#off screen trans character

[daycordatthreepm]

not to be the guy that’s only talking about mizu5, but I think the impact of it is so interesting. obviously it’s going to have the impact of handling a trans character’s story really well —something that is so important as we continue to progress as a society— and I think it’s also a testament to how much these things can blow up. handling a queer character’s story well is going to make a really good impression among audiences (at least, the ones that are progressively becoming louder and louder in the grand scheme of things). I’ve seen this event bringing people into proseka too, which there’s something to be said there

it’s so interesting to me how much this event has spread outside of the immediate and related fandoms for project sekai (think enstars, bang!dream, etc.), onto completely random people’s social media feeds. the amount of tweets I’ve seen from random ass accounts talking about this is kind of fascinating

like this is just some guy. and I’m obsessed with it.

anyways. big game companies or tv studios. make more trans and queer characters that have care and understanding put into their storylines. it will pay off and age incredibly well and bring you more money

[recovering-vamp]

Pals <3

[achromic-red-dreams-doze-angrily]

Whyyyyy do people keep saying 911 was queerbaiting us. There's been a married lesbian couple literally since the first episode; Hen is a main character with complex characterization and development, and a fleshed-out relationship with her wife. Another character, a middle aged man, came out as gay while straight-married with children, after which he got divorced and got a boyfriend. The Lone Star spinoff has a main trans man character, along with a main gay couple who got married on screen! Queerbaiting requires a lack of explicitly canon queer characters!

Buck is incredibly important representation, particularly for bi people, and we shouldn't minimize that. But can we please not act like this was the very first instance of queer people ever on the show?*

*not to mention the racial dynamics of throwing seven (7! ALL SEVEN OF THEM!) queer characters of color under the rug for our Go Whiteboy Go moment

[giantkillerjack]

Your stance on the Dunmeshi queerbait stuff is a bit selfish. Wanting this one manga to go exactly the way you want is a dangerous path - the way you phrase it is so entitled, making it clear it's not about consuming media about lesbians, but making one specific work suit exactly what you want. So many yuri mangas are written by sapphic women. It's a shame your stance is how it is.

And bastardizing the term queerbaiting does no good, either. Neither does the japanese manga market. You should research more before making such hurtful posts.

Hope you have a great day anyway.

[Anon is referring to this post, I believe.]

I mean, one of us certainly IS acting very entitled and weird about the media they like, and it ain't me. Like, I think you just have associated this piece of media with your own identity in an unhealthy way that makes you react to criticism of it with intense defensiveness. You don't own Dungeon Meshi. You aren't Marcille. Dungeon Meshi is NOT a yuri manga; it's a beautiful manga with either sapphic queerbait or a woefully underdeveloped queer relationship at its center.

Maybe if you had an argument besides "it does no good" to criticize it, but you don't. So.

Smh, it's a "dangerous path" - I'm screenshotting that bc I know it'll make my wife laugh. Like, friendo, wanting a piece of media to be better isn't dangerous. But calling someone selfish and hurtful for criticizing media while offering no clarifications as to who I've hurt or how (any fellow sapphics bleeding out in here? Or is it just me with my bonkers-heavy period??)... it's overstepping a social boundary in a bizarre way.

Like, I'm sorry that I'm better at media analysis than you (not actually sorry - I am being petty! :D), but I actually have studied queerbaiting!! I am willing to bet I have done more research than you! (Are you from twitter? You have that vibe. - Again, pettiness.)

... and I spend every day with my wife (the best writer I know; I'm so honored to share stories with her), talking of nothing but our shared special interest all day - i.e. media analysis. (I honestly don't know what neurotypical couples talk about lol)

And I've done enough research to know that one of the side effects of queerbaiting is that fans are often in denial about it and then get REAL MAD when someone points it out. I was there for the Sherlock/Supernatural fandom. Shit was crazy. (Not saying Super-who-lock bc my man Russell Davies was like MAKE THOSE BOYS SMOOCH! 😎)

Also like, my apologies to Ryoko Kui - I really do love Dungeon Meshi - but like, I'm just better at writing and illustrating queer rep than she is. I make real gay protagonists who do gay shit and are gay, and I will never queerbait my audience. Womp womp.

Also, honestly, even if I turn out to be wrong about the queerbaiting by the end of the series, this message was still rude and entitled and weird. We have a lot of issues facing our queer community that endanger real people; someone calling a story queerbaiting mistakenly is not one of them.

[dragon-appreciator-fray]

Hello new followers~! I am about to depart for a little vacation with my partner, but I can share a quick writing sample of Ruinous Hearts. This is my writing debut and attempt at working my way through my newfound lesbian attraction and trans identity. (Edit: How could I forget stumbling into learning that plurality was a thing baked into a lot of the cast? Ruinous Hearts has that in spades too.)

WHISPER - The Eight Eyed Lesbian Insect/Arachnid Representative

RUIN - The Bisexual Scar Covered Deep Sea Disaster Shark who just joined a polycule and is now helping Whisper acknowledge her feelings.

"What do you need from me?" My heart sank hearing those words from Ruin, who up until this point had made her support unconditional. "I need to hear you say it."

"I don't need a Hero." My heart yearned to plead for the confident reassurance she would freely give me. Instead I turned away and kept my voice dispassionately level. "I need weapons that will cut a path to Verity's heart. Cold, dispassionate volunteers who will not attempt to sway her from her path, just see it to the end. No matter what that looks like."

Ruin took me by the shoulders and turned me towards the abyss of her deep sea green eyes. "Can you be that for her?"

I was being unfair.

To myself.

And to her. 

"I don't know."

[nickbutnodick]

the fact i spent a solid 20 minutes being unfathomably happy because trans men were mentioned in passing but also in an affirming way two(2) times in a three minute skit is probably a sign of some deeper societal issue.

[sigmaleph]

you are offered a choice:

You get to open a video-game style character creation screen and customise your body at will, to anything within range of human variation (no cat ears, sorry). This includes letting you set a new biological age, get rid of any physical health issues, and so on. Your new appearance seems unremarkable to anyone who knows you, all government databases with your picture are adjusted, etc.

