the lovely @lem-20. The concept and all questions are hers! Thank you, darling Leah! ♥️

Author’s Note: My first time with a mixed-media type post(!!!) and the writing part has been done almost script-style, similar to the "Not Yet Wed" questions courtesy of @jamespotterthefirst, which you can find HERE. Hope you all enjoy. 🥰

Tickets

Bonus Raffle

SETTING - Diagnostics Office - 5:15 PM

TWO DOCTORS in formal attire sit across from one another. The male, DR. ETHAN RAMSEY, late-30s, devastatingly handsome, leans against a desk, arms crossed. The female, DR. BROOKE SPIERS, late-20s, charmingly attractive, sits on a larger table further away, legs swinging.

Ethan: I can't believe you talked me into this.

Brooke: [smirking] Why does this feel like deja vu?

Ethan: You know exactly why. You coerced me into the same sort of nonsense in your intern year for that magazine—whatever it was.

Brooke: Yeah, and remember how much publicity the hospital got that year? You're welcome.

Ethan: How can you be sure our "publicity" had to do with that article and not the fact that a first-year intern stole from a large pharamceutical company to administer an unapproved drug to—

Brooke: [hands up] Okay, okay, we get it. Regardless, you have to admit I was responsible for all the publicity. [grins]

Ethan: [can't help but grin back] Touche. [sighs deeply] Let's go home.

Brooke: Can't, babe. We're the main event.

Ethan: How did this even come about? Is there not some code of ethics against this sort of thing?

Brooke: [laughs] It's just staff and donors. All adults. We're showing that we're good sports and it's for a good cause.

Ethan: [grumbles] I don't know why people care so much about us.

Brooke: You don't? I mean, have you seen us?

Ethan: [dryly] And so humble, too.

Brooke: Lord knows you aren't with me for my humility.

Ethan: Indeed. [picks up a glass from the desk at his side, swirling the amber liquid] Well, I hope you're prepared.

Brooke: [amused] Prepared?

Ethan: You're used to me being reticent in situations like this and holding back? [downs the liquid in one shot] Not today.

Brooke: [wary] What does that mean?

DR. RAMSEY stands up, crossing the room towards DR. SPIERS until the latter is forced to open her legs to accommodate his presence. He braces a hand on either side of her, leaning forward until their lips are almost touching. Her face flushes. He notices, and a slow, lazy smile spreads.

Ethan: It means [kisses her slightly open mouth softly] I'm answering all their questions.

Brooke: [giggles nervously] All of them? But what if—

Ethan: [punctuating each word with a kiss] All. Of. Them.

He leans forward and captures her mouth in a deep, searing kiss. Her arms twine around his neck and she lets out a soft moan. Drawing her ankles around his legs she pulls him even closer and he places one hand on the desk as the other glides up her back. They stay like that, interlocked for a moment, before he pulls away.

Brooke: [eyes still closed] Hmph.

Ethan: Let's go get this over with.

Brooke: [slowly opens eyes and peers at him, disgruntled] What kinds of questions do you think people are submitting?

Ethan: Like you said, Dr. Spiers... [a slow smile spreads] Have you seen us?

DR. SPIERS laughs as she follows DR. RAMSEY out.

A.N. PLEASE do not look too closely at this very badly photoshopped pic 😂

SETTING - Bloom Edenbrook Hospital, Main Atrium - 6:25 PM

Our two doctors sit beside each other on a makeshift stage. A semi-recognizable third-year resident is the host for the evening. DR. RAMSEY dusts an imaginary piece of lint off his sleeve. DR. SPIERS has her hands in lap, knee shaking slightly. Noticing, Dr. Ramsey reaches over and rests his hand on her leg. She looks over with a small smile and places her hand over his.

Thank you to our very own Chief of Medicine, Dr. Ethan Ramsey, and his partner, head of the Diagnostics Team, Dr. Brooke Spiers, for being here with us today for a good cause. Dr. Ramsey and Dr. Spiers, are you prepared to answer some questions provided by our generous, anonymous donors?

Brooke: Sure, why not.

Ethan: [through gritted teeth] For a good cause.

Alright, excellent. I will be drawing these questions at random. Thank you to all who donated for the opportunity to submit a question.

