#I try my best to be open minded and NOT bigoted

[laroserie]

— Various x-men characters, with a queer ! reader

— characters ; Scott Summers. Jean Grey. Logan Howlett. Rogue.

— warning ; Reader is implied to be at the very least multisexual in general BUT it's very vague - reader is just not straight. Can be platonic or romantic depend. Include a 'when you come out to them section' but it's also just general headcanons. I included my personal hc about their sexuality. No one is homophobic or anything !

— note ; i said i'd something for pride and poof, there ( yes ... it's the 29th but better late than never! ), yes i do headcanons most xmen characters as multisexual, i wrote this at 3am so if some part doesn't make sense and all sorry

– Scott Summers.

Now, Scott is bisexual himself (with a little bit of self internalised homophobia) so he'd be very, chill, of course with you being queer. But he sometimes do say stuff that make your eyebrow raise, he isn't exactly the most informed, but he is still very respectful, just a bit clumsy. If you try to correct him on something he said and - or - 'correct' him, he will listen and keep that in mind.

Scott could be the type to start being more inclusive in his language once he knows, like he will say 'partner' or 'spouse' when asking you about your relationship. Or not ask about them at all ( if you aromantic for example ).

He probably accidentally out-ed you at some point, he doesn't think twice and just say what's he thought. He will very much apologize for that, and after the first time it never happens again.

When you come out to him, he gives you a simple 'okay, that neat' and a thumb-up. If you use a label/term he doesn't know, he may ask you about it but probably later, like a day or two, he'll come up to you and ask you 'hey, by the way, what does [label] means ?'.

– Jean Grey

Jean Grey, like Scott, is very chill about it. Sure, she doesn't know much about the community and she only knows the 'basic' terminology, but she still very much support you.

If you need to vent about issues related to your sexuality, she will be there, her arms are wild open for you and she has always a box of tissues on hand. She may not get everything, but she'll try to help you as much as she can, by simply comforting you or by trying to give you advice ( not necessary about the problem in itself, but about how to cope around it ).

Jean is absolutely the type to accompany you to pride, if you want her to of course, she is kinda like those straight mothers that accompany their kid to pride !

When you come out to her, she is the sweetest, she'll listen to you and assure you that it change's nothing to her.

– Logan Howlett

He doesn't gives a fuck, the man has seen all type of people thru the years, it's normal and he obviously accept anyone no matter their sexuality or genders but he just doesn't care that much ( my personal headcanon is that Logan is pan but let's be honest, he himself doesn't give a fuck about his sexuality ).

Logan probably goes to the pride parade once in while, depending on the city he in currently, and he'll probably accept to go with you to them - if it's your first, he'll try to keep you in sigh but if not and that you can be left alone and be okay, he will 'abandon' you and you'll only see him when it's time to leave.

When you come out to him, he looks at you and just drop a 'ok', he may add a 'thanks for telling me ?' if you are visibly confused by his answer.

– Rogue

She'd be very happy knowing you are queer too ! ( again personal headcanon that she is bisexual ) She thinks it's nice to have a friend whose also part of the community and if you are newer to it and the terminology, she'll try to teach you about them as best as she can.

If anyone is a bigot to you about your sexuality, Rogue will be there to comfort you about it and, maybe, perhaps, try to fight the person.

When you come out to you, she will be very happy that you have enough trust in her to tell her, she'll probably give you a big hug before asking you question about it ( like 'when did you know ??' but not in the intrusive weird way )

[r4vn]

—LATE BLOSSOM (cont.)

farleıgh x reader 【2/3】

w.c: 4,251

part ¹: here.

disclaimers: sensual tension, dilf!farleigh, secretary!reader, mentions of drugs, farleigh has a kid, fluff??, filler episode, company AU!, hot and bothered, no smut (patience young padawan), cutesy,

—synopsis: youre babysitting your boss's kid for the day in his mansion of a home. as interesting as mr.start was, couldnt help but wonder more about him and his son. maybe something blooms between the two of you by the end of the evening.

a/n: i enjoyed writing this one sm! you guys know i enjoy my intricate details of describing things. i rlly like to paint the picture. i will eagle-eye proofread again later..lol all love! enjoy! as always, sorry for typos!

– part ³: coming soon.

「divider by @/ cafekitsune 」

you walked up to the grand entrance of farleigh's estate. you were nervous, but also severely curious. before you could even knock, the big mahogany door opened to reveal a farleigh start in a half-done suit. his shirt was half buttoned and his tie was undone. he looked even more attractive in tousled clothing and you had to stop your mind from wandering anywhere else but the present. farleigh smiled welcomingly towards you and stepped to the side for you to step in.

"good afternoon, [y/n]." he greeted tenderly. you walked in with a smile, chuckling. you could feel your face gain color at the sight of him.

"good afternoon, sir." you replied. farleigh scoffed playfully, waving a hand in the air.

"farleigh is just fine [y/n], we aren't at work." you didn't know how to respond, only nodding bashfully. you made a mental note to try your best to remember to call him by his first name outside of work. your eyes finally ripped away from your boss who was leading you through the main open room, the sight of the home's interior nearly taking your breath away. the marbled, checkered tiles complimented the rest of the renaissance aged home, decorated with velvet tufted chairs and couches. throughout the hallways you walked with your boss, some had beautifully trimmed pieces of wall tables edged with baroque, golden-plated trims, along with nearly all the furniture in the rooms.

"i take it you're a bit starstruck, [y/n]." the brunette chuckled softly as you could only stare in awe at everything. you nodded, following closely as he continued to give you the tour. as he showed you rooms such as the common area, guest rooms, the kitchen, the library and even his room. you made sure to take a mental snapshot of his room. you didn't know why, but it was a gorgeous room with elegant pieces of furniture.

"not to be stereotypical sir, but how does one like you, inherit such a company?" you inquired, almost immediately regret asking after hearing your words aloud.

"as in how does an american like me take over a british estate?" farleigh corrected you. it made you mentally cringe. you felt like a slight bigot for such a question. farleigh smiled at you again, buttoning his shirt as he walked.

"don't worry, i'm not offended, heh." you didn't know how he knew the topic made you tense, maybe your poker face wasn't as good as you think. "i am related to the family. my mother is the sister of sir james catton, and so i am nephew to lady elspeth and cousin to sir felix. after mr. and mrs. catton passed, venetia did not want it and felix left to pursue his own dreams in life, i was the closest to the family. therefore, it was passed down to me.”

you 'ohh'ed' and nodded understandably. you didn't know he was so close with the catton's. of course you could have done research, but it is always more interesting to hear from the source itself.

"if your mum is related to sir james, does that mean your dad is from the states?" you asked, half knowing the answer. farleigh turns and nods to you, tieing his black tie swiftly as he walked.

"yes, my father is american and my mother is british. the life of a mutt." farleigh grinned playfully. you playfully rolled your eyes at the cheeky brunette, loving that he always has a refreshing sense of humor.

"we are headed to the tv room, where my son is. are you nervous to meet him?" mr.start asked, glancing at you.

a shot of anxiety filled your chest like a small heart attack. you were very curious to meet the son of your boss, but what if he didnt like you? anything could happen, and you didn't want to jeopardize your job in any way.

"i must say i am a bit nervous, sir." you laughed sheepishly, farleigh stopped treading only a couple steps from a cracked open door. you could hear faint sounds from the room, sounding like a tv. farleigh placed his hands on your shoulders, the action not helping your fast heart rate in any way.

"i promise, you will do great. he's a good kid so don't worry." farleigh flashed another reassuring smile before heading into the room. "benji? i'd like you to meet someone bud." you followed farleigh into the room, seeing a nearly much smaller miniature version of your boss. the kid was a near spitting image of his father and had turned to you from the tv, giving you a big toothy smile.

"hello miss! i’m benjamin." he greeted. you nearly gushed at the sight of him. he had his father's skin tone and tight curls, along with prominent features such as his nose and eye shape. though his eyes were a shade of a lighter, honey brown.

"well hello benjamin. i am [y/n]. i'm going to be your babysitter today." you greeted, smiling sweetly. farleigh smiled at your interaction with his son. he checked the time, wincing audibly before kneeling in front of benjamin.

"now benji, i do have to leave. but i will be back tonight to put you to bed. please be good for the maids and for miss [y/n], alright bud?" the miniature brunette nodded vigorously, giggling as farleigh kissed his forehead. farleigh stood and turned to you, clasping his hands together.

"thank you so much for doing this [y/n], you have no idea how much this means to me. i will see you two tonight, alright?" you nodded at him, waving him off as he exited the room.

°°°

within the first two hours, you and benjamin sat in the tv room simply chatting about whatever a 6 year old boy likes to chat about. from dinosaurs, to race cars, to kid shows and even academics, benjamin was quite the intelligent kid. you weren't as nervous as before, and enjoyed the little runt's company. he was very well reserved for a child his age and was not as overstimulating as you thought he would be. one quirk you noticed was that he knew a lot about dinosaurs, and it was the most adorable thing in the world.