You get 150 000 USD every year for the rest of your life without having to do anything for it. You don't pay taxes on this money, it adjusts with inflation automatically, it appears entirely legitimate to any authorities, etc.

what do you choose, and also, are you trans or cis (if you're tempted to answer 'it's complicated', round off to trans)?

[elliesgaythoughts]

tattoo

MDNI

trans!ellie x brat!reader

warnings: possessive! Ellie, hickies, ass slaps, that’s it really🤍

You stroll into your shared bedroom to see Ellie sitting cross legged, eyes fixated onto the character she played on the screen. Her gaze only darting and doing a double take when you cough, capturing her attention as she somehow instantly ends up in heat “where you going?” she pauses her game, taking in the way your wine hued dress caressed you body, jealousy at the material building in her belly, she’s so obvious “out with my girlfriends” you twirl in your heels, revealing the bare flesh of your back “fuck. no.” Ellie says, her jaw on the floor “fuck no.” she laughs to herself in disbelief.

“whaaat babyy?” you whine, knowing she’d react like this, her possessiveness making your face grow warm “my woman going out looking this good? without me? nahh” she answers herself.

“babe, no” you laugh as she stands up sliding her feet in her house slippers “nooo!” you dramatically squeal while she runs at you, pressing kisses to your neck “let’s go babe” “nooo” she shakes her head, ignoring you, gripping your hips and swaying yours side to side with hers “yessss” she nods, trying to hide her smile “babeee” you pout.

“mhm?” the auburn headed woman coos, her eyes buried in your cleavage, you don’t speak, trying to let her know the silence she’ll hear if she makes you drag her out to drink with your girlfriends in a fucking tank top and ducky boxers.

her lips finally curve into a smile, belly laughing at the look of fear in your eyes “I’m just playing mama, don’t worry” you sigh in relief, your hand covering your mouth as you giggle, rolling your eyes but you don’t miss how her gaze scans your curves once more, your hands landing on her waist, looking into her pretty green eyes “I can change it if it makes you worry babe” she gnaws at her bottom lip “nah, you gotta show that body off baby” her fingers interlace with yours as she lifts your hand above your head and spins you around and pauses half way.

You can feel her gaze on you as she presses you softly to the wall, the cold making you shiver “ellie?” you mumble in confusion, looking behind yourself to see her squatting, face to face with your spine “just…” she trails off, her soft lips landing on the sensitive skin of your back as she sucks, painting the mark of her mouth onto your flesh “Ellie” you whimper out as her hands palm your ass, pressing your pelvis against the concrete.

Her mouth continues to suckling painfully hard onto your flesh, soothing Ellie as you squeeze your thighs together, feeling her spit drip down your skin.

Your forehead rests against the wall, closing your eyes and practically hearing your blood rush to your clit “fuuck” groans leave your lips as she gives the bruised skin one last peck and licks up her essence “there” she pats your ass.

“done?” you’re attitude clear, done? you thought she was just getting started.

A yelp in surprise leaves your lips as her palm land’s harshly onto the plump of your ass “yes princess, all done” she says smiling contently to herself as she watches you walk off to the bathroom, the sound of your heels clicking, covers the “fucking tease” you mutter under your breath.

You throw the door of the bathroom open “fuck me” you sigh, looking at Ellie’s work in the mirror THIS BITCH MADE A HEART OUT OF HICKEYS ON YOU you weren’t even mad, your chest swelling with pride at her act “babyyy!” you squeal “yah?” her voice leaves the the bedroom “it’s so pretty mama!” you praise her, tracing the shape as you angle yourself to see it clearer.

She walks into the bathroom, controller in hand “gotta let everyone know that pussy is being taken care of” she pecks your lips softly “mhm” you hum as her hand comes up to grip your face, her thumb and index pinching your cheeks as her tongue slides into your mouth, making you whine desperately against her mouth as you press your chest to hers but she UNFORTUNATELY pulls back and gives you one more soft peck.

You’re soaked, with heavy eyelids and a soft smile, you speak “how bout” your doe eyes trail over her body as you pull your strap down your shoulder “I just stay home?” you plead.

“Mmm” the fakes contemplation “I don’t think so” you were already leaking through your pretty little thong as you pressed your body against hers, leaving your lipstick print all over her face as you kissed her “please daddy” you begged with soft eyes “pleaseee just fuck me instead” as to which she replied to with her eyes rolling and her finger flicking your forehead.

“fuck, ellie” you whine rubbing your forehead as she holds a kiss to your head as apology “have your fun baby” “bu-” you’re cut off when she grabs your wrist and brings your hand to cup her the buldge in her boxers, feeling her dick throb against your palm “she’ll still be here for you getting back mama, understand?” your head dips, fighting the urge to drop to your knees and worship every inch of her FUCK “yes daddy” you whisper.

“Good girl” her arms wrap around you, pulling you into her warmth as she slides her knee between your legs, swaying the fabric of your skirt and bumping your clit just right, making your heartbeat fall to your throbbing pearl, engulfed in her warm aura as she dips her head down to your ear and whispers a promise “imma get you pregnant when you get back”…

@williamellieslilho @yourelliewillms @bready101 @moonalumi @heygrimace @elliesmama @pascals-doll @infiniteinquiries

[terresdebrume]

Going off that one poll, I'd like to test a theory.

More reblogs = bigger sample size.

Also, I think follow up polls would be a good idea but tbh i might need input from actual disabled people for those ^^"

[hikarry]

For the longest time, I thought I was cis. Not necessarily because I felt it deep down, but because I was forced to present as feminine as possible. My father, trying to counterbalance the whole "being gay" thing, made sure of it. I was supposed to look a certain way to fit into the "norm" he wanted to project.

Fast forward to 2020, when the world stood still, and so did my sense of self. Like many, I had a sexual crisis during lockdown, and a gender crisis hit right after. I went hyper-feminine, leaning into the only identity I knew. But suddenly, it became unbearable. I felt itchy, uncomfortable in my own skin. I found myself stealing my brother's clothes, hiding my long hair under a beanie. Some days, I loved being feminine. Other days, I relished the comfort of masculinity. And sometimes, I just didn’t care.

