#someone else probably did this before but whatever

[jiinxswife]

How would they meet? Jinx x Fem!Reader

Warnings: spoilers of season 2, alternative ending, jinx meeting reader for the first time. Ekko and jinx aren’t close yet (it’s practically impossible for them to be in love already since jinx and ekko stayed years apart and reunited only for a few hours)

Reader is written on pink, jinx on blue

Autor note: this is just a small drabble, something that popped up in my mind.

Letting relief tears fall from her eyes, Jinx hugs the monster that her father became, recalling the moments where she was simply a sister, simply a daughter, nobody else, not a terrorist, not Zaun’s hero, not Jinx, just somebody’s loved one. Hearing VI’s screams, she pulls the trigger of her sad-monkey-themed grenade, letting the pink smoke take over her vision for some seconds.

. . . . .

Kicking her father’s chest, using the smoke screen to hide her body being released from what once were Vander’s hands, she uses her Speed boost to survive the explosion and run away.

She learned her lesson. It took Milo, Claggor, Silco and Isha for her to realize, but she did, accepting that she truly is a jinx, someone something that only causes bad luck, that she’s what leads her loved ones to death, so she swore to break the circle. Ekko wasn’t there to see, but Vi was, Vi saw everything, and why would Vi lie about the death her only family? No one would come looking for her, the news would be spread quickly through Zaun. No one would recognize since she changed her looks, soon, she will probably be seen simply as one of the Jinx’s followers.

While running away as fast as she can, once away from the place she “died”, she bumps into someone. A young girl, she seems healthy, “probably from Piltover”, jinx assumes, she looks at you and notice that you seem scared, but mostly confused. She didn’t stay long, she took her conclusions in the small moment she bumped into you before she started running again, not caring much about you. Little did she know that in your confused state, you thought there was something following her, some kind of danger, maybe the weird creatures from before, most of the them were “death”, but for what you knew, some could have escaped from whatever killed the others, so, in an attempt to stay safe and not die, you follow her, the short blue-haired girl.

In the panic and mess of emotions on her own mind, jinx doesn’t notices you, not until she stops in a hidden, isolated place to catch her breath, and hear a female voice doing the same, close to her, closer then the expected, making her back down. “Who are you?” She asks, but only gets another question as an answer “what are we running away from”? And with that, Jinx scoffs and starts to run again. panicked, confused by the last events, you follow her, it’s not like you know what’s happening, and staying still doesn’t feels like the safest option, not to mention you’re already lost

It doesn’t matters how much she tries to break the circle, at least with you, she won’t be able to

[melanielocke]

Tbh whatever Viktor is talking about doesn't even have anything to do with evolution. It's not even that he misunderstands evolution, he made up his own thing which is more related to transhumanism and calls that evolution.

Not only does evolution not have a destination, evolution also does not change living organisms, it's much slower than that. So when Viktor is healing people or changing into robots, that has literally nothing to do with evolution. Evolution would be if humans over a long time and many generations turned into his weird robot things because that's the best suited life form for the circumstances (nature's greatest force, forever in flux as Singed says, though I also find his statement a bit weird). Instead, Viktor decided that for humans not to suffer, they must be changed, and calls that glorious evolution, I think largely because that's his game catchphrase. Perhaps because it sounds cooler than glorious transhumanism? Glorious body modifications? Idk.

Perhaps he just calls it glorious evolution because he thought it sounded cool. It might also even be that he wasn't familiar with evolution theory at all (idk about the religious background but he is also making some more religious statements on how he believes in fate, and later he believes the glorious evolution is destined), and only singed knows about normal evolution since it's closer to his field. And then Viktor would use evolution as a much looser term for change, since linguistically evolution can be used in different contexts?

I'm not sure if he truly doesn't understand how evolution theory works (and considering Singed brings it up first, I do presume evolution theory exists in this world), or if he thinks, well, my way is better, but he really needs someone to talk sense into him because his ideas get progressively weirder over the season and letting him have such insane power with only people who worship him and a hexcore to talk to who validates all his weirdest ideas was a bad idea. Some humanities classes would also have helped, because while he understands what human suffering is like largely because of his own experiences, he doesn't understand people at all, and probably assumes what he wanted is what everyone else wants and also what they (and he) need (wrong on both counts).

Interestingly, when Viktor first brings up glorious evolution, he is still unwilling to go through with it (assuming it refers to using Vander to evolve himself, though I do think he also considered the healing he did for his followers glorious evolution), so I think he already had some of these ideas before he even died. Something that had absolutely nothing to do with evolution, but more with his own internalized ableism and believing he needed to fix himself to end his suffering/be worthy of love. He did want it at that point, he just wasn't willing to sacrifice someone else for it. He also only gave up on his hexcore research because it killed Sky. He cared it killed someone. He didn't care it turned his leg weird and purple and was willing to turn his entire body into that if it meant he was cured. (and I believe when he did sacrifice Vander, there was also no possibility of saving him anymore)

Anyway this got long but the conclusion is Viktor has no clue what he's talking about, I don't think he even knows what evolution is, and his entire ideology is shaped from his own internalized ableism and lack of understanding of humanity, and he slapped a cool catchphrase on top without knowing it actually means something else.

nothing viktor did was more peak engineer behavior than when he so confidently explained evolution wrong except for him confidently explaining evolution wrong while disagreeing with the guy who explained it correctly

[sturn5iolo]

DREAM MAKER & HEARTBREAKER

synopsis: chris had been ignoring you so you show up to a party looking for him, just for him to be with another girl.

pairing: frat boy! chris sturniolo x f!reader

warnings: drinking, angstish??, “no strings attached”relationship, not proofread

mellys note!!: this plot came up in my head while i listened to the song “moon river” by frank ocean… why?? idk? so enjoy

the sound of music blasted in your ears. you were at a frat party, mainly for chris. you knew he was going to be there. you and chris have been an off and on situationship, you knew you loved him. but did he love you?

you walked around trying to look for him, sparing a “hi” to anybody who came up to you but quickly walking away. you were so desperate to find chris because he had been ignoring you for a good few days and something in you made you feel weird. a pit in your stomach bothering you, telling you to look for him.

passing through all the drunken people who stench of alcohol and weed, you finally made it to the living room. your eyes wandered until it made it to the couch. there was chris.

but he wasn’t alone, a skinny brunette girl sat on his lap. her fingers ran through his hair, her other hand resting on his chest as he whispered something in her ear that caused her to laugh. you saw the way his lips tickled her ear, the way his hands stayed on her thighs and the way they laughed and conversed together.

jealousy started seeping out of you, but you stayed in place. your teeth dug into the insides of your cheek and your eyes watered. why were you so upset about this? you question in your head over and over.

you quickly pivot and start to go towards the kitchen counter. there you start to mix all types of drinks into a red solo cup, not even caring about how you will feel the next day. all that you could think about was chris and the random girl.

the alcohol went down your throat quickly and gave you a quick burning sensation. you winced at the taste but you just wanted the drunk feeling.

