#hell maybe there are parts of me that are butch

[jacquelinemerritt]

Another Confessional Essay

Originally posted June 21st, 2017

If you’ve ever read my writing before, you can probably tell that I’m not that not a fan of the “confessional essay” style that’s become immensely popular on the internet in the last few years. To be perfectly honest, except for a few rare instances where this style of essay is brilliantly crafted and fits the subject matter incredibly well, I tend to find these essays boring and lacking any real substance.

The exceptions that I love are generally essays that relate deeply personal experiences and tie them back effectively to a main point, as in people of color writing about their personal experience with racism, trans people describing their experiences growing up and how they discovered the truth about who they are, or abuse victims describing their experience with abuse and its effects on their lives.

The topic I need to write about fits the second of those three, and so despite not being a fan of the format, and despite preferring to keep my essays and my journaling eternally separate, I need to use the format. Because right now, I am stuck with a burning realization that I don’t know any other way to process: I don’t know how to be a woman.

Now, I’m going to follow that statement by making clear everything that I’m not saying by that. I am not saying that I’m not a woman, I am one and have always been one. I also do on a certain level know “how” to be a person who is accepted as a woman, and I know of many models for womanhood that I could embrace and follow if I desired.

But I don’t want to be any of those women.

The problem here isn’t that I don’t know of ways to be a woman, the problem is that I genuinely don’t know how I am supposed to be both myself and a woman, both in the sense of feeling that my own self is fully womanly and being able to be accepted as a woman without changing who I fundamentally am.

What’s ironic about this is that I have no such confusion about what kind of girl that I am. I know exactly who 6-year-old Jacqueline is, who 13-year-old Jacqueline is, who 16-year-old Jacqueline is. I can envision who I would’ve been growing up a girl at each of those ages, and when I need to feel more feminine, regressing my mind into one of those younger ages and embracing my girlish immaturity makes me feel more secure in my gender identity than anything else possibly can.

But I have no such retreat within my present. I genuinely don’t have a feminine adult headspace that I can turn to when I need to both feel like my adult self and a woman at the same time. Perhaps this is the dysphoric effect of living in a house for over half a year where no one will openly acknowledge your gender identity, and I’ve even arguably come close to creating such a headspace through the persona I’ve crafted for my work as an online tech support advisor, but that persona, as convincingly feminine as it usually is, breaks down whenever​ I need to analyze something critically, take charge of a situation, or even just feel any emotion that isn’t overwhelmingly positive.

More than that though, even in the space where I feel the most creatively free, writing criticism, I don’t feel like I’m able to convincingly write in my own voice and simultaneously write in a voice that makes me clearly appear to be a woman. Now, I’m not saying that all women writers sound a specific way, nor should they, all I am saying is that there are certain styles of writing that project femininity significantly better than others, and that those styles clash inherently with my own style of writing.

Take this essay, for instance. I’m attempting to write in as close to the style of the confessional essay as I can muster, but even with a topic as personal as this my tone has been rigid and commanding, and it only shows the frustration that I’m feeling, not the sadness, insecurity, or hopelessness that I’m feeling in genuinely not having a clue what I should do about it. A good confessional essay would’ve shown all those emotions through with its writing style, but my default writing style is taking over my ability to write here, and I sound nothing like the confessional essay I’m drawing inspiration from.

It’d be one thing if I just couldn’t adapt my writing style to another format though. I know my writing style is rigid, but in general I like the way it makes me come across. What upsets me though is that me not being able to adapt my style to function as a confessional essay means that I cannot adapt my writing style to a more “feminine” style of writing, even as I try to do so now.

If you don’t believe that, just ask yourself, each time I’ve mentioned confessional essays, who have you pictures as the authors?

I know that I’ve only been picturing women, or people close to women on the spectrum of gender.

Now think about everything I’ve written here, the writing style I’ve used, and the way I’ve presented my information​.

What voice have you been hearing in your head as you’ve read through it?

You don’t need to answer that.

It’s been a man’s voice.

And I don’t know how to change that.

Critical Eye Criticism is the work of Jacqueline Merritt, a trans woman, filmmaker, and critic. You can support her continued film criticism addiction on Patreon.

[crewofthegoldrush]

pride time

[thepunkranger]

Resident Evil Characters - A Summary

Note: This is entirely my own opinion and said with a heavy dose of humor

Please enjoy

Chris Redfield

OG

Started as a twunk

Became an angry gorilla man???

Alpha Male™️

Punches boulders

Wants you to marry his sister

Smoker

Hide yo kids, hide yo wife

Rude to wait staff

2/10 - Just a guy. Hit him with your car

-

Jill Valentine

Other OG

Arguably better main of RE1

Master of Unlocking

Bisexual Bob™️

Butch

Supercop

Once got mind-controlled into going blonde

Rocket Launcher babe

PTSD

Big Strap Energy

Giant anime gun

10/10

-

Albert Wesker

OG Baddy

Sunglasses

Thinks he’s cool

A little too into Chris

“What are we going to do this game, Albert?”

“What we do every game, Alex: try to take over the world”

Matrix jacket

Maybe a vampire?

Looks like my uncle (derogatory)

4/10

-

Barry Burton

Bear

A+ line delivery

Just happy to be a part of things

Wishes his daughter would talk to him

Comes through in a pinch

Got lost on his way to The Last of Us

Father figure

Not dead out of sheer dumb luck

8/10

-

Rebecca Chambers

Baby butch

Sees the best in everyone

Autism be damned, my girl can work a shotgun

Sporty

Mommy Domme/Babygirl switch vibes

Sweet coffee addict

Doing fine, thanks for asking

Awkward thumbs up

9/10

-

Billy Coen

Bad Boy™️

Never bothered to take off his handcuffs

Tattoos

Mullet???

Moral standards

Strong silent type

Whole situation could’ve been avoided by just talking about his issues but no

Queen fan

7/10

-

Leon S. Kennedy

If a golden retriever became a human and then got kicked every day of its life

Having a really bad first day

Into dominant women

Dumb 90s haircut

Uses comedy as a coping mechanism

Hair grows in direct correlation to his level of angst

“Hey demons, it’s me, ya boi”

Sexy

Dog lover

Certified Good Boy™️

Fucked up a perfectly good rookie is what you did. Look at it, it’s got depression

15/10

-

Claire Redfield

College student stuck in the zombie apocalypse

Soft butch

Humanitarian

Forced her brother to teach her how to knife fight

Really into motorcycles

Leather jacket

Rocket Launcher babe #2

Always has at least one adopted child with her

10/10 would ask to babysit

-

Ada Wong

Mommy. Sorry. Mommy- sorry. Mommy-

Grappling hook

Badass spy

Emotionally distant

Soft spot for cute cuddly things (Leon)

Femme fatale

Book lover

Chaotic neutral

Crossbow 😍

Could step on me and I’d say thank you

Rocket launcher babe #3

10/10

-

Sherry Birkin

Goosebumps protagonist

Worst parents ever tbh

Surprisingly good under pressure

Please someone get this girl some therapy

Supergirl

Smartest person here

One hell of a shot

The trauma is immeasurable

Somehow still doing fine

Loves her weird adopted family

8/10

-

Carlos Oliviera

Himbo

First POC main?

Went from three polygons and a white boy haircut in the original to actual gorgeous South American hunk in the remake

Lost his accent along the way for some reason

#1 Jill simp

If Dug from Up was a guy

Only trustworthy person in the whole series

Just wants to help

Gorgeous gorgeous hair

Loves strong women

Hakuna matata

Touch-starved

10/10 would peg

-

Steve Burnside

Twink

Who is this sassy lost child?

Hot Topic employee

Into Claire (she’s too old for you bud)

Choker

Thinks he’s edgy

Whiny

Daddy issues

1/10

-

Luis Serra Navaro

If Puss in Boots was a human

The Most Extra™️

Luscious flowing locks

Definitely into bondage

Used to work for Umbrella

Trying to make up for it

Don Quixote references

Bisexual

Good with his hands

Praying for a threesome with Leon and Ada

10/10

-

Ashley Graham

Basic white girl

Always getting kidnapped

Master of Unlocking #2

Razor flip phone

Ada Wong bisexual awakening (same)

Good with a wrecking ball

Makes Leon catch her every time she has to jump a ledge (also same)

Would like to go to Hot Topic, please

7/10

-

Sheva Alomar

Player 2

Second POC main

Bad AI

Too good for her game

Willing to go on a suicide mission with a guy she just met

Left handed

Deserves a better stylist

Only good part of RE5

Literally my girl got done so dirty just give her another chance please

10/5

-

Moira Burton

“It’s not a phase, dad!”

Probably gay

Weak arms

Skillz

Box dyed her hair at least once

Simple Plan playing in the background

Childhood trauma

7/10

-

Piers Nivans

Trying his best

Appreciates a good steak

Sick of Chris’ bullshit

Good with a rifle

Just a good man

German Shepherd boy

Self-sacrificing

8/10

-

Jake Muller

Wesker’s son

Daddy issues

Who invited Ronan Lynch here?

Quips for days

Bad boy

Loves the type of woman who can kick his ass

The Most Edgy™️

9/10

-

Ethan Winters

Husband of the year

Trusting

Surprisingly chill

The most basic white man in all of RE

Hands? What hands?