I didn't have a name for what I was feeling. I knew about being cis—it was the default, the norm. I had trans friends, and I knew about being non-binary from TikTok. But none of these labels seemed to fit me. I wasn't just one thing. I was everything. Then, a TikTok video introduced me to the term "genderfluid." It resonated. I liked the idea, but something still felt off. The only people I saw using this label were behind screens, with a seemingly magical ability to transform their appearance effortlessly. They could switch genders with such fluidity and grace—powers I didn't possess. I felt like I was on the outside, looking in.

Then, in 2021, everything changed when I watched Good Omens for the first time. And that’s when I met Crowley.

At first, I didn’t quite grasp his whole gender vibe. But on a rewatch, it hit me like a brick. Crowley was like me. His fluidity, his complete disregard for sticking to one gender—it was exactly what I had been searching for. He didn’t fit into a box. He just existed, gloriously and unapologetically, as whoever he wanted to be in any given moment. And that was me.

Crowley was the first genderfluid "person" I met, even if he was just a character. Seeing him on screen was incredibly validating. Up until then, I felt like a freak, confused and lost. But Crowley showed me I wasn’t alone or abnormal. He made me feel seen, understood, and normal. It was a revelation.

Crowley helped me embrace my identity without overthinking it. Just, you know, fuck it. Female, male—who cares? It was liberating. I owe that sense of freedom to him.

To anyone struggling with their gender identity, feeling like they don’t fit into a neat category, I hope you find your Crowley. That moment of realization where you see yourself reflected somewhere and know you’re not alone. Because you’re not. We’re out here, existing and thriving, just like Crowley.

[c-is-for-circinate]

It feels like there's this narrative that fandom keeps wanting to explore, with Steve Harrington, about this very specific type of martyrdom where self-sacrifice is an expression of a lack of self-worth. And, like, yes, write the narrative that's meaningful to you, and yes ok Steve does admittedly get beaten up a lot, but -- legitimately I do not think this narrative is actually Steve's story.

Like, without gendering things too much, there is something in the Steve fanon that I keep seeing that's so reflective of the specific kind of sacrifice and societal pressures exerted on girls, specifically -- this story of 'you make yourself worthy and worthwhile by carving pieces out of yourself', of believing that you must always give and never receive to justify the space you take up in the world. Yes, boys can experience this same pressure (and obviously trans and nb people of all genders run into it as well! sometimes a lot!), but especially in the mid-1980s cultural context where Stranger Things takes place, it's just...really not likely to be a dominant narrative for Steve to be operating under? It doesn't even really match the Steve we see on screen -- who is happy to make sacrifices for the sake of others, yeah, when needed, but who's not particularly kind or giving unless somebody asks first.

And Steve does get hurt a lot on other people's behalf! And this is a problem! It's just a completely different problem than the one fandom keeps writing.

Steve, and I'm going to say this forever, is a story about toxic masculinity, which the show may or may not even know it's writing. The archetypes influencing Steve's character as it shows up on the screen (and the stories and messages that Steve would actually be surrounded by in his actual life) are not deconstructions of suffering heroes who never should have had to fight in the first place and were destroyed by it. That's the Buffy the Vampire Slayer story. Steve's not Buffy. Steve's cultural context is Indiana Jones.

Steve is The Guy! And part of being The Guy is that you're expected to take the hits -- not because Steve is less important than the women-and-children he's supposed to protect, but because, the story says, he will get less hurt. Why should Steve get in between Billy and Lucas? Because Steve is an eighteen-year-old athlete and Lucas is in middle school, and of the two of them, Steve actually stands a chance. (And yes, Steve got badly hurt there, and Max had to save him -- but if Lucas, if Max had taken that beating they would not have been running through those tunnels later.) Was somebody else better-qualified to dive down to the uncertain bottom of a cold lake in the middle of the night? Steve doesn't list his credentials there as a way of justifying some ideal of martyrdom; he is literally the most likely person on the boat not to drown.

And make no mistake: when Steve's pulled into the Upside-Down, he survives the bats long enough for backup to get there. Realistic or not, he's apparently tough enough that he's physically capable of hiking barefoot through hell without much slowing down. Steve is the tank for the same reason as any tank: because he literally has been shown to have the most hit points in the group. You cannot honestly engage with Steve in this context without dealing with the fact that he's right.

AND THIS IS A PROBLEM! This is still a problem! But it's not the same problem that fandom seems to expect. It's not an expression of caretaking or the need for self-sacrifice; it's not an issue with Steve valuing himself less. It's an issue of toxic masculinity so ingrained that Steve doesn't even recognize he's suffering from it, because one of the tenets of toxic masculinity is that Big Strong Guys don't suffer. It's just a concussion, it's fine, he'll walk it off. It's not that Steve thinks he deserves to get hurt, or even that he's less deserving of safety than the others. It's that absolutely nothing in his cultural context allows him to admit that he can be hurt in a significant way.

There's still so much tension that can be gotten out of this situation, I swear. There's so much that can be explored in writing! Hell, the show itself is deconstructing some of this trope, believe it or not, by giving us a Steve who absolutely can take all the hits thrown his direction but still doesn't know what the fuck he's doing with his life. It turns out that doing his job as The Guy is only mildly helpful in horror movie situations (mostly by buying time for smarter, squishier people to do the damage from behind him), and somewhere a little worse than useless in everyday life.

But Steve does not go out of his way to self-sacrifice, he really doesn't. He just does his job. He's The Guy. Of course he's not going to let a kid or a girl or some scared skinny nerd who just learned about monsters yesterday take the hits. Of course Steve's got this.

[falciesystemessays]

I honestly think that Dizzy's entrance to Guilty Gear Strive should be as much of A Moment for plural systems as Bridget's was for trans women. The character's not out yet, but every bit of promotional material for the character points in a very promising direction. So for people who don't go here, or who have only played Strive, allow me to tell you why a character trailer for a three-year-old game put me on the verge of tears.

For some quick context, plurality in a person is essentially the state of having multiple entities in one's head. The most commonly known form of this comes from having dissociative identity disorder, formerly known as multiple personalities. But plenty within the plural community (including me) have a broader umbrella for the term. The main terminology you'll want to know for this is that a "system" is a group of entities within one body (I for example am part of the Fal'cie System), and "aspects" are entities that aren't quite separable from the host, because they're the manifestation of specific parts of them. For the record I am very aware of how buckwild this sounds to an outsider, and I frequently get existential about it. A lot of characters in anime and games are incidentally plural due to their layers of fantasy nonsense. Some examples of this in action are Yami and Yugi from Yu-Gi-Oh, Sora gaining Ventus's heart in Kingdom Hearts, and the explicit dissociative identity of the Storyteller System in Ace Attorney.