1 drink turned into 3 into 5 into too many you forgot to count. after taking probably your 9th cup, you hear someone talk to you. “think you’ve had enough?” a deep voice spoke, you look to your side, it was one of chris’ frat brothers. “ohhh heyyy! honestly no i think i need more.” you hiccup out.

before you can grab a cup, chris’ frat bro takes it away. “nope chris will kill me if i let you.” you roll your eyes, “ugh why should he care! he’s with that other girl.” the guy looks at you with his eyebrows furrowed and then chuckles, “damn girl your wasted.”

not even letting him say something else, you turn around and start walking away, not wanting to continue this conversation. somehow you made it outside, the cold wind hit you like the speed of light making you shiver a bit. you sit down on the curb of the sidewalk.

“need some company?” a familiar voice questioned you, chris. your roll your eyes once again and choose to ignore him. you hear him grunt as he sits next to you, “what do you want?” you slur. “well i heard your drunk and alone so i knew i had to find you.”

you twist your head and look at him. you haven’t seen him up close in a few days so you take in his features, and the way they glow by the moonlight. “whatever, go back to that girl you were with.” you whisper but he had still heard you. chris’ tongue glides over his teeth as he nods. “what you jealous?”

you scoff at him, “of course i was chris…how could you ignore me for days then go off flirting with her.” you say “we aren’t official..” chris tries defending himself.

at this point your speechless, you knew he was right so what’s the point on fighting back on this? you both go quiet not having anything else to say to each other.

you stand up very quickly, making you wobble a bit almost losing your balance. “welp im going to head back home! no point of having me here.” you quietly say the last part. chris stands up with you, “did you drive here yourself?” he questions you genuinely curious. you nod at him and try to walk away.

chris grabs your arm, “then no your not. you’re not driving back yourself.” you groan at him, “im not going anywhere with you?!” crossing your arms and standing in place. he rolls his eyes at you and bends his knees. you look at him confused until you feel yourself being lifted off the ground. the quick action made you dizzy, chris held you bridal style and started walking towards his car.

“put me down!” you whined out to him, but he ignored you. unlocking his car and putting you in the passenger seat. he reached over and grabbed the seatbelt buckling you in, “your so damn stubborn all the time jesus.”

[jeonscatalyst]

Whenever I see people scrambling to dismiss the possibility that Jimin and Jungkook might be more than friends by resorting to arguments like “They’re brothers” or “Jimin said Jungkook is like his brother,” I can’t help but feel perplexed.

It’s genuinely baffling to me because, what did you expect Jimin to say? “Jungkook is my lover”? The lack of awareness in such arguments is striking, and honestly a little disheartening especially when it’s clear that many of these people haven’t taken the time to understand even the basics of queer history, the reality of being closeted, or the necessity of concealing relationships to protect oneself and loved ones in the face of societal prejudice.

When people bring up these points, I find myself asking the question “When did Jimin and Jungkook officially come out as a couple?” The answer, of course, is they haven’t. So why would anyone expect them to act in ways that are only possible for people who are openly out? If our (Jikookers) speculations about them are correct, it’s likely they are still closeted and may even be hiding their relationship from close friends and family.

This opinion might be unpopular, especially among jikookers who believe that if Jimin and Jungkook are together, their families would undoubtedly know. But I don’t think it’s that simple. In my experience, coming out isn’t an easy or universal process. It’s deeply personal and often influenced by cultural, familial, and societal factors, particularly in environments where homophobia is pervasive. I’m not going to go into the nitty gritty of why I think their parents and families might not be looped in because for many, unless you’ve lived it, known someone who has, or experienced such societal pressures firsthand, it’s difficult to fully grasp the complexities involved……..So I truly don’t see them letting their parents and families in on things as easy as many people believe it would be.

I think Jimin and Jungkook present themselves to the world as they believe the world sees them: bandmates, friends, and “brothers” from the same town. This aligns with public expectations and offers them a layer of protection. So how else would people expect them to describe their relationship?

Some might argue that they could avoid using terms like “brother,” altogether but let’s be realistic here……it likely doesn’t bother them. They know they’re not actually brothers and probably don’t view each other in that way. What’s more, I doubt they have any desire to let the public into the deeply personal aspects of their lives. While there may be a part of them that wishes to be accepted and loved for who they truly are, they likely understand that this isn’t a viable option right now.

The fear of opening a Pandora’s box of judgment and backlash likely keeps them from revealing anything beyond the surface. If calling each other “brothers” or even something as absurd as “father and son” ensures the safety of their bond, they’ll do whatever it takes to protect themselves and their relationship. That, unfortunately is what closeting sometimes entails so before you rush into my inbox thinking you’ve got a gotcha moment, remember this.

I hope people come to realize that this situation is far more complex than it seems. It’s easy to oversimplify or underestimate the challenges Jimin and Jungkook and other closeted people in homophobic societies might face but it’s crucial to remember that not everyone shares the same privileges or cultural realities. Not every society or culture is as accepting as yours might be. Not everyone has the opportunity to live their truth openly and without fear. You may not understand their choices, and you might not even relate to their struggles, but that doesn’t give you the right to dismiss or minimize them simply because their experiences don’t mirror your own.

Empathy and understanding are essential. Respect the fact that their journey, whatever it may be, is shaped by circumstances most of us can’t begin to imagine.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Between the Holidays

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!neighbor!reader

Summary: Tim drops by the day after Christmas, and your family leads you to make an unplanned confession.

Warnings: fluff, meddling family members, OOC Tim

Word Count: 1.0k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Rules

“How?” you mumble as you pull wrapping paper shreds from your kitchen cabinets. “This is what I get for hosting.”

Your family is slowly waking on the morning after Christmas, the younger ones still enamored with their gifts, and the older members looking for something to keep them awake for another day of festivities. Everyone gathers in the living room to drink coffee and cocoa before the doorbell rings.

“Who is that?” your cousin closest in age to you asks.

“No idea. Breakfast is almost ready; I’ll be right back,” you reply.

Opening the door, you don’t expect to see your neighbor Tim.

“Good morning!” you greet with a smile. “How was your Christmas?”

“It was alright. Had to work, but we all went out for Chinese last night. How was yours?”

“Good, good. Nice to have everyone together again.”

“I brought you this,” Tim says, lifting a brown pie box from the bench beside your door. “Someone delivered over a hundred to the station, and I thought it was your favorite.”

Smiling, you read the flavor label. “It is my favorite. How did you remember that?”

“Who’s at the door?” your father calls.

You mouth an apology to Tim before asking, “We’re about to have breakfast, do you want to join us? At least let me send some home-cooked food home with you.”

“How can I argue with that?”

“Come on in.”

Tim steps into your doorway, and you close the door before leading him toward the kitchen.

“Who is this?” someone inquires. “Your boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?!” your father repeats incredulously.

“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend!” your cousin says. She moves closer to whisper, “Good job.”

“No,” you try to interrupt but get cut off by several family members simultaneously.

“How did you meet?” your grandparents wonder.

“Why weren’t you at Christmas yesterday?” someone else asks Tim.

“He probably has his own family,” your cousin suggests. “He could’ve brought them, though, we have room.”

“Why didn’t you tell us you were seeing someone?”

“How long have you been together? Have you discussed marriage, kids?”

“Is that pie?”

“What do you see in each other?”

“Stop!” you yell. “This is Tim. He is my neighbor, and if he was my boyfriend, you would have successfully scared him away already, so thank you all for that. Now, if you will please let me get him some food, I would appreciate it.”

“In my day, we didn’t cook for someone unless we intended to do it for the rest of our lives,” an older relative mumbles.