Functionally a lizard

Would still love you if you were a worm

Just casually knows how to craft bullets

Moldy

8/10

-

Mia Winters

Toxic girlfriend energy

Literally possessed

Dark sense of humor

Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss

Casually working for a bioterrorism organization

Does actually care about her family

Definitely doesn’t have a penicillin allergy

If you can’t be the girl of his dreams, you can at least be the feral swamp witch of his nightmares

2/10

-

Zoe Baker

Lesbian

Mold intolerance

Southern accent thicker than grandma’s gravy

Picked last on the playground

Somehow okay despite her brother being Like That

Joe’s favorite

Science skills

8/10

-

Lucas Baker

Jigsaw

Didn’t even need the mold

Probably got at least one true crime documentary made about him

Working for Mia’s bioterrorism organization

Left his classmate rotting in the attic

Just the worst

0/10

-

Alcina Dimetrescu

Mommy

Please step on me

Elizabeth Bathory vibes

Just fucking huge

Can turn into a dragon

Lesbian

9/10

-

Karl Heisenberg

Grimy

Tumblr Sexyman

When robotics majors get weird

Fights with his siblings

Doesn’t actually care at all about Miranda

In cahoots with the lycans

7/10

-

Rosemary Winters

Mommy and Daddy issues

YA protagonist

Badass

Childhood trauma

Into the Mold-verse

Alternate universe Sherry Birkin

8/10

[kuethemoon]

iwtv fanfic friday: lesbianism onto the guys

@oldbutchdaniel I'm joining the fun. it's yuri time

two-headed mother by tisiphones // e, 8.6k

"Poor darling," Armand says, and the condescension in his voice is so awful and so offensive and Lestat wants to curl up in it and never, ever leave. "It's okay to let yourself be taken care of for just one night. You can't help what you need." It's Lestat's last night in Paris. Armand makes it a memorable one.

actually world changing. mommy issues galore it's sooo fun and this fic is part of several that got me into armandstat

super graphic ultra modern girl by armanddelioncourt // e, 0.9k

“I want to watch how you insert your tampon.” “Wha—No, you weirdo,” she glanced around the mercifully-deserted aisle. “You can’t just ask me that in the store!”

yummmmmy period blood fic!!! i love period blood fics sooo much and they're so cute

More than Neither by apoptoses // e, 6.2k

Annoying, how hot it is to see Armand kneeling on the dirty bathroom floor like this. Without her heels to compensate for their height difference she looks small, delicate. Her face is on the level with Daniel’s hips and Daniel knows what’s about to happen. Armand has probably been planning for this since they stepped into the store, she realizes. There’s no way she’d catch Daniel bleeding for the first time and let that go. (Daniel gets her period. Armand helps. Written for the Queens of the Damned prompt butch/femme.)

another period blood fic pls bartender! if I tip you can add them being freaky in a public toilet? thank you very much I'll take the lot pls!! the way daniel and armand handle being women and lesbians is so well written. dyke stamp of approval. if you're starting to notice a trend don't tell me

she loves me, she loves me not by IguessIllchangeitlater // e, 2.3k

“Sure,” she panted and raised her head, tried to find Armand’s eyes, but kept focusing on her fanged smile instead. “I will wear that fucking skirt.” Push out, push in, push out, push in, Daniela was going to come just from that, she was going to die. “I can’t-ah, I can’t wear my underwear with that, I would look silly.” Push in, push out. “Yes,” Armand agreed. She rested her head on the mattress, next to Daniela’s knee and busied herself with mouthing the blood that was still there. The blood that she drew earlier. “So, what’s the plan, boss?” Daniela managed to raise herself on her elbows. Armand’s beguiled eyes looked like that of a cat in the light of the night. “For the underwear situation?” “You will wear none, of course.”

butch daniel wearing a skirt because armand said so was an idea that bounced around in my head for a whole week so you know how excited I was to read this. hell yeah they're so bad to each other

sweet things for the sea by ulatraviolet_glow // e, 2.6k

Danielle Molloy, a runaway posing as a young man on a trading ship dreams of a better life, but when her dreams find her falling overboard and into the arms of the woman of her dreams, how disturbed will Dani be when she realises that the woman is not human at all, but a creature of the sea?

siren armand do you know how much you mean to meeeeee I lay awake at night thinking of you sinfully. siren armand...

one of your girls by sleepdeprivedsurgeon // m, 4.7k

“I was thinking maybe I’d go with my girlfriend,” Daniel says. Armand sucks in a breath, a familiar blend of excitement and fever rearing its head inside him. This isn’t new— nothing is, after nearly five centuries— but it’s certainly been a while. Louis doesn’t care what he looks like, what he is, just as long as he stays below him. On his knees in the endless confessional. Marius would dress him up sometimes: Helen of Troy, Cassandra, Mary Magdalene. When the painting was finished he’d push his skirts up and take him there in the studio.

technically not yuri but beautiful feminization + crossdressing armand and I had to put it here. special treat!

[certifiedsexed]

hi hi hi ik this isn't really a sex ed question but it's a queer question and i'm too afraid to google it. what exactly makes someone butch? i've been told i can't be butch cause my face/body are too feminine but i think your identity being dictated by how you were born is kind of bullshit in the queer community. i've got raggedy as hell short hair, i've never worn makeup a day in my life, and 90% of what i wear is a tanktop, shorts, and boots, the only thing differentiating me from butches i've seen recognized as such are that i'm kinda waifish and have a girly face. maybe it's mannerisms? i'll be the first to admit i'm upbeat but the idea that butches can't be cheerful also seems dumb. idk, i'm worried i'm overthinking this. i don't want to take t but i'd have been born less girly if i had a choice. i just can't tell if i'm inserting myself where i don't belong or if i've happened to meet a lot of people with weird ideas around queer women. your insight is appreciated oh certifiedsexed

Hi! Actually, information about sexualities and the like fall under sex education! Thanks for asking me!

Let me be clear, there isn't a list of categories you have to meet to be butch. It doesn't have to do with your body or personality.

The "butch" label is about a queer (or generally gay) connection to masculinity and/or a queer/gay presentation of masculinity: it's very common [and was born] in the lesbian/sapphic community but you can hear it thrown around in the general gay community as well, especially in older corners.

It's not a sexuality, though it can be a gender.

There are social aspects to the identity, specifically in the sapphic/lesbian community. It has very deep roots and a lot of associations that change depending on where you're from but the important part is that gay/queer connection to masculinity. The way you look/act doesn't really matter.

You're correct on the second option, it sounds like you've just met some people who have some weird ideas about queer women and identities associated with them.

The best person to learn about being butch is butch folks, so if you're looking to learn more about it, you should look up some writings and/or media created by butches! [I can provide some resources, if you're interested. <3]

Hope this helps! If you have anymore questions, let me know! <3

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Sir Waffington III

Debut: Cuphead

Waffles are wonderful! It's such a delight how the syrup pools in each little square, and I like to even them out by tilting the waffle so that the most full squares can share with the others. Sometimes, instead of syrup, I'll put honey on a waffle. And as we can see here, there are plenty of other options, as well! Some people like to pour Teeth into the divots of a waffle. I bet it's extra crunchy! And maybe it will even be YOU who is crunched!

Sir Waffington III is one of the many minions of Baroness von Bon Bon, all of whom are treat-based creatures (treatures, if you will, and indeed you will). Living food creatures are often some of the wackiest, and this waffle is, in my opinion, the best of the whole bunch!

I know I mentioned the teeth already, but the teeth are so great. This waffle could bite off a finger EASILY, and I love how tall the teeth are for how thin the mouth is overall. It kind of reminds me of a mole rat's teeth! The eyes are great too, with the square shape giving an extra inhuman expression. And, of course, butter! A butter pat hat, and dripping wings befitting an angel of cholesterol! I was enamored with Sir Waffington III the very moment I saw her in game.

Yeah, her! This waffle is a woman! Hell Yeah for freak creature designs that get to be female! She is confirmed female in the translation notes, and the name I've been using is like, ALMOST official. It was indeed given by an official source, but not formally, and does contradict the more official statements. However, I think it can still be fun to think about! Maybe it's her name because she's just that butch. Maybe she thought the title was cool enough to want to keep it after her transition. Maybe both!

Look at her Explode! This is her method of attack! She's SUPPOSED to do this! All the waffles you've eaten have clearly been broken, I'm sorry to say. After flying around a bit, Sir Waffington will pause to launch all eight of her outer squares out from her center, which remains there, a disembodied, screaming mouth. What if you ate just that part? Would it still be considered eating a waffle? I wouldn't do it. I do like waffles, but I don't know if I like uvula!

[headspace-hotel]

hi, so i do have a question regarding trans people- i completely support trans people and people should have the right to do whatever they want to as long as it doesn't hurt anyone, and i would never side with those who try to take away someone's autonomy. that being said, why do people want to be the specific genders(men, women)- what exactly does one feel? is it identifying with gender stereotypes? wanting the other kind of body? i can understand why someone would want to be enby, but can't seem to understand specific reasons why people would want to be transmasc or transfem etc. i've read posts before where people have wanted to be women/men because of gender stereotypes- they wanted to play with dolls/liked feminine/masculine colors/clothes etc. but it's obviously something that shouldn't be stereotyped against and anyone should be allowed to play/like anything they want to, whether it's feminine or masculine. so what exactly is it that makes people want to be either? again, though even if i didn't understand why someone else felt that way, i fully support them.