Dr. Ramsey and Dr. Spiers, you will both be posed a question. If you choose to answer, you must both answer. If you choose not to, you must match the donation made by the donor, in lieu of a verbal response. Are you ready to begin?

Ethan: Mmm.

Brooke: [nervous laugh] I suppose.

Alright, here we go!

First question: If he/she could take one thing to a desert island what would it be?

Brooke: Me.

[Audience whoops and laughs]

Ethan: [can't hide his smirk, before clearing his throat] Brooke would take her phone. Heaven forbid she can't post about something on Pictagram.

Brooke: It's true. I'm sorry for being such a young millennial needy for external validation.

What are your nicknames for each other?

Brooke and Ethan: [look at each other. Brooke laughs.]

Ethan: Just say it.

Brooke: I mean, it's nothing too embarassing. I call him babe usually, or baby sometimes if I'm feeling extra nice. He calls me—[blushes and looks over at Ethan]

Ethan: [sighs] 'My love'. I call her 'my love'.

[Audience "awwww"s]

Who’s the better cook?

Brooke: Oh, Ethan. A hundred percent.

Ethan: It's true.

Brooke: I'm abysmal.

Ethan: Normally I would demur when it comes to Dr. Spiers' perceived faults, but in this case she's correct.

Brooke: Thanks, babe.

Ethan: You have many wonderful qualities that don't involve ovens, my love.

[A squeal from the audience that sounds suspiciously like Sienna]

Who has the last word in an argument?

[simultaneously] Brooke: Ethan Ethan: Brooke

[They look at each other]

Brooke: [laughs incredulously] Seriously?

Ethan: You think I don't hear you muttering to yourself after you walk away, almost every single time?

Brooke: Oh, so cursing your name and your very existence counts as the last word and not you shouting [affects deep voice] "And that's final!"? Duly noted.

Ethan: I don't sound like that or say that.

Brooke: Mm, sure.

Who is best at keeping secrets?

Brooke: Uh, neither of us?

Ethan: I had a secret once and it was hell keeping it.

Brooke: You've had a couple.

Ethan: True. I'm done with secrets.

Brooke: In lighter news, we kept [gestures between the two of them] this thing a secret for a bit. No?

Ethan: [opens his mouth to agree, when he's interrupted by a shout from the audience—]

Audience member that sounds suspiciously like Elijah: Nope! We all knew!

[Audience loudly murmurs in agreement]

Brooke: Never mind, then.

Who wears the trousers in the relationship?

Ethan: Neither of us subscribes to antiquated beliefs of superiority in a relationship. We're partners and teammates and work together accordingly. Sometimes she helps and guides me and sometimes I do the same for her. There is no one person who holds higher ground over the other and to imply otherwise would be foolish.

Brooke: [literal heart eyes at Ethan] What he said. [stage whisper] Except it's me.

[Audience laughs as Ethan rolls his eyes]

What is his/her worst habit?

Brooke: Workaholic, poor communication skills, yells first and asks questions later… I could go on.

Ethan: Charming. I have two words for you: messy packrat.

Brooke: Excuse me?

Ethan: If I had a nickel for every useless piece of garbage you kept "just in case" or for each article of clothing on the floor of my bedr—[clears throat] Just trust me.

Brooke: [smirks and whispers against Ethan's ear so only he can hear] Sorry, who is responsible for my clothes on the floor…?

Ethan: [says nothing but smirks as well]

[Audience murmurs in scandal]

What three words would you use to describe them?

Brooke: Hmm. Let me think.

Ethan: Passionate, caring, intelligent.

Brooke: [looks at him fondly] You came up with those fast.

Ethan: [matter-of-factly] I could give them ten more easily.

[Audience "awww"s]

Brooke: [to the audience] No, no, no don't be fooled, he doesn't mean only the flattering words, trust me.

Ethan: I believe it's your turn.

Brooke: Dedicated, compassionate, brilliant.

Ethan: [smiles softly at Brooke, who avoids his gaze. He reaches over and squeezes her hand.]

Brooke: [mutters] Yeah, yeah.

What celebrity do you/they think they most look like?

[Both Ethan and Brooke look at the announcer quizzically.]

Brooke: Celebrity? Uhh…

Ethan: I don't even know how I would begin to answer this question.

Brooke: Ryan Reynolds?

[Audience laughs and loudly disagrees]

Ethan: Who?