You lead Tim into the kitchen and out of their invasive sight. After you set the pie down, you drop your head against the fridge and sigh.

“I am so sorry,” you tell Tim. “Help yourself to whatever you want and feel free to go out the back door and jump the fence.”

“So, you’re telling me you don’t want to cook for me for the rest of our lives?” Tim asks.

You groan, and Tim lays his hand on your back. You lean into his touch, getting closer to him without thinking.

“Sweetheart!” someone calls. “We found your boy- your neighbor’s gifts under the tree!”

“Why are there so many- oh.” Your cousin walks into the kitchen with several presents in her arms but stops when she sees you standing close to Tim. “Maybe I’ll just leave these here.”

She sets them beside the pie and then returns to the living room, where their muffled conversation is still clearly about you and your handsome neighbor.

“You know, I was thinking about having them over next Christmas, but I think I’m done hosting for the rest of my life,” you tell Tim. “There are your presents, and I’ll pack up some food.”

“Why are there so many?” Tim asks, moving with you.

You shrug and answer, “I saw things that made me think of you, and I wanted you to know that you’re cared about, that you’re loved.”

Slowing your movements, you realize what you just said. Your family seems to fade away as you turn toward Tim. His brows are raised as if he expects you to say more.

“I didn’t tell them you were my boyfriend or that I have feelings for you,” you explain. “But I’m not going to lie to you and say I don’t.”

“I was expecting to just drop off the pie and go home,” Tim says.

“Yeah, well my family should have a shared PhD in making things awkward and ruining things.”

“Awkward, yes. Do you think anything is ruined?”

You put a lid on the glass storage bowl containing Tim’s breakfast before you face him. “I don’t think that’s my decision, considering I’m the one who essentially just admitted I’m in love with you.”

“Is breakfast ready?” your dad yells before saying something suspiciously like, “Ow! I was only asking.”

“How long is your family here?” Tim asks.

“They leave tomorrow afternoon. Please don’t tell me you can hear them at your place.”

“No, no, at least I don’t think so. But maybe you should come over after they leave, and we can make some plans for New Year’s Eve.”

You hesitate, then ask, “Are you saying you feel the same?”

“I’m saying that I’d rather show you.”

“I’ll be there. Enjoy your gifts and your breakfast and wish me luck.”

“You’ll be fine.”

You put Tim’s gifts and breakfast plate in a bag before you lead him back toward the door.

“I don’t buy that they’re neighbors,” your mom murmurs.

Tim stops and turns toward your family, who are all staring at him.

“Respectfully, she already told you that we’re neighbors and she doesn’t want to talk about it,” Tim reminds them. “When there is something to tell, it’s her decision about when and how to let you know. Enjoy the rest of your holiday.”

Hiding your smile, you close the door behind Tim. Your family drops the subject of Tim Bradford, at least in front of you, as you serve breakfast. Your holiday looks brighter, however, because Tim Bradford said you would call the shots when there was something between you. Not if, when. And starting tomorrow night, he has plans to show you what that means.

[i-hate-viktor]

This is probably gonna be a lot of yap

Before anyone replies or whatever I'm legit just stating my opinion it ain't that deep im not trying to argue or get mad at anyone, i respect op's opinions and everyone else's opinions and whatnot.

I was diagnosed with conduct disorder when I was younger blah blah all that shit I find it really annoying whenever these 13 year olds claim to have aspd

9 times out of 10 you need a conduct disorder diagnosis to be diagnosed with aspd, and even then, you can't be diagnosed til you're 18 + sometimes people grow out of it with age and maturity. I really can't tell if I'll grow out of it before I turn 18, but it just pmo when someone says they have a certain disorder

Aspd is very complex and it often just get waters down to "heh I commit crimes and be mean and manipulative to people". Which is all wrong. In fact, usually, people with aspd would *hide* those parts of them

Yes, aspd is common. For adults. Not edgy 13 year olds that think they gonna be the next columbine.

For did, I think these people are either:

A) faking lol

B) genuinely thinking they have did but it's probably something else like psychosis.

Another common pattern I see is the lanzastans always having schizophrenia or something.

"heh.... the government is after me...:) the FBI is going to kill me...:)))" lil bro nobody want you not even the FBI LMFAO

BPD Im really unsure about tbf

On one hand, it can just be hormones that these people are mistaking for bpd, or just that it's more common than youd think it is (correct me if I'm wrong, I haven't done my bpd research in like a year)

Another thing, its not ***just*** the TCC that has this issue. Ive been in other communities that also have this issue, im pretty sure this would exist in just about every community. Whether its with the same disorders, or different ones. People are mentally ill and people just wanna be mentally ill

Anyways, in conclusion, people are just edgy, but, sometimes, people actually have those issues and because they are mentally ill they will sympathize with other mentally ill people (whether it be with people inside of this community or the criminals themselves). Mental illness is different for everyone and people will experience different things and will make mistakes, it's a human thing.

Though if they're purposely trying to pretend to be mentally ill for attention or something then they're just lame lol plain and simple

I also believe that you shouldn't straight up claim you have a mental illness if you have no diagnosis or whatnot; it's alright to think about it, but self diagnosing is not the best idea; you can become biased to yourself which blurs the lines of "do I or dont i have this mental illness"

If im wrong with any of this im sorry please correct me im vad at expressing my thoughts haha

Thank you for listening to my podcast I'll see you guys next episode

Noticed that Alot of the people in the tcc have ASPD , DID and sometimes BPD .

[lau219]

Intuition

Part 2

Previous part here

*No disrespect is meant toward anyone with a PhD. The way it’s discussed in this chapter is just a point of view of the characters.*

…………………………………………………………………………….

Forty-five minutes later, and Tom had concluded the little tour of the lab he’d given Y/N, getting her familiar with the layout of the place and the general organization of where all the equipment was kept.

She’d remained pretty quiet, letting Tom talk as he showed her around, and she’d smiled to herself multiple times when it was obvious he was slightly nervous. Not in a shy way, but just in that it was clear he wasn’t used to having anyone to work with other than Margaret.

With every stop they made around the room, he kept realizing there were additional things he forgot to mention, and so Tom would stutter an apology of interjection for himself to Y/N as he remembered something and then backtracked to show it to her. She’d never heard someone interrupt themselves so many times before in her life.

“Oh, uh, and this…”, “Sorry, uh, I forgot, there’s also…”, “Oh, yeah, uh, and then…”

It was so cute, and while she was nervous herself, Y/N just kept thinking how amusing it was that this poor man wouldn’t ever win any contests for being smooth or suave, despite the fact that he’d definitely win in the looks category. But this was the most she’d ever heard him talk, and the most enthusiastic she’d ever seen him get about something, and it was surprising yet nice to see him like this. Every time he showed her something, Y/N nodded quietly and smiled, softly asking the occasional question and carefully following where he led her.

When they’d eventually made it back to the table Tom had been sitting at when Y/N had first arrived, he stopped next to it and met her eyes once more. They’d met eyes multiple times as he’d shown her around, and despite how moronic he knew he’d probably sounded (since when did he become so forgetful or unable to say a single sentence without inserting “uh” a million times?), she’d smiled at him sweetly each time, just as she was doing right now. It was obvious she was nervous, too, clearly feeling timid and staying pretty quiet, trying not to talk too much and stepping carefully through the room, but she was still somehow emanating her warm charm and listening to Tom with interest.