Now then! To sum up Dizzy's backstory real quick, Dizzy is a Gear, basically a living weapon, and the daughter of original antagonist Justice. Most of her character up until this point has been desperately trying to cover that and live among humans, to... mixed avail. In the series' story mode she manages to start a family with the human deuteragonist Ky Kiske, who loves her a lot despite formerly being one of the best Gear-slayers. Ky is such a wonderful character, because throughout the series we see him go from hating Gears to tolerating a few of them to having a kid with one and actually becoming a little bit Gear himself. But this essay isn't about Ky Kiske.

In actual gameplay, as in the 1v1 fighting game battles, the main thing stopping her from relative normalcy is her two wings, Necro and Undine. The reason I say this character is a plural dub is because these wings are actually aspects of Dizzy, Necro being her rage and Undine her compassion. A lot of Dizzy's attack animations in Guilty Gear XX (the one where I've played Dizzy a lot) actually have Necro doing violent things while Dizzy herself is either distracted or afraid. This continued in Guilty Gear Xrd, where her instant kill move (every character gets one) has Necro unleashing a fuckoff gamma ray while Dizzy begs him to stop. Worth noting also that gamma rays are one of the moves her mother Justice used. Dizzy and Necro have clearly not been getting along, and while it's fun as a fighting game character bit, there is a certain level of sadness to it.

But in Strive? Oh my god, she looks so happy now! So at peace with herself and with her system. Lemme just rattle stuff off right now.

-Dizzy's attack animations all put her in control. Necro and Undine do a lot of fighting still, but never without Dizzy's control. They are fighting in tandem.

-Dizzy's victory animation has her hold out two hands. Undine naturally puts her whole hand onto one, and Necro finally puts a single finger on the other with a smile.

-Their super move, Gamma Ray, starts out with Necro and Undine firing a beam, and Dizzy getting scared. But after glancing at them and realizing it's okay, she joins in on the beam attack.

-She has a new move now, Michael Sword (Pronounced Mik-hai-ull), a full-screen slash that Justice used to have, indicating that she's come to terms with her origins and wants to use them for good.

-God, her opening animation and taunt where she communes with the animals like a Disney princess. Her new beautiful design. Her new theme song! She has never been this happy in her life!

The thing is, right, I can imagine people saying that this character growth isn't remotely the same kind of moment as Bridget's, because Dizzy's whole thing is based in sci-fantasy that could never be real in the same way that like, dissociative identity is real. Plenty more would deny that plurality exists at all outside some deluded roleplayers. And, I mean, was series director Daisuke Ishiwatari really thinking about people like me when choosing to take the character this way? I don't know, honestly. But I do know that Dizzy's character arc is authentic, to me. If there's one thing Guilty Gear Strive's story is really good at, it's giving long-suffering characters some well-earned peace. And if this is how Strive Season 4 is starting, I can't wait to see what they do next.

[fredwkong]

Himbo Maker: Misha

Misha was an Egirl: a European Guy In Real Life. He would do his makeup, put on fake eyelashes, a wig, and a pair of pink headphones with kitty cat ears, and stream video games online. He loved to troll new viewers by spending an hour or so doing a breathy, feminine voice, and then suddenly hit them with his natural Baltic baritone. The way the chat went crazy made it worth it every time.

The whole game was helped by how petit and curvy Misha had always been. Even in his twenties, he still had a soft, almost girlish body and stood at most of other guys’ sternums. Too bad he wasn’t a trans girl, or at least a gay boy, he sometimes thought, looking at his body in the mirror. Gay guys were supposed to go for little guys who looked like him.

One evening, Misha was just starting his stream when some user started acting really weird in chat. He had a username that almost seemed familiar to Misha, but the guy he was thinking of had always been polite and given insightful comments on Misha’s gaming. This guy’s messages were full of typos, and he couldn’t seem to stop talking about his muscles.

Misha was just about to ban the guy when an alert sounded: Misha’s charming, girly laugh, which indicated a user had just donated a hefty sum. Of course, it was this annoying brodude.

“Uh,” said Misha, almost forgetting to put on his femmy voice, “He says, “Bro, this guy liek wants to chat wiht u on stream.” And there’s a link in the donation.”

Clicking the link, Misha found himself looking at a chat website he’d never seen before. “Hold on, let me share my screen,” he simpered, sharing the chat window. Somehow, his usual screen name was already in the bar. It must have populated from his stream.

Mish-kittycat: Like, heyoooo! You okay with being on stream with me? (✿◠‿◠)

Himbo_mkr: No way, bruh! I love meeting new bros. Like, hi stream!

Misha was a bit offended that this chat partner would refer to him as a “bro.” But stream chat seemed interested, so he thought it could be worth a few minutes to humour the donater. It had been a fair amount of money.

Mish-kittycat: What do you want to talk about UwU

Himbo_mkr: Bro, you know that all I ever talk about are my sick gains and going out with guys, lmao

Okay, so this was a troll. They probably wanted to get Misha banned for lewdness or something. Still, at least it was original that the troll character was a gay guy. He rolled his eyes at the stream and said, out loud in his girl voice, “Looks like someone got mad enough to pay to speak with all this.” He gestured down his slim body in tonight’s outfit, a stereotypical Japanese maid costume.

Himbo_mkr: Huhuhu, bro, you clicked on the link. Didn’t force you to do it.

Misha froze. Of course the troll was watching the stream. “Heh, I don’t let meatheaded bullies boss me around,” he chirped, trying to save face.

Himbo_mkr: You sure? You sure like it when your chat bosses you around, bro.

Now this guy was just lying. Misha scowled, even though he knew the expression would make his foundation crack unattractively. “This is a really weird way to bully someone.” He looked at the stream chat, waiting for his subscribers to back him up.