I'm not even transgender in any flavor so I'm not the best person to ask, but I'm pretty sure the answer is going to be individual for every person.

I think like, the larger society has latched onto the narrative of "I always wanted to play with 'girl' toys and do 'girly' things" because that's what makes sense to a cisgender audience in a culture where behavior and clothing and toys are very obviously gendered.

But that's not, like, what "makes" someone transgender—it's a way of explaining it.

I mean, okay, maybe I can talk about this a little. I'm a cis woman. I've thought about it! I like being female, it feels comfortable to me, and experimentally imagining anything else feels...bad.

This has nothing to do with gender stereotypes—I don't shave, I don't wear makeup, I usually cut my hair super-short, I'll wear my brothers' clothes if I like them, I always actively hated the "girl" toys as a kid (though I was never labeled a 'tomboy'—I feel like autism overpowered any specific gendered label that would otherwise apply to me, for complicated reasons. I was a Weird kid). It's just...I don't know. It's nice when one of my friends in chat in a game i'm playing calls me "she"—like hell yeah! Your mental concept of me is a girl :D

If anything, I started to feel more "woman" when I started dressing and styling more masculine—it was actually seeing pictures of butch lesbians online that made me see an image of myself I liked for the first time. I wanted to be a woman who's like a guy at the auto parts store.

I think some people just have no internal sense at all about their gender, and some of these people probably ID as non-binary, and some of these people probably just identify with whatever they were assigned because that's what's convenient. There are no wrong answers here, right?

And some people have a really strong unwavering internal sense about it, and it's not exactly able to be distilled down to feelings about your body or clothes or interests or whatever, but it exists. I know that I "feel" like a woman even though I couldn't say why. It's somewhere in between "this feels accurate" and "this feels nice."

[elysiuminfra]

hold on just remembered a fun story. one time when i was still in highschool an HVAC repairman came for maintenance on our air conditioning system (hot as hell here in the summers). at the time I thought about pursuing HVAC as a trade so I ended up asking him if I could watch him work. He asked why and got excited that I wanted to pursue a trade. Showed me basic AC maintenance, what to look for when it breaks, how to install new parts yourself. now i know how to check some AC models for certain kinds of malfunctioning. he was so excited about it too and I loved learning. anyways the big part

we end up falling into friendly banter where he talked about being a dad, and I talked about being in highschool, and ended up somehow on the topic of how rough it is being a gay kid. i was Obviously gay (Butch as hell at the time) so he asked in the kindest and most genuinely curious voice what he should do as a dad if one of his two daughters came out as gay or trans. he wanted them to feel loved because he wouldn’t care but he was worried he would say something wrong. just a regular dad aged HVAC repairman asking me, someone who had such a hard time with coming out, what to do to make his kids feel loved if that happened because he was scared that he’d say something wrong. literally think about it all the fucking time near pride month maybe we’ll be alright

[i-smoke-chapstick]

'DON'T BLAME ME, [PART SIX]

-GOTHAM!JERVIS TETCH X READER-

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; Reader and Lee get tied up in a revenge plot.

⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!jervis x female reader. SLOW BURN!!! Not sure how many chapters this will be yet! LOTS OF PLOT SET-UP!! AGE GAP ROMANCE! (reader is Jim and Barbara's daughter) Is reader really young and naive, or is she just young and angry? Lack of Jervis in this one, I apologize. I love Lee and Readers dynamic. The slow burn is slow burning. She fell first, he fell harder. More of reader dissociating. AU where The Ogre's still alive. Reader and Lee being mortal frenemies. Writing this kind of artistically and as character studies for everyone. Small time skip. Reader continues to reference Jervis as "Mr. Tetch." Just you guys wait...they'll get there. I'm taking canon out back and beating it with a stick until it stops twitching.

⋆ tag list (tell me if you want to be removed!) @adalwolfgang @jervis-tetch-my-beloved @honestmrdual @moonlightnyx @all-things-fandomstuck @killingboredom @sweetlimeharvest

⋆ 'PART ONE, - 'PART TWO, - 'PART THREE, - 'PART FOUR, - 'PART FIVE, - 'PART SIX, - 'PART SEVEN, - 'PART EIGHT, - 'PART NINE, -'PART TEN, - 'PART ELEVEN, - 'PART TWELVE, - 'PART THIRTEEN, - 'PART FOURTEEN,

♫ “I once was poison ivy, but now I'm your daisy.” Don't Blame Me by Taylor Swift

Nothing seems real anymore.

You'd heard of the crazies running around in Gotham. Whether that was from your father, mindlessly ranting over a stack of police files. Or your mother, who frequently talked to said crazies on a daily basis.

Prior to Mr. Tetch, you'd only ever dealt with one first hand. At least, one that was actively trying to murder your family. And that was none other than Jason Skolimski. The Ogre. You feel your body involuntarily shake when you even think about him.

You're unsure what happened to him, exactly. You were just thirteen when everything got turned on its head. But you do know one thing. His body was shipped to Indian Hill. Your mother and father never mention it. You wonder if your mother ever thinks about it. The small possibility...that man could still be alive.

She'd probably thank him. It was because of him that she embraced her "true self".

You bite your lip, lost in your head. Somethings been missing ever since Mr. Tetch turned out to be...whatever he is. Ever since he left, Tabitha’s seemed happy. Your mom hasn’t. Appearently his hypnotism act was attracting a bunch of publicity to the club.

You should've been thankful, like Tabitha. Good riddance. That should've been the end of it. But you had begged Jim to take you to the GCPD, to ask Alice questions. You needed answers. More than he did.

You always hated the GCPD. The last time you went to the department, you were young and naive. It was ‘take your child to work day.’ You watched a serial cannibal try to bite Harvey Bullock's finger off. Tale as old as time.

It didn't matter, regardless. Jim didn't let you go again. You remember the vague shouting match between you two. Good thing, maybe. Judging by the fact Mr. Tetch hypnotized a family of strongmen to kill everyone in the place. And then Alice impaled herself on a pole. All in the papers.

What does it matter? You're not sure why you let the whole situation get under your skin.

A few dreams, a few encounters, a few shared looks. You find yourself scoffing at your own blind idiocy. Maybe you are still young and naive.

You've been taking your rightful place at the bar, next to Butch. You two have been tossing back shots of tequila, mindlessly ranting at the same time to one another. Again, there’s comfort in knowing you both want to speak to someone that you can’t have.

"I don't understand. She doesn't even look at me anymore. I mean, she just looks at Barbara. Sorry, I know she's your mom, or whatever."

"Don't apologize. I don't understand either. Where the hell even is he?"

"Your dad?" Butch furrows his eyebrows.

No, you think. Mr. Tetch. You don't vocalize that though. You lie with a nod.

Maybe the alcohol caught up to you. You should've known better. Day-drinking never ends well. You cringe, remembering Harvey slurring his words, knocking on your dads apartment door. Either way, you aren't in control of your own body. Before you know it, you're leaving the club, tossing a wad of cash to Butch. He wolf whistles and takes it gladly.

You're just walking down the street. Maybe drunkenly. Kicking loose pebbles on the sidewalk, swinging around streetlamps. You'd expect a weird look or two from bystanders. But you realize no ones on the street except for you.

It's Gotham. You should be more concerned by the fact your alone. But it's broad daylight. Surely nothing could go wrong-

Before the thought can be fully thought out, a pair of arms grabs you from behind. You find yourself kicking and screaming, being dragged by a heavy-set man. Yay.

Huffing through the set of hands over your mouth, you're shoved into a trunk, light significantly dimming as it's closed. You hear the lock click, and you stop fussing. Attempting to calm yourself, you search your pockets for your phone. It's okay. It's okay. It's okay. Your mom is a crime lord. Your dad is a cop, or rather, was one. You'll be fine.

You can't seem to find your phone in your pockets though. You feel your heartrate speed as you frantically start to search. The bar. You left it at the fucking bar. Nice fucking job Y/N. You definitely wouldn't survive in a horror movie.

You give up. You're defeated. Maybe they'll be a pair of nice human traffickers. Take pity on you. You sigh and throw your head back for the rest of the car ride. Squeezing your eyes shut, you manage to accept whatever fate is in store for you.

You had a good run, champ. A voice that sounds an awful lot like your fathers praises in the back of your mind.

Like a ragdoll, you're roughly placed on the floor. Eyes still trying to get used to the bright light, you feel both dizzy and discombobulated. Your head is pounding from any alcohol you had prior. Picked a great day to drink.

Blinking wildly, the first thing you manage to digest is being chained to a bathtub.

"Y/N?" A voice asks, and your eyes snap up. Staring wide eyed at you, just tied up as you are, is Lee Thompkins.

A million thoughts rush through your head. The first one you promptly register is what is this bitch doing here?

"Lee?" You mumble. You think this might be a hallucination, but if you were going to hallucinate someone, it wouldn't be her.

You two stare at each other for a moment. Tense, awkward. The last time you saw her was when your father witnessed her having moved on. You still remember the feeling, standing on your tiptoes to look through a window. Seeing your fathers heart break before your eyes.

You never really talked to her. She always tried to talk to you though. A lot. Too much. But she could never be the Barbara you used to know. No matter how hard she tried.

"What the fuck is going on?" You whisper yell. Lee looks at you, swallowing.

"Tetch blames Jim for Alice, and we're his means for revenge."