Brooke: [laughs and shakes her head] I don't know! I just named a random hot guy. You name a redhead actress. Jessica Chastain?

Ethan: [confused] Do you mean Jessica Rabbit?

Brooke: No I don't mean— [looks at him incredulously] Are you saying you think I look like Jessica Rabbit?

Ethan: No, I thought that's what you were saying and I was about to tell you how incorrect you were. Er, that is to say—

Brooke: I feel like you're digging yourself into a hole here.

Ethan: Agreed.

Who is the most vain?

Ethan: Both of us have more pressing concerns than our physical appearance.

Brooke: Ethan.

Ethan: [splutters]

Brooke: If you're going based off who spends more time on their hair in the bathroom? Ethan.

Ethan: [crosses his arms and glowers, but doesn't disagree]

What is his/her guilty pleasure?

Brooke: Ethan's is cooking shows, particularly Nigella.

Ethan: It's true. Brooke's is high calorie indulgences like—what's the freezer cake you made me buy the other day? With no identifiable or even passably edible ingredients?

Brooke: Ooh, Deep 'n Delicious. So good.

Ethan: [rolls eyes] Yes, because we all need our daily dose of hydrogenated oils and preservatives.

If they had a free pass, which celebrity would they choose to sleep with?

[Look at each other blankly]

Brooke: Uhh… Nigella?

Ethan: This Ryan Reynolds fellow?

Brooke: [laughs] I don't even like him!

Ethan: So who, then?

Brooke: [crosses her arms] I notice you didn't deny Nigella.

Ethan: This question is stupid. Next question.

Where and when did you go on your first date?

Brooke: Derry Roasters

Ethan: What? No. I took you to Sorellina—

Brooke: What, three years after we first met? No. Our first date was Derry Roasters when you caught me following you that time.

Ethan: Ah, so she finally admits it. I thought at the time I was… what was it, "paranoid"?

Brooke: [laughs only a touch guiltily] Did I say that?

Ethan: So you're treating the first time you trailed after me to the local coffee shop as our first date?

Brooke: Well, you paid.

Ethan: Yeah, after you "forgot" your wallet.

Brooke: What, you thought I pursued you for your good looks? No, sir. I like a man with deep pockets. Plus, you know how I know it was a first date?

Ethan: Please, enlighten me.

Brooke: You ordered for me and I didn't get annoyed and it was horrible, but I still drank the whole thing.

Ethan: The espresso Romano is not horr—

Brooke: Horrible. Coffee and lemon? [shudders] That's how I knew I was into you.

Ethan: [intrigued] Really? Way back then?

Brooke: [nods, blushing slightly, and rolls her eyes] Oh brother, don't act so shocked. You knew.

[Audience laughs and whoops]

Ethan: [shell-shocked face showing he absolutely did not know]

Where was your first kiss?

Brooke: [sheepishly] Miami.

[Audience murmurs in surprise]

Ethan: [sighs] Yes.

Brooke: Is that—are Harper and Naveen exchanging money?

Naveen: [from the audience] Dr. Emery should know better than to question my instincts!

Ethan: [loudly groans] Next question.

Who is the loudest in bed?

Brooke: [yelps and, remembering Ethan's earlier warning, throws her hand over his mouth]

Ethan: [from behind her hand] You probably could have made the answer less obvious.

Brooke: [blushes and groans]

[Audience roars its approval]

Which of your friends do you think he/she is most likely to have a crush on?

Brooke: Ohhh, this is awkward.

Ethan: My friends?

Brooke: Considering we can list your friends on one hand…and some of them intersect with mine. [bites lip] What do we do with this one?

Ethan: [to the host] What did the donor pay?

Sorry?

Ethan: To submit this question. How much?

Oh, uhh—[checks] $200.

Ethan: I'll write you a cheque for $200. Next question.

Brooke: [shakes her head laughing] All the questions, huh?

Ethan: At my discretion, yes.

Bryce: [from the audience] You know the answer was me for both of you, anyway!

Ethan: [scoffs] Fat chance, Lahela.

Brooke: [pointedly silent, staring straight ahead]

Ohh-kay. Next question. Who had feelings first?

Brooke: Ha, me. For sure.

Ethan: Are you sure?