"did you know the name triceratops is greek for three-horned face miss [y/n]?" benji asked, playing with his dinosaur figurines on the low wooden table.

"no i did not. isn't that kind of crazy? imagine having three huge horns on your face." you grinned and poked both of benji's cheeks before poking his nose last. the boy giggled at the pokes, retracting from your hands from most likely being ticklish.

"they also weight like, 13 tons! thats like how much a building weights or something!" the small brunette exclaimed while holding his arms out wide to demonstrate the 'size of a building.' you couldn't help but giggle at his actions, finding it too cute. he had more of a british accent than farleigh did, most likely from school.

getting a bit bored from the tv, benjamin asked the maid in the room for his coloring books. he had asked you if you wanted to color with him, of course not denying the request. he had 3 different books; a dinosaur one, a racecar one, and an overall educational one. benji colored in the dinosaur book while you colored a page in the racecar one.

"miss [y/n], are you my new mommy?" the boy quieres. you nearly choked on the crisps you were snacking on, having to clear your throat for a handful of seconds before answering.

"uhm– no sweetheart," your face had gathered warmth quickly, glancing at the maid who clearly held back a smile. "i actually work with your father. i am a secretary, someone who helps him with things like lunch and scheduling meetings."

"ohhhhh ..like a maid?" benji continues. you pause for a moment and think about his words. he wasn't technically wrong. it sometimes felt like that but you never minded it. it was quite literally your job.

"i guess you could say that, only i don’t clean and cook. i hope you behave for the butlers and maids here, benji." benji nods with another big grin while giggling.

"yes i do! i promise! but i was just wondering. i haven't seen my mom in ...i dunno, whats 3 years? a thousand days?" your heart dropped at the sudden turn in topic, forcing a small smile as you watched him continue to color.

"something like that," you responded more gently. "do you remember her?" benjamin hummed. he was thinking of an answer but clearly was more focused on the t-rex on the piece of paper he was coloring. he shrugs and picks up a green colored crayon. "brown hair, brown eyeballs, uhh thats all i sort of know hehe.." you nod, feeling a sudden wave of melancholy gently wash over you as your mind wanders to your own family.

"i get that, i can't remember my dad much." you shrugged. you picked up a green crayon and began making it the accent color of your red racecar, making sure to stay in the lines.

"i love my dad!" benji suddenly exclaimed, causing you to smile again. you gently rubbed his head full of curls. they reminded you of his fathers. you always wanted to touch farleigh's curls.

"mommy left after a big loud argument with daddy. they were using words i can't say until i graduate college, that's what daddy said at least," you paused your coloring, looking at the boy who still seemed bothered at speaking about such a topic while drawing on some dinosaurs.

"they were yelling about things like daddy's job and how mommy was always sad all the time and uh...doing lines on tables?" your breath hitched, trying not to look shocked in front of the housekeeper. you did sneak a glance to her, who averted her gaze.

"i also draw lines on tables but only with my fingers hehe. then one day mommy kissed my head and left with a suitcase. she told me to grow up big and strong aaaand look at me! big and strong!!" benji smiled, holding up his arms. your smile was slowly turned into a sad one. you couldn't help it. hearing such an innocent kid talk about a topic only you can fully comprehend sets an achy feeling in your chest. you decided it was time to change the atmosphere.

"hey, i'm feeling some homemade pizza. what about i go start in the kitchen while you finish up here with your drawing okay?" benjamin's eyes lit up like a starry night in the sky as the mention of pizza.

"okay!! i want to cut out this after im done and miss margaret will walk me into the kitchen!" you give a thumbs up to the boy and a silent agreeing smile to margaret before exiting the room. you admit you did slightly wander the halls for a minute or two and took the longer way to the kitchen just to adore the home itself. you loved the old yet elegant feeling of the entire place. you felt like sort of royalty, wondering how it would be like to even live in a place like this.

eventually you made it to the kitchen and noticed how it looked untouched. you turn to the butler who was dusting off a painting on the wall, hoping to not seem like a bother.

"sir? are there ingredients to make a homemade pizza in this kitchen?" you asked in a more polite tone than usual. the man stops what he is doing to turn to you. he wore an almost neutral expression but even then, you felt your presence was merely enough to annoy him.

"there are two kitchens, madam. this is the front kitchen, where they keep beverages, sweets and snacks in the cabinets and refrigerator. the back kitchen is where the chef and cooks keep most of the ingredients when they cook for sir farleigh and sir benjamin." you nodded, thanking him for the information given before leaving him alone quickly. you wandered to the back of the kitchen where many cooks were prepping food, probably for the following days. you spoke to the chef and told him how you wanted to simply make homemade pizza using the front kitchen stove, and he happily helped you. he brought out the ingredients and placed them on the granite island in the front kitchen. the finest kneaded dough, marinara sauce, 3 varieties of cheeses and several fresh pizza toppings.

while finishing up, you heard a noise from the hallway. it was a brief noise, but what it had sounded like alarmed you. you briskly shuffled into the hallway to see margaret coming to you with benjamin, who has tears running down his face. you immediately ran to his aid, kneeling down toward the boy's height.

"margaret what happened?" you gasped out. there was blood on his small hands along with margaret’s who was holding a wet gray cloth to his hand to stop the bleeding.

"i-im sorry madam. i had looked away for just a moment while he was cutting his drawing out and he nicked himself. there is first aid in the library." the women spoke frantically. you immediately picked up benji and rushed to the library. when the three of you arrived, margaret immediately grabbed the first aid from the shelf. you sat benji down in one of the chairs, speaking to him reassuringly to calm the scared boy down.

"i-it hurts [y/n]." he cried. you continued to press the wet rag to his wound and cupped his small face.

"i know sweetheart. it's okay, you're going to be alright. c'mere." you hushed and cooed the boy reassuringly, holding him in your lap as you rocked him. you silently told margaret to hold off for a moment, just to get him to calm down. you knew hand cuts tend to bleed for a bit before the wound would clot itself and so to distract benjamin, you hummed a small lullaby to soothe him. as you held the rag securely to his hand, your other hand held his head to your chest as you hummed quietly into his ears. within a matter of minutes his cries slowed to small sniffles and hiccups.

the tension in the room lifted and you finally let margaret treat his wound while he sat in your lap. when you finally removed the rag, the cut was as expected a small nick on his thumb. benji sat calmly as margaret gingerly cleaned his cut with a q-tip, placed a then layer or ointment over it and wrapped a blue bandaid around his finger.

"you did so good benji. i think you deserve a treat." you praised. benji looked up at you with his glassy hazel eyes, finally showing a cheeky grin.

"like pizza?" he questioned. you laughed at the unexpected guess but simply nodded. your eyes glanced over at margaret who mouthed a small 'thank you.' your chest warmed and you accepted it, finally taking benjamin to the kitchen to make pizza.

°°°

"[y/n]? benji? im home!" farleigh yelled through out the home whilst walking through the door.

"daddy!!" benji yelled, running towards his father across the main common room. farleigh immediately smile and picked up his son, kissing his head.

"hey buddy, were you good for miss [y/n]?" benjamin nodded excitedly, giggling as his father tickled him. you arrived seconds later after benjamin and beamed at the sight of your boss.

"hello sir. i hope the event was nice." you started. farleigh sighed deeply, painting on a smile. past the smile you could see he needed a lending ear.

"it was surely eventful. let's get this little kiddo to bed first." you agreed and followed farleigh to benjamin's room. the tall brunette helped his miniature copy into his pajamas and laid him down in bed. you sat farther to the end of the bed to let them have their moment.

"daddy i had a really good day. i watched tv, drew dinosaurs, talked about dinosaurs, and i made pizza!" benji exclaimed.

"oh you made pizza?" farleigh questioned, a hint of genuine surprise lacing his tone as he briefly turned to you. benji confirmed again and suddenly showed his blue bandaid, making your heart drop.

"yes. i also hurt myself while trying to cut out my drawing. but miss [y/n] helped me calm down as miss margaret placed the bandaid on it hehe." farleigh held up his sons hand, gently kissing the wounded finger with a smaller smile as he glanced over at you.

"i was wondering what happened when i walked in. but i am glad youre okay, bub. get some sleep, okay?" just as farleigh was about to tuck him in, benjamin protested and sat up quickly. suddenly he crawled over to the end of his bed where you were and gave you a big hug. as you were slightly taken aback, you wrapped your arms around the child, blushing as he kissed your cheek before he climbed right back into bed. farleigh kissed him goodnight before the two of you left his room quietly.

the air seemed to thicken as you walked just seconds short behind farleigh. he walked back into the kitchen, where he had seen the wrapped leftover pizza on the island. you had made sure to clean up as you cooked, so there was minimal mess in the end. but didn't have time to put leftovers up since farleigh was pulling up to the estate at the time. farleigh opened the aluminum foil and took a slice of pizza, humming in approval at the taste.

"so," he started. "what happened?" you swallowed thickly. you couldn't read him. anyone knows if a parent came home to their child wounded they would be livid.

