#most white people have always been allowed to “look weird”

[robotpussy]

seen 2 posts already talking about bringing back "weird looking celebrities" and like 😭 why do you have to use those words when discussing how in order to be a celebrity and taken somewhat seriously in today's age you have to look a certain way

[ambigrueity]

Rambling but

Trey is a very subtle character. Unlike most twst memebers a lot about him isn't explicitly said. He spends a lot of his time crafting a perfect image, so an outside perspective of him is difficult to present without there being certain biases in the way characters view him (Leona expecting there to be something more to his dream before realizing no it's just him wanting to bake to his hearts content or Rook believing that he's making tarts filled with love for Riddle but he himself is doing it out of necessity.) He keeps a lot of his emotions close to his chest too so it's not like he's going to talk about it himself. He doesn't soliloquize often. If you noticed in the maze section of Riddle's dream, he barely verbalized his own thoughts about the change in leadership, it was all "cater" driving the conversation. He's introverted and worries a lot about his perception to the point that he stifles what he wants to say in favor of smiling and tentatively manipulating the situation to remain comfortable. (Which Cater points out in Book 1 but THAT got mistranslated from Cater scolding Trey to Cater scolding himself about being more honest with his opinions which doesn't help the lack of understanding that people seem to have) Because he puts so much emphasis on his normalcy, fans seem to have a high expectation for his weirdness when it's kinda been in front of us the whole time. We're not the characters. He's not trying to fool us-- we have an omniscient view into everything he does. So it's obvious looking at it that he has a habit of being smothering/overdoing things. Vil points it out in maschef that he never really gives others space to grow because he's always there to cover every mistake. He hates mustard but believes he can get over it by forcing mustard into every food he can think of until someone had to stop him from putting it in cake and eating it. He's super fixated on dental hygiene and he gets tempted to bake so many different things, purchasing recipe books for fun, before reminding himself to reel it in because making too many would make it so that there was nowhere for those sweets to go. I feel like a lot of people missed a key point of his dream and that is I think Trey feels helpless a lot. A lot of the situations he ends up in are not in his control. So that's why he dotes and placates so that he can try to keep some semblance of it. An illusion of it. So his dream is a place where he doesn't have to do all these things to keep control. He just has it. He has his freedom to do as he likes without it costing him anything. A friend, his parent's dignity, the dorm. He doesn't need to be afraid of any of it. So he allows himself a faulty degree of overindulgence because peace and normalcy doesn't hinge on him. In the real world, every cake he prepared was for peace. But this time the cakes were just cakes. They weren't secretly disguised peace treaties or white flags. In the real world each baked good is within a rule or serves a purpose. In his dream, they can just exist. Just like him. Well anyway sorry brain went all over the place.

[immortalmrwavell]

Getting into Sports

(Written for @transformee)

(Original story posted December 31st 2021) This story has been significantly Updated!

Adam woke up bright and early with a big stretch. Today was his day off so naturally he was excited to just chill out and do whatever for the day. He pulled himself outta bed before groggily strolling up to his wardrobe to pick out some comfortable clothes. Though as he looked over his clothes, he sighed. He pretty much rotated between three different outfits nowadays as most of his clothes had worn out and needed replacing. Maybe it was time to do a bit of clothes shopping.

After throwing on whatever decent clothes he could find, Adam grabbed his keys and wallet before heading out. He was on his way down town when he passed a certain shop. He’d been down this road so many times but somehow he’d never noticed this shop. Just looking at it was giving him weird vibes…

It appeared to be a clothing shop. ‘Threads for Life’ it was called. It seemed so strange and out of place yet Adam couldn’t help feeling drawn to it. Well the whole reason he went out was for some new clothes so why not have a quick look around.

He soon found himself pushing open the door with a creak, causing a bell to jingle. The first thing he saw was multiple rows of clothing racks that extended down the length of the store. It almost certainly seemed bigger on the inside than it looked from the outside. Scanning his eyes across the shop he also noticed that the majority of the clothes seemed to be sold as outfits rather than individual items.

Soon after Adam was greeted by a short man looking to be in his mid 50’s. He kindly introduced himself as Tony. With a big smile, the man explained that he was the shopkeeper and was more than happy to help in any way that he could. He seemed sweet and even offered to walk Adam around the shop to help him find something. Adam shrugged and accepted the offer, allowing Tony to begin leading him down the many aisles of clothing.

As the two walked, Tony pointed out various outfits to Adam. Though as he did, Adam quickly began to notice the more unusual clothing the shop sold. There were some regular clothes sure but he could help noticing more and more costume fits as he was guided through the isles. Things like firefighter uniforms and police uniforms that definitely didn’t seem like the cheap costumes you’d find around Halloween. They were incredibly detailed and well made. They almost looked as though they’d been ripped for actual people in those professions���

“Would you mind if I asked a question sir? Tony asked politely, prompting Adam to respond with a simple nod. “Have you ever been into sports?”

Adam thought it was an odd question but gave an answer anyway. “Well I guess I like watching it sometimes but I wouldn’t say I’m into it. I always thought about playing more sports when I was younger but just never really found the motivation I guess.” He responded truthfully.

“Well it’s never too late to get into it. Especially at your age. What are you 30? 32?” The older man eyed Adam’s frame up and down. He was of average build. Not too fat but not too skinny either. “Maybe buying yourself something a little sporty will help get you into the right mindset!” Tony insisted as he led Adam towards the more sports themed section of the shop.

Adam didn’t really see how buying some random sports gear would make him wanna play more sports but decided he decided to humour the sweet older gentleman.

Looking through the clothing racks he saw kits for all kinds of different sports. Baseball, Tennis, Football and so on. They stopped however when Tony pulled a white Rugby kit off one of the racks. It looked far too big for Adam yet Tony insisted that he at least go and try it on. Adam raised an eyebrow. It had to be a joke right? He let out an amused huff as he took the large t-shirt and shorts before Tony handed him the matching rugby socks and cleats.

Tony pointed Adam in the direction of the changing rooms where he entered a stall and closed the curtain behind him. Placing the rugby kit on the bench, Adam fo7nd himself getting undressed and wondering what the hell he was even doing here. As he put his clothes to one side he looked at himself in the mirror. Looking at his somewhat out of shape body. He was fine with the way he looked now but the thought of losing some weight and gaining some muscle certainly was an attractive one. He figured trying to get into sports might not be that bad of an idea if he gets him into a more active lifestyle.

Picking up the white shorts from the bench, Adam chuckled to himself. There was no way this stuff was gonna fit him but it didn’t seem like Tony was gonna take no for an answer until he was proved wrong. And so, with a sigh, Adam slipped his legs into the shorts and pulled them up. To his surprise the waistband managed to keep the shorts up, albeit very loosely. Adam then tugged on the oversized shirt which hung just as loosely as it consumed his upper body.

It was then he realised that the clothes had a bit of an odd scent. Almost sweaty? As though they’d been recently worn and used. He would’ve complained but… he actually found himself enjoying the smell a little. It sounded weird but the faint masculine aroma was oddly alluring.

Shortly after Adam pulled on the rugby socks. Pulling them all the way up his calves and even then they still felt a little big. That said he found his feet feeling ever so slightly damp with the cold sweat of someone else having stained the socks. And yet he embraced it as he moved onto the cleats, shoving his feet inside. Once again they were clearly a few sizes too big like everything else. Only then did he finally get back up and take a look in the mirror.

He looked ridiculous.

As he already knew, the kit was far too big for him and was practically hanging off his body. “Tch… why did I let that guy talk me into this?” He muttered to himself with a small chuckle. He was just about to step out and prove to Tony how ill fitting the clothes were when he noticed something peculiar. On the shirt there appeared to be a name on the bottom left corner. It didn’t look to be be part of the brand name or anything. More like the name of an owner.

‘Joe Marler’ it said. Only then did a tingling sensation shoot like lightning through Adam’s body. It was finally beginning.

It all started with Adam’s hands growing. He looked down at them in shock and disbelief as they enlarged before his very eyes. Becoming thicker and more calloused by the second. To mirror this, his feet started to expand as well. The once oversized socks began to stretch as his growing feet started to fill out the rugby cleats comfortably.

After that the transformation began to intensify. The changes spread from his hands and feet up towards his arms and legs causing said limbs to shorten ever so slightly. Adam found himself stumbling a little as height shifted, dropping from 6’1 to 6’0 exactly. It was only a single inch but that alone was enough to throw Adam off balance. He leaned against the wall to steady himself as his limbs began to pulse. Pure transformative energy flooded through his body. Every vein. Every muscle. Preparing Adam’s body for the insane growth to come.

His legs were the first to hulk out. His calves and thighs swelled with new mass seemingly out of nowhere. Bulging thicker by the second with levels of size and strength Adam had never before experienced. They grew in enormous trunks of solid muscle meant for both speed and strength when carrying a powerful frame that was yet to come. His thighs were so huge that they couldn’t help rubbing together as they filled out the white shirts perfectly. If anything the shirts began to grow a little tight as Adam’s ass changed next, ballooning into a huge jock butt. His cheeks grew round and plump with a healthy mix of fat and muscle. The kind of ass that would threaten to rip the seams of any pair of pants he wore from now on if he dared to squat or bend down.

By this point Adam was in a daze. On the inside he was shocked by the ongoing transformation but the magic surrounding it filled his mind with a strong haze. It was almost like being drunk. However that didn’t stop him from letting out a long moan when the transformation spread towards his crotch.

There was a strange pulling sensation. It was as though an invisible hand was grabbing his cock and gently tugging on it. And with every tug his cock inched outwards, growing lengthier by the second. Adam couldn’t help subtly bucking his hips to the feeling due to his masculine instinct. His bulge became more and more noticeable until his dick reached a flaccid size of around 6 inches. With that his erect length was bound to be enormous. But it didn’t stop there as the tugging sensation he felt switched to the feeling of a hand squeezing his shaft instead. And with every squeeze it thickened. Becoming fatter and girthier until the outline of his cock was visible through the shorts. And to finish it off the feeling finally moved towards his balls. Massaging them gently like the prized jewels they were as they grew larger and heavier until Adam had a pair of fat full balls to match his intimidating cock.

Adam’s hazy mind didn’t get much chance to process his enormous new manhood as his arms started to pulse. The muscles tightening and relaxing over and over in quick succession as the magic moved through them. Then without warning his biceps, triceps and forearms engorged themselves with muscle. Once again mass added itself onto Adam’s frame seemingly out of thin air, causing his arms to balloon to new and powerful sizes. Once again adorning a layer of healthy fat on top of the muscle to give his arms a thicker, brawnier look just like his massive legs.

His torso had already begun to grow in response to his arms and legs but now the focus was shifting fully towards it. But not before his shoulders and traps had a chance to bulk up considerably. Further broadening his frame and forcing him to take up more space.