Brooke: [looks at him incredulously] I just told you I liked you even after you bought me lemon coffee at Derry Roasters three years ago. [sits up to look at him more fully] No chance you liked me earlier than that. I mean, like-liked me.

Ethan: "Like-liked you"? Are we twelve?

Brooke: You know what I mean. You were such a grouch and I was just your annoying intern.

Ethan: [irritatedly] The annoying intern I kissed in Miami, what, a week later? Is that how obvious my lack of feelings for you were?

Brooke: [opens her mouth to respond and then closes it again]

Ethan: That's what I thought.

Who’s more dramatic?

Brooke: Ethan.

Ethan: I am absolutely not—

Brooke: See? Honestly, he's exhausting.

Ethan: [glowers]

Who has the weirdest orgasm face?

Brooke: Weirdest?

Ethan: Oh for the love of—

$5000 to not answer this one, doctors.

Brooke and Ethan: [jaws drop simultaneously]

Brooke: Someone paid five-thousand dollars—

Ethan: What kind of a pervert—? Fine, say it's me.

Brooke: It's really not.

Ethan: [quietly] Well, it's certainly not you.

Brooke: Yeah, but—

I believe we have our answer!

Ethan: We'll take it. Next!

What are you most likely to argue about?

Ethan: Brooke believes I could be more communicative about my feelings, especially when I have a problem.

Brooke: You do listen!

Ethan: Of course. We also argue about when she's going to move in with me.

[Audience gasps and murmurs in gleeful scandal]

Brooke: [jaw drops] Ethan!

Ethan: It's true. [turns to host] I believe it should have already happened. She believes she needs to maintain a tenuous hold on a bedroom she rarely occupies for a group of roommates who would be happy for her to move on.

Brooke: [fuming] Of all the high-handed—

Jackie, from the audience: He's right, girl, bigger and better awaits.

Brooke: [through gritted teeth, as Sienna, Ethan, and Aurora all nod and give her thumbs up] Maybe this is something we can talk about later—

Ethan: Whatever you say, my love.

Brooke: Oh, yeah, now with the "my love"s—

On that note! Here is our final question.

What’s the most romantic thing they’ve done for you?

Ethan: [looks at Brooke, who is still glowering] Most romantic?

Brooke: [glares]

Ethan: With Brooke, it's the little things. She'll notice when I'm having a bad day and bring me my favourite donut. Or a well-timed hand on my shoulder or knee when she can see I'm getting riled up.

Brooke: [glare softens a bit]

Ethan: She's thoughtful and kind and extremely empathetic. She knows what I need even before I know that I need it. It's not—candlelit dinners or what have you, but I've already prided myself on being a practical person and this intersection of—of practicality and care? That's what I find… [struggles to get the word out] romantic.

[Audience "awww"s]

Brooke: [screws up her mouth before leaning over to kiss Ethan on the cheek] Okay, that was sweet. [Thoughtfully] Most romantic thing Ethan has done for me? Well… [side-eyes him, before continuing] The HAZMAT suit sleepover last year was probably up there.

Ethan: [uncomfortable] I don't want that to be classified as—

Brooke: You were there for me at a time when I needed you most. If that's not romance, I don't know what is.

Ethan: [increasingly agitated] That's not romance, dammit, that's—that was a necessity. That was vital. I needed to be there. I needed to make sure you—that you—[cuts himself off, clenching his jaw]

Brooke: [eyes soft as she looks at him. Reaching out she rests her hand on top of his clenched fist until it unfurls slowly underneath hers and he releases his breath slowly] See? [softly] Romance.

Ethan: [sighs deeply, then links his fingers with hers and gruffly kisses the top of her hand] All this tells me is that I've neglected you on the "romance" side of things.

Brooke: [still smiling softly] No complaints. [looks out at the audience] Are we done here? [affects a deep voice] Are you not entertained?

Ethan: [fondly] And she says I'm the dramatic one.

I think we got what we needed, doctors. Thank you for helping out for a good cause. This raffle ticket session alone raised a total of $23,000 for Bloom Edenbook Hospital!

Ethan: [dumbfounded] That is insane.

Brooke: I promise we aren't that interesting.

The people beg to differ. Round of applause for Dr. Brooke Spiers and Dr. Ethan Ramsey for being such good sports. Until next time, doctors!

Ethan: [over thunderous applause] There absolutely won't be a next time.