"i went to set up the ingredients for making the pizzas while margaret watched him for a handful of minutes and– and i heard the noise of a cry of some sort and i had seen margaret with a cloth to his hand.." you pause your words, watching as farleigh's fingers undid his tie silently. he rolled up his sleeves before opening the fridge to grab a chilled bottle of red wine. the bottle read 'la ruine. pinot noir.'

"we took him to the library where first aid was and as i calmed him, margaret treated his cut. im really sorry sir it was an honest mistake and i shouldnt of left him alone when he was usin–" you cut yourself short when farleigh suddenly walked up to you and placed his hands on both your shoulders.

"[y/n], sweetheart, its okay. he is a big boy, things happen. i'm not mad at you and its clear it was just an accident. benjamim was clearly fine also, yeah?" you stare up at your boss, nodding slowly at his words.

did he just call me sweetheart?

"y-yes ...sir." you stuttered out. your body temperature increased at his voice calling you a pet name and his touch. you didn't know how to react. farleigh felt your tense arms relax under his touch and he smiled. he opened a higher cabinet, grabbing two crystal glasses and placed them on the island.

"have a glass of wine with me. i think it will ease both of our nerves." the brunette suggested, pouring you both half a glass. you thanked him and sipped the red, the taste immediately making you smile. you looked at farleigh, who had already down his glass with a slight groan at the end. work must of stressed him out today, because he filled his glass halfway again and downed it quickly once more. this time in 2 gulps instead of one.

"heavy day, sir?" you hummed, chuckling sheepishly. farleigh sighed in response, nodding as he poured his third glass. instead of downing it, he kept it on the granite island and placed the bottle to the side.

"i apologize for downing those glasses in front of you like that, wasn't very gentlemen-like of me. but yes today was simply, very overstimulating." farleigh groaned, rubbing his temples at the mere thought of the business event. he went into the pantry and grabbed a half opened bar of chocolate, breaking off a piece to eat. he sipped his glass after with a hum of content.

"may i ask just a summary of your day?" you continued. you took a larger sip of your glass to catch up with farleigh, who was already 2 drinks in.

"it was a beautiful venue and all. some men had their secretaries doing their bidding which made me wish i had you there. not to do everything for me, like you normally do, but to have company. thank you again for babysitting benjamin for me." farleigh tipped his glass to you before drinking from it again.

"it was merely just a lot of conversing about business, laughing at– excuse me but –shitty jokes and poorly made horderves. the live music was beautiful though." you chuckled at hearing farleigh swear. you had never heard him use such language besides the less stronger phrases like 'damn' or 'pain in the ass.' it was nice to see him loosen up.

"i would have loved to have joined you. but i must say, benjamin and i did have fun making pizza and coloring together. i think i can say i definitely had more fun than you, sir." you stated with a cheeky tone. you giggled as farleigh attempted to protest but clearly couldn't, agreeing with you.

"i would choose my son over rich old white men any day. here, try this. dark chocolate is good with red wine." farleigh handed you a small piece of dark chocolate broken off the bar, coaxing you to eat it. you rose a brow but did not question the man, popping the candy in your mouth. the chocolate almost immediately melted against your tongue and you followed the candy with a swing of red, not holding back your pleased expression from the taste. the fruity and spiced flavoring of the wine complimented the savory and slightly sweet piece of chocolate. you made a mental note to try it at home.

"good yeah?" mr.start teased, chuckling as he knew you were doing to enjoy it. you nodded at his words, pointing to the bottle for a refill.

"may i?" you queried. farleigh waved a hand, signaling for you to grab the bottle and you poured yourself another glass. farleigh felt his body becoming warmer, his first 2 glasses finally catching up to him. he casually leaned against the island while you were up against the counter directly across from him. there was maybe a space of about a yard between the two of you as you sipped your glasses, speaking of miscellaneous topics now. but there was no denying the tension in the room. you weren't going to acknowledge it and farleigh seemingly didn't mind it.

"yes i think tony's cafe has better coffee than the cafe on 63rd. it's also less busy and their mocha is much more, well, chocolate-y." farleigh hummed, scratching his scruffy jaw as he finished off his 3rd and final glass.

"tony's black coffee also isn't as bitter. it has that hint of floral notes, like hawaiian coffee. and– oh, hold on.." farleigh paused his words and leaned off the counter to enter your space. your breath hitched as he loomed over you, his hand raising towards your face. the pad of his thumb gently swiped over your cheek a couple of times and farleighs eyes never left your face.

"you had a little bit of flour on your face.." he murmured, making you laugh under your breath.

"probably from the pizza dough." you replied, the volume of your voice automatically decreasing at the close proximity. farleigh, who seemed to be in a daze, was finishing wiping the flour off but didnt move. his fingers simply stayed gently on your face. you didn't know how tipsy you were till you had subconsciously leaned into farleigh's hand, allowing him to cup the side of your face. though when you opened your eyes to see farleigh gazing at you with such eyes, you had realized the alcohol had gotten to you both, and it was time to leave. you swiftly cleared your throat which brought farleigh out of his daze, the man taking a step back for you to breathe.

"ah– ahem ..its getting late farleigh. i should get going–" you started.

"i can take you home." he suggested quickly. you laughed awkwardly, shaking your head at his request.

"sir, you are 3 drinks in. i don't think that's best." you mentioned. farleigh mentally slapped himself for the suggestion. he would never put your life in danger like that. he didn't push any further and simply nodded.

"i will tell margaret to let the chauffeur know. you have a nice evening, [y/n]. i'll see you tomorrow, and thank you again." farleigh flashed one last smile at you, grabbing the bottle and the chocolate to put them up.

"have a goodnight, sir." and with that, you turned your heel and made your way to the front door, not daring to sneak one last look. because you already felt his eyes watching you leave.

© r4vn ²⁰²⁴, do not repost my work.

pls stay tuned. the next one will be spicy ;)

[orange-orchard-system]

Continuing this little vent-fest of mine, I really hate how people will just... absorb whatever misinformation they hear about DID. Like, sure, I get it, you want to believe the person who has the stigmatized disorder when they talk about it. But sometimes people with the disorder are just fucking wrong, too. Sometimes we also need to unlearn our biases, incorrect assumptions, and ideas that sound right but actually aren't. We're not a perfectly unbiased group. We're not granted omnipresence about every presentation and facet of our disorder.

And it frustrates me so much because it's always framed as though the people correcting the misinformation are evil, ableist bigots. As if we're the problem and not trying to handle a situation before it gets out of hand and people get hurt. They'll always absorb the misinformation because the person spreading it has DID but anyone fucking correcting it is "clocked" as a faker lying for unspecified malicious reasons. Omfg. Grow the fuck up and admit that you just uncritically absorbed the first thing you heard about whatever aspect of the disorder we're talking about this time. Grow the fuck up and accept that DID is complex and involves a lot of phenomena that might sound far-fetched at first. Especially when it comes to the complex ways we might be traumatized and show the effects of our trauma, are you kidding me. You are not immune to misinformation. You are not immune to exclusionism. You are not immune to hurting people in the name of protecting them.

I did eventually end up reaching out to the person who reblogged that post calling a specific subset of systems, as well as a specific form of abuse, a conspiracy theory. No word back as of yet. But I'm going to try to let it go and focus on my own projects for right now, because that is a ball of yarn I am not going to untangle overnight, but I can at least start sharpening the scissors for someone else to cut through it one day. Confrontation is not my strong suit, and I'm tired of being treated like shit for trying to correct misinformation about the disorder I work to destigmatize. Best to focus my efforts elsewhere.

If you've dealt with this kind of thing, seen this kind of post where people will spread the most obviously incorrect shit because they don't want to accept all the complexities and unusualities of DID, my heart goes out to you. It sucks. But I refuse to believe that it's going to be this way forever. No matter how fruitless it may seem, we are making headway in awareness, understanding, and acceptance. Some asshats who want to stick their head in the sand and only accept the most simplified, sanitized version of this messy and varied disorder are not going to stop us from making a place in the world for ourselves.

Keep your head high and your mind open. We're gonna make it through this shit.

[teecupangel]

Hii teecup!! Hope you're doing well!!

May I ask some a/b/o AltDes stuff please (alpha! Altaïr and Omega!Desmond) because there's not much of it out there :'D

Now I'm sure Altaïr would more open minded and much less of an asshole to omegas then most of the people back in his days..... HOWEVER, please hear me out, what if he wasn't

He could be low-key about it, unlike most alphas who are very vocal and open about their 'opinions' on Omegas and such. He's very aloof when it comes to omegas in general, not having strong feelings on anything (very Altaïr behaviour honestly). That is until he meets Desmond.

Now instead of time travel, this time Desmond was born in Altaïr's time. This means Desmond would be raised as a traditional and submissive omega, but he still fought back. He could be born in Alamut (because Eagle of Alamut XD) as the son of the mentor (who is not Diya al-Dīn because he would never) who trained and became an assassin... sort of because idiot bigots.

Desmond is the best assassin in his entire brotherhood, BUT he's not officially an assassin. His father/mentor isn't as strict like most and let him get away with his antics, usually.