But the character of the chat seemed to have changed. No, they had always been bossy, Misha suddenly remembered. They would tell Misha how to play his games all the time while he pretended to struggle. It was a key part of the dynamic of his channel that chat bossed him around, and right now they were telling him to go back to chatting with this guy. One guy even messaged, “No more talking, kitty. You’re only allowed to write in the chat.” Misha gave the camera a plaintive look, but listened. He always listened to his chat.

Mish-kittycat: So maybe you’re right about that one thing, but coming in here being rude is totally uncool (งᓀ‸ᓂ)ง

Himbo_mkr: Bro, I think we got off on the wrong foot. I was just tryna compliment you on your sick bis, dude.

Misha cocked his head, confused. He was the opposite of buff, that was why he was so good at dressing as a girl. But as he continued to think about it, he remembered all the hours he spent working on his arms. He kept a set of weights next to his bedroom door, and he did bicep curls to failure every time he went through the doorway. Yeah, his biceps were his pride and joy, and they were usually how he showed off his manliness when he revealed his deep voice and accent.

A tip came in. “Flex for us, kitty,” commanded the text-to-speech voice. With a smirk, Misha lifted up one of his arms, feeling it stretch the sleeve of his maid costume as the veins popped. Too bad the rest of his body hadn’t followed his arms and gotten bulky.

Himbo_mkr: We’re all waiting for you to drop your lifting routine, bro! You’ve been totally blowing up.

Misha blushed at the flattery. His physique wasn’t all that impressive. Sure, now that he thought about it, he had been really hitting the weights a lot and eating right. In fact, his room seemed to be full of lifting clothes and supplements as he looked around. But that was because some of his subscribers kept telling him to get to the gym and hit his macros. It had actually been really freeing to just let people pay to tell him what to do on his fitness journey. And it was paying off! Misha definitely couldn’t pass for a girl these days, which was why the channel had changed to be more about doing stuff in-game for the highest bidders.

The maid costume barely wrapped around Misha’s broad pecs, and the garters had torn when he’d tried to pull them up his thick thighs. Sure, it had been funny when the stream started and the chat had gotten Misha to show off his shoulder raises while dressed in a little maid skirt, but the polyester was really starting to chafe on his smooth muscles. It was a relief when a tip rolled in while Misha flexed and said “Kitty, wear comfy clothes.” The chat oooohed and aaaahed as Misha shucked the maid costume, showing off his bulky chest, and pulled on his favourite comfy shirt instead. Sure, it had some tears and stuff, but as a masculine guy, Misha wasn’t worried about dressing up fancy or anything.

The guy whose chat Misha was streaming had been quiet, so Misha hopped back over and sent another message.

Mish-kittyhunk: Thanks man! It’s all about trusting the process.

Himbo_mkr: I can tell that you trust people, bro! You’re like a puppy lmao.

Well, Misha thought, maybe he did like getting bossed around in chat, but it wasn’t like he trusted everyone blindly! Okay, well, maybe he did tend to stop to help people on the road and then lose his wallet a lot. They looked like they needed help! And maybe he did sometimes click on links that meant he needed to take his phone to the store for them to fix, but so did everyone else!

Looking at the chat, who were all laughing about Misha being a totally trusting puppy, Misha had to finally agree. That was why one of his subscribers had gotten him this headset with floppy dog ears on it, after all.

Mish-puphunk: Haha, you got me, dude! That’s why I clicked on this link, too XD

Himbo_mkr: It’s okay, bro. Lots of gay hunks are pretty dumb, it just adds to that himbo appeal.

This time this guy was definitely making stuff up. Misha was totally straight, he just didn’t do well with girls. Well, that and being a submissive hunk online mostly attracted a gay male fanbase. And, well, now that he thought about it, when was the last time Misha had really thought about a girl? Like, maybe if it was a domme? But no, even then, Misha would really prefer a guy to be involved at some point. This guy was probably right, Misha was gay.

It was super hard to think. There was a reason that Misha preferred to let chat do the thinking for him. Even before he realised how much he loved to listen when men told him what to do, Misha had never been much of a deep thinker. That was why most of the stuff in his room was gym gear, gaming stuff, or whatever his subscribers bought for him. Lately, they had been really loving when Misha wore even less clothes and showed off more of his growing body, and Misha was happy to oblige as long as they kept telling him what to do!

Mish-puphunk: Lol I guess you’re right! I just wanna give sirs what they want

Himbo_mkr: Bro, I totally get why you love pup play so much. You just love being obedient and dumb and empty lmao. You, like, pretty much live in your mask these days.

A pup mask…Misha was pretty sure one of his subscribers had sent him one of those once, but it had been really confusing to put on and he’d only worn it once. No, wait, that wasn’t right. Misha was such a ditz! He’d loved the experience of putting on the pup mask and letting himself be a dumb pup for his chat. And chat had loved sending in tips to give him commands like “sit,” “roll over,” and “stick a tail in your hole.”

It had been so popular that the subscribers had told Misha to make it a weekly thing, then a biweekly thing, and by now it had pretty much become what Misha did during his streams. While chatting with this guy had been fun, Misha really wanted to get on with the stream and mask up. He opened his mouth to tell the viewers that, but then remembered that he had been ordered not to talk. Too bad, chat would only hear his deep, resonant voice if they ordered him to bark after he put on his mask.

Mish-puphunk: Okay dude, I gotta go be a good dumb pup now.

Himbo_mkr: Got it, bruh! You got a bunch of hunky doms to please by being a good pup slut!

Chat cheered as Misha stopped streaming the chat window and winked at the camera. An especially hung dom who loved to tip had won the bid war last night to decide what Misha wore, so Misha fondled the straps of his leather harness as he got up to grab his mask. He wondered what his chat full of muscular, horny himbo doms would have him do today.

Misha slipped on the mask and let his mind go blank.

[jewish-sideblog]

I am sick and fucking tired of the fandomsphere's obsession with explicit canon. A character can be coded to hell and back and people will still refuse to acknowledge it unless the character looks directly into the camera and says "I'm [marginalized identity]."