Brooke: [laughs and stands up, smoothing out her dress]

Audience member that sounds suspiciously like Jackie: Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!

Rest of the audience chimes in: Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!

Brooke: [crosses her arms, smirking at Ethan]

Ethan: Oh for the love of— [acts like he's walking away, then loops an arm around her waist and pulls her close, tilting her back and kissing her thoroughly]

[Audience roars its approval]

Ethan: [pulls away slowly and sets her upright, chucking her chin with an affectionate and slightly devilish smirk. He starts to guide her away from the host and off the makeshift stage]

Brooke: [mutters, still a bit dazedly] Told you. Drama.

[Laughing, they walk off stage together.]

[css1992]

Guilty Pleasure

Summary:  Peter and Beck used to be a power couple in the porn industry, but after Beck dumps him, Peter is forced to start over. With no money, no family and nowhere to go, he doesn’t have much choice other than to keep doing porn, so he joins Just4Fans to get back on his feet and then one day he gets a very generous tip from someone under the username of YKWIM. All the warnings listed on Part I apply. 

Read on AO3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V /  Part VI /  Part VII /  Part VIII / Part IX / Part X /  Part XI / Epilogue

-x-

Living with Ned and MJ was both a dream come true and a bit of a nightmare.

A dream, because when they were kids, they always talked about how they would all go the same college and live together one day, and Peter would finally have a real home – and a real family, he used to think to himself,  in secret.

A nightmare, because he couldn’t help but feel a little jealous of his friends, and that was the worst kind of feeling to have for the people who opened their arms and their home for him when he needed the most. Still, he couldn’t avoid it and he felt awful for that. They were both attending NYU; Ned was majoring in Computer Science and MJ in Journalism. All according to the plans they made in high school.

When Peter was younger, he made plans, too. He wanted to study Biochemistry, his teachers used to say he could probably get a scholarship to a good college, he was smart enough. Mr. Harrington, his science teacher, even offered to write letters of recommendation for him. Instead, Peter’s life choices led him to his current predicament: a 20 year-old porn actor, selling dirty pictures for a living, crashing on his friends’ couch, not a single dollar in his wallet.

He was definitely not getting any awards for good decision making, that was for sure.

He had been staying with Ned and MJ for a week when he was finally able to set up his Just4Fans account. He knew that had to be a temporary thing, it couldn’t last, even if he wanted it to. He wouldn’t be young forever, let alone a “pretty twink”, as his subscribers loved to call him. He had maybe three or four years left of that hype, at most, then he would be too old for that, and/or people would start getting bored of him. So he had to be smart, the plan was to save up as much as he could while he thought about what he was going to do once the fountain of youth dried up, and the clock was ticking fast.

But for the time being, porn.

Good thing he had his own Instagram account with a few thousand followers. All the other social media accounts were under Beck’s name, and those had hundreds of thousands of followers, but Peter no longer had access to them – he checked. He also checked and noticed that Beck hadn’t announced that they had split up yet, his last post dated from five days earlier, when he released their last video together – two days after kicking him out of the house, the asshole.

So Peter posted a few Instagram stories explaining to his followers that he and Beck weren’t a thing anymore – he didn’t give many details, he didn’t want any drama, specially not with Beck – and that he had set up a Just4Fans account for the time being. In minutes, his Instagram blew up. Apparently, people were either heartbroken over their breakup; relieved he “got rid of that perv!”; or devastated they wouldn’t get to see them doing porn together anymore.

He got a hundred subscribers in just a few hours, which was incredible. The subscription fee was ten dollars a month, so even after the website’s cut plus tax deduction, it still was a good start. He wondered what kind of money Beck made with their videos, because they had thousands of subscribers on their channel.

Once he got the hang of the site, he tried to post at least two sets of pictures a day – which was challenging at that moment, because the apartment was tiny and he didn’t have any outfits or toys with him, they were all at Beck’s. He made plans that as soon as he got the subscription money in around fifteen days, he would try to buy a few things and take tons of pictures to last a few weeks.  

He also made sure to answer people’s messages every single day, which often earned him a little more money in tips. It was shocking how many people were willing to tip him just because he answered them. Some other people asked for extra content, like specific pictures, videos or even voice notes, which he sent via “pay-per-view messages”.