At the mention of his name, your blood runs cold. You didn't expect to ever see him again. Let alone see Lee. You watch, petrified, as Lee fidgets around through the bathroom cabinet.

For the most part the room is silent, other than the clanking of items being searched through.

"Leave it." Is all you say, watching her look uncontrollably for something to pick the lock. She sighs.

"You expect me to just sit here and die?"

"Yes." You hiss. She doesn’t turn to look at you, but you can imagine her face, disappointed and irritated. You don't care. You get mean when you're nervous.

"…It's not my fault. Jim is who he is, Y/N. I can't change that. Neither can you."

The truth stings harder coming from her of all people.

"Oh, give yourself some credit, Ms. Thompkins," You say the name snappish. "Without you, I hardly doubt we'd be in this mess."

That makes her perk up. Her nostrils flare, and the clanking sounds louder.

"You don't seriously blame me for this?" She still doesn't make eye contact with you, but she motions wildly to the locks on your ankles. You give a nonchalant, bitter shrug.

"If you didn't leave him, he wouldn't have become a bountyhunter."

"You don't know that." Her eyes soften in hurt. It fuels you.

"No. But I know you're a whore." The words escape your mouth before you internalize them. There's a long beat of silence before she finally turns to look at you, still sitting on the ground. She huffs.

"Maybe you're just really scared and this is your way of coping," She starts, "Or maybe you're just insanely committed to taking care of your father. Either way, all I'm interested in is getting out of here."

You look at each other with a mutual mix of regret.

"Try a cuticle pusher." You finally say, smiling humorlessly. "My dad's was a cop, after all. Taught me how to pick locks. I can walk you through it."

She nods. You nod. It's not the same feeling of understanding you get when talking with Butch. But...it's not too far off either.

"You really are his daughter." She sighs, snatching a cuticle pusher up from the counter.

"Thanks."

"It's not a compliment."

"Remember you have to-"

"I got it." Lee cuts you off, fiddling with the lock. You put your hands up in mock defense. At least your humors returning back to you.

"Can I ask you something?" You start off, slow. She glances at you for a moment, before returning to her chains.

"As long as it's not about why I left your dad." She mutters.

"Not exactly," You pause, looking for the right words to say. "Why did you return to Gotham? You looked all cozy down south."

"It's really none of your business."

You let out a loud scoff at that.

"You were ready to become my stepmother less than a year ago," You continue. At this, her movements falter. "You could've chosen any city. Any job. But you chose Gotham."

"You realize we both might die today, right?"

"Yes. And I don't want to die not knowing why you left us, just to come back and dangle it in front of my dad."

Her movements stop completley.

"I didn't come here for James Gordon." She's firm in her stance. In one last fluid moment, the lock unclicks before our eyes. She heaves a small sigh of relief.

She offers you the cuticle pusher. You take it. About three seconds in, it breaks. Shit.

Not the worst fate in the world, you think. You'd be able to see Mr. Tetch again. Ask him all the unanswered questions. That is, if he doesn't immediately kill you. Maybe you’re a fool to think a part of him enjoyed your company.

"You can still escape." You nod to Lee, hopeful she'll leave, hopeful she'll stay. With what you said to her earlier, you wouldn't blame her.

"I'm not leaving you here," She speaks. Her tone is gentle. Somewhat motherly. The sentiment actually makes guilt bubble up inside you. "There's got to be something else."

Looking around the room madly, you two are interrupted in your searching's.

"My, my," A voice drawls. You know that voice. "You two have been busy."

There he is.

Jervis stands tall, looking down at the both of you. You meet his gaze. For the first time in quite awhile, that feeling of electricity shoots through you again. You want to tear yourself apart. Find whatever part of your brain is fascinated with the idea of this man. Cut it out of you, examine it, and throw it away.

"Now, if you'd kindly join me in the dining room?" He speaks. You notice his eyes are focused solely on you, effectively ignoring Lee. He still looks relatively angry though.

Despite his demeanor, he offers you a hand to help you up. Lee watches his movements. You take his arm without question. That seems to spark something in his eyes. In Lee's eyes, too.

...You're unsure if that's a good or bad sign.

[possibilistfanfiction]

Hey there! Just wanted to let you know that I love your writing. I love the universe you've created for ava and beatrice. I could have said Avatrice but the thing is you write them so beautifully as individuals, all their triumphs and losses, that it doesn't feel right not to acknowledge them as they are on their own as much as they are as a couple. Anyway! I pretty much have bookmarked all your work and I keep suggesting your fics on Twitter, I'm pretty much your unofficial publicist at this point, proudly so ��

I just finished the multitude of loving and once again you made me laugh and smile and cry and you made my heart warm and for a while, my depression didn't feel as debilitating. So thank you. I don't know what you're gonna write next whenever inspiration strikes, but if you ever do another outside pov, would you mind writing one from Diego's? I guess I'm biased because aside from your fics, I've been obsessed with do a flip by sunsafe and it warms my heart to see Diego in fics because well, I think it's safe to say that he was the one who loved ava first, he was there by her bedside and all and so it would be lovely, to know how he feels and thinks about ava and beatrice, after all the years of living his own life, after all the years wishing to see his sister, his best friend, his... Ava, because there's no traditional title that really fits them, after all the years wishing that ava is okay and... Alive, more than just surviving because even when he was a child he knew, ava was meant for such a bright and grand life, just because she was all that herself.

Anyway, just an idea, of course. My rambling is not in any way meant to pressure you into writing it 😆😅 I hope you're having a good day wherever you are. Cheers!

[first of all i love do a flip!!!! 100/10 recommend if anyone hasn't read it!!

anyway, here's a little diego pov in the butch bea universe. he's like 18 or 19? idk. yknow just roll w it :) ]

//

university is busy as hell, and it's cool that they pay for your doctor's appointments and, when you actually started getting the care you needed, you were able to do basically everything in the normal, big wide world with regular meds and check-ins — but mostly you just want to play rugby and flirt with girls (not well, but you're 18 and always kind, so who cares your success rate) and pass all of your classes. when you got adopted it had seemed like a miracle, and so you don't take any of this time for granted — not the bright sun or the grass stains on your knees or how rachel plays with your hair when you hang out in her dorm.

you don't think much of it when you get a random email from beatrice gu-knight, partially because emails are a pain in the ass and partially because nico brought over a six pack of stellas and his nintendo switch — you're the mario kart champion, undisputed — but, in the morning, when you open your phone, you think your heart might stop in your chest.

Hello Diego,

I hope you're well. I know it might seem strange to get an email like this from someone you don't know and have never even heard of, and, if you don't wish to follow up or connect, please just let me know, and that will be the end of it.

But, in the hopeful chance that you do: my name is Beatrice (she/her), and I'm reaching out to you because Ava Silva is my life partner. We've been together for a few years now and she talks of you often, and fondly; I know from her stories you were an extraordinarily joyful and sustaining part of her life at St. Michael's, and, if nothing else, I hope you understand my deep gratitude for that. I work in tech, so I was able to find this email address for you in the hopes that you might want to reconnect with Ava. We live in Los Angeles, and she's, as I'm sure you remember, wonderful. Maybe even more wonderful now, as I hope you are too.

Again, if you are at all uncomfortable, please feel no pressure to engage in any way; I won't let Ava know, so don't worry about that. If you would like to reconnect, though, you can respond to this email, or call or text me at my cell listed below. Thank you.

Warmest regards,

Beatrice

it takes you a few seconds to get it together, because, what the fuck, first of all. second of all, ava — one of your favorite people ever, and someone you miss every day. who apparently has a very proper and seemingly kind partner named beatrice, and lives in california. ava is alive, and probably really happy. the last time you saw her she was scared and upset and you had thought she died before that. you had thought you would never see her again.

Hey, this is Diego, you text the number on Beatrice's email. you think about the time difference, and, sorry if it's the middle of the night for you

it takes a minute or two, but then your phone vibrates. Diego, wonderful to hear from you! I'm glad my email wasn't too intense.

and, like, maybe it was a little, but your calc III professor is a fucking nutcase, so you kind of have a high bar.

Ava works late sometimes, so don't worry about the time difference right now

it's sweet, you think, that beatrice doesn't work late, or, whatever, maybe she does, but she's up because ava is awake. because ava will be coming home, or finishing up in an office. you wonder about their life, what their home looks like and if ava's laugh is still just as awesome. and, like, what is ava's job? is she still paralyzed, or can she walk like she had the last time you saw her? you're glad for her, honestly, that her partner is a girl, because ava thought boys were hot but also seemed to like girls more — so, like, how did they fall in love? it's funny to imagine ava as a grownup, with a partner and a home and a whole life, but it's also the best.

do you want to facetime tomorrow or something, you text, because you don't really know what else to say, but you want to find out: about your sister, and the life she's apparently built. you think — if ava is anything like how she had been when you were younger — you definitely want to be in it.

I would love that, beatrice responds immediately. you work out the details and, eventually, you go to class and try to have a normal day. but ava is out there, happy, in california, with a partner who clearly cares about her. it feels like a gift, even to know. it feels like a gift, to get to be in her warmth again.

/

beatrice, when you answer the facetime call at exactly the second the clock hits 7 pm your time, is beautiful. it doesn't surprise you, not really, because you remember ava being pretty, and, even more than that, fucking awesome. beatrice is younger than what you think someone with that formal a name would be, with short dark hair that flops into her eyes, which are kind of gold in the light through the window of whatever room she's in. 'hello, diego,' she says, and, yeah, ava probably loves that accent.

it makes you laugh, but, like, in a nice way, to know that ava has a whole partner. a whole entire person who shares a life with her, who helps her with stuff and — beatrice is a saint for this — laughs at her puns.