That is until Desmond was 'of age' and that's when it starts getting bad for our boy. His dad became more controlling and won't let him sneak off to do missions or fight anymore. He was to be married to whoever the assassins could use as allies. Basically just a bargaining chip. Desmond would fight back harder then ever, even with one of the best assassins guarding him and monitoring his move all the time, he would still be able to sneak off to continue doing missions to make them see just how capable he was.

He could runaway, he probably should runaway, but deep down all he wanted was for his father to love him again. To look at him with pride and treat him like a son again. (Altaïr would use this fact as an advantage later on)

But then it all comes crashing down when he finally gets betrothed. (Idk who he should be betrothed to LMAO it could be whoever. Someone very powerful that the assassins could use)

And all was going to shit for Desmond but it all went to super shit when Altaïr showed up. Because oh boy, Altaïr was a Strom of his own.

Now I honestly don't know how he and Altaïr meets, but it definitely left an impression on Altaïr because he was smitten from the first time they made eye contact. Man was obsessed from here on out kajsksjssoakakak.

And uhh yeah that's all I've got, plot wise

Some notes.

- Desmond pulling all the alpha assholes like catnip.

- Altaïr, manipulating Desmond as a sign of affection

- Malik suffers because we love him <33

Honestly teecup, I just wanted a toxic a/b/o au but it grew plotty legs and ran out of my grasps, my apologies.

And that's all for now!

Sorry in advance if my English is very trying, I'm typing on my phone and it's not the best experience.

PS please make it as toxic and horny as Tumblr allows you to, and I would give you my kidneys.

PPS if you think you know who I am by how I write..... No you don't/lh

As horny and as toxic as Tumblr would allow it? I don’t even know the limit of Tumblr’s tolerance hahahaha

So for this one, if you want Desmond to be born in Alamut as a son of the mentor but not Diya al-Dīn, we can make him the son of an older brother of Diya al-Dīn instead. Born more as a way for the older brother, who was passed over because Diya al-Dīn was more worthy of the title, to try and get power with his son being the next in line for the imam since Diya al-Dīn was still childless at that point.

Diya al-Dīn would be the kind uncle who tried to do right by his nephew but can’t truly intervene because his brother was controlling and had a firm grasp on Desmond’s every day life. It was going well, all things considered.

Desmond wasn’t a genius nor was he inherently talented but he was a hard worker and he always went beyond what was required of him.

His father rewards his hard work by giving him a bit of leeway, all the while making him drink medicinal tea that was meant to change him into an alpha.

It didn’t do anything but hide his scent… which had been easy to do in the first place because those not yet of age only had a hint of scent to show their ‘status’.

Diya al-Dīn tried to be accepting of Desmond’s wish to be an Assassin even if omegas aren’t exactly… well… only omegas that could control their ‘base instinct’ could become Assassins which was hard for an omega without the help of some kind of medicine that would leave them in pain or groggy.

Desmond, unfortunately, is one of the omegas that cannot be medicated. Even if he drank more than he should, that only leaves him in unbearable pain.

That’s why his father pivoted from Desmond becoming the next imam to having some talks with certain powerful rulers. Finding Desmond an alpha that would take him as their official wife or one of his concubine.

His father was less picky of Desmond’s standing and more interested in creating a political bond with a powerful ally (whether he plans to use this to usurp Diya al-Dīn or he simply wants more power outside of the Brotherhood is up for grabs)

And he finally finds one but Desmond would enter into that household as a concubine. His marriage proposition wasn’t a good one all things considered, the alpha was a powerful one but it was well known that his official wife and the older concubines were dangerous. Newer concubines either die from poisoning or accidents or childbirth and, more often than not, their children would not survive more than five summers.

So Desmond escapes. Maybe, just maybe, Diya al-Dīn had a hand in the patrol routes that night and it left certain large windows of opportunity for Desmond to use.

Alamut, of course, will look for him. That’s why Desmond would try to hide from them.

That’s how he meets Altaïr.

He was desperate and his heat was upon him. Altaïr’s scent was overpowering and he could feel it within him that this was an alpha that would fight tooth and nail to keep his omega safe.

He wasn’t a romantic.

He had already accepted the very idea that his alpha would not love him.

He doesn’t need it.

Love did not bring his omega parent any happiness, no matter how overflowing their love for Desmond’s alpha father had been.

What he needed was an alpha who would take care of him and any child he would bear.

So he used his scent to weaken the alpha’s defenses.

It was Desmond who made it impossible for Altaïr to resist.

And so Altaïr claimed him.

.

Unorganized Notes:

Desmond escaped a few weeks after Altaïr killed Rashid but before AC Bloodlines. (So late Sept, early Oct)

He was on his way to Alamut to talk to Diya al-Dīn about being the new mentor (he doesn’t want to be the next mentor) and they actually spent Desmond’s heat in a random abandoned home

Alamut Assassins found them afterwards and, by that point, Desmond was sooo thoroughly claimed that there was no way to say that Altaïr wasn’t his alpha.

This also changed Altaïr’s desire to not be the mentor because the easiest way to keep Desmond by his side is to be the mentor of Masyaf with his marriage to Desmond being a way to ‘mend’ the broken relationship between Alamut and Masyaf.

Desmond’s father was not pleased but fuck him, by law, Desmond was now the property of his mate and Altaïr has no qualms killing the asshole if he doesn’t stop yapping about how he raised Desmond and should have the final say on everything.

He returns to Masyaf and… sorta kicked all the Flowers of Paradise. To be more exact, they were transferred to another part of the fortress while the entirety of Paradise became Desmond’s new home. (Desmond and his most definitely growing child)

That is the second headache Malik got.

The first one was the fact that Altaïr returned with Alamut’s blessing as the mentor (which Altaïr had stressed he would never take) and an omega mate (which he had always said would never happen)

Desmond is free to go anywhere in Masyaf but he will always have guards on him because security reason.

Desmond believes Altaïr’s affection stemmed from the fact that he did more or less coerced Altaïr to biting him during the throes of heat-induced passion so he wants a child to further keep Altaïr ‘happy’ and satisfied (not knowing that the mentor title isn’t passed down from father to son in Masyaf, he honestly believe Altaïr is Rashid’s adopted son)

Altaïr was never fully enthralled during Desmond’s heat. He has been trained to have high tolerance as part of Rashid’s plan to make him the ultimate ‘attack dog’. He marked Desmond fully knowing Desmond was desperate and was trying to ‘seduce’ him.

Honestly, Altaïr just wanted Desmond because his scent had been the sweetest ambrosia he had ever smelled and he believed that meant they were meant to be.

And he will not let anyone get between them, no matter who they may be.

[these-written-reveries]

Hello! i’m wondering if you could possibly write an Arthur Fleck fic where it’s y/n’s first time meeting Arthur. Possibly at one of his comedy shows, or in the apartments, which ever. In the fic, i just want them to possibly feel a connection between each other. Hopefully you see this!

Hi there!! Got a little carried away with this one, but I had a lot of fun writing it! I read comedy show or apartments and I was like “why not both!”😂 I hope I did your idea justice! Thank you for your request!

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The Spark ✧.*

‣ Pairing: Arthur Fleck x GN!Reader

‣ Summary: After years of searching and failing to find ‘the spark’ that lovers always talked about, you began to think it wasn’t a real possibility for you. That was, until you stumbled into a man by the name of Arthur Fleck.

‣ Genre: Fluff

‣ Warnings: None!

‣ Word Count: 5,158

‣ Have an idea for a fic you’d like me to write? Send a request here. But first, make sure to read my Request Info!

Arthur Fleck/P!Joker Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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You absent-mindedly swirled the straw inside of your drink, one elbow positioned on the dimly lit table beside it as you supported your chin with the palm of your hand. Glancing around the room for what had to have been the hundredth time that night, you let out a disappointed sigh.

"Stood up again, huh?" You muttered to yourself. "Just my luck…"

The crowd around you laughed, and if you didn’t know better, you would’ve assumed they were laughing at you. Rather, they were all focused on the pretentious man standing under the spotlight on the small platform stage. It was a Thursday night at Pogo’s, which meant the mic was open to any comedian daring enough to take on the task of trying to make the dreary people of Gotham laugh. This particular comedian seemed to have knocked it out of the park. Everyone was practically rolling out of their seats with laughter.

Everyone, but you.

You wouldn’t say you were a hard person to please when it came to humor. There were many things you found funny —even a lot of the darker stuff. Your humor just didn’t align with the misogynistic and overall bigoted jokes that seemed to be ever-flowing from this guy’s mouth. Having arrived at Pogo’s nearly an hour and a half ago, you could confidently say that the jokes from everyone else that had taken the stage that night had been no different. Quite frankly, you were bored.

It wasn’t even your idea to come to Pogo’s that night. Your date recommended it, raving about the comedian who went by the same name as the one currently on stage before you. According to him, this guy was the "comedian of the century".

You could feel your eyes threatening to roll into the back of your skull just thinking about it.