The Spider-Verse movies made Peter B Parker Jewish and made Gwen Stacy trans. I don't give a shit if it's never said outright. It's canon. Peter B Parker has a Jewish wedding on-screen and shows off Hannukah bling in promotional material. He's Jewish. Gwen has a trans flag in her room and a trans-coded coming-out story that peaks with being cast in clear and intentional trans flag lighting. She's trans. Good on Spider-Verse for giving us solid representation without sacrificing time that should be spent on the characters' stories to bring explicit attention to their identities! The consequence is that you can't say he's Jewish or say she's trans in a public forum without having to pull out screenshots to prove your case.

Those are just two irksome examples from the same franchise, but this happens all the time across all fandom media. If you refuse to accept evidence and coding as proof, then you're perpetuating the idea that privileged identities are more normal and default than marginalized ones. Gwen shouldn't need to say "I'm trans" and Peter B shouldn't need to say "I'm Jewish" on-screen. No character should ever have to do that, because we never expect a character to reveal that they're canonically cisgender or goyishe.

[stellewriites]

Part Two

Summary: When John gets an unexpected invite to his ex-wife’s wedding, he scrambles to find a suitable date to take with him to ward off old ghosts from his past.

Notes: trans John, fat reader, subtle transphobia from minor characters

John was sat in his flat watching a Match of the Day rerun for a football game he’d missed while away when his phone buzzed on the kitchen counter.

His head swivelled over to it to see if it buzzed again, determining it unimportant enough to ignore for the time being when it stayed silent. Kate always called, so it wasn’t work and anyone else that was texting him after 9pm could wait.

It buzzed a second time, then a third and a fourth in quick succession and he felt curiosity twinge at the base of his skull. He pushed himself up, ignoring when one of his knees popped, and grabbed his phone.

Your name flashed up on the screen and he opened the chat without hesitation.

>> the photos from today, don’t forget to swap them out :)

He flicked through the photos you’d sent before picking one at random to save.

John sat back on his couch and agonised over swapping his lock screen.

It was currently an old photo of Charlotte from their honeymoon, and it had stayed that way this entire time in spite of the divorce. He had kept her there even when he’d removed her photos from his desk and was unable to put any up in his new flat. His little secret. Though he knew Kate had seen it despite his best efforts to leave his civilian phone at his flat or turned off during his office hours.

But now…

He felt almost queasy as he selected the new photo. It felt like the first of many final nails in the relationship’s coffin that John would have to deal with over the next month in the lead up to Charlotte’s big day.

It felt like he was mourning a relationship already six years dead.

---

John adapted quickly to seeing your face on his phone screen at the end of the day over the next two weeks, even if he did miss seeing Charlotte’s cheery smile, and found it just as easy to accept seeing your name pop up more and more frequently when you messaged with a new question you’d thought of regarding the wedding or your fake relationship.

It was easy to talk to you, he found. Easy to let his guard down just a tinge and to try and bury the hurt he felt.

>> what’s a childhood story you’d have told me about a couple months in?

<< I fell out of a tree when I was 12, was meant to be grounded at the time so I had to walk home with broken ribs and a scraped up arm and leg. Tried to pretend nothing had happened when my mum got back from work, but it didn’t fool her.

>> i broke my arm climbing a tree too, maybe one of our dates should’ve been at a forest climbing adventure place lol

<< You wouldn’t have wanted to be wined and dined?

>> sure but it can get a little boring

>> you wouldn’t have wanted to hypothetically stare at my arse cinched in climbing gear?

>> were there food options for the wedding? like on planes? i’m not a veggie so you dodged a bullet if you chose a main with meat but i do love pasta if we’re able to swap last minute

<< Everyone loves pasta.

<< And no, think it’s an open buffet.

>> i’ll bring a doggy bag for snacks on the way home then

>> waste not, want not

<< Say that in front of my dad and he might just add you to his will.

>> this is the dress I have in mind, what do you think?

<< Good choice.

>> glowing praise, john, i’ll take that as it won’t cause a scandal among the locals

<< Don’t think you’ll be the one causing a scandal, Sunshine.

It was in a rare occasion he’d texted you first that you arranged to meet up a second time. He’d asked about the plans you’d mentioned a few days back and was currently waiting for a reply while he tried to slog through his own work.

>> was super excited for the play today but I think I might have to cancel my tickets, my friend was driving us there but her kid has gotten sick so she can’t go now :/

<< Where were you going?

>> it’s at a park on the other side of the city with the outdoor stage, i could grab a couple of buses but i don’t know if i’d make it in time

John put down the dry sandwich he was eating and looked at the meeting reports he’d been ignoring for the last ten minutes while texting you.

<< I’ll come pick you up.

>> really??

<< Sure. Send me your address and I’ll be there soon, Sunshine.

John had barely parked up outside your house before you were opening the door and giving him an excited smile and wave.

“I love stuff like this anyway, but this community group have put on some amazing portrayals of Shakespeare’s plays over the years despite their low budget and they make it so accessible with cheap tickets and the outdoor venue. It’s cut down so the teens performing have a better chance at remembering their lines, but it’s always one hell of a forty-five minute show. I think it’s Othello this time, but honestly I’d watch anything,” you rambled as you buckled your seatbelt. “It’s always good to support local art.”

“So we’re seeing Shakespeare?” John confirmed.

“It’s at the open air theatre inside the park.”

“Been a while since I went to the theatre, longer than that since I’ve been in a park.”

“What do you do in your off time?” You asked with a snort.

“Don’t get much off time,” John said easily, unbothered. It was him after all that had decided work would become his priority.

“Well then I’m glad we’re getting to see this together,” you said. “I’ve had a pretty long week too.”

“Hm?”

At his inquisitive hum you fell into complaining about your managers and the long, tiring shifts you pulled.

It didn’t take you long in the car to get to the park however and you were soon jumping out. You gaped a little when John got out and joined you at the front of the car.

“Holy hell you’re tall, shit a brick,” you said, staring. You’d noticed he was broad at the café and he seemed to fill the cab of his pick-up, but he’d been slumped and seated both times so you’d assumed he was maybe creeping just below 6’ and the rest was his attitude that made him seem all encompassing. Looking at him stood up to his full height now was something else, even as he tucked his chin down and slumped his shoulders to speak with you. “I think we’ll have to sit at the back for this or someone might complain.”

John rolled his eyes but you saw the hint of a smile play at his lips as he agreed.