In the end, he felt like he was prostituting himself. Again.

He would never judge a person for earning their living in any way necessary, as long as it didn’t hurt anyone, he just never thought that would be him. Never ever. As a kid, he thought he’d be an astronaut. Growing up, he wanted to be a physicist. As a teen, he made plans to study Biochemistry. And somehow he ended up selling his body online, one way or another.

He didn’t dwell on that for long, he focused on the fact that it was temporary. If he managed to retain at least some of the people that had subscribed to his account for two or three years, then he would be able to start a small business of some kind in the future. Maybe he could go back to school. Twenty-three wasn’t too old for college, right?

Right.

It was two weeks later when he got a weird message. Not a weird message, actually, a weird tip. Someone under the username of YKWIM had sent him ten thousand dollars for no reason, there was no prior conversation, nor did the person ask for anything in return. Peter was sure there must have been a mistake, maybe they had typed in some extra zeros or maybe they had sent it to the wrong person, so he decided to reach out.

“Hey. I think there must’ve been some sort of mistake with your last tip. Lol.”

He left his phone on the counter and got started on dinner. He was a terrible cook, but to be fair, they all were, so it was fine. Ned and MJ were both at work, but they would be home soon and they were having a quiet night in. Those few weeks at their place had been good for Peter, it felt nice not to be alone after what happened, but at the same time, he was starting to feel like he really needed his own space. He was already looking for an apartment to move into as soon as he got the money. He was hoping to get one in the same building or at least close by, so that they could still see each other often.

His cell phone beeped as he sliced some onions and he stopped to check.

“Hey, gorgeous. There’s been no mistake, it’s correct.” Peter was taken aback by the answer, so he checked again to see how much the person had tipped him, and sure enough, there it was. Ten thousand dollars. Ten thousand. American dollars.

“Oh. Wow, that was very, very generous of you. Is there any particular content that you’d like to see from me as a thank you? I could send you exclusive pics and videos, whatever you want.” Inwardly, he was thinking that no amount of pictures or videos from him would ever be worth ten thousand dollars. Ten thousand dollars, holy fuck.

“That would be excellent.”

“Great. What would you like to see?”

Please don’t be weird, please don’t be weird, please don’t be weird… Usually, Peter’s subscribers liked to see him in cute outfits or with cute toys, but some people liked very messed up stuff. He usually said no, but that person had just sent him ten thousand dollars. Fuck, that was so much money, it would cover rent for at least a few months.

“I’ve enjoyed everything you’ve put out so far, baby, so surprise me. I’m sure I’m gonna like whatever you send.”

God, generous and reasonable? Had Peter died and gone to porn heaven?

“You flatter me.” He typed in quickly, leaving the sauce unattended for a few seconds. “Give me a few hours to work on it, I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Take your time, but I don’t think you could disappoint me if you tried.”

Peter felt so stupid when he blushed and giggled to himself, because that was exactly how Beck lured him in when he was seventeen, with charming, easy words. He was an adult now, for Christ’s sake, and he didn’t even know who he was talking to. To be fair, it was probably a woman. For some weird reason, according to his Just4Fans statistics, a surprisingly large percentage of his subscribers were middle-aged, cisgender, heterosexual women. Peter supposed those were the ones who used to follow his “love story” with Beck – most of them hadn’t got over them yet, apparently they were “the perfect couple! So cute!”.

He couldn’t blame them, they sold them the perfect love story. And for a time, it was true. Peter really thought Beck was it for him, the love of his life, his soulmate. He didn’t know at which point it all became an act to Beck – or if maybe it had always been an act.

He sighed, shaking his head, he couldn’t afford to waste time thinking about him, so he focused on what he should send YKWIM.

As he finished making dinner, he tried to come up with ideas. They said they loved everything Peter had posted so far – he had posted thirty pictures and five short clips over the past two weeks. The pictures were all in MJ’s bedroom – she offered –, most of them in her bed. There were only a few pictures in which he was completely naked, in the others he had some sort of underwear on –  lingerie or tight briefs.

So, he decided he should do something similar, but different enough that YKWIM would feel somewhat special. He had a few good ideas, but they would have to wait for the next morning, he would need good lighting and privacy.

“Hey, nerd, what’s up,” He almost burned his fingers when he heard MJ’s voice, and realized he had spaced out for a minute there. He shook his head quickly and smiled at her.