Adam jutted around a little as his waist grew wider. The small belly Adam had strengthened as it grew into a powerful gut. He still might not have had visible abs but his core still grew a hell of a lot stronger. And now that belly fat he once had was being fairly distributed to give him a far more burly frame. The type of body most would refer to as a muscle bear. This only became more true as Adam’s pecs practically inflated like two meaty beachballs waiting to be groped and massaged. They filled out the previously baggy shirt gloriously. Said shirt stretching nice and tight as his back finished broadening as well

By this point Adam’s entire body had morphed into something unrecognisable. Into his beefy collosus of a man he hardly recognised in the mirror before him. The meaty legs and bulky arms. Not to mention the bubbly butt. He had the body of a man who worked out almost every day and probably ate like an animal to maintain all this size. The only thing left that Adam could recognise was his face. But even that wouldn’t last.

His neck had already grown thicker along with his shoulders and traps, but now the lump in his throat was changing. Lowering his voice a couple octaves until he found himself letting out very deep and gruff moans. He now had the deep baritone voice of a man that would’ve previously melted him into a puddle. Just hearing it escape his lips in the form of masculine moans was making his cock twitch his knees wobble.

But with that his head started to buzz. It began reshaping itself as the features prepared themselves to morph. The feeling was different from everything else. Up until now his transformation had felt raw and forceful. But this was gentle and delicate. Like multiple pairs of hands massaging every inch of his head and remodeling it as if he were a clay sculpture. Sharpening certain features while dulling others. Mostly giving Adam’s face a rougher and more masculine look. This also extended to his hair as the short salt and pepper cut he adorned shrunk and receded back into his scalp, leaving him with a shaved head. Yet on the opposite side, his once clean shaven face found itself sprouting a thick full beard.

But the changes to his head weren’t just physical. They were mental too. He could feel his brain being molded just like everything else had been. Mostly he could feel his IQ draining. Getting dumber and dumber by the second. Replacing all that lost intelligence with knowledge about all sorts of different sports along with gym know how. Along with that he could feel his personality changing that of a boisterous and confident man who wasn’t afraid to speak his mind.

With that, Adam sensed the transformation was finally over as whatever strange magic had overtaken his body subsided. He looked in the mirror once again, awestruck by the sight.

One of the first things he did was run a thick hand across his bald head. All he felt was a thin and tiny layer of hair up there and not much of a hairline either. He then ran his hands through his new beard, really enjoying how it felt under his touch.

Adam’s entire body just transformed before his very eyes. He should’ve been freakung the fuck out! And yet somehow he felt calm. Not only that but just so focused on his new burly form. It was mesmerizing to look at. He knew it wasn’t his but at the same time it felt so right. Like this was how he was supposed to look.

Looking away from the mirror and down at his actual body, Adam could truly see that all the clothes now fit his body perfectly now. Almost like they made for him. His pecs pressed generously against the shirt in a way that showed off his rigid nipples. He just couldn’t stop himself from tweaking them a little, letting out a deep groan in the process. Going on to further explore his new chest and stomach by running those bearish hands up and down his torso.

Naturally he then did what almost any man in his situation would do. He curled each hand into a fist before raising up both arms and flexing his biceps nice and hard. Watching gleefully as the muscle bulged in a display of his newfound strength. Adam’s eyes didn’t know whether to dart between each arm or to look back into the mirror to see his bulky reflection flexing back at him.

All the while it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore his hardening cock. By now it was nearing its full girthy length of 8.5 inches and the outline in his shorts was painfully obvious. He’d need to learn how to control his new beast because any unwanted erections from now on were gonna be difficult to hide.

A short time later Tony finally decided to check in on Adam and see if everything had gone to plan. “So, did you find everything alright?” Tony asked as he carelessly peered around the curtain. Immediately he was greeted by the sight of a hulking rugby player with his shorts around his ankles as he groped at his fat new jock butt. Jiggling it with a dumb laugh as his cock stood upright at full attention.

Adam should’ve been embarrassed when he saw Tony peeping in on him but he was too horny to care. “Yeah this kit is amazing brother! But would you mind if I just had a minute to… relieve some of this pressure?” He grabbed his cock with a stupid grin before facing the mirror again.

“Well normally I’d say yes. I don’t mind if my customers have a little fun after finding a new fit but a new customer just walked in and I’ve only got the one changing room.” Tony claimed before looking over his shoulder to see another man browsing the aisles behind him. “But I don’t want to leave you unsatisfied so how about I speed things along for you?” Tony smiled before pointing at Adam’s thick new cock. A little beam of light shot from Tony’s finger and hit Adam’s cock directly and caused it to glow.

“OooOOhhhh FuUUcccCckk… Whhaat did You Doooo??…” Adam groaned like an animal as immeasurable amounts of pleasure flowed through his crotch. It felt as if he were being given a hundred blowjobs all at once! He tossed his head back in pure bliss as his cock bucked and pulsed uncontrollably before finally erupting with a blast of cum that emptied his bull balls completely, splattering the mirror with his seed in the process.

“That was an orgasm spell. A little magic trick I learned quite a while back. Does exactly what it says and causes the target to have an extreamly powerful and almost instant orgasm.” Tony explained. “Now get those shorts pulled back up big fella. You’ve got a whole new life to live out there in the world.”

Adam did just that, wiping off his cock before tugging up *his* underwear and shorts. Once again adoring the reflection that stared back at him in that mirror. He’d never imagined having a body like this. Large, thick and powerful. But it all his now and he couldn’t have been more delighted.

“Oh and just before you leave… could you please take your mess with you?” Tony pointed a finger towards the cumstained mirror.

“Sure thing brother. You got anything I can use to clean it with!” Adam asked with a laugh.

Tony shook his head while still pointing a finger at the splattered mirror. “No need.” With that the sticky man seed found itself detaching from the mirror on its own as all the cum gathered itself in a small blob floating up in the air. Adam hardly had a chance to react before Tony pointed his finger towards the burly man. The entire load flew towards the new rugby player at blinding speed before forcing itself into his open mouth. Adam’s eyes widened with surprise as he found himself being forced to swallow his own salty nut.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Adam shouted moments later. “Could’ve given me a warning…” he tried his best to sound annoyed but honestly he was kinda turned again already.

And with that, Adam was free to leave the shop which had changed his life forever. On his way out he saw the new customer who was still browsing. He grinned to himself knowing they wouldn’t be the same when they walked out either. But that's none of his concern.

Now he was just a big dumb rugby jock who’s only real concerns in life now were fucking dudes, getting fucked by dudes and playing sports.

[wileys-russo]

Alessia Russo “if Kim asks Kyra did it. Training.

recovery roomII a.russo

"well well if it isn't our little hat trick hero!" you looked up from your phone with a grin, steph getting out of her own car as you pushed up off of the side of yours.

"if it isn't the mighty captain catley! where's your child?" you teased, kyra not having left stephs side basically the entire camp. "oh god i have had the most blissful two days kid, you don't even understand!" steph moaned happily, dean having whisked her away to a spa to help with the jetlag.

"you picked a good one steffy." you smiled, always happy to see how well dean treated her and had treated her for the many years they'd been together.

"your turn next! when are we going out to test my wings?" steph asked with an excited glint in her eyes as the two of you started to wander across the parking lot waving to a few of the girls doing the same.

"oh my god stop that stephanie please." you laughed, face burning bright red at the way the older girl was flapping her arms around like she was a bird. "what? i'm being a wingwoman." steph grinned as you shoved her and the two of you fell into step again.

as far as your teammates both for club and country were concerned, you were in their eyes painfully single.

they went out of their way on team nights out to try and take turns pointing out people from all walks of life they felt would be a good fit for you, or stealing your phone to argue over whose turn it was to swipe away on your dating apps.

and up until a couple of months ago, you appreciated their efforts. as much as what most of the girls perception of your 'type' was, was horrifically wrong.

but that all changed when a certain blonde striker came barreling into your life, knocking the air from your lungs and kicking the cobwebs off your heart, filling you with emotions and feelings that up until then you'd assumed were permanently retired.

but neither you or alessia were oficially 'out' and hadn't ever had any sort of public relationship your entire careers, so with a plaguing fear in the back of both your minds that allowing the public eye into your little bubble would pop it entirely, you'd kept things very much to yourselves.

you'd both made an agreement before international break that you were feeling near ready to tell your family and closest friends at the very least, neither one of you feeling any sort of pressure from the other which was a welcome relief.

but not having seen your girlfriend for going on two weeks now, with you away on camp with the matildas and alessia with the lionesses, you were in an extra chirpy mood.

which is how you found your jaw near aching with how hard you'd been smiling all morning, relishing in catching up with all of your teammates and friends.

but eyes flickering to the doors of the cafeteria every few seconds awaiting your favorites blonde entrance you couldn't contain the butterflies fluttering around in your stomach in anticipation.

"oi! spade cadet, you still with us?" you were snapped back to reality as leah clicked her fingers in your face, humming and trying to tune into their conversation. "sorry, had some weird dreams, slept funny." you were quick to speak, excuse seemingly accepted as no one else prodded you for anything further.

then finally you heard her before you saw her, her boisterously melodic laugh echoing around the cafeteria as she walked in with vic and emily, shoving the shorter dutch girl beside her who hurried away to jump on teyah.

her eyes roamed the room before they locked with yours, sending you a dazzling white smile and a wink before she grabbed a tray and loaded up with breakfast, making a beeline for the spare seat at your table as the girls all greeted her happily.

"hi lessi." you smiled softly, swooning as she repeated the greeting back in the sweet accent you'd grown to adore, her foot brushing up against your calf beneath the table as she pushed you her juice and your eyes lit up, her own heart melting at the sight.

"steph!" you protested as before you could grab the small bottle it was snatched from your path, the older girl cracking it open and downing a large mouthful, pushing you away with her free hand as you reached for it.

"i had to poison check it! i'm just looking out for ya." your national captain grinned finally handing you back the now half empty bottle as you scowled and she only pinched your cheek in response.

"kyra's been a bad influence on you." you huffed with a roll of your eyes, her shoulder bumping into yours before she returned to her conversation with beth.

you looked up as someone gently kicked you, a smile curling onto your face as you and alessia played footsies under the table, careful not to stare too adoringly at one another and engage with your teammates around you.

catching your gaze you saw the blonde subtly nod behind her as she stood, grabbing both her tray and yours as well as leah and beths, a chorus of thank you's sung her way as she made her way out of the cafeteria.

you waited a few minutes before doing the same, lying to steph that you left something in your car and wanted to hurry to grab it before training when she stood to go with you, assuming you were heading to the media room for the mornings debrief.

caught up saying hello to a few more of the girls on your way you eventually made it out and carefully ensuring you weren't being followed or watched ducked away to your usual meeting place with your english striker.

you'd barely stepped into the recovery room before her hands were on you, a laugh leaving your mouth as the door banged shut and she had the audacity to shush you, wolfish grin on her features as she pressed you against the tiled wall.