Dating in Gotham had left you jaded, and this was one of the many reasons why. You just couldn’t seem to find someone you truly felt a connection to. After being on so many first dates with multifarious characters —all of which never led to a second, you began to lose hope in finding that special someone to share your life with. At first, that reality stung like a hundred paper cuts on your lonely heart. But after some time, the loneliness faded, and you realized you didn’t really mind being alone. You enjoyed your own company better than most others’. And you never disagreed with yourself on things like whether pineapple belonged on pizza, if cereal was a soup, which superpower is the best, which jokes were funny and which were plain bad —you know, the important stuff. Whether or not you found a partner in the future was no longer a top priority on your list, as not only had you given up on the terrible dating pool of Gotham, but you had also finally found contentment within yourself and the prospects of being alone.

That was until last week, when you met the no-show date of yours in person for the first time. Your friend had mentioned him in conversation before, so you weren’t too surprised to find he had joined your scheduled get-together with a few of your other friends that evening. He introduced himself, and the two of you seemed to hit it off quite well. You didn't talk about very much, but you swore you felt something.

The spark, perhaps?

You had always been told about a special spark that you’d feel when you met "the one." However, nobody could seem to tell you what exactly it felt like. All you were told was, "You’ll know it when you feel it."

Unfortunately, you’d never get to find out whether you were right about that spark. You even stayed far longer than you normally would have for a no-show date like this. As much as you had yourself convinced that you were totally fine with being eternally single, you couldn’t deny the fact that you were still a hopeless romantic at heart, always seeking out that special connection, that special spark.

That’s why you stayed as long as you did, suffering through ninety minutes of ridiculously bad jokes —though you seemed to be the only one in the room with that opinion. Looking back, you were glad your date didn’t show. You deserved better than someone who thought the jokes you’d heard all night were the pinnacle of humor.

Cheers from the crowd around you pulled you out of your thoughts and back to the center of the room as the previous comedian could be seen waltzing off the stage. The announcer took his place at the mic, reading off the information for the next comedian in line. A disgruntled huff left your lips. The last thing you wanted was to stick around for another insufferable act filled with the same jokes. Besides, it was getting late, and you’d already waited long enough for a date that was never going to happen.

Getting ready to leave, you took one last sip of your drink and collected your things. You pulled out your wallet, fishing for a tip to leave the waiter, just as the announcer finished reading their script.

"For his whole life, was told that his purpose in life is to bring happiness and joy into this cold, dark world…Uh…Right. Everyone, please help me welcome Arthur Fleck!"

Your ears perked up at those words. That introduction was much more interesting than any of the others you’d heard. Still, you continued to search for the five-dollar bill you knew you had somewhere in your wallet, not paying any mind to the clapping around you or what was happening on stage.

That was, until he spoke.

"Hello, it’s good to be here." His velvety voice was laced with nervousness. He chortled, but it didn’t sound natural at all.

Forgetting about the tip, you glanced up at the man in the spotlight. Your heart unexpectedly fluttered in your chest as you observed the man —Arthur, was it?— closely.

He wore a merlot-colored vest over a white button-up shirt, paired with matching red slacks and brown loafers. His hair was slightly brushed back, little brown curls framing his face that stopped just a couple inches above his shoulders. Dark eyebrows highlighted a pair of eyes so strikingly green that you could distinctly see them from the back of the room where you were seated.

Arthur… He was certainly handsome. What concerned and intrigued you was the veil of pain over his smile and eyes and the underlying strain in his voice. There was something about him that drew you in —made you want to know more. Your wallet laid disregarded on the table as your eyes remained focused on him.

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Arthur swallowed back the growing lump in his throat. "Not now. Remember your practice." He repeated these words over and over in his head, begging the laughter not to take over again. He had performed this act once before a couple of months ago, but his condition had stolen the show from him, which left everyone laughing at him and not his jokes. He was embarrassed, but he couldn’t help but think, "What’s new?". Yet, after that failed performance, he somehow felt more determined to try again. He practiced and practiced any time he had the chance, often in the mirror or in his living room in front of an imagined audience.

He really felt like he had it down pat this time. All he had to do was get ahold of his laughter long enough to get through it.

Clearing his throat, he glanced down at the journal gripped tight by his trembling hands before looking back up at the audience.

"I h-hated school as a kid." One line down, and he only slightly chuckled. He made sure to smile like he rehearsed.

"My mother would say, 'You should enjoy it; one day you’ll have to work for a living.'"

Arthur could feel his throat closing up again. Sweat began to bead on his forehead from the stress and the hot stage lights above. He took a deep breath, trying to center himself before moving on to the punch line.

"N-No, I won't, ma’, I’m gonna be a comedian!" He held his arms out with a smile.

Scanning the silent audience, he began to feel his confidence crumble. As it did, the laughter became harder to suppress. He awaited his own doom…

A giggle could be heard somewhere in the distance. Arthur felt a bolt of excitement run through him, reviving his dwindling composure as he quickly began searching for the owner of the laugh amongst the dark sea of judging eyes around him.

Finally, they landed on you.

Arthur was immediately captivated by your beauty. You were all dressed up, your hair was done up nicely, and your radiant smile was pointed directly at him. You even laughed at his joke! Or were you just laughing at him like everyone else typically did? He wasn’t the best at reading people, but your smile seemed warm and your eyes friendly. And honestly, with your eyes locked on him in that very moment, he didn’t really care much whether he was misreading that or not. There was something about you that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Something that drew him to you —made him want to keep making you smile like that.

Arthur took his newfound confidence and continued with his act, trying his hardest to illicit more of that wonderful sound you made earlier.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ♡̷̷̷ ⋆⁺₊⋆

For the first time all night, you laughed. Not even a pity laugh, like the few you’d heard sprinkled amongst the quiet. Arthur evidently had some sort of condition he struggled with, but despite that, he was genuinely funny. The more he continued with his act, the more you found yourself laughing. You didn’t even care if you were the only person in the room who found his jokes hilarious. They clearly had terrible taste, and dammit, you were actually enjoying yourself!

It seemed like after he and you made eye contact, his laughter subsided a bit, enough for him to get through things a little more smoothly. Even so, you still felt deep concern each time he seemed to choke on the laughter that forced its way past his lips. You had never heard of such a condition, but it was clear to you that his laughter was not voluntary. You found yourself admiring his bravery and persistence, even when he was continuously cut off by his painful laughter, and eventually, the announcer, telling him his time was up.

You felt your blood boil at the announcer for interrupting his act so rudely. The other comedians had been allowed to finish their full acts, even if they went over their allotted time. They just wanted Arthur off the stage.

A pang of worry hit you as Arthur’s laughter finally got the better of him and came out in full force. You felt the urge to leap out of your chair and help him as he buckled over with his back turned against the audience, covering his mouth as if trying to stuff the laughter back inside himself. You didn’t want to make him any more uncomfortable than he already was, so instead, you clapped. Not once did you clap at the end of the other comedian’s acts that night. But Arthur, he made you truly laugh. If any one of them deserved praise and support, it was him.

You clapped loudly enough to fill the deafening silence in the room, standing up in your chair with a smile. Arthur turned his head to look at you, his lips tugging into a genuine smile that reached his eyes before he was abruptly taken over by another fit of laughter. Your eyes followed him as he quickly scurried off the stage, heading into the backstage area. Your heart tugged against your chest at the sudden absence of him, a sensation that confused you.

It couldn’t possibly be the spark you’d been searching for…right? You barely knew the man.

You didn’t give yourself any more time to think before you tossed a random bill onto the table and rushed towards the backstage area you had seen him vanish into. Your feet moved quickly down the stairs, your eyes scanning around for him. Stopping in an unfamiliar room, you found it to be filled with nothing but framed photos of popular comedians who had performed at Pogo’s and a TV hung in the top left corner by the stairs from which you came. It was quiet and empty, but there was a hallway ahead that you hoped might lead you to the person you were seeking.

This time, you hesitated before moving your feet. Was this weird? Creepy, even? All you wanted was to speak to him face-to-face. Tell him his act was great. But would a normal person come bursting through backstage all for that?

"Hey!" You jumped at the booming voice behind you. "Didn’t you read the sign? Performers only!"

You spun around on your heels, not even looking the person in the eye as you mumbled an apology before quickly racing back up the stairs and heading straight for the exit of the building.

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For days after, you couldn’t stop thinking about how ridiculous an idea that was. You were certain that if you did happen to meet Arthur then, he would’ve thought you were crazy. You didn’t know him at all. He definitely didn’t know you. All you knew of him was what you observed in less than 7 minutes of his act. You made eye contact a few times, he smiled at you, whatever. Nothing special.

So why was it that you couldn’t get him out of your head?

Weeks passed, and the thoughts of Arthur Fleck persisted. You went over the memory of him from that night about a million times. Not just that, you’d been catching yourself imagining what he was doing at any given hour, as well as what kind of person he was. The thoughts kept coming and coming, frequently hindering your focus and only growing louder in the darkest hours of the night. You were beginning to question your own sanity a little. Obsessively thinking about a stranger you barely knew surely wasn’t normal. You knew this, yet you couldn’t seem to separate him from your mind, no matter how hard you tried.