“Nothing, how was you day?”

The next morning, once Ned went to visit his family and MJ left for work, Peter started working on the pictures. For some reason, he didn’t want to tell his friends about YKWIM, just like he didn’t want to tell them about Beck when they first met, three years earlier. And if he really was as smart as his teachers used to say, he would have seen the pattern. But as it was, he just focused on the fact that YKWIM was probably a woman living on the other side of the world, who just liked to get off to pictures of pretty boys in lingerie.

But.

For the sake of getting in the mood for the pictures, he imagined YKWIM was a guy. Not too tall, but taller than him. He imagined he had a beard, but not a full one, like Beck’s, no, perfectly trimmed, scratchy, in a good way. He’d have dark, warm eyes, not blue and cold. He’d be older, older than Beck, more mature than him. A real man. Maybe he’d have a few streaks of gray amidst his otherwise dark hair.  

He’d be gentle, despite Peter’s past. He’d treat him like he was the first one to ever touch him, even if he knew that was far from the truth. He would be careful, mindful of his pleasure. He’d start off slowly, kissing along his collarbones, fingers brushing the sensitive skin on the inside of his thighs, just shy of where Peter wanted him to touch, as his mouth traveled down his chest; hot, moist breath leaving a trail of kisses down his stomach.

He sighed. Yeah, that would do to put him in the mood.

He put on a white t-shirt that was just long enough to graze the tops of his thighs, and a simple, plain black thong. He decided to take the pictures in the shower – the classic wet, white t-shirt, he couldn’t really go wrong with that. He positioned the camera on top of the bathroom sink, set the timer, and started posing.

First, he rested his back against the wall, one hand pulling the t-shirt down to cover the front his underwear, eyes staring directly at the camera lens as water ran down his face, neck and chest, making his nipples stiffen, becoming visible under the wet shirt.  

Next, he pressed his chest to the wall, looking at the camera from over his shoulder, lips parted, just a peek of his exposed ass cheeks showing where the t-shirt ended, but by then it was so wet it was mostly see-through.

Then he turned so his side was facing the camera and stuck his head directly under the stream of water, running his hands through his hair, back arched obscenely, eyes closed. He let his hands travel all the way down his neck, chest, and stomach, hearing the familiar “click” as the camera took several pictures.

He turned around again, placed his hands on the wall and lifted his t-shirt just over his lower back, sticking his ass out, showing off his provocative underwear.

He got out of the shower and turned the camera into filming mode, then got back under the water and also shot a short clip of he sensually and slowly taking the thong off, but in a way that the viewer couldn’t really see the skin that was revealed. He pulled the wet t-shirt down so it covered everything, but by then it was so see-through that it left nothing to the imagination. Peter twirled a little, then threw an innocent, shy smile at the camera.

That should do it.

He finished his shower, put the wet clothes in the washer, then went to edit the pictures. He didn’t do much, just adjusted the light and contrast, then cut them into squares, because he though it looked classier or whatever. He chuckled to himself at the absurdity of that thought, as he attached the photos and the video to a direct message to YKWIM.

“Hey, gorgeous! Hopefully these won’t disappoint. Let me know if you’d like something different.”

He cringed re-reading the message, he thought he sounded desperate and insecure about himself and he supposed that wasn’t very attractive, so he decided to change it just a little.

“Hey, gorgeous! Hopefully these won’t disappoint.” And he finished off with a hot face emoji, because why not.

He sent the message and went on with his day. Ned and MJ were both back for lunch and since none of them felt like cooking – and they all sucked at it anyway –, they ordered something to eat in front of the TV, as they binge-watched the first seasons of The Office.

“Oh, hey, Pete, I almost forgot, I talked to our landlord earlier and he said there’s an apartment on the fifth floor that should be vacated by the end of the month, if you’re interested,” Ned told him around a mouthful of pizza and Peter’s head snapped up.

“I’m definitely interested!”

“Cool, I’ll talk to him for you, I’m sure I can get you a good deal on rent.” He winked, and Peter smiled, feeling hopeful.

Things were getting better. Slowly, yes, but they were. He was spending time with his friends – who he had neglected for the past two years–; he had a good amount of money to withdraw in the next few days, that could get him going for a while; he was still doing porn, yes, but at least he was in control of the whole thing, including his own body, which was nice; and he only cried for Beck every other night instead of every single night, so he had that going for him.