'hey,' you say, feel awkward and a little sloppy in the face of the chic big oil painting behind her, the hoodie you know is expensive because your friend artur had had it marked on his stockx for, like, months now. 'uh, i'm diego. nice to meet you.'

beatrice smiles, and you see her freckles, and you realize, in a flash, a truth you know implicitly — that ava loves this person. ava picked this person to spend her life with. the world is cruel, you know better than most, but the world is also so, so kind.

'i'm so happy you responded to my email,' she says, less formal and with a slight laugh, mostly with joy. 'ava is the best, and i know that — she misses you. she loves you, a lot. i've always wanted to meet you.' you kind of don't know what to say, and you're relieved when she shakes her head. 'sorry, i'm being a lot again. believe it or not, this is my first rodeo with something like this.'

first rodeo sounds foreign from her, and it inexplicably makes you laugh. 'you're doing fine.' you realize that beatrice is just as nervous as you are, maybe even more: she loves ava. she has a whole life with ava. 'i — does ava want to talk to me?'

'i haven't told her yet. i wanted to see how you felt first, without any pressure, and i didn't want her to feel disappointed. but i know she will be... overjoyed, to have you in her life again, if you want.'

'yeah.' you think of ava's jokes and how full of life she was, even when she didn't have access to much of it herself. you think about the clumsy drawings you had made her, and how happy she was every time she got to go outside in her wheelchair. 'i do, want that. a lot.'

beatrice's smile is relieved and grateful. 'i can talk to her, then, and then maybe you two can set up a video chat? i know she'll be beside herself with excitement.'

'yeah,' you say, and you can't help but smile looking forward to it. it doesn't sound like ava's changed much, in the good ways, which is super cool. 'i'm excited too.'

/

your palms are clammy and you feel like you might throw up, but beatrice had sent you a link to a zoom and asked if the evening worked for you; you're so thrilled but also, like, what if ava doesn't like you anymore? what if she's way way cooler than you, or too grown up, or just bored by your life? it had been one thing, to lose her when you were young and confused, to have to grieve her absence so obliquely — but it would be an entirely different thing now, to know she's alive and has a life of her own and just doesn't want you in it. you don't really know how you would handle that. ava was your friend and ava was your sister, in the ways that really matter.

but, you realize very quickly, all of your anxiety was for nothing, because ava's face pops on screen — older, and her hair is shorter, and there are slight laugh lines settling into the skin around her eyes, but she mostly looks the same — and her smile is so warm and then she starts to cry and laugh and, yeah. if you do too, it's fine. no one else is in your dorm room anyway.

'hey,' she says, the first to get any words out. she's sitting up, and she waves, and you feel like you're seeing a real life miracle, right there on your computer screen. 'you look so old. i really missed you.'

'you look so old too.' she grins. 'i really missed you.'

it's a little stilted at first, probably because you're both overwhelmed, but then it's just... the fucking best. ava is a bartender, 'mostly for fun,' she says, which, whatever that means, and she still loves the beach. they apparently have a house right by the water. she starts crying again when you tell her you got adopted, that you're not so sick anymore because you have good doctors and caring parents, that you're in school to become an accountant.

'the family business?' she says, choked up, after you tell her that your adoptive mom is one too, and that she wanted you to be able to take over one day if you were interested.

it's as unbelievable to you some days as it seems to her, on bright mornings or when you get to go skiing in the cold snow, when your friends pass around a joint or when you get to go to a museum, whenever you want. 'yeah,' you say —  a family; you learn ava has one too. 'it's pretty incredible.'

/

'holy shit, ava.'

she just laughs, letting you go in front of her into her house. well, her and beatrice's house, you guess. you'd facetimed and texted a bunch with ava in the past two months, so you had figured out they were kinda loaded, and they'd both picked you up from the airport in a very sleek, fancy volvo, but, like —

'this is nuts.'

you think you might immediately cry again when you notice, right away, how there's not a single part of the house you can see that isn't accessible for someone in a wheelchair. ava had told you that she can walk but some days has a lot of pain and a hard time with mobility, and that beatrice was awesome and she had a good chair and even a van and a service dog, but you never could've imagined this. their house is huge and beautiful, like something you'd see in an AD tour you like to watch when you're stoned. ava has a cane today, and beatrice trundles in with your bag — she had insisted, quietly, but with a look that told you it would be totally pointless to argue.

'your house is awesome,' you say, to both of them.

beatrice smiles gently. 'we redid it last year, for accessibility. i think it turned out great.'

'wanna see the best part?' ava says, using her cane to bounce a little on the balls of her feet and you have to clear your throat because you had known her for so long. you had loved her for so long, your best friend in the entire world, who was smart and funny and bursting at the seams to feel it all, to really get to live.

'dude,' you say, 'of course.'

'i'm going to put your bag in your room,' beatrice says. 'and then i have a work call. but i should be done after the hour, for whatever you'd like to do, if you want me to join.'

'of course we want you to join,' ava says, and beatrice blushes and then gathers herself and kisses the top of ava's head before she offers you a thumbs up — nerdy, and it makes ava snort — and then lifts your bag like it weighs two pounds or something. 'love of my life,' ava says. 'definitely doesn't have a work call, but she's been stressed all week about making sure she gives us time to ourselves but doesn't seem aloof. huge weirdo.'

'she's hot.'

'ew, diego.'

you shrug. 'all i'm saying is that, like, i get it. not for me, because she's, like, super gay, but you know. for you.' you take a breath. 'sorry, i'm just excited.'

ava laughs. 'bea is super gay, it's true.' she points to a button on the wall nearby and then floor to ceiling glass doors that separate the living space from the patio. 'now, check this out.'

it's pretty fucking wild that ava went from the horrible orphanage, and tons of abuse that you were too small and too weak and too scared to stop, to a whole house that opens up to a day bed and an outdoor kitchen and dining area and a hot tub, a small patch of grass, and then the sea behind — but in the best kind of way. the kind of way that makes you want to tell everyone you meet that things can get better. that good things will happen to good people, at least sometimes. at least ava, who is the best of all of them.

ava motions for you to come with and walks outside, and then it's, like, genuinely the best thing ever when a black and white dog — korra, who ava sends you pictures of all the time and has featured in multiple zoom calls — who was napping in the sun, perks her head up and you swear she, like, dog-smiles at ava. 'hi, good girl,' ava says, and then claps her hands once and korra obediently, and happily, comes to ava's right side and sits, leans her little head against ava's thigh.

'i can't spend this entire time crying,' you say, and ava laughs. 'can i say hi?'

'of course,' she says. 'she's not usually formally working at home, unless i'm having a really bad day. which, you know, i'm not, but they do happen sometimes.' she shrugs and you kneel down in the sun and pet korra's soft ears as she nuzzles your face.

'she's so cool,' you say, and then kiss the top of her head and her nose. 'hey korra! i'm your uncle, i guess?'

'yeah! uncle diego.'

it makes you beam, to sit on the patio with ava as she shows you some of the tasks korra has been trained to do, and tells you about her bar you'll go to later, and points toward their outdoor shower with a sly smile. you do her the courtesy of fake gagging, although you really are just mostly happy for her, with her partner and her dog and a house that was built just for her.

eventually, beatrice comes outside, carrying a very intense charcuterie board. she places it down on the day bed, between you and ava, korra happily snoozing at your feet.

‘hi baby,’ ava says and scoots closer to you, then tugs on beatrice’s hand until she sits. ava kisses her temple. ‘this is very extravagant.’

‘well, we have a guest,’ beatrice says. ‘there’s wine inside, if you’d like a glass.’

‘i know nothing about wine,’ you admit, ‘but if there’s one you think… pairs? well with, you know —‘ you gesture to the elegantly laid out spread of food in front of you — ‘then i’ll trust you and go with that.’

ava grins. ‘yes, beatrice. be our resident sommelier, please.’

beatrice rolls her eyes, again with a blush, but then stands, ignoring ava’s pout. ‘i’ll be right back.’

‘she’s, like, really nice.’

ava lays back with a grin. ‘well she’s on her i was raised by diplomats and nannies most proper behavior right now. i don’t get charcuterie boards like this… ever.’ she takes a bite of cheese. ‘but bea is wonderful. she’s brilliant and funny and so, so kind. she’ll loosen up. i’m really excited you get to spend time with her.’

‘i’m thankful she reached out. i — i’m so happy to be here, and to see you.’

‘me too, my dude.’

beatrice comes back out with fancy real crystal glasses and a bottle of wine she explains is a vintage napa chardonnay, which mostly just makes you think it’s expensive. it probably is, with the way she efficiently uncorks it — ava practically drools, annoying, and you elbow her in the ribs — but it’s, like, really good. at least compared to the cheap wine you sometimes have with your friends when you order greek food.

‘diego,’ beatrice says, measured and anxious and, if ava’s stupid expression is anything to go by, endearing, ‘as you know, i like to surf. although it’s quite early, i was wondering if you might like to join me tomorrow? one of my best friends is an excellent instructor and the wave report looks ideally calm. ava thought you might be interested, if you’d like to learn?’