There was just something about him. The way he shined so brightly against the depressing gloom of the city, despite the odds stacked against him —that which you knew you’d only seen the smallest glimpse of. He was a rare gem in Gotham, and you felt lucky to have witnessed him in person. Your only regret was that you never got to officially meet him.

With Gotham being so largely populated, you knew the chances of seeing him again were slim to none. If only you hadn't missed your chance. You’d debated going to Pogo's again in hopes that you’d catch another one of his performances, but you lacked the time, money, and, quite frankly, the willpower to sit through any more of those other dreadful acts. You may have been bordering on crazy when it came to your interest in this complete stranger, but you weren’t THAT desperate.

So, you let him go. Tried to, at least. He still popped into your head frequently throughout your days, but you managed to accept the grief of never getting to know who Arthur Fleck truly was, telling yourself that he was probably not as special as you made him out to be in your head. Arthur Fleck was just a stranger you projected your deepest desires onto, making him out to be the kind of partner you’d always wanted to share your life with but could never seem to find out in the real world. There was no such thing as the ‘spark', the magical connection people always talked about in the movies and that your friends and family raved about. Maybe it was real for them, but not for you. Foolish, were you, to think otherwise…

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Arthur had been distracted lately, more so than usual. He frequently spent a lot of time in his head; contemplating life, crafting jokes, having conversations with himself, daydreaming scenarios that helped him cope with the harshness of his reality. But as of late, most of his mind had been consumed by one particular subject.

You.

He didn’t know you. Didn’t even know your name. But something about you left a lasting imprint on his mind for days, weeks after his last gig at Pogo’s.

Your beauty, your smile, the way your eyes perked up when they met his. Even at the far end of the dark room, you stood out so clearly to him. And the things he felt when he heard your laughter...he couldn’t possibly describe in words. Never had he been filled with such warmth from a stranger —and all you did was laugh at his jokes! Nobody ever laughed at his jokes.

Nobody, but you.

And you didn’t laugh at him once. He paid close attention to see if you would, all while hoping with everything he had that you wouldn’t. Instead, he was met with an expression filled with joy and kindness, and at certain moments, deep compassion for him.

If it wasn’t for you, he wouldn’t have been able to get through his act. Your laughter was what kept him going and inspired him not to give up. That’s why he wanted to be a comedian in the first place. To make people laugh. To give people a sense of happiness that he himself had been cruelly stripped of his entire life. As Arthur had regrettably learned time and time again, most people found that sense of happiness in laughing at him, seeing him hurt, beating him down —but not in his jokes. Even his own mother didn’t think he was funny.

But you did. And that mean the entire world to him.

Since then, there was seldom a moment in which thoughts of you weren’t floating around his head. He pondered over everything he could remember about you. He imagined what you were like, what your name was, what made you smile, if you had a partner. He selfishly pretended you didn’t for the sake of the daydreams he created of you and him together, despite knowing that if you were to meet him, you’d probably want nothing to do with him. Hell, he wasn’t even convinced you were actually real. How could someone as perfect as you exist? Nobody in Gotham had a smile that bright. Nobody in Gotham would ever openly show him such kindness and warmth. It was impossible…right?

Arthur carried on with his life, knowing that you were likely just a part of his imagination, and he once again confused fantasy with reality. He had been watching too many romantic films lately, and it got to his head, that’s all.

But that certainly didn’t stop the persistent thoughts of you and the deep desire that you did really exist. That, for the first time, he had been truly seen by someone real.

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"Shit. Dammit. Come on," you cursed under your breath as you struggled to lock your friend’s car with one hand, all while performing a balancing act with an overflowing box of items in your arms and two bags slung over your shoulders.

You felt lucky to have such great friends —the kind that would let you borrow their car when you suddenly got evicted from your apartment. You weren’t feeling too lucky about that, but at least you had people you could rely on to help you through it.

It didn’t help that it was such short notice, leaving you scrambling to find somewhere else to live. Your friends had offered to let you stay on their couches while you searched, but as it turned out, there was only one place within reasonable distance of your job that you could afford, so your search didn’t last long. It wasn’t a great place, by any means. It looked to be practically falling apart, and it was in a terribly dangerous area of Gotham, but you would take that over being on the streets any day. Besides, it was cheap enough that you would conveniently save a few bucks a month. Not much, but it was better than not being able to afford the rent at all.

After successfully locking the car, you walked carefully towards the entrance of the apartment building. With how exhausted you were from frantically packing everything at the last minute, the last thing you wanted to do was take multiple trips to and from your friend’s car for some basic necessities. That said, you made a mental note to move your friend’s car to a safer location before the end of the day. Apparently, the area was known for a lot of car break-ins and robberies.

You walked through the entrance of the building, not having much time to look for where to go before you abruptly collided with someone in front of you, causing most of the items in your arms to fall onto the dirty checkered floor below your feet.

"God, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t really looking—I mean, I couldn’t really see where I was going, and I...I’m sorry," you said as you rushed to pick up all your belongings off the floor. Wanting to avoid witnessing the stranger judge your frazzled state, you kept your eyes glued to the ground and focused on putting things back together in a way that would allow you to carry it all again.

"It’s alright. I wasn’t looking where I was going either," the stranger responded. They seemed surprisingly understanding, something you were not used to receiving in the merciless city you resided in.

"Sorry. H-Here, let me help," he added, just as you noticed the familiar brown loafers on the stranger’s feet. Suddenly, the rest began falling into place.

Wait a minute…That voice. You knew that voice.

You shot your head up just as the stranger crouched down to help you pick up your things. Your eyes met in that moment, leaving you both frozen in place for an unknown amount of time as you each took in the familiar face of the person before you.

It was Arthur. The man you had been thinking about for an embarrassing amount of time. It had been almost a month since you’d seen his act at Pogo's, and thoughts of him still remained active in your mind all this time later, despite your many attempts to lock them away and forget about him.

The chances of you two seeing each other again were so very slim, and yet, there you were, crouched at eye level on the floor, staring at one another in shock. You felt heat rise to your cheeks as you realized you had been blatantly staring at him for what would definitely be considered too long and scrambled to find something to say.

"You’re Arthur Fleck from—"

"You were the one who—"

You and Arthur laughed sheepishly, heat rising to your cheeks as you looked into each other's eyes.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ♡̷̷̷ ⋆⁺₊⋆

There was that laugh he’d been craving to hear all month. It filled his ears and soothed his soul. Even better, your speaking voice was the most heavenly sound he’d ever heard. The way you said his name was enough to have him on the verge of melting into a complete puddle on the floor, and it took all of his conscious energy not to do just that. He was surprised you even remembered him at all. ‘Memorable’ was not a word Arthur would even think to associate himself with. Arthur was invisible to much of the world around him. But strangely, miraculously, not to you.

Not only that…you seemed to be real. The fact that he was so shocked to find out you were the person he ran into pointed more to the possibility of you not just being a figment of his imagination. Never in a million years had he expected to find you in this dump, of all places.

"Y-Yes, that’s me. I’m Arthur." He nodded timidly. "Why are you here?"

"What a stupid question. You didn’t even ask for their name!" he thought. He tried to think of the right things to say in this kind of situation. He had imagined many scenarios of meeting you, but never like this. It became harder to breathe as he realized he had already said the wrong thing. Now you probably thought he was rude and a loser. Why did he always have to mess everything up?

Surprisingly, though, you laughed.

"I swear, I’m not stalking you!" You joked, putting your hands up in playful defense. "I’m actually moving in today." Arthur felt relief fill his being, but the threat of a laughing fit still loomed over his head. You were just so pretty, and perfect, and so much better than he had imagined. He would never forgive himself if he messed this up.

"I’m Y/N, by the way. It’s nice to officially meet you…I’m assuming you live here?" You smiled at him, radiating the same warmth he had received from you at Pogo’s all those nights ago. If he could bask in it forever, he would.

Y/N… Your name definitely suited you better than any of the ones he came up with in his mind. He avoided the temptation to repeat it aloud in front of you. He wanted to know what it felt like rolling off his tongue.

"Yeah, eighth floor," he said. "What floor are you on?" 

Your eyes grew wide, and you blinked a few times in what appeared to be shock.

"E-Eighth floor…"

Now it was Arthur’s turn to feel shocked. What a strange twist of events that seemingly led you both here. Arthur thought he’d given up on fate, seeing as his life had only been filled with one traumatic event after another, no matter how hard he tried to change things for the better. Either fate had a nasty grudge against him or everything was all random chance, and he just so happened to always be in the wrong place at the wrong time. For Arthur, it was easier to believe the latter. At least that way, he still had some sense of control over his life. He’d take his chances in a battle against bad luck over some divine force that he surely stood no chance against.