"me? you made me slam it!" you whisper yelled at her, both of you pulling the other into a tight hug, melting into one anothers touch with content sighs.

"i missed you." alessia mumbled out, peppering a few kisses to your neck before pulling her head back. "we facetimed nearly every night!" you teased, arms wrapping around her neck as the taller girl smiled lovingly down at you.

"no thats where you say 'baby i missed you more'. then we argue for awhile over who really missed the other more, and then i just shut you up with a kiss." alessia beamed as you shook your head, fingers scratching at the base of her neck, fiddling with a few loose baby hairs which had fallen out of the bun at the back of her head.

"can we just skip to that part then?" you teased, puckering your lips and pulling her closer as her body vibrated in amusement but she wasted no time arguing, quickly pressing her mouth against yours.

you exhaled happily at the sensation of kissing her, forever consumed with the euphoric feeling which warmed your body from the tips of your toes right to the end of your nose, your whole body alight.

"babe we have the meeting!" you reminded with a laugh, the words mumbled against her lips as alessia pressed you more firmly into the wall, hands squeezing your hips and using the moment to slip her tongue into your mouth.

"less." you warned, pulling back with a slight gasp as she held your bottom lip captive between her teeth, sucking it back into her mouth as her right hand moved to cup the back of your head so she had a little more control over you continuing to pull away.

right as her feet kicked your own apart, her thigh slotting in between yours and your breath hitched, a few more gentle but sloppy kisses trailed down your collarbone, the door suddenly flew open.

both of you breaking apart alessia wasted no time taking your hand and yanking you around the corner, both of you ducking out of view as your hands covered one anothers mouths and you heard a few members of staff discussing the plans for today, clearly grabbing some extra yoga mats before they departed, both of you exhaling in relief.

"that was way too close. you have no self control russo!" you smacked her chest, the grin still sitting happily on her face as both of your cheeks were flushed red with heat and your eyes rolled.

"we've still got seven minutes to the meeting and it only takes two and a half to walk there from here?" your girlfriend wiggled her eyebrows making you laugh as she pulled you gently into a much softer kiss, hands falling either side of your face as you sighed happily into her mouth.

"okay! we can continue this tonight." you pulled away and poked her, tugging her hands off and pushing for her to start walking. only you really should have taken into consideration that it was alessia you were dealing with, the girl born with two left feet both ten sizes too big for her body apparently.

so though it was a hardly a rough push, it was enough for your girlfriend to consequently trip over her own feet and go sailing toward the ground, reaching out for a shelf to try and steady herself but instead she only succeeded in pulling that down with her.

you stifled your laugh as she shielded her face and the viles of various essential oils and creams they used for massages came sailing down on top of her, somehow not breaking as finally the noise stopped and you both held your breath for a moment that no one would walk in.

when you heard no footsteps you doubled over laughing, the striker sitting up blushing in embarrassment and smacking your ankle, mumbling that it wasn't funny as she stood to her feet with a huff.

"come on clumsy." you shook your head in amusement, grabbing her hand and guiding her toward the door as she pouted clearly feeling very sorry for herself.

only right as you went to exit you both jumped a foot in the air as another one of the shelves came down, apparently attached to the other and this time the various containers which fell did break with an almighty crash and smash.

you and alessia shared a wide eyed glance and booked it out of the room, your girlfriend pulling you again around a corner and stealing a kiss as you both laughing into one anothers mouths to try and stifle the noise to no luck."

"if kim asks, kyra did it."

[patricia-taxxon]

Endogenic systems as a whole are, legitimately, not harming anyone. They aren’t taking resources from anyone. I once made a pretty big post about how being anti-endo also often devolves into racism (it was ostensibly a large post about how White People really like to shit on endo systems and it almost always develops into a like of thinking that is horrifically racist against cultures such as mine where plurality isn’t always medicalized but a tumblr askbox isn’t the place to copy paste it and also I get enough death threats from white anti-endos that I am perfectly happy to remain anonymous)

I am/was a huge fan of your content, but the fact of the matter is you’re (to my knowledge) undiagnosed with a condition that is both unprovable as of right now even for medical professionals and with a condition that many (most) medical professionals outright do not think exist, to the average person and even the average psych, my culturally accepted endogenic plurality and your medical plurality are equally fake, and the fact that you immediately jumped on the ‘yes there are reasons for us to be mad at endogenic systems’ is disappointing but frankly not surprising given how common it seems to be for (especially white) traumagenic systems to think they need to prove something by being ‘the more valid system’ or immediately turning and snapping at people with similar but different experiences.

Do some endo systems suck? Yes. That’s people for you. Some traumagenic systems suck too, I’ve been sent some of the craziest, vilest, most racist asks, threats, and death threats in the world by traumagenic systems but it has never once stopped me from empathizing with and advocating for them, but it does say a lot to me when someone on the other end of the spectrum decides that since endo systems don’t have the exact same experiences as them that we’re dirty and lesser and most be fake claimed immediately.

My feelings do not matter to you, I am an anonymous stranger on the internet, I have a cynical idea in my head as to how this ask is going to be answered, but I feel the need to send it anyway as a plea to please not fall into the syscourse hole like this, I don’t have a parasocial thing going on but I’ve always enjoyed how you seemed to want so badly for people to be their weird authentic selves, and the suddenly starting to veer into this particular side of the discourse is surprising to me — it shouldn’t be, you’re a stranger and I expect most strangers to be this way towards most systems.

I suppose if it even matters I should also point out that a big issue with attacking/fakeclaiming/looking down on endo systems is that a good handful of endo systems are in fact traumagenic systems; they shouldn’t have to be for people to respect the lives of others around them, and saying this always feels to me the same way I feel telling white people ‘you should care about brown people that aren’t your friends too’, but many traumagenic systems who have the very very common memory loss that comes with DID and OSDD often do not remember their trauma and ergo go ‘I suppose I’m endogenic!’

I’m not expecting this ask to be particularly mind changing, I don’t think anyone has ever changed or formed a new opinion or added complexity to their opinion after getting an anonymous tumblr ask, but I am hoping that if you do end up being anti-endo that you can at least do the research and talk to the people necessary to not slide into the abject racism that every single other anti-endo I have ever known has. Because it’s less of a slippery slope and more of a cliff.

To be clear for anyone else because sometimes people think I’m saying this means white people can’t be endo plural; I think white endogenic systems are also perfectly real, but as an indigenous person from a nation where being plural is especially ‘normal’ I am allowed personally to be default wary of white syscoursers/assume white people have internalized racism by default without centering white voices endo or traumagenic.

Oh, so it's proshippers and antis. There's no arguments, just take one take all clusters of beliefs that are foisted onto people as soon as they express something that can somehow be construed to be in line with one label or the other. Thanks.

[proshippers-against-censorship]

This is long and Idk how to put this, but antis seem to have this strange... obsession with fictional characters they can pretend are kids. They put this idea of innocence on a pedestal because they need to "white knight" them. But if they try that with kids and teens they'll be treated as weird and told to stay away from them or the kids/teens will act against their expectations, making them realize they're REAL and have their own personalities and wants that won't align with theirs and break the antis' delusions. But with characters they can make them helpless, force them to be helpless and more importantly, keep them that way, making them need antis to protect them. Antis can be their heroes and get praise and admiration from them. And they can force them to always be in danger, always need them. That's why they couldn't care less about people, even kids, but are so gung-ho about characters. And why they're only focused on sexual things. People are sadly used to violence these days, and the religious idea of "sex being a sin" is also commonplace imo, and these characters are used physical danger so they can save themselves. But sex is a "bad thing" and something they can pretend the characters aren't used to even if they're high schoolers, so antis can swoop in, saving them from a "traumatic experience" earning the characters' worship for however long they want. Being an anti is an ego thing, it's not about being a good person or about morals, it's purely and inherently a self-centered idea created solely to allow the person to feel special. Since most antis are teens, Idk if they're scared because they realized how uncaring the world can be and took the idea that you have to make your own meaning too far in the wrong direction, or, as the cynic in me believes, they grew up on social media which made them develop main character syndrome and have a severe lack of empathy for anyone but themselves. If all this makes sense. Idk, I'm just spit-balling because I don't understand how being an anti is the hot new trend among the youth even though proshipping is the standard and how things have always worked, and the world didn't end, murderers and pedos didn't increase in numbers, because again, the proshipping stance is how it's always been but antis are suddenly trying to create a problem where there's never been one and keep trying to force reality to conform to their fantasies. I just don't understand how people could look at the world and then genuinely believe the world works the opposite of how it actually does, like flat earthers. And Idk why so many kids would fall for this nonsense and why antis are so commonplace nowadays. Imo, antis just...really need therapy cause it feels like they have this debilitating NEED to be a modern fairy tale hero you know?

I sometimes wonder if being an anti is a final, desperate bid for control after a lot of them realize that life isn't exactly something that can be controlled to the extent they want it to be.

[triptychcryptid]

I don't vibe with the "Ford can do no wrong," "what ego? He doesn't have an ego" mentality. Look, Ford and Stan are my FAVORITE characters in the show. And it's because they're so complex. Ford absolutely has a huge ego. Alex Hirsch even said in the podcast that it was a big point of his character. His ego was his hubris. Bill says on the website, and I BELIEVE in TBOB that Ford has a huge ego, too.

That, coupled with some crippling insecurities, is what made him so easy to manipulate. But that doesn't mean we should hate him, either. People aren't black and white. We operate in a LOT of gray area. He's grown and learned, and by the end of the show, he actually showed alot of maturity in regards to Stan and the kids. The fact that Stan sacrificed himself to save the universe showed Ford that Stan wasn't the selfish ass he spent 30 years believing he was. Don't get me wrong, Stan can be kinda selfish, but I think alot of it comes from spending so long being denied things.

Being denied love from his father. Being denied redemption from those around him because they all just saw him as a troublemaker. Seeing Ford get what he perceived as the emotional stability he so desperately craved and thinking Ford's life was so great because they'd BOTH been told it would be. Then after all the living out of his car and being in prison, beaten up, running from people who wanted to kill him, he faked his death and got a second chance. He was finally able to "be his own man" in a sense.

He could have the things he wanted, and he got the love he always wanted, from Dipper and Mabel. He'd become a beloved (if sometimes only tolerated) member of the Gravity Falls community. He wasn't about to give that up to Ford like he'd given up most things. But the incident with the portal obviously filled him with a lot of guilt and regret, and he was just SO happy to find out Ford was alive. Having the kids for the summer also showed an embittered, hardened old man that there were still things to live for. People to care about.