You led him eagerly to the crowd you could see gathering at the entrance of the outdoor stage; the front four rows of the small open air auditorium had been unfolded for the event, suggesting the size of the crowd expected. You both elected to take a seat on the back row as others started to head to the front, but he nudged you fondly when he saw you shift excitedly waiting for it to start.

John pulled out his phone when he felt it buzz in his pocket, but put it back when he saw it was just a reminder to sort out his tux for the wedding.

“Cute pic,” you said with a sly smile when you caught his lock screen. “We should take another, might be more convincing if we have more than one photo of us doing stuff together, right?”

John leant into your side and hesitantly wrapped his arm around you, stiff where it draped over the back of your seat, for the photo.

You were no better, your smile suddenly tight at the corners as you took a quick snap. You held your breath until he moved back, his aftershave surprisingly enticing and the warmth and weight of his arm too inviting.

It wouldn’t do for you to become attracted to John, not that it was something you could control, you knew. But maybe if you just wished it hard enough it wouldn’t make the weekend away with him more difficult than it had to be; falling for a man still blatantly in love with his ex never ended well for anyone.

You smiled a little weakly at him when nudged you again, nodding at the community group making their way onto the stage in front of the clapping crowd.

Maybe attraction would be fine you decided, already knowing how impulsively forgetful and weak-willed you got when your vibrator was between your legs - you could already imagine his name slipping through loose lips, and you couldn’t blame yourself for it as you sneakily took in his side profile - just as long as there were no real feelings from your side.

---

You’d graduated from texting to calling when John mentioned one night that he found it hard to multitask while at work. You’d offered to leave him alone and talk to him once he was done later but he’d been quick to interrupt, said instead that although he couldn’t text and write at the same time, he’d be fine talking and writing.

It’s how he found himself sat at his desk with his phone propped next to him on speaker, listening to you complain about the shitty restaurants near your work.

“I need to get back into meal prepping, or at least start buying something nicer pre-made to bring for lunch. If I have to eat another Greggs meal deal I think I’ll throw up, John,” you bemoaned.

“There’s a new place just opened up ‘round the corner to you, you know?” He said, checking over his team’s reports before signing them off. At your interested hum he continued. “Greek place I think. The sergeants went the other day, said it was a good menu and they’re usually quite picky about where they spend their free time together.”

“That sounds perfect, I’ll meet you there in twenty?” You asked rhetorically, already gathering your stuff to take your lunch break. “I can order for us both in case it takes you longer so it’ll be served by time you arrive. See you in a bit, bye!” You didn’t wait for him to confirm or reply in any capacity, too excited for a delicious lunch.

John stared down at his phone where the screen fell black through lack of use at the ended call. He took a moment to recount the conversation and where he’d gotten mixed up before reluctantly dropping his pen and grabbing his coat and keys.

He stopped by Simon’s office on his way out.

“I’m heading out for a quick lunch, won’t be back in time for that meeting with Laswell after all so you’ll need to take notes.” He waited for Simon’s nod before knocking once on the doorframe in thanks and leaving.

Sure he could’ve just sent you a quick text to correct you, or rang you back to explain it was just a recommendation and he didn’t have the time to join you.

But he didn’t want to. He wanted to go eat Greek food with you until you were humming happily and rubbing your soft stomach, comfortably full on more than a lukewarm pasty and sad looking iced donut. He wanted to hear about your day at work so far and what you’d been up to with your friends on Saturday evening when your replies had slowed down.

He wanted.

It had been a long time since John had felt that way. Given most of the people he’d consider friends were people he worked with and kept their personal lives close to their chests, it wasn’t often he wanted to do much more than spend a couple hours in a pub after a rough mission with them.

You were quickly solidifying yourself a space in John’s life as a friend, whether you knew it or not. Whether you liked it or not. And as a result, he didn’t want to leave you to eat on your own knowing you to be a social butterfly, even after such a short time. John was known to be protective - some had said possessive - of those he considered his. And being his friend meant that you would given the same effort of care and consideration that he gave his team, it just needed to be applied differently.

It wouldn’t be through proud shoulder pats after a mission well-done or through unshakeable confidence and trust when he put his life on the line stood side-by-side with the 141.

No, it would be pulling up to hole in the wall restaurants last minute so that you could spend your lunch a little happier than you were when you were sat at your desk.

He found you sat at the back table, the seat facing the front windows and door left free for him to take with silent appreciation.

The food was as good as Gaz and Soap had promised it would be and the sight of you scarfing down baklava before you had to head back to work had him grinning into his glass.

“Christ, I might have to get a to-go box of this for tonight,” you groaned lowly.

“Big plans?” John asked, clearing his throat.

“Just some DIY I’ve been putting off around the house, figure if I entice myself with a treat for after it’s done I’ll be more likely to actually do it.” You go to take your last bite before pausing and pointing at John. “And before you say it, I realise it sounds like how you train a puppy.”

John snorted, but a frown pulled low on his brow. “What needs fixing?”

“My front door is scraping low when I open it, hinges are loose I think. Nothing major but I’d rather not fuck it up, you know? But if I leave it any longer then I’ll need to pay someone to deal with some real damage,” you sighed. “So I’ve borrowed my neighbour’s drill.”

“I’ll do it for ya,” John offered out of nowhere.

“What? No, you don’t have to, you’re busy,” you declined.

“It’s fine, I’ll pop by later tonight. Just let me know when you’re home and I’ll swing by and sort it.”

“I, uh, ok. Sure, thanks, John. I appreciate it,” you said with a grateful, if not bemused, smile.

---

As soon as you opened the door that evening, John noticed how the bottom caught.

“Hi, do you want a drink? A tea?” You offered as you let him in.

“I’d love one, thanks, Sunshine.” He stepped inside and placed his drill case by the doorframe.

“Oh, you brought your own drill? You didn’t have to go home for it, did you?” You fretted as you headed towards the kitchen. “Did I not mention I’d borrowed my neighbour’s?”

“You did. But this was in the back of the truck from Simon borrowing it, it’s not a big deal,” John lied. He’d stopped off to grab it after your lunch together. “Wasn’t sure what your neighbour’s drill was going to be like, but I know this’ll get the job done proper.”