“That’s pretty much it,” Tom concluded as he laid a hand along the back of the chair at the table. “We just, uh, ya’ know, grab whatever stuff we think we’re gonna need for any given, uh…situation, and then take it from there.”

Nodding, Y/N replied.

“How often do you and Dr. Matheson go out to look into these…situations?” she asked, smiling as she used the term he’d used, since she had no idea how else to label what they did.

Tom gave a small exhale of a laugh and another half smile as he answered, giving a casual shrug of his shoulders.

“It just depends on how many people reach out to Margaret at any given time, but we’re usually always working on at least one case. But with her most recent interview on TV last month, we’ve gotten a big surge of requests, with people asking that we come and investigate either something or someone.”

There were certainly more questions Y/N had about Dr. Matheson and her work that she wanted to ask Tom, but she knew that right now wasn’t the time. She had a lot of questions for Tom about his own involvement in all this as well, but seeing as this was the first time he’d ever even spoken to her, Y/N wasn’t going to push it. Instead, after nodding again, Y/N’s eyes drifted over Tom’s shoulder to the table behind him, and she nodded her head towards the remaining stuff he’d left out before he’d begun showing her around.

“What were you working on over there earlier?” she asked, her eyes traveling back from the table to Tom. “Those track spools look like they’re from one of those huge tape recorder things.”

“Oh, yeah,” Tom replied, raising his brows momentarily as he quickly looked over his shoulder at the table and then back to Y/N. “They are. I took them off the machine to make some adjustments to it.”

“Can I see?” Y/N asked cautiously, her brows raising in shy curiosity.

“What?” Tom replied. “You mean the machine?”

“Yeah,” Y/N blushed. “I mean, sorry, you don’t have to show me. I was just curious.”

Again, Tom quickly reacted, as he didn’t mean to imply he wasn’t willing to show her.

“No, no,” he replied. “It’s fine.”

He really needed to stop being such an idiot, he thought to himself.

Turning, he reached for the piece of the machine he’d removed to work on. Grabbing it, he turned back around toward Y/N and held it out as he spoke.

“This is the part of the machine that’s supposed to pick up sound waves that are undetectable to human ears. But we’re looking to make it even more sensitive, and so I’m adding a small amplifier to it.”

“Wow, that’s so cool,” Y/N said as she reached out and took the piece Tom was offering her. Carefully, she turned it over in her hand, and then laughed to herself as she saw all the little microchips and wires on it.

Tom nearly smiled and raised his own brows in question as Y/N looked up at met his eyes.

“I don’t know how anyone even understands how this kind of thing works, let alone is knowledgeable enough to make adjustments to it,” she gave another little self-deprecating laugh. “I can’t even figure out the right cords to plug into which ports between my TV and my DVD player.”

At that, Tom fully smiled and released a laugh himself, and it only had Y/N smiling even bigger. So this man was capable of laughing? She never thought she’d see the day.

“It’s really not that complicated,” Tom said, still smiling.

“Oh sure, that’s easy for you to say,” Y/N lightly joked. “But didn’t Dr. Matheson say on the first day that one of your degrees is in computer engineering?”

Surprised that Y/N had remembered that fact about him, Tom replied with another half-smile.

“Most physicists have two degrees,” he reasoned with a shrug of his shoulders.

Smiling again, Y/N began to shake her head, but then realization clearly dawned on her as her eyes suddenly widened and then just as quickly, she furrowed her brow in questioning.

“Wait, you’re a physicist? Dr. Matheson never mentioned that. So you must…” she held Tom’s eyes. “So you have a PhD then, don’t you?”

Tom had an almost guilty expression on his face as he replied.

“Uhh…yeah.”

Y/N shook her head again.

“Why haven’t you ever mentioned that in class? And why don’t you have people call you ‘doctor’? Even Dr. Matheson refers to you as ‘Mr. Buckley.’ Why?”

Even though Y/N was looking at him in awe and not judgement, Tom still suddenly felt guilty.

“It’s just…it’s really not a big deal,” he replied with another shake of his head and shrug of his shoulders. “I never really felt like the degree warranted that title for me. I just know physics, ya’ know? But the ‘doctor’ title isn’t really anything that matters.”

After hearing Tom’s explanation, Y/N smiled a smile of awed disbelief and scoffed, shaking her head.

“You’re too modest,” she said. “Most anyone with any kind of degree that earned them the title of ‘doctor’ would be milking that for all it’s worth.”

Releasing another laugh, Tom shrugged his shoulders yet again, and he took the machine piece back from Y/N that she had held back out to him.

“It’s just not a big deal, ya’ know?” he repeated.

Y/N shook her head again.

“Well, I hope I’ll still be helpful to you and Dr. Matheson without any knowledge on this kind of thing,” she said as she gestured to the machine piece.

Tom smiled again.

“Don’t worry, there’s a lot of stuff we do that doesn’t involve any of this,” he held up the piece.

“Ok, good,” Y/N grinned, “because, like I said, I can’t even get my DVD player to work.”

“Did you try just turning it off and on again?” Tom joked, surprising himself. Where had that come from?

Y/N giggled at his joke, very pleasantly surprised to see that he perhaps had a personality after all.

Enjoying the sound of her laugh, Tom just looked at her for a moment, her pretty smile incredibly distracting. Y/N was looking back at him, admiring those eyes of his briefly before they each realized what they were doing and things suddenly became awkward.

As Y/N blushed, Tom shifted and cleared his throat, but they were both saved from anymore nervous awkwardness when Tom’s phone suddenly dinged again.

“Uh…” turning to retrieve his phone off the table, Tom quickly looked to read the newest text Margaret had sent him, and after reading it, he looked at Y/N once more.

“Margaret’s wondering if you can come by again on Thursday at the same time,” he said. “Then she’ll fill us in on what she has lined up for the next case.”

“Oh, um, I think that should be fine, let me just check…”

Pulling her bag from her back to over her shoulder, Y/N opened it and pulled out her calendar, quickly glancing at it.

“Yeah, that should be just fine,” she nodded, looking back up at Tom. “Should I just meet you here again?”

“Yeah,” Tom replied. “Margaret will be coming from across campus, so she may be a few minutes late, but I’ll be here.”

“Ok, great,” Y/N replied. Then she shifted her bag over her shoulder again before continuing. “Well, thanks for showing me around today. It was really interesting.”

Tom nodded and gave her that half smile.

“Of course, no problem.”

“Ok, well...I guess I’ll see you on Thursday then?”

Tom nodded.

“I’ll be here,” he confirmed.

They looked at each other once more, and Y/N spoke a final time on her way out of the lab.

“See you then…doctor,” she gently teased. And when Tom heard her, his smile was suddenly as wide as her own, which Y/N caught a glimpse of just before she fully turned around and then walked out of sight.

@nyxxie-pooh @xsweetcatastrophe @allie131313 @empatheticlove @febris-amatoria

@meister95 @teawonderfultea-blog1 @alltoowellbeneaththemangotree @aphroditeslover11 @galactict3a

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@sasha28x @bleakmidwinter00

[rooksunday]

fluffcember day twenty seven: family gathering

jaster rubbed his face, as if the action might somehow aid his comprehension. it didn’t. with a sigh, he levelled his best buir look at jango. he’d had a lot of practice with the look over the years, but jango had seemed to settle down lately, as he focused on leading his pack of grunts out in the galaxy. the story he’d just garbled out, however, indicated jaster was going to have to get back into practice with alacrity.

at jaster’s sigh, jango began to protest.