The thing with Stan is he's also got ego and insecurities, but he's not as easily manipulated because he's used to not trusting people's intentions. And I don't think Ford actually realized how much Stan kinda lived in his shadow. And in turn, Stan learned that there ARE trustworthy people in his life that love and care about him just for being the weird, grumpy, crazy old man that he is. Because they've learned that he will go to great lengths to protect the people he cares about, but he doesn't allow himself to care about deeply about many people because he's afraid he's going to hurt them, or they're going to hurt him.

If you are in this man's purposefully small inner circle, you are a very lucky person.

[deadpresidents]

Thanks for being real today.

I get people wanting to be hopeful.

But I can't with "it will be okay" and "we will survive this."

It was not okay for Heather Heyer, Joseph Rosenbaum, Anthony Huber, Joyce Fienberg, Richard Gottfried, Rose Mallinger, Jerry Rabinowitz, Cecil & David Rosenthal, Bernice & Sylvan Simon, Daniel Stein, Melvin Wax, Irving Younger, Andre Anchondo, Jordan Anchondo, Arturo Benavides, Leonardo Campos, Angie Englisbee, Maria Flores, Raul Flores, Guillermo "Memo" Garcia, Jorge Calvillo García, Adolfo Cerros Hernández, Alexander Gerhard Hoffman, David Johnson, Luis Alfonzo Juarez, Maria Eugenia Legarreta Rothe, Maribel (Campos) Loya, Ivan Filiberto Manzano, Elsa Mendoza Marquez, Gloria Irma Márquez, Margie Reckard, Sara Esther Regalado Moriel, Javier Rodriguez, Teresa Sanchez, Juan Velazquez, or any of the other people killed by white supremacists whose actions were aided and abetted by the Trump presidency. These people did not survive. Not to mention all the people who haven't survived COVID, but might have if the Trump administration had taken timely action. Or the women who have died after being refused appropriate medical care because of the rapist and his buddies that Trump appointed decided with some weird pastor in the 1600 said was more important than the lives of actual living, breathing, human beings. Or the school children who would not have been shot to death if we had actual gun control laws in this country, a thing that would have been possible to achieve if Trump had lost in 2016.

Yeah, sure, the majority of us in the United States will probably survive. That's how statistics work. And if that's what somebody needs to hear in order to move forward, then I guess saying such things has a purpose. But it's looking pretty shitty for anybody living in Ukraine and to me, it comes across as disrespectful to the people whose lives have been lost in no small part thanks to what goes down in US elections.

I needed somebody today who would say not only that this is not okay, but this is *really* not okay.

Thanks for being that voice.

Thank you for this. I can't help but write what I feel, even if some of it hasn't been the most optimistic message to send. There is a reality that we need to come to terms with in order to find some way forward. I'm pissed off and I'm disgusted with this country, so I'm going to keep doing what I've been doing because it is therapeutic for me right now and I'm too old to go around punching and kicking people.

I do want to say that I'm also cognizant of the fact that some people just need some time to allow this reality to settle. I certainly don't want to add to the stress or darkness that some of us are feeling right now. There is no denying that this is fucking terrible, but we will regroup and find a way through it. It won't be easy and we're going to have to fight, but I don't want anybody to think that there is genuinely no hope. There's always something that we can do, even if it seems bleak.

If I'm writing something or somebody else is saying something that you're not ready to hear, it's okay to do what you need to do to remain healthy. These posts are going to be here whenever you might feel like reading them. You can and should step away from this if you just need a fucking break. It doesn't mean you're any less ready or willing to fight this battle than anybody else. Even if Trump and the rotten MAGA cult takes control of every lever of power, you can gain a personal victory by not allowing them to completely crush your faith in the future. You can be depressed and despair, but do not give up. Do not give them that power over you. We will find a way. We will get through this. We will figure out what it is that we need to do and who we need to back and how we need to attack, but taking care of your personal health and well-being is more immediately important than the bigger political battle or the next step in the resistance. Take care of yourselves first and we'll still be here and ready to eventually harness this anger and frustration and fucking disgust to defeat the MAGA movement and Trump's Christian nationalist personality cult.

The main thing, though, is that if you're really having a tough time in the immediate future, step away, take some time, go for a walk, read something that has absolutely nothing to do with Donald Trump or American politics (if you need suggestions, I always have book recommendations!), and regroup. Again, we'll get through this, and as goofy and weird and ridiculous as Tumblr can be at times, there's always a community of people on this site willing to listen and help each other when we're struggling. So, if you are having trouble getting to tomorrow, reach out because there are scores of people here who will help get there with you.

[urmumsfan]

haileigh made me do this.

a 100 questions thing , not gonna do a npt but anyone can join

1. what is your middle name ?

— don’t have one

2. how old are you ?

— 14

3. when is your birthday ?

— august 31st

4. what’s your zodiac sign ?

— virgo but idc for zodiac signs

5. what is your favourite colour ?

— purple

6. what’s your lucky number ?

— 69

7. do you have any pets ?

— never had any

8. where are you from ?

— ukraine , born and raised

9. how tall are you ?

— 5’’3 *people screaming in the background*

10. what shoe size are you ?

— eu 36 , according to google us 5.5

11. how many pairs of shoes do you own ?

— about 6 , would spend all my money on shoes if i could

12. what was your last dream about ?

— do i look like i know literally what

13. what talents do you have

— being cool

14. are psychic in any way ?

— no & i don’t rlly believe in that shit

15. favourite song ?

— me and your mama by childish gambino

16. favourite movie ?

— spider-man : across the spiderverse (can u tell ??)

17. who would be your ideal partner ?

— wouldn’t u like to know , weather boy ( @canisusmajor )

18. do you want children ?

— no , but we’ll see

19. do you want a church wedding ?

— will decide that with my partner lmao

20. are you religious ?

— yes

21. have you ever been to a hospital ?

— rarely but yes , nothing too serious

22. have you ever got in trouble with the law ?

— no

23. have you ever met any celebrities ?

— no fuck you

24. baths or showers ?

— showers fs

25. what colour socks are you wearing ?

— white always

26. have you ever been famous ?

— no not particularly

27. would you like to be a big celebrity ?

— famous no , rich yes

28. what type of music do you like

— mostly rap , hip-hop , r&b , but in general anything as long as it’s good

29. have you ever been skinny dipping ?

— no ts lowkey weird

30. how many pillows do you sleep with ?

— with 1 rn but i lowkey wanna have a full bed of pillows. i’m too particular about how i like them tho

31. what position do you usually sleep in ?

— arm under the pillow , blanket up to my face , and all curled up underneath

32. how big is your house ?

— idk average

33. what do you typically have for breakfast ?

— don’t like breakfast

34. have you ever fired a gun ?

— i’m not allowed anywhere near guns or y’all are fucked

35. have you ever tried archery ?

— no but i really fucking want to

36. favourite clean word ?

— not sure what that means but sprinkle

37. favourite swear word ?

— єбать but generally all the ukrainian ones

38. what’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep ?

— idk i don’t count , probably like 4-5 days

39. do you have any scars ?

— yes on my knee

40. have you ever had a secret admirer ?

— does anyone asides from movies

41. are you a good liar ?

— yes i’d like to think so

42. are you a good judge of character ?

— i am good at judging people idk what u want

43. can you do any other accents besides your own ?

— idk i can do british and american i think

44. do you have a strong accent ?

— not in my day to day speech , only if i relax the muscles in my face

45. what is your favourite accent ?

— any vile accent , like scottich or cockney . very neat

46. what is your personality type ?

— my mbti is stfu (istj)

47. what is your most expensive piece of clothing ?

— if shoes count probably like 250€ ? not a fan of expensive clothes tho

48. can you curl your tongue ?

— unfortunately no

49. are you an innie or an outtie ?

— ok i think i understood the question wrong the first time. an innie

50. left or right handed ?

— right

51. are you scared of spiders ?

— not really

52. favourite food ?

— chips (french fries) i guess

53. favourite foreign food ?

— noodles ??

54. are you a clean or a messy person ?

— a messy organized perfectionist . don’t ask

55. most used phrase ?

— any your mum joke

56. most used word ?

— fucking

57. how long does it take for you to get ready ?

— min 20 minutes , max an hour

58. do you have much of an ego ?

— too much , some would say

59. do you suck or bite lollipops

— bite always

60. do you talk to yourself ?

— all the time but not out loud

61. do you sing to yourself ?

— sometimes i guess

62. are you a good singer ?

— no but also no idea

63. biggest fear ?

— unpredictability

64. are you a gossip ?

— yes.

65. best dramatic movie you’ve ever seen ?

— idk i don’t really watch that

66. do you like short or long hair ?

— on me medium , on other people idc

67. can you name of 50 states of america ?

— america doesn’t exist

68. favourite school subject ?

— english cause it’s easy , computer science and algebra are ok

69. extrovert or introvert ?

— pervert

70. have you ever been scuba diving ?

— no

71. what makes you nervous ?

— life

72. are you scared of the dark

— no but i can’t see so what am i supposed to do

73. do you correct people when they make mistakes ?

— yes

74. are you ticklish ?

— yes but don’t tell anyone that’s not very nonchalant of me

75. have you ever started a rumour ?

— no i don’t think

76. have you ever been in a position of authority ?

— yes

77. have you ever drank underage ?

— yes

78. have you ever done drugs ?

— no

79. who was your first ever crush ?

— zendaya

80. how many piercings do you have

— three on each ear

81. can you roll your R’s ?

— what does that even mean ………. ok i looked it up i think that’s what we do in my language ??

82. how fast can you type ?

— type fast and incorrect

83. how fast can you run ?

— how do i ever measure that shit what

84. what colour is your hair ?

— dark brown

85. what colour are your eyes ?

— dark brown

86. what are you allergic to ?

— no food allergues but i get hay fever all the time

87. do you keep a journal ?

— fuck no

88. what do your parents do ?

— dad’s like a head of economic department across different companies ?? mum is a stay at home mum

89. do you like your age ?

— what

90. what makes you angry ?

— everything pmo

91. do you like your own name ?

— yes

92. have you already thought of baby names , if so what are they ?

— no i haven’t

93. do you want a boy or a girl for a child ?

— said before i don’t really want children , but hypothetically idc

94. what are your strengths ?

— everything

95. what are your weaknesses ?

— scared of any change

96. how did you get your name ?

— parents just liked the name , they don’t know how either

97. were your ancestors royalty ?

— no pretty sure not

98. do you have any scars ?

— yes on my knee

99. colour of your bedspread ?

— navy blue

100. colour of your room ?

— white

[where-is-vivian]

Can I request Rosekiller Stalker Evan falling in love with Businessman Barty

oh damn that's a fire prompt. I might need to do a whole one shot... also I think I might know who you are :) but thank you anon for this very good suggestion.