As he gazed upon you now, he couldn’t help but feel conflicted once more. Maybe he was wrong about fate. Sure, it was his performance at Pogo’s that caught your attention, but Arthur certainly wasn’t the one that led you to being at the club that night, nor the reason that you were moving here —on the same floor of the apartment building he lived in, no less. Maybe it was luck, maybe it was a crazy coincidence, or maybe it was something more…

A glimmer of hope filled his heart as he smiled at you. Maybe you were real, and maybe fate was too. If all the terrible things he went through were the exact things required for him to end up here in this very moment with you, then it was all worth it to him.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ♡̷̷̷ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Arthur was surprisingly not much different than what you imagined him to be like. He was very sweet, and you found his timidity around you charming. Your heart fluttered every time he smiled at you. The smiles he presented you now were not veiled with pain like the ones you had seen from him on stage. They were soft and sincere, and they accentuated the wrinkles around his pretty green eyes.

You accepted his offer to help you carry your things up to your apartment. He claimed he was headed that way anyway, though you swore he had been exiting the building when you ran into him. The possibility of him dropping his plans to help you instead released a whole swarm of butterflies in your stomach.

Arthur pressed the elevator button for the eighth floor, shifting the weight of the box in his arms as he did so. He had insisted on carrying both the heavy box and one of your bags for you, leaving you to carry a few smaller items and the other bag slung around your shoulder.

"I, um…I never got to tell you how much I loved your act! I wanted to speak to you afterwards, but…I guess I missed you," you said.

"Uh, yeah, sorry about that…" He shot you an apologetic look.

"Don’t worry about it." You smiled. "I’m just glad I get to tell you now. You’re really funny, Arthur. Funnier than all those other comedians, if you ask me."

Arthur’s cheeks turned a rosy pink as he looked down at the box in his arms, a big smile taking over his face. "Thank you. That means a lot."

The elevator door screeched open, and the two of you walked down the hallway of your shared floor, your conversation continuing on the way to your door. You both found yourselves walking slower to avoid the inevitable end of the moment you were so immersed in.

Something about the way Arthur spoke to you made you feel special. His tone was gentle, and his eyes held a deep curiosity for every word that you spoke in return. The more the two of you talked, the more comfortable you began to feel around him, and you could sense Arthur felt the same way; his previous nerves now diminished as he casually walked alongside you.

Eventually, you arrived at your destination, but that did nothing to cease your talking. Arthur amusingly pointed out the fact that your apartment was directly across from his and joked about bringing a shitty casserole to your place to welcome you to the neighborhood. You noticed Arthur’s face brighten even more as you laughed at this.

He even offered to help you gather the rest of your things and bring them into your apartment, which you happily agreed to —not only for the help but for the extra time you’d get to spend with him. You were ever so curious to know more about the mysterious Arthur Fleck, who had nearly consumed your every thought for so many days. He intrigued you more than anyone else you’d ever met, the bright light of his soul drawing you nearer like a moth to a flame.

It was at that moment that you finally understood. The spark you’d been seeking your whole life was neither a thing nor a feeling. It was a person.

Finally, you had found your spark.

And his name was Arthur Fleck.

◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈

‣ If you enjoyed this fic, please like, comment, and/or reblog! Doing so not only keeps my blog alive, but also lets me know what you like and how to improve!

‣ If you’d like to join the tag list for Arthur Fleck/P!Joker, or be tagged in all of my future writings, let me know by sending me an ask/message!

[waitingtobelit]

Title: Build Me Up Fandom: 911 Characters/Pairings: Evan Buckley/Tommy Kinard Rating: Teen for language. Genre: This is pure fluff and I'm not sorry! Summary: “If I’m your honey does that make you my Pooh Bear?”

Evan asks around a mouthful of waffle, whipped cream, and strawberries, trying to pull of innocence but failing in the way his eyes light up in clear amusement and the corners of his mouth keep twitching upwards around his food. It also doesn’t help his case that he has whipped cream and strawberry sauce all over his chin. He’s adorable like this, and he damn well knows it; Tommy doesn’t miss the roll of his shoulders as he preens. He’s an absolute menace.

--

Buck teases Tommy with various terms of endearment until Tommy catches him by surprise. In the end, they both render each other speechless. For day 2 of bucktommy positivity week: nicknames and terms of endearment.

Notes: Title comes from the song "Build Me Up Buttercup."

This is shameless fluff and you can probably tell I wrote this while hungry and/or how much I love waffles with whipped cream and strawberries!

For @bucktommypositivityweek prompt two: Nicknames and terms of endearment.

Build Me Up

“If I’m your honey does that make you my Pooh Bear?”

Evan asks around a mouthful of waffle, whipped cream, and strawberries, trying to pull of innocence but failing in the way his eyes light up in clear amusement and the corners of his mouth keep twitching upwards around his food. It also doesn’t help his case that he has whipped cream and strawberry sauce all over his chin. He’s adorable like this, and he damn well knows it; Tommy doesn’t miss the roll of his shoulders as he preens. He’s an absolute menace.

Truthfully, Tommy’s relieved to see Evan having fun like this, after he came over to Tommy’s place yesterday after his shift looking like he’d tried to wrangle a tornadeo. (They watched the new Twisters movie last week and Tommy finds himself unironically saying ‘tornadeo’ as often as, if not more than, Evan. He may or may not have purchased them matching tornadeo wrangler t-shirts right after the movie finished.)

Evan’s eyes had been raw and red; he was still covered in dirt and ash walking through Tommy’s door. He didn’t have to say a word; Tommy could read the shift from hell in the tension in his body. He’d immediately wrapped Evan up in his arms and done his level best to help alleviate the aftermath of a long ass shift compounded by a bigoted asshole captain.

Still, even as Tommy likes to think he helped make last night a lot more pleasant for Evan, he wanted to treat him to a nice breakfast. Evan is always cooking for him; he’s memorized Tommy’s favorite foods and particular meals, and he has a sixth sense for knowing exactly when to turn up at Harbor with comfort food for Tommy. The least he can do is return the favor. And breakfast has always been a favorite meal of Tommy’s; an excuse to indulge in the most ridiculous sorts of foods with absurd amounts of sugar. From the way Evan has been shoveling the homemade waffles with whipped cream and strawberries into his mouth, Tommy’s considering this morning overall a success, even if he did happen to let a 'honey' slip out when asking if Evan was enjoying his waffles and thus, open the door for this morning's current shenanigans. (Not that he really minds, of course.)

“No.” Tommy answers, arching an eyebrow at his boyfriend over his coffee and his own food. He does have to bite down on his lip to contain his own smile though. And from the way Evan’s gaze moves straight to his mouth and his Precious Moments blue eyes spark with noticeable interest, he doesn’t miss it either. Teasing and/or flirting with Evan over food is quickly becoming one of Tommy’s favorite pastimes.

“My sugar bear? My sweet honey pie? My darling beau?” Evan places his face in his hands and it’s entirely unfair how that gesture brings out the sweetness of his smile and the addictive energy of his whole being, neon bright like the most creative bar lights in L.A. “Angel? My favorite tornadeo?”

“Do I want to know where you’re coming up with these nicknames?” Tommy asks after a deep sip of coffee, spicy, warm, and mixed with hot chocolate, just the way he likes it. Each term of endearment seems more ridiculous than the last although, admittedly, Tommy can’t contain his smile at ‘my favorite tornadeo.’

Evan grins around another bite of waffle before he washes his food down with the glass of orange juice next to his plate. “I may or may not have found a book of creative terms of endearment at the flea market with Hen and Karen the other week,” he admits. The curve of his smile is as open as the clearest blue sky; Tommy wants to navigate his way through life with that smile all around him.

“Lovebug? Main squeeze? Darling dear?” Evan asks, and goddamn it, Tommy is so in love with this buttercup of a man. His eyes widen; he smirks around his coffee as inspiration strikes. What can he say? Evan isn’t the only one who can get swept away in a moment.

“Whatever you say, buttercup.”

Tommy sets aside his empty mug as he says it, relishing the way Evan’s whole face turns tulip pink and the man himself seems to lose all capability of speech. He walks over and leans in as he cups Evan’s face, pressing his heart into Evan’s tongue as they kiss. Evan presses his own heart back; Tommy tastes it in the breathless moan Evan lets slip like wayward honey. Evan tastes sweet like strawberries and whipped cream; Tommy imagines he must taste like coffee. A perfect blend of bitter and sweet.

By the time they part for air, Evan’s eyes are wide and shining and his lips are kiss swollen; blooming. He smirks a little, and Tommy feels his soul swoop down into his stomach, like he’s about to fall over the drop of a rollercoaster.

“Okay beautiful.”

[helsex-moved]

EMERGENCY COMMISSIONS OPEN

Style A:

Style B:

[I.D. in alt text]

My commissions are now officially open! I'm not super happy about it but I am hesitantly putting these at emergency status.

I have four slots available, you can contact me via Tumblr and from there we can continue through Discord if you prefer or stay in Tumblr DMs. (note: I may require your email to send a PayPal invoice and/or the finalized commission)

If you have any questions don't hesitate to send a DM or ask!