“buir—!“

“just… one more minute, jango.”

jaster settled back into his seat at the head of the dining table, where he’d been enjoying his caf and concord dawn’s early morning, before jango had tumbled in already babbling at hyperspace speeds as if finding the right words would forestall any pointed questions.

that had most assuredly not been the case. witness: jaster’s incipient headache.

jaster took a fortifying sip of caf. he was mand’alor. he was a buir. he could manage whatever this was.

his gaze slid from jango to their enraptured audience, who were clearly both fascinated and baffled by the byplay occurring in jaster’s kitchen, and he forced himself to be honest. he could probably manage whatever this was.

jaster returned his attention to jango. “tell me again, slowly this time, like i’m an old man who has dealt with several concussions in his life, who are these very familiar-looking young men?”

the group of incredibly familiar faces, arranged in loose formation behind jango, shuffled almost as one. jaster had counted ten visitors and then given up; the door that led outside remained open and he could see more young men—and possibly young women and young folk of various genders—milling about on his lawn like soldiers missing a battlefield. they all wore the same red and blue scrubs, and there were more than ten of them. many more than ten.

jango, at the head of the inside group, had an expression on his face that said he had picked his fight and would be fighting it whether an enemy appeared or not. alas, he had learnt that from jaster.

“they’ve got nowhere else to go, buir, and—“

“not the question i asked,” jaster said mildly.

“there was a-an explosion, sir,” said the young man at jango’s right shoulder, who had a fresh-looking scar hooked around his eye.

he’ll need bacta for that.

“force nonsense,” muttered one of his companions derisively, this one with grey peppered in their hair.

“it was still an explosion—“

“that answers the ‘how’, i suppose, but i did ask ‘who’,” jaster reminded them. he addressed his question to the scarred figure at jango’s right shoulder. “who are you?”

the grey-haired figure bristled but the scarred one came to smart attention and looked over jaster’s shoulder like a trained warrior twice his apparent age.

“i’m cc-2224, sir!”

before jaster’s stomach could finish twisting at the unit number, the grey-haired figure snapped, “he’s cody. i’m fox. that’s jango fett.”

jango started to say, “why’d you say my name like that—“

“fox, don’t—“

fox dodged cody’s swipe and prowled forward to frown down at jaster. “who are you?”

with carefully relaxed motions, jaster refilled his mug from the cafetière, not missing fox’s keen attention on the process, and took a sip. then he smiled, the way he did when someone was provably wrong about mandalorian history.

“i’m jaster mereel, and i’m not entirely sure how, but i do believe i’m your ba’buir.”

jaster lifted his comm to take a holo of fox’s poleaxed expression, framing cody’s laughing face and jango’s wide-eyed resignation in the background. yep, that would make the perfect cover image for the new family album.

[skittlestrash]

1 is confusing to me but usually not super annoying to me, 2 is... agree to disagree on that one ;D but 3?? YES. just as pre-s2 I got...uncomfortable. with how many people seemed to want to ~butch up~ stede (lolol as if they stopped since, sigh), I remain...uncomfortable. with how many people seem to want to ~femme up~ ed. much for the same reasons as in this post!

and like, I love the cake toppers for multiple reasons (and I do think they'd both love to marry each other, also for multiple reasons), but the way it caused everyone to leap to ED WANTS TO ONLY EVER WEAR PRETTY FRILLY DRESSES AND BE A PILLOW PRINCESS is...weird.

idk, man. I'm Very Used To fandoms doing this whole reducing a character to one or two things nonsense, I really am, but it never gets less annoying. let them BOTH love soft things at the same time, even! they don't have to trade off! but also, let them BOTH enjoy different things even if they aren't all soft, because they are complex beings!

I've complained before about how people treat ed like their own personal dress up doll (which is not a bad thing altogether! what else is fanart when it comes down to it!) and put him in like, couture and shit, then have stede with him in the most Boring Man Outfit ever, and like, did you watch the show??

ugh sorry, I know this post isn't about stede, but the issues seem to run parallel, as if, like I said, people seem to think only one of them can be a thing at a time. it's extremely frustrating, and also I am always scared to say anything because of yucking someone's yum and/or being called some flavor of phobic?? when really I just want them to be able to have all their facets and quirks and ridiculousness because as djenks said, there's more than one way to be a man!!

and then on top of all of that, there's the racism part 🙃 I kinda feel like some people just went too far in the opposite direction of the Scary Brown Man depiction?? and like, the show is RIGHT THERE to show you how to do it right, but whatever I guess.

(this also probably connects to making the white guy more ~manly in response, sigh, but I am not smart enough to do any more words and probably fucked everything up in this ramble as it is!! so I'm gonna shut up.)

an incomplete list of terrible but extremely popular Our Flag Means Death takes that I would like to never see again please

(and I do mean popular, as in, lots of people seem to think they're canon, to the point where I feel slightly insane and like I was watching a different show to everyone else)

1. Ed's mum was loving and nice and supportive, if hampered by her bad situation

this comes up more in fic than analysis, to be fair, but good god, what show were some of you watching? this isn't to vilify her, because yeah, she's clearly a product of colonialism, white christian supremacy, and domestic abuse, but like. that doesn't make how she raised Ed good. clearly she was trying to keep him safe, but "we don't deserve nice things", and especially "it's not up to us, it's up to god", speaks to me of someone who squashes down any ambition on her son's part, has fully bought into the lies of christian colonialism, and tries to pass them down to her son.

as does happen in colonised communities, particularly among older generations. I know us white people like to think that every indigenous person is a perfect left-wing anti-imperial activist, but that's simply not the case, and Ed's mum is so clearly an example of an older conservative christian indigenous parent who had to believe the lies told by their coloniser in order to survive, but is now passing on that trauma to their children. and I just...

if I read one more fic where Ed's mum is a perfect loving supportive angel who always believed in her kid and always supported and protected him, I'm gonna scream. yes, it's sweet, and it's fun to sometimes veer from canon and give your blorbo nice things, but it's still veering from canon. and yet, I see very few people acknowledge that, or actually talk about the nuances of Ed's mother, and how she definitely tried to protect him, but was far from sweet, doting, and unconditionally supportive.

2. Ed's loving look when Stede is picking food from his beard in 1x07

like most of these things, I enjoyed it as a joke or exaggeration at first, until I realised that people were actually being serious. but every time I watch that scene, I see Ed looking absently-mindedly over Stede's shoulder, because a) that's what you do when someone leans in to pick something off you, and b) surely the point of the scene is that they're so comfortable and easy together that they don't notice the intimacy of what they're doing, but Lucius, an outside observer, thinks it's obvious. right?? I can't be the only one seeing it???