ROSEKILLER. STALKER EVAN, BUSINESSMAN BARTY. 2,5K words. UNRELIABLE NARRATOR. RATED MATURE?

He was always the last one to leave the building.

Evan had been sitting outside, under the heavy pouring rain, for the past three hours. With his black rain coat, he looked almost invisible in the night. The city lights were lighting the street, and reflecting their white and yellow lights in the poodles of water on the floor. Once in a while, one of the many people who were walking by were shooting him weird glances, but too many people were walking by him to care anyway. Most of them were probably wondering why a young boy like him was staying outside with this weather.

But he was ready to stay outside all night, if it meant having a chance to see him when he would exit the building to go back to his apartment, 3 on *** Street, apartment 65, 5tth floor. Barty was the head of the company, and yet, he was always leaving before his employees. Somehow, Evan hadn’t managed to get what sort of company it was exactly.

Several times, he had found himself reading things on the company’s website that were odd, and when he had compared the data of year-end financial reports, he hadn’t been able to connect the numbers. And yet Evan was very good at math. Officially, the company was helping large fortunes to manage their funds.

A rain drop ran down his forehead, making him blink. Suddenly the last light of the building, the one that had been left in Barty’s office, turned off. Evan blinked a second time. The building had big windows, glass covering the entire surface of it, allowing anyone from outside to see inside.

Evan had seen many things when watching Barty’s office, from this very spot he hadn’t moved from since he started observing Barty from afar. He had seen him sleep on his desk. He had seen him look outside, sometimes look down to him, unsuspecting. He had seen him fuck. Several times, Evan had witnessed Barty getting fucked against the window of his office — he had concluded he had a voyeurism kink, or something like that.

Every single time it had happened, Evan had wished it was him who was fucking Barty against the window, for everyone to see. He would have made him his. He had hated these moment as much as he had enjoyed it; seeing his man getting touched by other people had been a hard sight, but he hadn’t been able to not get hard. And he hadn’t been able to stop himself to think about it again and again and again every time he had been alone again.

He had gotten rid of those people anyway. So none of them would ever touch his Barty ever again.

Just thinking about it, the satisfaction it had been to kill those nasty men, barely vessels for a soul, couldn’t be qualified of men truly, Evan smiled. He would kill as many as needed, until he would be the only one for him.

That night, Barty didn’t even glance in his direction, as usual, and Evan stood up from the bench he had been sitting on for hours to follow him to his car. Sitting on this bench was hurting like crazy and he was probably leaving a mark on it with how regularly he was sitting there, but it was always worth it when he got to see Barty, in his grey suit, hair wet and slicked back — he was always lazily passing a hand through it, unaware of how crazy it drove Evan —, jaw clenched and walking with decided steps to his black car.

Barty wasn’t even minding the rain. Neither was Evan. The latter followed to the parking, and then he simply hid behind a cement column, watching him get inside his car, like he did every day.

(weeks later...)

The drawstrings on the hood of his black sweatshirt were bouncing on his chest as he walked, taking care to not walk too fast. Barty was walking in front of him, a few steps ahead, his back turned to him.

He was vulnerable. Evan knew exactly when Barty was vulnerable. He had been observing him for months now. Several times, yes, he had thought about grabbing him, and bringing him back to his own apartment — that had nothing to do with Barty’s, by the way. Evan’s place was always more or less messy, and as he never opened the windows, a musty smell was always floating in the air. He was leaving finished cups of instant noodles around, and he was never changing his sheets, postponing laundry all the time. But for Barty, he’d make an effort. He’d clean a bit. Change the sheets. Buy something else than cup noodles.

He had thought about it several times; Evan was taller than Barty, so it wouldn’t be too hard, and he didn’t seem to have any family, or any relatives close to him that could get worried for him. Oh, of course, he was the head of his company, and he spent most of his time there, but would people really make a big deal out of it? Evan had figured out his company’s business was some sort of shell company, so they wouldn’t claim too loudly that they had issues, or else press would get their nose in their dirty clothes. Maybe they’d send people, their own people, the mafia perhaps.

But Evan knew that he was better than them. He knew everything about them. He would beat them at their game, without a single doubt. He knew the emplacement and the operating hours of every single camera in the area; he knew the timetables of half of their staff. He had estimated what sort of budget they could have left undeclared that they could potentially use to search for their CEO, though this last one, it was only a personal estimation. He knew the number plates of all of their vehicles; Evan had always been good with numbers and memorising them in specific orders. He knew exactly where they wouldn’t be able to find them. So even if they tried to find Barty by themselves, it wouldn’t stop Evan.

No, really, the only reason Evan hadn’t locked Barty in his two-room apartment yet, was that he liked the chase too much. He wanted it to last. As long as possible. And he liked the thrill of knowing that Barty could slip through his fingers at any time… though he knew more about Barty than the latter knew himself. If Barty decided to disappear now, it would have to be the most sudden and organised thing he had ever done in his entire life.

He liked seeing Barty in his field, in his environment, looking hot and clueless, so far and yet so close to him. Evan was into that. He craved him more than anything; but he was taking a sick satisfaction in seeing him unaware of him lurking in his shadow, calculating every next move he would do. He was the only focus in Evan’s life; to Evan’s complete satisfaction.

People dodged Evan, who was only looking at Barty, piercing a hole in his back with his eyes, with how heavily he was staring. Barty could probably feel his gaze, at this point.

Slowly, the streets Barty was walking through, was passing by to get to his unknown destination, were getting less and less crowded, until he walked in a rather large dead end, only lit by one big tired neon light hanging on the crusty wall. It was blinking, and since the dead end was rather long and large, almost as large as the main street, Evan walked in, taking the risk to have to face Barty for following all this time.

Barty stopped. So did Evan, his steps sounding annoyingly too loud against the ground. Barty did not turn around; maybe he hadn’t heard him yet. Was it now? Was it now that Evan was taking his chance? Bringing him to his apartment? They were too far away. It was better if Evan ran away quickly before Barty could see his face.

He didn’t get to do this.

“Crouch, we have the money. Do you—” The voice stopped. A hand suddenly passed in front of Evan’s eyes, and an arm constricted his throat. The hand ended on his mouth, stopping him from screaming or saying any word. Quickly he was fully immobilised. Oh, maybe it was now. Not the now he had meant when he walked in this dead end a few seconds ago, but still. Maybe it was now the end, maybe they were going to get rid of him.

Money? An arm around his throat, holding him in place? Nobody safe was doing that on a first meeting. He was maybe going to get killed. In front of Barty. Even when he tried to grab the arm, Evan found himself completely helpless, unable to get himself out of the grip. He hadn’t even seen that person arrive. He didn’t know who it was, but they were strong. He was getting weaker as the grip was getting stronger, and he was feeling his limbs go numb.

What kind of meeting was this?

Barty slowly turned around, hands in his pockets, shoulders relaxed, and he looked at Evan for a long time before speaking, finally.

“Let go of him.”

Nobody moved. Evan’s chest raised slowly, up and down, as he refused to look away from Barty. We was a true sight, as always. Evan wouldn’t have minded dying here, but he didn’t die that day.

“Who is he?” The man behind Evan, in his back, said. “Do you know him?”

Evan glanced at Barty defiantly.

“You wouldn’t want someone to die tonight, would you? This exchange isn’t supposed to be a blood bath,” Barty shrugged, a smirk at the corner of his lips, rolling his eyes playfully.

This made the man behind Evan consider it quietly for a few seconds, before letting go of Evan, suddenly releasing him, which lead to Evan fall on the floor, blood slowly coming back to his legs and arms. He coughed, feeling pathetic.

“Good,” Barty lowly said.

Evan looked up. Barty was looking down at him, still with his little smirk. Then he took a sort of USB key from his pocket, and he added:

“You said you have the money?”

From behind him, Evan heard some clicking noises. He was too confused to consider everything around him; at this exact moment, he just wondered how he could have not predicted this, and how he hadn’t had a single clue about anything that was happening around him.

At some point Barty was handed a case, and he handed the key in return.

He nodded slightly. “Good. You can go now.”

“What are you going to do with this man?”

“I’m going to deal with him,” Barty replied, looking back down at Evan who was still catching his breath on the floor — the man’s grip was no joke —, a crooked smile on his lips. “Don’t worry about him,” He added, looking back up.

The men behind Evan left. After a minute, Barty crouched down to Evan’s level. Evan was still unable to speak, as if his vocal cords had been irremediably crushed.

“You thought I didn’t see you follow me there?” He said, the first words he ever addressed to him.

Evan opened his mouth, but no sound came out of it. He decided to give up on words, and instead he defiantly shrugged at him. It made Barty’s downward smile grow bigger.

“Thought I didn’t see you all this time?”

Evan wondered what he meant. He couldn’t think straight; it was the first time he was seeing him from this close. He was beautiful. He was leaning in Evan’s personal space as if it was natural.

Mechanically, Evan shook his head, though he didn’t even remember the question.

Barty reached for his face, patting his head, running his fingers through Evan’s locks. “Your hair was messy,” He said, sliding his finger to his jawline, tracing it, before lifting his chin. A chill ran down Evan’s spine. He was hypnotised, like he had never been hypnotised before. “I hate when they’re too brutal,” He concluded, as if it was an absolutely normal conclusion to come to. “Come here,” He said, as he stood up, holding out his hand to him.

Evan took his hand, and stood up. He felt dizzy for a second, before regaining his full composure.

He was still holding Barty’s hand, when he pushed him against the nearest wall, with the intention to make him pass out, to give himself some time to run away. He was upset. He had missed his chance; he felt like months of following him had just been thrown away. Would he be able to stay away from him? His one and only obsession? Now, everything was ruined.

Barty’s back hit the wall brutally, and he did not even wince. He smirked. Swiftly, as if he was doing this every day, he somehow got his hands out of Evan’s grip, and quickly grabbed drawstrings on the hood of his sweatshirt, to wrap them around Evan’s neck. He expertly tightened the drawstrings, making Evan strangled for the second time in very little time.

Evan heard a smirk in Barty’s voice, though he couldn’t fully see his face anymore because his hood was falling in front of his eyes. “Easy, easy, easy. Easy there,” He almost chuckled. “Do you really want to die tonight, or what?”

Sighing, Evan stopped resisting, and brought his hands, clumsily, panicked, to his throat, trying to loosen the drawstrings around his neck. Barty released him, before pushing him away a little.

Evan tried to say something; his voice, hoarse, came out of his throat like a croak. He coughed a bit again.

“I don’t want to die tonight,” He ended up saying, his mind blank. His brain was probably not getting enough blood, which lead to the most out of pocket answers; he would never have answered that if he had had his full capacity.