You bit back an amused smile and hummed your assent down the hall as you waited for the electric kettle to boil.

“Thanks again for helping out, John. I can get by doing my own DIY usually; not to brag but I’m kind of a pro at assembling IKEA furniture. Sometimes though it helps having a second person look it over too.” You walked back to the front door as you spoke and held his tea for him as he set up the drill to match the screws in the door.

“It’s no hassle,” he said before setting to work.

A quick three minutes later your door was once again in full working order, no longer sticking when it swung open and closed.

“Good as new,” he said. You passed him his drink, still hot, and grinned, leading him to sit on the couch for a moment. “If y’need anything else fixing up or looking at, just let me know. I’d be happy to help.”

“Opened the floodgates with that offer. You’ll be regretting it soon enough,” you said with a laugh. “This place is a bit of a fixer-upper, ‘s why I could afford it in the first place.”

“You’ve done a good job with it,” he said earnestly, looking around the cosy living room. Would be better if you weren’t alone, he thought suddenly, unbidden. He took a deep sip of his drink and avoided eye contact. “I like being useful, you might as well take advantage of it since no one else is at the moment.”

You smiled softly. “That’s all the permission I need.”

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he slipped it out to see a text from his mum.

>> Make sure your date isn’t wearing white, luv. I’m sure she’s a lovely girl, but we wouldn’t want to spoil Charlotte’s day would we? xxx

<< Her dress is green, nothing to worry about mum. xx

>> Green is a bold choice, must be quite the lady to pull that off! Give her my love. xxx

John sighed as he put his phone down and caught your eye in his peripheral.

He smiled tiredly to ease your worried frown.

“Just my mum checking in, she gives you her love,” he said.

“Mm. She gives you a headache,” you pointed out. “Wedding shit still?”

“It’s her prime focus right now. It’ll be done soon.”

“You want a paracetamol? I’ll top up your tea.” You reached forward for his empty cup.

“Got something stronger?” John asked hopefully.

You winced. “I’ve got a gin ‘n’ tonic in a can that my friend left the other day? Can’t even offer you a strong coffee because it’s decaf.”

“Jesus,” he groaned through a laugh. “Another tea it is.”

---

The morning of the wedding came sooner than you’d expected. The dress that you’d carefully hung on your wardrobe door to avoid creases all those weeks ago would finally be put to use.

You got up early enough to get yourself ready, nervousness unsettling your stomach enough that you stuck to only a slice of toast for breakfast with a strong coffee.

>> Setting off now, I’ll be at yours in 20.

<< you mean you’ll be here by 0900 🫡

>> Funny.

>> See you soon.

You chuckled to yourself as you grabbed your things so you were ready to go when John arrived and double checked everything was locked up for the weekend.

The knock on your door had your heart jump and pound double-time in your chest before you shook your hands out and told yourself to fucking chill. It was just John.

“Hi, you ready to— oh, you look, uhm…” John trailed off as he took in the flowing silk dress you’d bought. He’d seen it before, of course, but now seeing you in it and the way it clung to your curves and highlighted your plush tummy and wide hips had his tongue heavy and lost in his mouth. He swallowed thickly as he looked back up to your face, trying not to linger on the plunged neckline and what it did for your tits, and felt his cheeks redden when he noticed your own flustered, wide-eyed look as you stood and watched him. “You look very nice,” he finished lamely.

“Right, good, thanks.” You tried to force a laugh but your throat felt too dry, even as you grinned at his red cheeks. “You clean up pretty well too,” you said instead and reached your hand out to brush against the neatened trim of his beard, his muttonchops less pronounced.

He stiffened at the unexpected touch, not disliking it, but a memory of Charlotte doing something similar had him flinching back. Charlotte, he remembered, would usually only rub at his beard with a frown and ask when he was going to go clean shaven again.

You didn’t know that however and you snatched your hand back to your side as you felt a chill drop from your chest down to your toes like a bucket of cold water. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” you apologised.

“No, it’s fine. Just caught me off guard,” he said, trying to ease your suddenly tense shoulders and cursing himself for getting lost in old memories.

He led you to the car and held open the door for you, smiling when you thanked him and tucked in your dress to avoid its long length getting trapped in the door.

Once he was sat in the drivers seat he hesitated for a moment before turning to face you.

“‘M glad you like it,” he said with a quick gesture to his beard. “I was thinking about shaving it off for the occasion.”

You winced reflexively at the thought, teeth gritted and bared as you tried to picture him without facial hair. He let out a deep rumble of a laugh, throaty and unfiltered, as you tried to square your face back to a neutral expression, though your eyebrows wouldn’t pull back from their frown.

“I’m sure that would’ve looked… sweet,” you hedged carefully.

John only snorted.

You huffed and rolled your eyes. “Ok I’m a terrible liar,” you started, glaring when John muttered an amused, you don’t say. “If you want to shave and like how it looks, then we can detour back to yours and I’m sure you’ll look just as handsome in whatever photos you’re forced to pose for. But if you’re asking for my opinion? Then I think this suits you better, it’s more distinguished. You’d have looked too much like a banker if you’d shaved and wore a suit,” you said with an exaggerated shiver.

John hummed a chuckle, his shoulders shaking with it. “I’m sure the word you’re thinking of rhymes with banker, Sunshine.”

It was your turn to snort a laugh at that.

“Your words, not mine, John.”

“Cheeky. Put your bloody seatbelt on,” he huffed, a smile pulling at his lips as he started the car. “Suddenly thinking this drive might feel ten times longer than usual for some reason.”

You rolled your eyes and didn’t dignify his jab with a response. Tried not to focus on your pulse racing in excitement.

masterlist

[professionalchaoticdumbass]

every "trans representation" in movies and shows from disney/netflix/whatnot

introducing our AWESOME AND DIVERSE new TRANSGENDER character!! His name is Whitey McTwinkerson and he is transmasc or nonbinary depending on who you ask. how is this reflected in the show you may ask? well... Protagonist Man asks him about his scary traumacore past and he says "but that was when I was a little girl" so i think that is pretty clear cut. We chose to ignore Whitey's transition story and transition because trans people are JUST like normal people and there are too many sad stories about coming out anyways!!!!! The director said he's a he/they off screen in a tweet