All in all, things were looking up.

Ned and MJ convinced him to go out for a bit in the afternoon, they said he had been cooped up in the apartment for three weeks and should breathe in some fresh air, and since it was the first somewhat warm day of March, they decided to go jog at Central Park in the afternoon. They didn’t really jog, but they walked around some and Peter must admit that it felt good to stretch his legs and feel the sun on his skin for a change.

They were lying on the grass, resting for a bit, when they saw a blur of red and gold fly overhead. People started cheering and clapping and Peter smiled when MJ groaned, because he knew exactly what she was going to say.

“How can people cheer for that guy, he’s an egocentric, misogynistic, elitist, disgusting asshole.”  He laughed to himself, because he knew what came next.

“He’s a genius, he changed the world multiple times and he even saved it at least twice. I think he’s pretty cool,” Ned argued without any heat and Peter could hear MJ rolling her eyes.

Peter didn’t love or hate Tony Stark or Iron Man, like most people, he just – didn’t pay him any mind. Sure, when he was a kid, he was obsessed with him, he was New York’s first superhero after  Captain America, who was still in the ice when Stark announced he was Iron Man. But as he grew older, he had other concerns in mind other than who was the coolest Avenger, so he kind of forgot they existed, except for when there was some crazy alien threat looming over New York City – which was, like, a biannual thing since they found out aliens existed back in 2012.

The fact that Iron Man was flying over Central Park on a Saturday afternoon was a little alarming though. From what Peter knew, Stark was mostly retired since around 2016, he only ever “avenged” when there was a big threat, like the near-end-of-the-world they had back in 2018.

“Do you think we’re under attack?” Peter asked and Ned shook his head calmly.

“Nah, I think he must be late for something. I read an interview recently and he said he uses the suit sometimes when he needs to get some place fast.”

Seemed like overkill, but who was Peter to judge, he would probably do the same if had a suit like that.

They spent the rest of the afternoon in the park and then headed home for the night. MJ turned in early, she said she was beat from a busy week, and Peter and Ned stayed up until a little later, re-watching Star Wars movies. It was close to 2AM when Ned said his goodnight and Peter went to check his Just4Fans, because he hadn’t answered any messages all day long.

There were quite a few, but he did notice there was one missing. YKWIM hadn’t answered him yet and Peter immediately felt like a failure. They probably hated the pictures, they must have thought “ugh, ten thousand dollars for that?”. Peter should have photoshopped them. He could have made himself look at least a little bit better, if only–

Before he could hate on himself too much, YKWIM messaged him, like they could read minds. Peter quickly opened their chat, still a little worried about their reaction to the pictures.

“Damn, baby! You have no fucking idea what those did to me. Fuck! Can I show you? Please?”

Peter was oddly relieved to read that, and was endeared by the fact that they actually asked before sending a dick pic. Or a clit pic? Was that a thing?

“Of course, gorgeous, I’d love to see it.”

Within seconds, they sent a video in the chat. Peter was a little surprised by that, but pressed play anyway, and almost fell off the couch when he did.

It was a thirteen seconds video. He could see the man’s midriff, all the way down to the tops of his thighs. His belly was toned and spattered with dark hair that led down to perfectly trimmed pubes that framed the most beautiful cock Peter had ever seen. There was no other way to put it.

It was long and thick, but not so much so that it would hurt – Peter knew better –, it stood proudly between his thighs, attached to a heavy set of balls that made his mouth water. He was jacking it mercilessly, Peter could only hear him grunting quietly before his balls recoiled and he came, covering his stomach in thick, pearly white come. Peter whimpered, pressing down on his hard-on, and almost cried when the video was over.

“Fuck, daddy, that was so fucking hot.” It was probably the first time ever that he actually meant that answering a DM from a subscriber.

“That was the third time today, baby, I have been thinking about those pics from the minute you sent them. Spent the whole day with blue balls, even after coming twice.”

Fuck.

“Wish I could have helped you with that.”

“Who knows, honey, maybe someday.”

Yeah, Peter thought, biting his pillow on the couch so he wouldn’t be heard when he came embarrassingly hard in his pajamas pants, face burning with shame. Maybe someday.