Barty smiled more. “Good,” And then, he held out his hand, as Evan was still holding his throat.

Evan looked up. “What?” He hoarsely replied.

“Come here.”

Hesitantly, Evan took his hand, his other hand still on his throat.

“Don’t be so shy,” Barty smirked as soon as they were holding hands. “Aren’t you my biggest fan? No need to get nervous. I know you weren’t when you kept watching me for months, or if you had felt any shame at any point, you would have stopped. Right, you would have?”

Evan almost blushed. “I didn’t feel any shame.”

They intensely stared at each other; Barty was still smirking; Evan hadn’t imagined him to be smiling so much. And not even in his wildest dreams he was imagining him smile at him like that.

Barty started walking again.

“Where are we going?” Evan asked blandly.

“To my place.”

THE END.

[unp0pularl0nerkid]

In Another Dimension Pt. 2

Link to Pt. 1

Unspoken truths..but this should be a little better! Thanks for reading!

Not only you but Satoru as well had js been the dealt the most fatal blow. What’s next?

A week later, you had received an email welcoming you to jujutsu college and letting you know that you will be staying off campus in the Gojo apartment suites. They’d sent you a list of the freshman courses you would be taking (the basic essentials) and asked what day would be good for a school tour. Then you got another email, which contained your flight information for a first class ticket to Japan, that leaves at the end of the week. Weird, because I didn’t by anything, you thought. By the end of the week, you had uprooted your life (not that you had much to begin with), grabbed your letter, gift, and was on the first plane away from that hellhole.

Once you left the airport, an older man with a very strict expression, help up a sign with your name on it. You rushed over, “Hi! Thank you..but I don’t remember paying for this.” You smiled sheepishly. “You didn’t. Mr.Gojo asked me to receive you and take you to the dojo apartment suite. I’ll get your bags, watch your step.” He said opening the door for you with such a bored tone. And just like that you were off. But who is gojo? And why does he know so much about you? You wondered.

“Hm, so you’re Sugurus little sister huh?” The unknown man said towering over you. “No, Im his dog.” You deadpanned. “Who the hell are you and why’d you do all of this?” You said glaring at the man. “Im Satoru gojo. I wa- am Sugurus best friend. Like sweets?” He smiled pulling out a handful of candy and moving his hand towards you, taking a handful in his mouth himself. Satoru? You thought…eyes wide as you take in this information. “Thanks” you mumbled taking the blue raspberry and lime flavored treat. “So, Im basically your babysitter so you better listen to everything I say.” He teased with a mischievous glint in his eyes as he stepped forward. Taking an even bigger step back, “So where’s my room?” You said unfazed, beginning to walk to the elevator. Appalled by how easily you’d ignored him (though he quickly recovers), he steps into the elevator. “Top floor. You’re actually right across from little old me” He said, his head tilting to see your expression. Once again, unfazed you just look at the view from outside, dissociating from the world.

��Alright, here’s your keys. I have a spare so don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” He winks. “Let me know if you need anything, here’s my number” He says, taking your phone and inputing it yourself. Handsy much, you thought. “Erm- thanks I guess, gojo.” “Of course” He said making a saluting motion above his obiovusly rich glasses. At that moment you noticed the bracelet he was wearing. It was all black beta fish with icy blue eyes, dangling from the center. Without realizing it, you grabbed his wrist and held it up, to make sure you weren’t hallucinating. “Where did you get this?” You ask, curiously. “From a friend.” His voice clipped with a response, almost automatic. “Also, if you wanted to touch me all you had to do was ask” He grins. You immediately let his hand go, and walk towards your room. “Okay, you can let yourself out.” You called out as you shut your room door. “You’re no fun.” He yells, slightly smiling. Just like Sugu, he thinks to himself sadly. “Why’d he have, the bracelet that looks almost like mine, Sugu?” You whispered holding up your wrist letting your all white bracelet with a black beta fish with white eyes stare back at you. Allowing sleep to over take you.

The next day, you woke up with a shadow towering over your bed. You just blinked. “What gojo? And do you always break into peoples home, pervert” You spoke groggily. “Well hello to you too, sunshine.” He said leaning back with a slight grin. “A little fishy told me that you were going on a Jujutsu college tour today. So I thought, being the amazing, handsome, and considerate person that I am, that I would offer to give you a ride.” He spoke, shrugging. “But…if you’d rather walk or try to figure out Japanese public transportation yourself then…” He trailed. With a huge huff, you leaned up onto the banister. “Thanks. I’ll be ready in a second.” You said stepping out of bed and heading to the bathroom. After you got yourself together, you head into the kitchen to see gojo eating sweets again. “Don’t you ever get cavities? Sugar rots your brain. Considering there’s any left.” You scolded, declingin his offer. “Im just too sweet to handle, this sugar has nothing on the real treat, me.” He spoke smiling and tilting his head.

Gojo had dropped you off right in front of the office. “Have fun sunshine” He spoke cheerily before driving off. With a nervous sigh, you walked into the front. “Hi what can I do for you today?” The young lady in the front office spoke. “Hi my name is (your name) and I signed up for a campus tour today?” You said softly. “Of course, Mr.Yaga will be coming shortly.” She spoke before nicely dismissing you. “Alright Kid, from what I hear you’re originally from Europe? Im going to try to keep this as short and simple as possible.” He said and begin leading you throughout the school. From the cafeteria, to the library, to classrooms, to the gym, to the theater room. The options were endless. By the end of the tour, you were slighting panting and half exhausted just trying to think about getting around during the first day. “Well, there’s our illustrious school. See ya when school starts.” He said before walking to the door. Then he stopped, turned around softly before saying, “And im sorry about what happened with Suguru. He was a good kid, even if he was caught up in his head sometimes”. Oh. So he knew sugu too. You thought before looking in the sky. Oh suguru, what dimension are you in right now?

You were distracted by which way to go, when you bumped into a wall. Well not a wall, a man. A very well sculpted, man with blonde hair. “Oh, Im so sorry. I wasn’t paying any attention.” You spoke apologetically. “It’s fine, I apologize as well. Did you need help getting somewhere?” He asked gruffly. “Well…I don’t know where to go and I was trying to sight see but I think im just lost” You smiled, looking at the concrete. “I have a some time” He said looking down at his watch. “I can take you to a coffee shop, not far from here. It also has some good sights to see on the way” He said. “Perfect!” You grinned.

New stranger? Who could that be (wink wink) also the mention of the bracelet aww. And the connection between you and sugu is too cute!! I’m trying to make these shorter because I deliberately want them to end on specific parts.. but do yall like long parts or short parts?

Aesthetics: ——>

P.S This is how i imagine the bracelet to look except the fish is obviously more detailed.

[icy-book]

Identity is weird because like, I'm British. I live in the UK, have done all my life, same with my parents. I am completely immersed in British culture, so much so that there are so many things that are normal in Britain that I have no idea are unheard of in other countries, even ones that are considered to be culturally similar (like the US). Especially on Tumblr, surrounded by mostly American mutuals, I'm the British mutual who says mum and crisps and lives in a block of flats and eats Sunday roasts and fish n chips and Gregg's sausage rolls

But, heritage wise, I'm as much South African as I am English.

Yet that almost never comes through. I'm almost completely detached from South African culture, hell I haven't been there since I was merely months old.

When I was a kid, my mum sat me down in front of the TV, to watch the funeral of a man I didn't know. She told me he was a very important man, and he was very important to our family and our history especially. That without him, we probably wouldn't be here today.

I watched Nelson Mandela's funeral. A decade or so later, I didn't really bother watching the Queen's.

It was later, slowly over the course of my life, that I'd realise why Nelson Mandela was so important to our family, what it meant that my grandma had grown up as a person of colour in Apartheid South Africa.

She taught me how to make pumpkin fritters, and I've always called tangerines nartjies because that's what my mum called them because that's what her mum called them because she's South African and that's what everyone called them. I've met more of my South African family than I have my British one, and sometimes they teach me small phrases of Afrikaans that I don't remember later, even though I want to. My dad makes us boerewors, and we drink South African cream soda with it, which is completely different to English cream soda but tastes way better imo. I beg him to buy us some more biltong when he goes to the shops

At the same time, I don't know the first thing about South African culture. Not really. My mum is half South African, and not at all English, but she's definitely British. We've both lived here all our lives

I've never known how to answer ethnicity forms. I feel like I'm expected to put "White British", because that's what most people see when they look at me. Putting down any kind of mixed or other background feels like I'm lying, in a way. Trying to claim something that isn't mine. I read stories about other people's disconnects with their parents' and grandparents' cultures, and feel like I'm not allowed to relate because I'm White, or at least seen as such, and they're not, and it's not for me. But putting just "White British" feels like I'm ignoring so many important things, it feels just as much like lying. Maybe even more so

I'm as much South African as I am English. It's just weird to conceptualise

[misc-obeyme]

Teapot- barbatos

Hello there!

Did I put teapot on the prompt list in the hopes that someone would request Barbatos for it? Nooooo don't be silly! (I absolutely did.)

I took some artistic liberties with Barbatos's room for this one, mostly because all we ever see is the weird stairs. I imagine he has to have a different corner of the room with an actual bed and stuff.

Thanks for the request!

GN!MC x Barbatos with prompt Teapot

Warnings: none!

You were in the human world when you saw it - the perfect teapot. It was an antique made of porcelain. The teapot was mostly black, but it had a delicate pattern of small blossoms in shades of blue and teal. The minute you saw it, you knew you had to get it for Barbatos.

When you brought it to him, he accepted your gift graciously. You took in his gentle smile and light blush as he held up the teapot to look at it more closely. You were certain that he truly appreciated that you had chosen this particular item for him.

After that day, you had tea many times at the castle. Most of the time, it was with one or more of the others. Every time you came to the table, you noticed what teapot was sitting on it. It was never the one you had given to Barbatos that day. You hoped it wasn't because the teapot was unusable for some reason. You had checked and it seemed to be free of cracks, but perhaps you had missed something.

Barbatos had quite the collection of teapots and teacups at the castle, so nearly every time you were there, a different one was being used. Still, you saw that some were repeats that were used more frequently. Now that you were paying attention, you also noticed that he had different sizes, too. He always chose larger ones when more people were in attendance.

But you never saw him use your gift. You didn't want to ask him about it, especially in front of everyone else, so you didn't say anything.

Until the next time you had tea with Barbatos on your own. It had been months since you had given him that teapot, but your schedules just hadn't aligned to allow for you to spend time alone together until now.

He brought a tray of tea to the table in the garden, setting it down in front of you. You noticed the teapot instantly, a simple white ceramic one with matching cups.

Barbatos sat across from you and poured a cup of tea for you both. You took the cup from him as he handed it over and sipped at the delicious liquid before setting it down.