‘yeah,’ you say. ‘of course. that sounds sick.’

beatrice grins, relaxing a little. ava squeezes her hand. ‘i find it quite fun. it can be hard at first, but it’s nice to be in the water.’

‘diego gets his astounding athletic ability from my side of the family,’ ava says, patting you on the knee.

‘your side of the family?’ beatrice arches a brow.

‘yeah, the orphan side,’ you say, an old joke coming back to you, and ava gives you a high five.

‘i —‘

‘don’t think about it too hard, beatrice. diego also gets his bisexuality from my side of the family too.’

‘now that i’m willing to believe.’

ava winks at you, and then settles back into beatrice’s side.

/

admittedly, you're exhausted, so the mezcal margarita — smoky and just the right amount of sour — is hitting harder than you thought.

'okay,' ava says, 'boys are easy to flirt with.'

beatrice rolls her eyes.

'they are, bea,' she insists, then looks to you. 'sorry, diego, but boys are just... simple. they see someone hot, especially me, and there's, like, no thoughts.'

you think of the way luis had kissed you one night at a party — with his strong hands and his strong jaw and the rough, delicious scratch of his beard — after you'd just offered him a drink politely, so. honestly, that tracks.

'girls, though, diego.'

you laugh.

'you know, people who aren't men.'

'yeah, of course.'

'difficult. i just — whew.'

'aren't you, like, basically married?'

'well, yes, we're domestic partners. but beatrice is horrible at flirting. she's just lucky she's brilliant, and beautiful, and handsome, and funny.'

beatrice rolls her eyes again, although a blush spreads across her cheeks. 'i think i have more women try to flirt with me than you.'

ava huffs. 'that's because you're just — ugh.' she turns toward you. 'bea has grown into being a lesbian magnet. i once was superior. plus, boys flirt with me too.' she claps you on the back. 'either way, between the two of us, we'll teach you everything you need to know.'

'they won't,' one of their friends says, sliding in next to beatrice, who smiles and kisses him on the cheek. he's maybe the hottest person you've ever seen, with tattoos down both arms and a neat fade, probably a few years older than beatrice. 'i'm keiko,' he says, and offers his hand. his handshake is so strong and you feel yourself blush. 'i own the dojo beatrice goes to.'

'my favorite sparring partner,' beatrice says. 'partially because i have never lost.'

keiko waves her off.

'uh, i'm diego.'

ava laughs, delightedly, at how flustered you clearly are.

'well, if you want advice on boys, i am quite successful.'

'i'm sure you are.'

ava gives you a high five, mortifyingly. 'that's my man.'

'i'm cutting both of you off,' beatrice says.

'one shot, bea, please. come on. all we have to do is walk home.'

beatrice sighs dramatically and runs a hand through her hair, and keiko nudges her in the shoulder. 'for once in your life, beatrice, have a little fun.'

it takes a moment, but she laughs. 'fine. one shot, and then home.'

/

you surf the next morning, early as fuck, but you’re kind of jetlagged anyway and it’s really beautiful to watch the sunrise while you rest on a board. you haven’t popped up and you got tired pretty fast, but beatrice’s friend, ray — and beatrice herself, obviously — are patient and relaxed and don’t seem to care at all.  ava wanders out eventually, setting out a towel and drinking a to-go cup of coffee. she waves happily and blows a kiss in beatrice’s direction, who blushes. it had made you laugh, quietly, when she had put a special bucket hat designed for surfing on after she situated her wetsuit.

‘i don’t want to get sunburned,’ she explained, and then handed you a bottle of spf 100 sunscreen and a zinc stick.

eventually you ride a wave in on your knees, laughing, and then go sit by ava while you watch ray and beatrice and the rest of their little crew surf the next set, bigger on the outer break. you can tell beatrice shows off, for ava and, maybe a bit, for you. it's still early, and ava's happy to sit back in the easy quiet.

'hey,' you say after a while, during a break in sets, 'so, beatrice introduced me this morning as "ava's little brother".'

she turns to you, studies your features carefully, just like she always would when you were in the orphanage, trying to pay close attention. 'did that feel okay?'

'other than the fact that i'm taller than you —'

'— hey —'

'— of course,' you say. 'i love being your brother.'

ava scoots closer to you and bumps your shoulder with hers; you have your wetsuit down around your waist and she has one of beatrice's hoodies on, but you've mostly dried off by this point so you put your arm around her shoulders and tug her to you.

'do you, uh. sister? sibling?'

ava smiles. 'either is great.'

'okay.'

'thanks, diego.'

'nothing to thank me for there. i should be thanking you, honestly. all expenses paid trip to a bougie beach house in california to see someone i've missed so much? the dream.'

she sniffles. you don't know all the details but you know ava has been through some real shit after she — came back to life, you guess? 'i missed you too, so so much.' she clears her throat and wipes under her eyes. 'in the spirit of being your cool older sibling, what mild to moderately wild things do you want to do here. i don't want your parents to be mad at me so consider wisely.'

'tattoo.'

'do you have anything planned that you would want?'

'well, no.'

ava laughs.

'what? beatrice has cool tattoos.'

'she is a staunch believer that you should plan your tattoos in advance. but think of something and then next time we'll get you all set up with her artist, if you want.'

there's a level of maturity and care that's a little unexpected but, like, really cool? really nice. it's kind of weird and makes you a bit emotional, because ava is grown up. she's still an idiot, and constantly annoying, and very funny — but she's gotten to get older, and so have you.

'we could dye our hair,' she says, shrugging. 'easy to rectify, if it's a disaster.'

'i'm so in, man.' your hair is darker than hers, and you have no idea if she knows what she's doing, but you trust beatrice — with her neat hair and neat house and neat clothes and seemingly undying love for ava — to monitor the situation.

'maybe we can do the bi flag.'

it makes you laugh, imagining how silly it would look. 'what about just purple? like, a light purple situation.'

'i've done that before,' she tells you excitedly. 'loved it. definitely time to return.'

'deal. also, i want to try california weed.'

ava grins. 'we would have let you last night, you know, but you were actively falling asleep at the bar after one cocktail.'

'it's the time difference, i swear.'

'sure it is.'

'well, bea loves her edibles. she's very particular about them. i'm... much less particular about joints, but we can start off chill. maybe this afternoon. and then we can have tacos.'

'that sounds like a perfect day.'

she smiles. 'yeah,' she says. 'even more perfect because i get to share it with you.'

'gross,' you say, although you might suddenly cry. 'sappy.'

'yeah, yeah. whatever.'

you keep your arm around ava's shoulders and watch beatrice and ray trade tricks the next set, and then they both call it and walk, laughing, toward you. ava struggles to stand with a frown, and you offer your arm for her to take if she wants. she does, smiles quickly in thanks and then, you know too, moves on without a word. she kisses beatrice soundly on the mouth, then pushes her goofy bucket hat off her head, fastened around her neck and resting on the back of her shoulders, and then gratuitously unzips her wetsuit while ray rolls her eyes.

it's a whole big world, you learn more and more every day. ray joins you for breakfast and then ava takes you shopping while you're pretty sure beatrice just naps. ava uses her chair and brings korra, which is mostly just the coolest thing in the world to you, because she has a whole van customized too, and she just — you had known, when you were younger, when ava would get to go outside in her chair, that nothing was limiting her other than care, and access. you had been limited too, and you ached with it. you ache differently now, because ava navigates her day fully and independently: a wheelchair lift for the stairs, and a huge, beautiful closet and kitchen where she can reach everything without having to stand, and korra, who can turn on lights and open doors and brings you a juice from the fridge when you sit down and mention you're thirsty; ava grins with the command and then praises korra, and you scratch her soft head and even softer ears.

beatrice does supervise when you and ava dye your hair, but ava mostly knows what she's doing, and really gets distracted the most when she looks over at beatrice in lowslung joggers and a cutoff tank and a beanie, leaning against the doorframe quietly, a fond expression on her face. ava wears crop tops and wideleg pants and expensive sneakers and you both end up laughing when you have your matching lavender hair.

you eat edibles that make everything feel lush and slow and perfect, and beatrice laughs softly at ava's ramble about her arms, and she orders a ton of her favorite chinese food that you eat on the patio at sunset. you take some pictures on your film camera, at sunset, and beatrice takes a few of you and ava. you wish you could go back in time and tell both of you, when you were small and sad and scared and abused, that things would be this beautiful one day. that things would be this good.

ava and beatrice eventually say goodnight before they head inside to their bedroom. there's too much light pollution in los angeles to see many of the stars, but you know they're there all the same.

[reel-fear]

Wow, so umm... This looks bad, not only is it inaccurate due to using the wrong ink demon design [unless this is confirmation BATIM Ink Demon has been outright retconned... Which would make me pissed enough to make a new post just about THAT] but from an art standpoint this is just... Confusing and poorly done.

I wouldn't care if this was fanart, of course you should support young, indie artists... But for a Graphic Novel making sure your cover doesn't look like something Butch Hartman shat out in an afternoon is kind of important. Remember they're going to be asking us to give money to them to read this. The artist likely won't see any of that money and neither do the authors most of the time, not to mention this art screams of the artist being underpaid and overworked.

Like they Had to get something on someone's desk and their boss said 'good enough'. A concept Joey Drew Studios is very familiar with considering the allegations of poor working environments that Kindly Beast. Not to mention Mike Mood admitting in a Reddit AMA that they did in fact rush projects like Showdown Bandit. [Which they sold at full price]

He also says they can in fact say no or yes to designs involving their IP. Either Mike or Meatly had to say yes to this cover, according to his own damn words.