[sigh]

anyway. finally, the really really big one:

3. Ed is a soft uwu babygirl princess femme bottom sub who loves her cat collar and is teaching Stede how to dom him in the "say you're the captain" scene

I mean, there's not much to say except to link to duke's absolutely phenomenal twitter thread about "how the 'babygirlfication' and infantilization of ofmd ed teach is an extension of racist perceptions of indigenous men being inherently violent and thus needing to be emasculated to be considered sympathetic"

but especially That One Fucking Scene, good lord. talk about taking shit out of context. everyone looked at a slowed-down gif of one shot in the trailer and cried "babygirl!! he's such a simp, he just wants to be dommed!!", when actually that scene is about how a) Stede is cringefail and terrible at being a typical harsh, commanding pirate, and b) Ed is lovingly embarrassed by this. he encourages Stede to assert himself (and give Ed something to do during his probation/help him make amends with the crew), but like. normally. he's acting perfectly normal in that scene, and mostly annoyed by the outfit and embarrassed by how badly Stede fails. but just because he's sitting down while Stede is standing, and he happens to take a breath in that one shot (because, you know, people breathe sometimes), everyone's doubled down on their "submissive babygirl" bullshit, and I can't get the fuck away from it.

which - listen, it's fun for me, too! it's fun to explore exaggerated aspects of a character, it's fun to read/write/draw that angle in smut, I get it! but I keep seeing people keep claim it's literally canon, and I cannot stress enough that that is Straight Up False. for the love of god, please just watch the show without your (potentially kinda racist) bias glasses on, and remember to treat the characters with respect instead of projecting onto their every interaction a shallow dom/sub binary just because you find it hot.

Our Flag is a show very specifically about masculinity, and what it means to be a man; how assumptions about that can harm and restrict men; and how men can grow beyond them. it's a nuanced and sympathetic examination of this. the whole point is that Ed is allowed to like nice fabrics and be tired of violent piracy and still be a man. the point is that two men fall in love - equal, honest, sincere love - and are still men, still exactly who they are.

(on that note, insisting that Ed is canonically trans or femme because of these things often ends up just leaning into gendered stereotypes: men are harsh and active and dominant, and women are soft and passive and submissive, and if Ed's not the former, he must be the latter, right? it also tends to hetero-ify the central relationship, casting Stede as "the boy" and Ed as "the girl", needing one to be masc and one femme. not always, and again, I understand and have enjoyed transformative works that take those elements and run with them, and explore what the story could be like if Ed were trans/nb/etc - but it's still a transformative interpretation. it's not canon.)

relatedly: those fucking wedding toppers! it seemed blatantly obvious to me that half the point of those scenes was that Ed is distraught and blaming himself for Stede leaving because he wasn't the ideal partner. it's his entire arc for the first half of season 2! Ed hates himself and believes there's something wrong about him that makes him unlovable. so he keeps and then discards the wedding toppers, painting himself onto one of them, because he's projecting himself onto an image of ideal/successful romantic love that he thinks Stede wants, and in which he doesn't fit. he's trying to mould himself into someone else to make himself lovable, not realising that Stede already loves him for himself.

so it's important to the whole narrative that Ed's yearning for/projection onto the wedding toppers is false, and born from his insecurity. he gets drunk, and play-acts a stereotypical image of romantic happiness into which he doesn't fit, but real love looks nothing like that, because real love isn't found in stifling hegemonic cultural structures, but honest, emotional connections between people allowed to be their whole, vulnerable selves. Stede is not like the groom, and Ed is not like the bride, because they shouldn't have to be. Ed should not (and does not) have to warp himself into a demure bride in order to be worthy of love: he's already lovable and loved exactly as he is! that's the point!! of the scene!!!!!!

like, it's important that the groom figure isn't actually like Stede, either. yes, it's blond and has a nice, peach-coloured suit, but a) Stede was very specifically unhappy in the posh, heterosexual, married state the figures represent, and b) Stede by this point looks nothing like that figurine. it's directly contrasted with the image of him in the rowboat, scruffy and plain and earnestly in love, rather than fancy, cold ceramic.

[EDIT 29/12/24: I ended up writing a whole Twitter essay about the wedding cake toppers that I then gussied up for Tumblr; so if you want a clearer, more substantial, and better supported argument about those, check that out!]

but no, I have to wade through swathes of art and fic and meta about how badly Ed wants to be a sweet little demure kitty princess, how he wants a wedding night and a ring to prove he's Stede's property, and acting as if this is somehow canon, because people on the internet have zero reading comprehension and are scared of brown men.

the whole point of Our Flag is that you don't need to compress yourself into prescribed social roles, and in fact, doing so will only make you miserable; and that racist, patriarchal, colonial institutions should be resisted and dismantled at every opportunity.

so tell me again why the ultimate message is that Ed and Stede should get married under an arch in front of an altar and their lined-up friends, with flowers and rice falling around them, all dressed in white, one in a suit and one in a dress, with rings and a kiss and a honeymoon after, before they move into a detached house with a yard and a fence and re-adopt the kids that Stede abandoned? and this isn't about promises, fidelity, or even monogamy - I'm specifically talking about everyone in this fandom who seems to think that the ultimate goal is the most stereotypical 20th century cisheteropatriarchal christian wedding, but with the name "matelotage" slapped on top, as if that takes away all of the underlying baggage.

just - I know we're all meant to hate men and masculinity and yadda yadda yadda, but actually, to be earnest for a second, men deserve respect too, because all people and all genders do. and two men are allowed to be in a relationship and still both be men - complex men, with their own, layered relationships to their gender - without having to fall into neatly-arranged dom/sub masc/femme roles, or seal the deal with a hegemonically-approved ceremony.

so please, stop reducing an indigenous lead character to a caricature of a femme uwu princess bottom just because he has long hair, wore a robe once, and you're too scared of brown men to imagine him with proper agency. and then please, for the love of god, stop claiming that that interpretation is canon.

[retromimic]

re: Astarion's age (and others)

I made a random post last week about Astarion's age and I have been thinking about it since.

I also realized that we do have other characters we can use to have a better idea of timelines and stuff.

And by other characters I mean Jaheira and Halsin.

More under the cut, tl;dr at the end

Jaheira

Jaheira is from the first two Baldur's Gate games, which both take place over 100 years before BG3 (1368 and 1369, so 123 before BG3, which is in 1492).

She's a half-elf, who age pretty much the same as human, but live longer, so she probably was in her 20's or early 30's in the first games, which would make her about 150 years old in BG3. This makes sense with her appearance, as half-elves live for about 180 years.

Note: Based on appearance only, it's possible Jaheira was older in the first games, but considering they were released in 1998 and 2000, I highly doubt they made the hot half elf lady an actual middle-age woman lmao

Side note: Minsc

Minsc is a human and also from the first two games, but there is a canon reason why he's still alive and doesn't look like he got older like Jaheira did. iykyk

Halsin

He just straight up says he's 350 years old. He's an elf.

He also does look old, but not that old.

Shadowheart

We know she is at least 40 years old (but not much older), and she doesn't look too old. It's subjective but to me she looks like a human late 20's, early 30's (I do think she looks older than Jaheira did in the first two games, but graphic quality and time does affect that). She's a half-elf, so that also checks out.

Recap so far:

Half-elves:

Live for about 180 years

40's: young and soft

150's: Mommy™

Elves:

Live for a long time (in game: at least 350 years, in DnD lore: about 700 years)

350's: Daddy™

Now onto the baby

Astarion

The information can be conflicting, so I'll try to break it down.

The tombstone

This is where it gets complicated because not only is it hard to read, but also is kind of contradictory.

It's written in the Thorass alphabet.