You reached your hand out, resting your fingertips lightly on the teapot. Barbatos watched you, eyes following your movements.

You looked up. "Do you ever use that teapot I gave you?"

Barbatos smiled, a hint of teasing in his eyes. "Are you disappointed that you've never seen me use it?"

You frowned. Of course he already knew how you felt. And how exactly were you supposed to answer a question like that? You couldn't just say yes. You decided not to respond at all, only waiting.

Barbatos put down his teacup and stood. He came to your side and took your hands. "Allow me to show you."

You rose from the table and Barbatos created a portal, pulling you through it with him. You found yourself in his bedroom, the odd stairs and doors all around you.

On the other side of his bed there was a large window with a spacious sill. Sitting in the middle of it was the teapot in question. On one end of the window sill, you saw an electric kettle and various tea making items.

You looked at Barbatos questioningly.

He smiled at you. "I must admit that I am selfish when it comes to your gift. I will only use it when I am making tea for myself, thus ensuring that it is safe. I have lost many a teapot while serving tea to others. When it is not in use, it sits here where I may see it every day."

Your heart swelled and you felt the heat of the blush that rose in your cheeks. You didn't know what you had been expecting, but it wasn't this.

Barbatos took your hands and pulled you into his embrace. "Forgive me if I made you think that I did not appreciate your gift. The truth is that I cherish it, just as I cherish you."

Your heart raced as you pressed your face into Barbatos's neck, allowing yourself to bask in the feeling of being cherished, the feeling of being held in his arms.

the original prompt list

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[possibilistfanfiction]

Delicate

it's been a weird day already.

but not, like, bad: the sky is clear and it's not windy, which is such a welcome break from the weeks and weeks of rain you kind of want to dance down the sidewalk or something (you don't, but only because you have on this cool new pair of pants you thrifted last week and one over-exuberant roll through a puddle and they'd be wet for the day); there wasn't a long line at camila's coffee shop, so you were early to work; none of your appointments, even, have been late. good-weird sometimes feels way more unsettling than bad-weird, though, or at least that's what you've told your therapist who nodded — trauma responses, this and that, or so she says.

your first two clients are easy — small, simple stuff, which is always nice to start off with. chanel is finishing her last session on a wicked cool back piece with a chill client, and it's all pretty vibey until you're outside on the little front patio of the studio eating the pizza you'd grabbed from down the street for a late lunch, casually people watching. it all happens so fast: you're taking a bite and then, bam, there’s someone on a bike skidding out of control and then falling with a thump, tangled up in the metal frame and pedals spinning.

'shit,' you say, even though the person is already struggling their way out from under the bike — a good sign, overall. but still, you put your pizza down on the table chanel insisted you buy and wheel down the ramp until you're on the sidewalk, close enough to be able to ask, 'are you okay?'

the person — a very, very hot person, in carhartt overalls, a pristine white t-shirt, and blundstones — groans but then nods, stands up fully from the street and hefts the bike back upright by the handlebars. 'yes. i'll be fine. a minor fall.'

there's an embarrassed blush rising behind freckles and, 'you're bleeding.' it's roadrash, nothing serious, along an elbow, both palms, but still — 'my shop is right here.' you point behind you. 'let me patch you up, we have all the sterile stuff and everything.'

'i — okay.'

you smile, then smile even bigger when this very hot bike-falling blushing stranger takes her helmet off and her short hair — slightly sweaty — is tousled, a little messy on the top, even messier after she tries to brush it back with her fingers. 'sweet.' you offer your hand, even though she's dragging her bike alongside her. 'i'm ava.'

she leans the bike against her hip, grants you a small smile, and meets your eyes, even though her blush gets worse. 'beatrice.'

her hand is calloused and warm and she locks her bike against your railing, then follows you up the ramp.

'so you're who moved in,' she says, not unkindly, and you nod. it's a beautiful studio — you'll claim it was 50/50 design choices all day long, but it really was mostly chanel who chose the perfect shelving, the easy colors, the furniture that was simple and comfortable and cool as fucking hell, all at once. 'me and chanel, the other artist and owner,' you say. chanel's gun is very quietly buzzing behind the partition that separates her station from the front desk, and you lead beatrice back to your station.

the scrape along her elbow — delicate, one of the most difficult places to tattoo properly, all small, sharp bones and live-wire nerves — isn't deep or particularly dirty, so you clean it quickly and without too much discomfort, if her comfortable quiet and measured breathing is anything to go by.

'you're an expert on this, i suppose,' she says, as you get out your second skin once everything is clean and dry.

you laugh. 'tattoos aren't too dissimilar.' you allow yourself to look — after a lot of restraint, thank you very much — at her nearly-finished sleeve: fine lines and tender greyscale of flowers and plants, a few bugs, woven together. there's space on the underside of her wrist, still, a little unexpected. 'this is beautiful.'

beatrice smiles softly, a little sad. 'thank you.'

'no, like, genuinely.' you take your gloves off once the second skin is on perfectly and roll back in your chair to see it a little clearer. 'it really is.'

that blush again. 'i'm a gardener,' beatrice says, as if that explains everything. you have a few silly tattoos along your thighs — some are from you practicing along your own skin, a perk of not feeling anything below your waist — and your favorite along the top of your right hand. it's the first chanel did for you, the start of how you became friends — and business partners, eventually — and it's not hard, really, to remember the control you felt when you got to choose to make your body in your own image, when you had someone you trusted to help.

'that's awesome.'

she nods, once, like it's a finite truth. 'along with my sister, i run the florist shop on the other side of camila's. we farm all of our own flowers, only local pollinators.'

'permaculture,' you say, 'sick.'

it gets a laugh out of her — fucking delightful, and, whew, you want to keep making that happen — 'it is.' she stands, looking almost — dare you say it — regretful. 'unfortunately, i do have to get back to said shop for the afternoon. but maybe i can buy you a coffee?'

'camila gives me my coffee for free.'

she blanches and it takes a few seconds before you reach out and pat her hand with a laugh. 'i'm sorry, i was just messing with you. i'd love to get coffee with you.'

'yeah?'

'dude, are you kidding? i want to know all about your plants.'

she's got the most proper accent of all time, and you're kind of wishing for her to say something like, and i, your art, but instead she just nods, a little tongue-tied, you think, which is endearing in its own way too. 'thank you again, ava.'

'anytime.' you pause. 'well, not the exact same circumstances. don't need you flinging yourself off of your bike just to say hi to me again —'

'i didn't fall because of you —'

'i know i'm, like, cool and stunning, but you really should be more careful.'

she rolls her eyes, but there's still a smile on her face. you know you're, as chanel puts it, dangerously charming, so you'll take it.

you watch her walk down the ramp and unlock her bike, then walk it two doors down to the florist that always had swathes of wildflowers in the windows. you've only been here a few weeks, and you'd been very busy setting everything up and getting your clients in asap, but you'd planned to check it out eventually. now, you have even more of a reason to.

and, like, maybe it's a little gay, whatever, but you transfer out of your chair to sit more comfortably at your station while you wait for your next client and start to sketch some wildflowers and their pollinators. bees, your favorites, and maybe it doesn't mean anything or maybe it means something. you don't really believe in everything but you do think that people can be kind and that the earth itself is overwhelmingly good. that's enough, most days, really.

chanel finishes with her client and it's a good-good-weird day because she offers to order dinner without you even having to whine. you fall asleep later at home thinking abt how warm beatrice's skin had been, how it had been easy to make sure she would heal well, all the flowers there, blooming; her freckles and her blush. maybe, if you're lucky, she's thought of you too.

[redhoodinternaldialectical]

30 for the writing ask?

30: describe a fic that almost happened, but then didn't.

Whilst away from my computer and therefore all my WIPs, I started a little one shot titled "Who the Hill?" and actually the premise is easier to explain by just giving you what I wrote for the fic before I abandoned it lol!

The bass thud of the club rattles Jason's sternum and thrums through his organs pleasantly as he surveys the rest of the room from his spot in the corner. He's not really looking for anything in particular, just too in the habit of counting exits and tracking glasses to stop even when he's just here to be around other people having fun.

Then he sees Tim - or well maybe that isn't Tim - or no that is absolutely, definitely Tim - but probably Tim's not the right name for the spike and chain adorned person leaned against the bar with the dark, expressive makeup, the short, black skirt, and the high heel boots.

Then he's caught staring and (Not?) Tim's eyes go wide in what looks like fear and ah shit, there's no way he she was ready to come out to him, but hey, he can be cool, he can roll with this and make sure she knows he's not gonna be a prick about it.

Tim watches Jason approach with absolute dread, because he never, EVER wanted to have to explain the whole 'hi, I'm bi and I love the way my ass looks in a mini-skirt' thing to the most depressingly unavailable straight guy he's ever met. He braces for simply the most awkward 'so is this a sex thing?' conversation ever held between two vigilantes.

Instead though, Jason surprises him, "Sorry for putting you on the spot like this, but can I ask for your name?"

Tim blinks and realizes that between the makeup and the breast forms there's a very good chance Jason has no idea who he is! In fact he probably only intended to chat up some cute goth girl, and if he can manage to play along right he might get out of this with his secret intact!

He pitches his voice up a bit and hopes to god that feminine cadence and the loud music carries him, "Carolina, but you can call me Carol if you like."

"Cool! I dig the spikes by the way," Jason smiles like Carolina's name is some beautiful treasure he's been allowed to glimpse and the dread comes right back up as Tim realizes that he's somehow going to have to find it in himself to turn Jason down.

He ought to do it right now. He ought to tell Jason he's an awfully polite guy but she's already late to go home and dropped her phone in the harbor and is currently walking out the door-

[That paragraph's phrasing was inspired by this song hehehe]

But right now Tim is a weak, weak man, who chooses to pluck at Jason's jacket flirtily, "Thanks, I dig the leather and the white streak! You dye it like that?"

Jason gives him the most adorable deer-in-headlights expression back, "Uh, it's um, it's actually a cold brand? You can kinda see the scar around it if you look close."

"Wait like, liquid nitrogen and metal- deliberately?"

"I mean I dyed it the once, but then uh..." He trails awkwardly with a shrug, "I like it. Nice not to have to do anything more to keep it there. Kinda annoying it doesn't keep any other colors, but, ya'know." Another awkward shrug.

"Huh," He'd always assumed Jason just came back with it, but it being an injury instead actually makes a lot of sense? Was it really deliberate though or was he just saying that? "That's pretty fuckin hardcore."

Jason smiles again, feeling warm at all the compliments, and then internally panics.

Tim Carol is flirting with him probably?! That was not- did he say something weird? How did he come off like... And even if he did how the fuck is he supposed to handle this??

She's a girl, and he's very gay.