And do you really think this company in particular would care enough about its fanbase to not sell them garbage? They have done exactly that on several occasions. It's not like they care particularly about art either, considering their previous use of AI Art. There was no apology or even posts addressing it... Instead, they just rushed out an archives update to their game to get people to stop talking about it... Even forgetting an entire character in it. Again

This company is [or at least SHOULD BE] on thin ice when it comes to being suspected of misleading their fans or rushing out crappy products to them.

So with all that context in mind, I'm gonna talk about why this cover sucks ass.

The light sources are all over the place? Why does it look like someone put maces or knight armor on his shoulders but it's just flesh?? It looks both gross and weird [not in a good way either]

To explain more I'm going on a rant below but sadly this seems to have been confirmed to not just be a rough pass but the final cover and man... I am not excited about this graphic novel just at all. This felt like it really drained any possibility of it turning out good for me and I already had expectations low.

Okay first point, the light sources?? And there is no consistency here with the shadows or lighting, it looks like there's a hundred light sources all at once but none of them are even consistent!

the arrows here represent all the different light sources I can make out and yet the the shadow clearly implies there's only one. I understand wanting to use highlights to give the character a more clear shape but then just give him one or two lights behind him or in front of him? No matter how u follow the light sources, the highlights make no sense and the shadows make even less sense.

Why are the shoulders like that? Like on the legs it's a little understandable, at least those are clearly very heavily affected by perspective, for me I think they are so exaggerated it makes it look like one of the legs is either huge or one is small but that's maybe subjective.

However, the shoulders are unjustifiable, what happened there, what did they do??

I could pick on so much more honestly, how the color choices of piss yellow with no other colors being used, and the harsh pitch black being used for every part of his body is weird. How it looks straight out of Butch Hartman's recent crappy art. But to put bluntly bad start! Also what the HELL is going on with this background??

Seems once again the Bendy team is fine with sending out stuff thinking it's "Good Enough" for Bendy fans and honestly the people trying to tell me to "Be Grateful" for this are just proving that no matter how many times you betray your audience some of em will defend you!

Which is sad tbh. If anything we should be putting MORE pressure on the Bendy team to do better. Cause we deserve better than this, honestly we do. There are amazing artists in the bendy community who could do so much better for a cover. They've employed their fan artists before... Wouldn't it be great to do that for such a lore important book? The book that gives us the identity of one of the main characters in BATIM? The character you spend the entirety of Chapter 4 fighting to save? Not to mention will give several major characters their human designs?

But I guess this is... Good enough...

[gaypolls]

ok i just said it doesn't really bother me but i do wanna rant a little bc it's SO insane to claim that you're only a real homosexual if you've never felt an ounce of attraction to ANYONE but your own gender... as though True Attraction is easily defined and quantifiable for everyone? as though gendered attraction is in and of itself something that involves some essence of other people's genders or whatever and not just what you percieve???

think of how many twinks have mistaken for butches and vice versa lmao. is everyone involved in those funny little mixups not a real gay anymore? hell, what about gay people in the closet who can't quite accept their attraction to their own gender yet but their "type" of the "appropriate" gender is effeminate guys/tomboys? if someone wants to enter the gay identity do they absolutely HAVE to renounce all past attraction to the "opposite" gender as fake? why? says who? why would it not be enough to say "i'm significantly happier and feel more natural embracing attraction to, and being with, my own gender"?

like yeah, personally, i do deem the attraction that i used to think i had for women as fake. but i'm an incredibly self-aware and self-analytical and generally In My Head person. i can look in there and see the throughline and know the exact reason i thought i liked girls, and hell, i can even remember the conscious thoughts i had where i was forcing myself to feel it. but i do NOT expect everyone to be the same?? like that would be insane. if everyone was as self-aware as me, specifically. that's not healthy lol.

but anyway, on that same vein, repression and the closet are seriously powerful things. there may have been a layer of conscious attempt to be masculine in the mix, but when i was 16 and searching for things to appreciate in girls' appearances and, because i was trying so hard, sometimes finding them, and acheiving that abstract feeling of attraction that i was looking for... would it really be SO insane if i now wanted to say that yes, i have been attracted to women, and i just got over it?

when i say that i'm not attracted to women now, that doesn't even mean that i have never been attracted to a single woman. it means that womanhood and femininity does not inherently appeal to me. that's where "exceptions" come in - it's literally not that deep. it's when you recognize that you're feeling something, and maybe you're unsure but it seems at least attraction-adjacent, but it's not related to the prerequisite of gender that's usually on your capacity for attraction; it's in spite of it. i have to imagine that the majority of the time when this happens, it's because the person is in fact somewhat androgynous, or some part of you percieved this person as the gender you do like when you weren't conscious of it, or there's some aspect of their appearance that has the right gendered "energy" to you. and sometimes people just look really fucking interesting, or people are just excpetionally beautiful, and it hits you so hard that it seems like attraction but you're really just in a brief moment of awe! sometimes you just enter the cosmic soup for a second!

and feeling superior about having never had this happen to you is... well, it's just that, isn't it? it's purely about feeling superior. i honestly don't even believe that it's truly the case for that one person. i feel like the internal need to say shit like that has got to come from an insecurity about the fact that you're not that "true homosexual" that you're claiming deserves to never be implied to have things in common with all other gay people.

furthermore... the notion of it being homophobic to identify as gay when you're "not 100% internally homosexual"? well i mean obviously that's the terf shit. it's the braindead idea that other people's identities take anything away from you. as if anyone actually identifies as gay "when they're actually bi" just for fun and not because their "straight" attraction is extremely incidental and/or just does not preclude actually acting on it... like duh, lol. and even if it was for fun, it literally still takes nothing. it's a completely imaginary danger.

and it's so batshit in particular bc going out of your way to harass other gay people and tell them they're not gay is objectively the fucking homophobic thing??? like how on earth do you see yourself as the better person here. christ lol

[nerves-nebula]

Think neither of my sisters asking how I was doing and instead asking about if my ex was ok when I told them we broke up set me back years insofar as emotional vulnerability goes. Like I really feel like I was getting better at talking about my feelings and shit and then when we broke up I had no one, cus she was the one I usually talked to. So I tried to talking to the only people I could even sort of consider my support network and not only did they not care how I felt they clearly cared MORE about how she, this person they’d only met a few times, felt.

And it’s like. I just lost my biggest source of emotional support, and now I know my sisters don’t care about me or are, for some reason, under the impression that I wouldnt be in pain about this??? Like at all???

When I brought it up to one of them she just said she didn’t think I loved my ex. And it’s like yea ok I’m aroace and I’m not touchy or romantic but I care about her more than I’ve ever cared about anyone. And we’re still best friends. And I’m still loyal to her I’ve still got her fucking back.

Neither of them even asked why we broke up (it was cuz she cheated on me (kinda on accident it’s complicated but that’s how it made me feel) and I decided neither of us would be happy if we kept dating. I broke up with her cuz I wanted her to be happy and be able to date whoever she wants) so now I wonder if they just assume it was my fault.

I guess that I’ve always known logically that people would see me as being more heartless cuz I don’t get romance or fall in love, but this one hurts even more because my sisters know how sensitive I was as a kid so why the hell do they think that’s changed?

Part of me wonders if it’s just cuz I’m visibly less expressive nowadays or cuz I look more masculine. Is this like a butch thing where ppl don’t think you have feelings once you’re not seen as sensitive emotional girl anymore. Like yea maybe I seem emotionless now!!! Cuz I’m emotionally numb!!! Dickheads!!! I’m in constant emotional pain and I’m too tired and wary to express it!!

Why do my sisters not know me anymore. Why did they treat me like I wasn’t still that devastated overly emotional kid they grew up with. Why am I not worth worrying about. Do I gotta kill my self to get any sympathy here or what.

Anyway ignore this. It’s past 1 am so I’m just bein sadddd

[simplysedusa]

My PPG WIP as DBZA Quotes - Part 1

*Boomer and Butch break free of Him's hypnosis, only to be badly beaten by Him, and are laying on the ground unconscious*

Brick: MY BABY BROTHERS!

(Brick angrily charges at HIM)

The Powerpuff Girls: Brick, no!

Brick: BRICK, YESSSSSSS!

....

*Brick laying in an ocean, after sparring with Boomer who managed to kick him that far*

Brick: Huh, this is a new feeling: pride in someone else.

(Brick wipes his face and looks at the blood)

Brick: Unfortunately, it's overshadowed by all this UNYIELDING RAGE!

....

Professor Utonium, as Powerprof in a fight: Rocket Punch!

The Powerpuff Girls, internally: Wow, really?

The Rowdyruff Boys, internally: THAT IS SO COOL!

....

Ms. Keane: GET YOUR FLITHY HANDS OFF OF THEM, YOU DAMN DIRTY APE!

Giant Mojo Jojo: Oh, very creative. And what exactly will you do if I don't?

Ms. Keane: I'll make you regret it! Law of mass dictates that the mass of an object dramatically increases the force of impact when said object collides with the ground; and, with your size, you'll make an extensively large impact upon your inevitable defeat!

Mojo, The Rowdyruff Boys, The Powerpuff Girls, and the entire City of Townsville: What?

Ms. Keane: The bigger they are, the harder they fall!