The initial dates are the easiest to read:

229 - 268 DR

Which would mean he was 39 years old when he died. Which a lot of people find it a bit hard to believe considering he looks much older, especially if you compare him to Shadowheart, who's not only older, but also only a half-elf.

I'll come back to it later.

What makes the tombstone complicated is the date Astarion adds. They are hard to read, the first one is barely readable and the numbers 5, 6, 7 and 9 can be easily mistaken for one another when it's someone who just had the most emotional moment of his life carving it in stone with a dagger.

The general consensus from what I've seen has been that it's 498 and that the dates on the tombstone are omitting the 1 (so the dates would actually be 1229, 1268 and 1498 DR), or that Larian made a mistake and should have made the dates in NR, not DR (which would bring the dates to 1261 and 1300 for his birth/death)

Both options have flaws because of the date Astarion writes should either read 492 (omitting the 1) or 460 (NR instead of DR). Neither are really plausible because the last number really doesn't look neither like a 2 or a 0.

The first option would also mean that Astarion died 230 years ago, which we know is not true. A lot of things in-game (not just Astarion) confirms it.

The second option would place his death 192 years ago, which is the most plausible.

But then how to explain the error in the date he adds?

Either he fucked up and doesn't know what year it is.

Or the first number is actually a 2, and he wrote 268, which is the year he died. We'll go with this one.

So, conclusion? Astarion was 39 years old when he died, 192 years ago, making him now 231 years old.

Physical appearance

Now, onto his look.

As mentioned earlier, Astarion doesn't look like he's younger than 40-something half-elf, so some people think the tombstone might be reading 129, giving him an extra 100 years at death, which would make more sense, but there is clearly more than just one dot on that first number, and there is a more plausible reason for him looking so old:

Vampire spawn appeared as they did in life, though their features were hardened and appeared predatory.

Source: Forgotten Realms Wiki

Add to that nearly 200 years of torture? That would make a man look a couple decades older.

And it's not really hard to imagine he was 39 years old at death when you see him, mostly post-Cazador, with softer expressions. (There is posts about it on here, sorry I can't link)

There is one last argument against this, which is the fact that elves reach "adulthood" at around 100 yeas old, and that Astarion already had a job and everything when he died.

But that's really easy to explain;

Elves physically reach adulthood at the same rate as humans, but their concept of adulthood is different, which is why "socially" they are considered adults only much later.

But also, this is socially, and socially, Astarion grew up in Baldur's Gate, a multi-cultural city, so he didn't grow up with elven mentality. Him having a job at 39 years old is very much plausible.

SO.

TL;DR:

Astarion was still pretty much a child when he died at 39 years old, 192 years ago.

[skrunksthatwunk]

you go to a lesbian blog and find it says women only!! no men allowed!!! and go oh! excuse me, um, what about other lesbians? plenty of lesbians are genderqueer... and they go well, okay, go fuck yourself tim chop off your sweaty dick and stop calling yourself a lesbian. you do not have a dick, actually. you think about that fact often, even though it does you no good. you do not tell this person that.

you go to another lesbian blog and it says women only and you try again, and this time they change it to wlw + nblw only (non-men who love non-men :D). and you'll say hey i appreciate that but gender's not really that cut and dry for a lot of people. someone could be both a man and nonbinary, for instance. i just worry that you're looking at nonbinary as a generic third gender, or an extension of womanhood. i mean yeah you include nblw in your tags but all your posts are about pussy-havers exclusively. what's with that? and they say go fuck yourself you pervy man pretending to be a lesbian. you tried to sneak in but i won't let you.

so you go to a lesbian blog with a dozen or so posts about queer people needing to be more weird about it and you sigh in relief. but you still see the men dni. that's odd. hoping for the best, you say hey! i know you mean well but please maybe don't put men dni at the end of the lovely posts on your lesbian blog bc some lesbians are men. and they'll be like ok!! well you're allowed ;) and you say no that's not. no. some men are lesbians not just me. you think about your own dicklessness and wonder if that's why you were given entry. and you add that even if male lesbians are allowed, there's no indication of that. how would anyone know without asking? and they're like ohh gotcha gotcha well men dni + this is for sapphics only!! and you'll be like ok well that treats the concepts of men and sapphics as mutually exclusive identities and i just told you that's not true and you agreed with me so.. i don't think that solves our problem. and they're like. ok. fine. men dni but genderfluid and multigender people are allowed! and you're like no see that's. that's still the same thing.. you're saying the same thing just with different words. if you don't want men to interact but you're fine with multigender/genderfluid/etc ppl interacting then you either don't see them as Real Men (because they don't reach a standard of Full Manhood) or Complete Men (because they're only Part-Time Men), both of which suggest that they are, in some way, not men or less-than men, which is invalidating and defeats the point of the exception in the first place (accommodation) OR that you don't really mean the dni which is confusing and inconsistent and makes guydykes feel weird and uncomfortable and excluded from the lesbian space you're trying to cultivate. and they're like um. ok. so. cishet men dni? and you're like well i think that makes more sense, but what if someone identifies as both a cishet man and a sapphic? again, if we're trying to accommodate the genderfucky populace then that has to be a possibility that is considered. and they say god you people are never happy. what do you want me to do? what am i supposed to say to keep the right men out? and you pause. you empathize with the need for a space free from dudes trying to fuck you straight and feminine. dudes who watch lesbian porn and joke about what they'd do if they were allowed into girls locker rooms. who look at you like a piece of meat, and like someone who looks at women like pieces of meat in the same way he does. you get it. you know. you want a space where you can be sapphic, too. that's why you came to these blogs in the first place. you brace yourself and you say well i don't know that there are "right men" to keep out. i don't know that there's any single label that would accomplish whatever it is you're trying to accomplish. you could go for "sapphics only" or "queers only" and i think that might be the closest thing to what you want, but it's never going to be perfect. creating any exclusive space is going to shut out people you didn't account for, and the broader the label, the more people will be shut out that you didn't want to shut out. and what about people who don't know if they're allowed? what of questioning transbians, where are they supposed to go? and, frankly, i think i might rather my dykey posts get read and appreciated by a gay guy who sees me as a man than a woman who only sees me as a sacred womb, pure from male perversions or violence or whatever. i think community might just be more complex than a dni can handle. and they look at you and say i don't want to not have a dni. i think you're too permissive. you can't just "what about" or microlabel your way into everything. go fuck yourself, i bet you're not even a lesbian anyway. go find a real problem to get mad about.

you go to a lesbian blog. you ignore the men dni because you know you probably don't even count to them. or maybe you do count and, out of respect for your manhood, they'd shun you accordingly. you try to feel okay about that. you scroll past dozens of posts about mediocre men and gagging at straight friends' boyfriends and how gross and undeserving men are of the beautiful women they couple up with and how all women should be gay so they can get treated right and and and and and. you finally find a post about curling into someone you love and feeling at peace and try to lose yourself in it. you know that feeling is what unites you, what makes you belong. you try to focus on it. you think about carding your hands through a butch's hair or lacing fingers with a femme and feeling warm and loved and more yourself than you ever have before. like this is who you're meant to be. you read about lesboys and butch boytoys and genderfucky dykes and big hairy deep-voiced wonderful women (like you want to be someday, like you wish you could make yourself) and you try to ignore the men dni underneath each and every post. and you daydream about meeting someone kind and earnest at a lesbian bar even though you don't think any such bars exist within three states of you and you can't drink and don't want to drink because you need to be in control of yourself at all times so you don't fuck up like you're always about to and here in the nonexistent lesbian bar you feel wanted and safe and in good company. you picture your ideal, happiest self. it is a mistake. ideal-you has a goatee. not the mascara one you smear on and call drag even though you know it's not drag, not really, the beard you call drag because you think everyone would look at you sadly if you told them it was just to pretend you had something out of your reach. a beard that's soft and that you grew and that cannot be smudged away if you get too comfortable with it. the dream shatters. your people pull away from you, their scoffs mixing with the mind-numbing gay girl bedroom pop you learned to settle for just to have something that almost resembled you, they all pull away and turn their backs and do not look at you. you're too close to being a man now, even though you're the same amount of man as before. and they know you're not supposed to interact with men, not as you would with dykes, at least. and it sours. it's all your imagination, all in your head, but it sours.