It feels sort of awful and cruel to think that he might fall out of love with her just because she changed a few words and her shape. Are human hearts really so fickle that the same person in a different cloth cannot be loved the same way?

At the same time though, Jason has historically been a solid six on the kinsey scale and he's sadly gotta admit the boobs are really not doing it for him. But maybe the above the belt feelings will stay? Is that how this works?? Or maybe he can just kinda... Coach himself through moving to a kinsey five???

He nervously fidgets with his hands and tries looking at her legs. He usually really likes Carol's legs and wants to do all kinds of things with them, and legs are things most people have regardless of gender... He attempts to force himself to focus on all the same features he usually likes, but it's just not the same with the heels and the skirt. The spark is gone.

This is so fucking stupid. He's stupid. This isn't how anything works and he should know it, and maybe he even does know it...

He just can't bring himself to give up on this, though. He's never had a crush reciprocate anything before, and now the world demands that he breaks both their hearts over basically nothing?!

He can't and he won't and he fucking refuses!

[Lots more awkward and not so awkward flirting flipping between their perspectives. Tim enjoying the power trip of turning Jason into a nervous mess just by being fem, thinking it's newly realized attraction that Jason can't normally feel towards him, and Jason panicking about whether or not he can be attracted to her at all. This goes on until they leave so Tim/Carol can catch his/her taxi]

Tim glances out at the road, and prepares to rip his own heart out by giving him a fake number, "Hey, um, I kinda ordered a taxi like before I even went out, so... text me?"

"Yeah sure, I've still got your number, and I'll see you back at the cave tomorrow anyways."

Tim, half turned away, goes rigid, "When the fuck did you figure out who I am?"

"What? Who the fuck else would I think you were?"

"A woman!"

"But like, you are a woman though??"

Tim stares at him, baffled, until the taxi driver leans on the horn and he decides to have this conversation on the way home. He grabs Jason by the wrist and hauls him into the car.

Jason hiss-whispers, "Wait are you in disguise right now? Did you just fucking use me for a case?!"

"No!" Tim hisses back while slamming the door shut behind him, "No, it's unfortunately infinitely more stupid and embarrassing for me!"

"Then...?" Jason gives him a confused gesture to spit it out already.

"I'm a crossdresser. My name's not any different. I'm not a woman. I'm sorry, I swear I didn't mean to lead you on, I just didn't know what the fuck to do when you came up to me asking for my fucking name."

And that's as far as I got before I abandoned it!

The problem I had with it and the reason I'm never gonna finish it is because there's not really a way to resolve the core tension/conflict that would be satisfactory to me. I need to emphasize here that I don't care about trying to find some kind of """"morally correct"""" way to end it, I just mean personally satisfying for me; any of the possible ways to end it would be morally fine, they just also all make me feel bad lmao

So like obviously the original resolution to the miscommunication was that Tim was a cis dude who just happened to be into dressing up in girly clothes and enjoying men's attention that way. That part on its own would be good, but it does mean that the moment of resolution from Jason's perspective comes out to being "Oh thank goodness you're not trans/not a woman/not a trans woman" and I don't feel great about that. Again, not a morals thing, it'd just leave a bad taste in my mouth.

My second idea was to have Tim realize he might be non-binary/a woman via Jason treating him like a woman and being so accepting of her. As a gay trans man who likes to cross dress in order to enjoy men's attention, this would give me bone dissolving levels of dysphoria!

There was also the problem of how to resolve Jason's sexuality.

As a gay man who spent many, many years of my life attempting to convince myself I was bisexual, any version of making Jason bisexual would give me bone dissolving levels of dysphoria! But like sexuality dysphoria instead of gender dysphoria. It would also eliminate an important source of narrative tension and character motivation.

The traditional version of keeping him gay would mean that Jason turns Carolina/Tim down altogether, which would break Jason's heart, and break Carolina's heart, and break my heart, and also turn the reveal into "it's a tragedy that you're trans/a woman/a trans woman". Infinite pain for zero gain!

I'd actually love to have Jason simply want to try being sexually intimate with an enby/woman Tim and have him decide he likes it even though he's still gay and still not attracted to Carolina/Tim at all. The experiences of sex having ace folks and people who have sex with people they aren't attracted to are really interesting to me and I'd love to explore that - if there was a bit more room to explore it right. This is a tiny one shot. I don't feel like I could properly convey that without putting in way more time and effort than I have to spare on this side project.

I MIGHT someday be convinced to finish this for a few different reasons, but for the forseeable future it won't be worked on. I have SO MANY PROJECTS that are better, more interesting, less awkward to handle, and already half published, like I got better things to do lol, so for now this is the one that got away.

In the meantime though: Please steal this!! If you find the premise interesting, especially if any of the versions that would give me bone dissolving dysphoria appeal to you, please take my words and write more onto them! I'd love to see some version of this finished someday, and I don't mind if someone (or several someones!) end up doing it instead of me, just lemme know if you do and throw a lil bit of credit my way and it's all good :3

[quidfree]

accidentally deleted this ask but for the anon asking what my gripes were with iwtv’s finale / this season:

look i love this show. ive never read the books* and i thoroughly enjoyed the one time i watched the movie mostly bc of tom cruise and kirsten dunst acting circles around bradd pitt. the show to me really elevates the material, it has phenomenal writing, the acting is obviously stellar, i think it does a great job at being that dark gothic romance that is both deeply tragic and fucked up and funny etc etc.

a key element of the adaptation is evidently that they have recontexualised the characters in ways that both add depth and nuance to them. when we meet him louis is a black gay man in a deeply racist and homophobic setting who hardens himself to survive and rise above as much as he can. claudia is a young black woman who has always faced societal violence and neglect because of this. armand’s whole arc as an exploited and fetishised child whose trauma has become his identity is also encased in colonial violence. i’m not from the communities they are so i can’t speak for everyone, but i think for the most part the show is pretty good at having these changes enrich the show and acknowledge what an impact this has on dynamics and the characters. s1 explicitly addresses how lestat handwaves away the racism louis experiences as something he can just overcome because he’s a vampire now, how lestat himself plays into racist imbalances of power in his patriarchal relationship in their home esp wrt claudia, how he goes to capture claudia on the train being portrayed to echo a slave-catcher, etc. s2 has the trial obviously set up like a lynching (claudia says so much herself), with lestat’s testimony framing the two black people he abused as the aggressors and himself as the victim, and even when lestat is genuinely apologetic and remorseful it’s because he’s allowed his tears and victimhood while louis and claudia are not. all this to say there is obviously lot of conscious thought that goes into the way the characters’ races feed into the show and the story and it oftentimes is very effective, as well as aware of audience perceptions of the characters and how the irl audience’s own biases might need addressing.

unfortunately for me there are two aspects of s2 that i feel are kind of outliers in this regard, and not in a way that makes sense/feels intentionally uncomfortable to me. 1) is madeline’s backstory, and 2) is the change of having armand actually have been plotting to murder both louis and claudia at the trial, and lestat have been the one to save louis.

1) to me is just really… weird. i feel like i know why they wrote her that way. it makes madeline a ~morally grey character~ by default so she fits in with the rest of the cast, and there is an element to the very real misogynistic vitriol and violence post-ww2 directed at french women even falsely accused of having slept with the invading nazi occupiers that feels very in line with the things the show likes to examine and point to as examples of plain old human barbarism and othering. but the way they present it in the show, unquestioned, not as a dubious survival tactic or a multi-faceted situation but an actual love story that madeline has no remorse for, is very off-putting to me. madeline is not louis and claudia who ignore the atrocities of the war because those are human affairs and they are no longer human but supernatural monsters. madeline is a normal person whose peers- jewish people, queer people (surely her own community), political dissidents of any kind- have been put down like dogs throughout the occupation, sent to prison camps at best and death camps at worst, and she never even has a line of dialogue addressing conflicting feelings about this? no one ever challenges her on it? the people painting nazi symbols on her shop are consistently framed as villainous? it just feels weird to me that claudia’s “weird white lady” has this saccharine romance with her, a black woman, without the show ever exploring any friction in that dynamic given madeline’s apparently uncomplicated nazi romance. madeline being a femme tondue is a great idea, but the execution leaves to be desired imo.

2) … oh boy. i feel like i’m wading into discourse here bc i’ve seen really confrontational takes on this, esp a lot of “responses to” people who didn’t like this change, where this is presented as those people being dumb babies who are blinded by their liking of armand and don’t Understand The Show. im sure there are those of which this is true (and ppl have explained better than me how antiblackness feeds into everyone jumping into ship wars and defense of louis’ abusive partners in general) but also it feels very reductive of some valid questions people have. people can argue the change is consistent with armand’s characterisation, which, sure, even though i feel like it feels a little flimsy / contradictory for armand to finally Choose The Coven and allow for them to execute louis but then go feed him blood and allow him to revenge-kill all of them immediately afterwards, etc. i don’t mind characters being More Evil on the Evil Vampire show.

my bigger question is why this change was made. bc my sense is that the change is less about armand than it is about lestat, and specifically setting the stage for the loustat reconciliation, and i do not love that. it’s one thing to make it so armand wanted to kill louis too, just for the extra drama of daniel’s reveal and scale of his betrayal, another push for louis to leave. it’s another to make it so lestat was the heroic captive who not only was forced to be there by armand as per but also bravely exerted the limits of his strength to save louis from execution and then nobly didn’t tell him about this. these are both monstrous vampires who have abused and betrayed louis in their own ways (armand has already orchestrated claudia’s death and kept louis in a purportedly protective mind prison for decades! that’s betrayal enough! you could even have armand originally want to kill louis too and then change his mind!), so why at this juncture choose to have lestat save louis in a move that was originally armand’s? just from the way the audience (fandom and casual watchers) is reacting it makes me wonder if the showrunners were just oblivious to how much this worsens people’s takes of armand (the brown man) being the “real villain” and lestat (the white man) being the redeemed self-sacrificing figure. i’m sure people will say this is placing too much weight on race blah blah blah but it was so jarring to me and the change in viewer attitudes so immediate that it left a really bad taste in my mouth.

inb4 the inevitable: i actually really liked the loustat reunion in the finale! i don’t hate loustat! i like all of the dynamics between all of the characters, albeit my favourite louis ship is louis x therapy (an obvious inference from my favourite character being daniel lmao). this is not a change that i hate because i’m a bitter lestat hater. i have no issue with armand doing bad things, episode 5 was my favourite episode! i just think this particular choice was weird, and felt kind of thoughtless in the service of speedrunning a lestat hero role in advance of his season.

i have other less tangential complaints but overall i think this is a great season of television. these are just two points that stood out to me as being handled with less grace than i expect of iwtv.

*i just started reading the first book today on the airplane so. we’ll see how that goes. book loustat is so funny compared to the show. book 1 louis hates his ass 😭