....

Princess, while being carried by Blossom: Oh, well how nice of you to finally come and get me... Oh and leave me stranded all on my own to fend for myself! City's going to hell, I almost die, and I'M FREAKING THE FUCK OUT!

Blossom, calmly: Princess, how high would you have to fall from to hit terminal velocity?

Princess:

Blossom: I thought so.

....

Buttercup, about the villains who escaped: We don't need Blossom, Brick, or anyone else. We have enough badass on our team as it is! Now if you'll excuse me, you can all just sit on your hand while I go up there and take care of business.

Elmer: Or, maybe we can hide, sneak closer to them, survey the situation from up close and perhaps catch them by surprise?

Bubbles:

Buttercup:

Boomer:

Mitch:

Princess:

Robin:

Butch: ...y'all are bitches.

....

*Bubbles and Boomer are sparring*

Boomer, internally: Damn it, she's tough. I guess that's what I should expect from a Powerpuff Girl.

Bubbles, internally: 🎶 Baby shark do-do-do-do-do-do– 🎶

....

HIM, to Mojo Jojo, about the Rowdyruff Boys: They'll see their life long purpose of destroying the girls to the end, even if it kills them.

The Rowdyruff Boys: We quit.

HIM: I'LL KILL THEM!

Mojo Jojo: What did they say?

Brick: We quit.

Butch: I'm done.

Boomer: They win!

HIM and Mojo Jojo: EVERY WORD YOU SPOKE HAS MADE ME VIOLENTLY ANGRY!

HIM and Mojo Jojo: Oh look, now I'm agreeing with HIM/Mojo. LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO!

[tepehkwi]

i am going to make my own post because i feel like i can kind of speak to this as someone who was formerly misguided but i used to have a lot of issues with what the hell my identity even was, and i once went through a brief phase where, being a butch and amab trans person, i personally thought that my whole deal could be summed up as "i feel transmasculine because i am definitely 'trans' and i am butch and i feel masc, i don't really feel feminine and idk about whether or not i feel like a woman, can't it work that way?" and the answer is... not really? forgive me if i am not the most articulate person but this has been on my mind a lot lately due to the discourse over the "can a cis woman call herself an afab transfem?" question.

this is not the same as other so-called "contradictory labels" like, idk, bi lesbians and pan gays or whatever. because the 'masc' and 'fem' parts of transmasc and transfem do not exactly denote masculine and feminine necessarily. and i completely empathize with these terms not being perfect due to the heavily gendered baggage (and transneutral is one that a lot of both tme and tma trans people i know use but this one is also complicated because even "neutral" still carries gendered baggage, though i understand that this term can be more affirming and euphoric to a lot of people) but these terms can maybe more accurately be defined as words that identify clusters of experience? specifically whether someone in the trans community is transmisogyny-affected or transmisogyny-exempt.

i regularly see the same small number of other trans people insisting that transmisogyny-affected and transmisogyny-exempt is creating some kind of unnecessary division or "new binary" in the trans community but this is why i actually find tme and tma far more useful for describing experiences than transmasc and transfem. if anything, "transmasc and transfem" are arguably (but i'm not making this argument necessarily) more of a "new binary" than tme and tma.

because, as it stands, "transmasc" does not actually mean "trans and masc" it means "afab and transmisogyny-exempt trans person". there are transmascs who are very feminine and transfems like myself who are very masculine. but those feminine transmascs are still as transmisogyny-exempt as cis people are, whereas transfems or tma trans people, regardless of our presentation, are still transmisogyny-affected. all of the time. transmascs may face misdirected transmisogyny and misdirected misogyny, and transmisogyny-exempt nonbinary people may still face misogyny, but amab trans people, whether we identify as nonbinary or transfeminine or transneutral, are still transmisogyny-affected. we are placed in an entirely different box from trans people who are transmisogyny-exempt.

these words and this terminology are not perfect, i am not the first person to say this! but tme and tma are still the most accurate terms we have to describe how this whole gender thing functions in our societies. transmisogyny-affected people experience transmisogyny, which can be inflicted upon us by any transmisogyny-exempt people, including other trans people. that is what we have been trying to tell all of you, this entire time. i sometimes get extremely emotionally overwhelmed because it feels like people are not listening to us, regarding this one basic fact.

so, like, idk, if you seriously genuinely want to call yourself an afab transfem and "nonbinary" doesn't work for you for some reason and you don't "feel cis", can you *at least* please, pretty please, start clarifying that you're transmisogyny-exempt? at the absolute very least?? because you are. you may call yourself transfem and i literally can't stop you, none of us can. but, like other transfems on this site have already said, being around transmisogyny-exempt queer people of any gender can make us as tma trans people feel like we're in the company of ticking time bombs, because of how deeply engrained transmisogyny is in transmisogyny-exempt people. most *transmisogyny-affected* people feel safest around other *transmisogyny-affected* people because of that *transmisogyny* thing we experience all of the time. we don't just "feel" threatened, we are literally threatened by transmisogyny, and transmisogyny-exempt people, no matter who they are or what their gender is, are capable of inflicting transmisogyny upon us.

would it kill you to be mindful of that? 🙏🏽

[unlimitedgolden]

I have toontown headcanons to share so I'm going to just go for it + canon honorifics

PRONOUNS!!!!!!11!11 ROMANCE!!11 AHHHHH1!!!11

Deep Diver is a bigender baddie, she/he (Mr/Ms). Update: I think it'd be really funny if Deep Diver was bigender and bisexual. baby bi bi bi,,,

Gatekeeper she/her (Ms) and also the swaggiest butch lesbian you'll ever see

Firestarter he/they (Mr/Mx) otd. My brain says demiboy and I KNOW he is gay as hell

Featherbedder they/he/she (Mx/Mr/Ms), non-binary in some way, most likely genderfluid. I don't know enough about them right now so that's all I got

Major Player he/hymn (Mr) (this is straight up from the official server), and I honestly think he's pan with a preference to men (Buck Ruffler and their freaky fusion)

Chainsaw Consultant looking like a he/they (Mr) transman, I also think he's bi

Mouthpiece my grandma. She/her (Mrs) and I am a trans grandma truther. She is the elder transhet to me.

Rainmaker she/they (Ms/Mx) and CALL ME INSANE BUT I think they're transmasc and I love her ok. Also bi

Witch Hunter he/him (Mr) and I don't know enough about him yet except he seems like a miserable bloke and a hater

Duck Shuffler he/they/it (Mr) transmasc (projecting lowkey) and he is gay as hell as well idc

Treekiller he/him (Mr) and I don't know enough about him yet either SORRY

Plutocrat he/him (Don/Mr) he seems cishet but I also don't know enough about him either

Bellringer he/him (Mr). I think he's cis but experimenting with he/they. Bi, British, Bell.

Prethinker he/him (Mr) transman? Transmasc? Not sure but he's transgender. Also pan

Multislacker He/They but maybe she too (Mr/Mx) methinks genderfluid. Its the colourscheme I promise. Somewhere on the asexual spectrum to me. Romance? Maybe, maybe not. Not sure.

Pacesetter he/him (Mr) + transman swagger with the gay gay boyfriend on top

RELATIONSHIPS + FAMILY WOOOAHHHH

Prefacing this with the warning of multishipping for funsies and I am a believer of polycules argue with the wall

Deep Diver according to cogs.ink hates Gatekeeper and Treekiller which is so funny to me because I think Deep Diver and Gatekeeper would be cute together

Deep Diver/Gatekeeper with Rainmaker is also so fire. Polycule them NOW

Firestarter and Pacesetter canon boyfriends

Also that one headcanon of Firestarter and Rainmaker being siblings is so cute I'm adopting it

Major Player fused with Duck Shuffler that one time and even though its not a canon event they're really good together. Love wins in every universe

Chainsaw Consultant with Duck Shuffler (thanks Sludge) kissy mwah mwah

Chainsaw Consultant and Rainmaker t4t swagger btw

Rainmaker already mentioned all above but yeah she should get soooo much love. Love wins. Multishipping wins. Polycules win.

Duck Shuffler has two hands to hold one for Major Player and one for Chainsaw Consultant. Polycules babeeey!!! And then I'm on his leg like a diseased animal.

Treekiller and Chainsaw Consultant brothers for realsies

Sometimes I think about that animatic with Plutocrat being interested in Mouthpiece with the spongebob audio. Yknow the one by cogmics. Lives in my head

Bellringer and Prethinker kissing. Idk where it came from but I think they're cute too

Also whoever came up with Pacesetter and Multislacker having a sibling like bond os brilliant. Adopted that hc now too.

Other STUPID HCS before I forget

RUNNING IN TO EDIT THIS BEFORE I FORGET. DUCK SHUFFLER AUTISM ADHD COMBO

CHAINSAW CONSULTANT AUTISM HC REAL TOO

I was talking to my sister about this one but I think it'd be funny if cogs reproduced by just building their offspring like in the Robots movie.

Building my son from scrap parts I found

And again in convo with my sister it'd be funny if toons reproduced by just drawing their children since they're literally cartoons

She said if you look ugly as a toon sorry your parents were just bad at art LMFAO

Furthermore this was to build our own lore on why our toons are siblings but different species and since we agree our dad would be a cog (which I did design) that he must've drawn our toons

Mfw we are our fathers oc

OK I think that's everything for now. I'm immediately sending this to everyone I know for approval