you sigh. you think about how small you are. how short, how narrow, how feeble. how your voice pitches up when you talk to strangers because it's easier to speak quietly when it carries more, and because you're nervous. because it's a chore to talk, like everything is. you think about testosterone. you think about how your family would look at you, the questions they would ask, your answers they would only pretend to accept. the uncomfortable glances and whispered questions they'd try to hide from you. you think about how small you are, and how small you will always be. how you don't know of a way to fix it, but even if there was one, no one would want you anymore. you'd be the only one thinking it made you a cooler dyke. you think about how you don't even want a T-voice all the time, how you'll never be able to switch it at will, because you don't know how and can't bring yourself to figure it out. you think about how your throat closes around every hint of your own attraction. how wanting is perverse, how wanting is invasive, how wanting is embarrassing and too vulnerable so it must stay anonymous, as an online witness, and how you can barely manage to form or maintain friendships because your brain makes you pull away, always spinning out and struggling to recover from the simplest of interactions. how they'll all leave you and you won't chase after them at all and how that will hurt them. how stuck you get. how it looks like nothing's holding you back, how that frustrates everyone who thought you were going to be more than you were. the people you love who understand except when it comes to being ghosted, being shut out. how you don't want to hurt them. how you can't tell them that because you're stuck. how you turn to stone when touched, how you never reach out, how you lose your speech and can't look at people, how your autism is fun and sexy until it becomes real and you never see them anymore, how much you longed for someone who knew everything without you having to explain, and who loved you anyway. how unreasonable you know that is to expect of anyone. you think about that not-even-real lesbian bar. you think about how you still can't drive. how you can't leave your home on your own, without dragging somebody into helping you. how you can't leave your body. how you can't leave your manhood behind.

you think about finding another lesbian blog and ignoring everything. about skimming it for the parts you can juice some meaning from. the parts men ignore and don't understand, and how typical of you it is to do so. or the parts where you're not welcome and you should accept that, because it's for lesbians only. how you are a lesbian anyway. how you're meant to choose lesbian or man, how each is a betrayal of some kind to yourself or your people, your family, your lovely strangers, your rare friendly acquaintances. about the parts that tell you you're not wanted, that you're ugly and lazy and gross and insert yourself everywhere without even asking. about the parts that tell you you are hated, and how lesbians are above it all by rejecting men. how lesbians are each blessed miracles. about the parts that say you should be ashamed of being whatever twisted confused freak you are, of everything, of looking and wanting or not looking or not wanting, of picking and choosing instead of taking it all in with a smile. after all, shouldn't you take it? or is your ego too fragile, as men's so often are? aren't you tired? good. we're not here for your consumption. and we sure as hell don't want your company or "community" or whatever. didn't you read the sign? no boys allowed. and if you want to come in you have to make up your mind. as if you haven't told them the only answer you have. you're both. you're both.

you know you broke the rule by interacting.

but it gets lonely sometimes. you wonder if they know.

[altruistic-meme]

back on my bullshit: looking through and making edits to my doc full of Issues I Have That Haven't Ever Been Looked Into for the doctor. which may prove to be futile but i will not think to bring any of this up + will absolutely try and downplay it if i do not do this.

i still keep joking that i will hand them the papers and go "pick one and we can start there" as well as threatening to walk out if they so much as breathe the word "asthma" to me. hopefully i can actually do these things at the appointment.

and i know. i know that doctors hate it when you present possible diagnoses and that you should let them do it themselves but like. you don't understand. i have had 22 years of not having anything done when i had a health concern, to the point where i stopped even realizing that things were concerning until someone else pointed out to me that it may be a problem.

so im coming armed and prepared and if the doctor refuses to work with me like im an actual person, then i will leave and i will ask for a different doctor. rinse and repeat until i find someone who will actually help me.

[running-in-the-dark]

my niece is staying with us for the whole weekend for the first time. until now it's always been one night only, not two.

it's the second night now and I have already decided this is not happening again anytime soon. I'm so fucking exhausted. it'd be less exhausting if it was my nephew, I think - he's older and also doesn't need as much help (even when he was her age).

I love my niece but she just asks so many questions. like when we're watching a show or a movie, even if it's one she has seen before (even multiple times), she doesn't understand what's going on and constantly asks me to explain everything. I don't mind it, really, but it does take a lot of energy. plus tonight it took over two hours for her to fall asleep because she was scared by the noises of the house and the nearby road. I get it, but damn I'm so fucking tired, I just want to sleep 😭

[kayzero]

MIRAKANE CONTENT ... literally jumps up and down in joy fr fr

I was gonna answer this privately because I’m gonna delete the thing you’re referring to in a day or so, so this ask won’t make much sense after that happens, but I started rambling about something that Wasn’t That so I guess it can be public

but yeah! Mirakane! The murderest of lesbians that I’m aware of! and also one of them unequivocally hates the other for crimes committed in the past except she isn’t aware that those crimes were committed by this specific murder lesbian!

idk if Mirakane is requited in the “True End” Route of ZWG, i have no idea if my Akane is capable of separating The Person Mira from The Act Of Killing Sally Valentine and therefore Getting Akane’s Father Sentenced To Death. the attraction would have to be present in the first place for her to even put effort into trying to untangle that knot, but i suppose a world exists where Akane has enough distance to say “there’s no way Tiny Mira had the foresight to see past the immediate consequences of her murder, I should instead get mad at the American Court System for killing a man, who was not proven beyond a shadow of a doubt to have killed the woman in question, just because he himself was not American”

don’t know if that world is this world

but you know what, I will always support and spread Aromantic Lesbian Mira Propaganda

and i maintain that the only reason Mira ever attached herself to Eric in canon was because he attached himself to her first and she had enough self loathing to go “welp, this is probably the best I’m ever gonna get, even if I don’t like it I guess it isn’t unpleasant”

[crossbackpoke-check]

about to be sooo nosy so. my apologies. but. morgan frost? girlfriend? do share (or don’t! again this is so nosy i’m sorry)

for legal purposes i can neither confirm nor deny anything about morgan and his girlfriend but afaik i think he’s single right now? at one point (within the past four years 😭) he did for sure have a girlfriend and that is the extent of my wag knowledge

[ifyourereadingthisblinktwice]

i need to stop forgetting things exist the fucking second they leave my field of vision. why is is impossible for two things to occupy my mind at once especially when im tired. like. i feel like a sim. i feel like actions are being canceled and i just. move on. and completely forget what i was doing moments before. i fucking hate it