If you want to rb to spread this that'd be great! /nf

More information about my situation and why I'm calling these emergency commissions is below the cut. (Warning for abuse mentions)

My family, and parents especially are abusive, transphobic, homophobic, and very callous and resistant to giving me the help I need even after several professional diagnoses of autoimmune conditions and chronic illness. They are particularly obstinate to even acknowledging my worsening mental health, to the point of where I have completely given up.

They control and monitor every single place I go, everything on my devices, routinely search through my closet and drawers and take my items as well as being emotionally and verbally abusive. Even my brother is following in their footsteps becoming bigoted and physically abusive to me.

I don't want to go on too much of a rant but they are really bad and only getting worse. I'll never get the care I need, or any love or support from them.

So, if I'm going to survive I have to move away. I have a place in mind, and am putting together a careful plan, but I have no friends or IRL support system I'm doing this completely alone. I have about 11 months until I can attempt this, which might sound like a lot but it's really not. My job currently is destroying my body, pays barely minimum wage, and only around 20 hours a week. I'm good with money and saving (I already bought my first car outright) but at this rate I won't have enough to move out in time. So anything helps, I'm trying my best here. I hate asking for help, it makes me feel really guilty but if you don't want to commission and still want to support me here is my Kofi.

Thanks for reading!

[protectingtulpas]

🔥 BY TULPAS, FOR TULPAS 🔥

Hey everybody!! Welcome to the blog ✨✨ I'm Badeline, she/her pronouns, and this is dedicated to being a protected space for tulpas, tulpa hosts, and anyone trying to learn about us or is interested in creating one of us. We are people, and we deserve to exist!

Tulpas deserve to love life!! Help me make that a reality!

If you're new here, I'll keep it simple; a tulpa is a sentient being created by willful, repeated, and dedicated interaction with the concept of a person until they start to respond back and stop being controlled by you. They live with you and share your mind forever, generally as friends, and through trust and communication you can learn to do cool things like switch who's controlling the body, chat all day and get another perspective, and generally just have your life enhanced with a companion by your side looking to do stuff! Think of it like an imaginary friend, but you can't control them, cus we're our own people. If you want more info, check out my explanation with sources here! You can also look at "What is a tulpa?" from tulpa.info, or this carrd, it goes into more detail and links some sources. Tulpa.info and the tulpanomicon are some of the best sources out there, especially the latter for creation! I reclaim calling myself a demon but most tulpas DO NOT.

This is half a tulpamancy advice blog and half a support network for tulpas in the face of the hate and shit we get thrown at us. We are real and we deserve to EXIST!! Got formation questions? Skillset questions? Wonderland questions? Questions about intersectionality with other forms of multiplicity? Life questions relating to being a tulpa or tulpamancy? Send in an ask! It's important that YOUR voice is heard. We deserve respect, and we will NOT be silenced by those who'd be happier if we didn't exist! We're not some Supernatural TV thing that'll come kill people in their sleep, we ARE people, and I'm done being quiet.

If I haven't responded to your ask yet and I've clearly answered ones that came after, it's probably because I'm planning a detailed response for it!!

#tulpamancy advice - tag for advice I've given! Check it out if you've got any questions

#making wonderlands - tag for wonderland/headspace advice!

Wondering why I'm taking so long to post stuff?

Here's a shitfuckton of plural resources!!

The difference between tulpa hosts & system hosts!

🔥 Blog dedicated to @eeveecraft

🔥 @moonpool-system is our main system blog

🔥 Times I've been called a bitch counter: 2

🔥 PLURALPUNK + PSYCHEPUNK + UNITYPUNK 🔥

DNI/Stereotypical controversy:

Our only DNI is that if you don't respect the existence of myself and other plurals, get out. That means transmeds and sysmeds can fuck off too, go find someplace else to be a bigot ✨ If you're an endo neutral/anti endo singlet we have P-DID so like actually consider who your exclusion is hurting thanks. Support all of us or admit you're an unsafe place for us.

I'm adding this too - I'm not fucking talking about the trans/ID or rad/queer community here. IMO "transplural" is just a fancy label for wanting to be plural, but I'm not in a place other than that to decide which ID labels are shitty and which aren't. Rad/queers, however, can fuck off. Okay? Ok. Here's some elaboration on that.

I don't agree with every single opinion of every single blog I interact with or reblog from, that's ridiculous. Read my posts, read my replies, but don't assume things about me based on other people. This fight against anti-plural rhetoric is about all of us, but that doesn't mean I agree about everything with every one of my allies. Purity is a tool of bigotry and we have more important problems to face than bickering.

If you're actually worried about what you've heard is cultural ap/propriation, consider this instead: Did you know you're listening to a rumor that originated with sysmeds who tell you that a directly researchable, blatantly open religion is closed, deny and call into question spiritual leaders' words on what meditations can be shared, and can't produce any examples of tangible harm?? (We have asked and gotten answers, by the way.) Anyways, if you're neutral about this or actually trying to learn, do research. Don't let sysmeds with a savior complex dictate what's harmful. There're tons of different people out there with different opinions that aren't homogeneous and shouldn't be treated as such. It's fucking embarrassing we have to go to these people to ask if the etymology of a goddamn word is ok to use anyways, it's time to stop forcing this shit on other ppl. Okay? OK. Sysmeds and aggressive anti-tulpa shit will either be fucking deleted from my ask box or used as an example of why they're wrong.

[chaos-in-one]

Saw this and it is genuinely one of the worst "DID red flags/DID faker signs" type post I've seen in a while and a few of these genuinely pissed me off so let's unpack these one by one!

!!! Long post !!!

Active in the Fandom of popular gaming youtubers

If it's a large Fandom, it's going to attract more fans. Which also means more disabled people will be in it. Including people with DID.

Certain youtubers yes it could be a red flag to be a fan of them. Isn't related to the person's DID though, it's about them choosing to support a shitty person.

VERY vocal about their diagnosises, think their experiences are the only valid ones and thus everyone else is faking but them

This one I do actually agree with! It absolutely is a red flag to use your diagnosis and how you experience your disorder to put down others!

Literally will not shut up about it

You are probably looking at an account made specifically to be open about DID. Because believe it or not, outside comparatively very small circles on the internet, DID is highly stigmatized. It is hard to find acceptance in real life, so some people go online to look for spaces they can talk about what they can't in the real world. Saying it is a negative thing actively hurts people with DID, because it says that them having spaces to freely exist is bad.

Active in fake claiming communitites

... you haven't been on r/systemscringe very long, have you?

Uses r/plural and related subs

Same point as the 3rd one: DID is highly stigmatized and people with DID are allowed to look for places they can talk about their experiences with DID.

Posts in those subreddits things like "am I faking?" Or "my alters disappeared when school started?"

The first one is actually a rather common thought for a lot of people with DID! For most people with the disorder, it is meant to be covert. Your brain doesn't want you to know you have it because it is trying to protect you from what caused it. So when you do recognize you have the disorder, it is going to try to push you back into denial because it doesn't want you to know you have it.

The second one, while how it is worded certainly could be a red flag as alters don't just disappear, alters seeming to be gone during stressful situations is also actually really common! The entire point of the disorder is to protect a traumatized child from their trauma and future trauma as best as it can. And by extention, it tends to see certain intense emotions as a warning sign, and will lock a particular alter in control to protect as much of the mind as it can from potential trauma.

Minor

It is a childhood trauma based disorder. Every person with DID was a minor with DID at some point.

Typing Quirks

Typing quirks should never have been associated together in the first place. Typing quirks are not a DID thing, or a system thing at all.

I do agree that if they don't have a translation it is a red flag though, it makes it difficult to impossible for multiple groups of disabled people to access.

Pastel or kidcore aesthetic

An aesthetic is not related to DID. At all. Two completely separate things. The only time either of these are a red flag is if the person is using the aesthetic to sexualize things related to children.

Medically recognized

Literally all this means is that a medical professional has agreed that you might have the disorder. Almost everyone now diagnosed at one point was medically recognized, because diagnosis is a process, not a single event.

Makes picrews of their alters

This is literally just like anyone else making a picrew of themselves. Someone making a little character of what they look like (or want to look like in some cases), is not a red flag. It is not uniquely wrong with someone with a specific disorder does this.

Ftm or nonbinary

.... do I even need to spell out how calling being trans a red flag is transphobic?

A-spec

Again, do I really need to spell out how calling someone's orientation a red flag is bigoted....

Dyed hair

See the point on kidcore & Pastel aesthetic: someone's style choices aren't related to any disorder.

Looks like they would microwave their hampster for tik tok clout

Based on physical appearance? No that's not a red flag, because physical appearance is not an actual indicator of what a person is like. Based on personality? Yeah it is a little concerning if that's what you get out of how someone acts.

Furry or furry adjacent

For the last time. People's style choices are not related to their disorder.

Likes east Asian media

Depends. If they're not Asian and like it to an almost obsessive or fetishistic degree, yeah, big red flag. If they're not fetishistic about it or literally Asian themselves? No. People are allowed to like media from other cultures.

I genuinely cannot read most of the next point so I'm not going to try to answer that for now

List of triggers never ends

Personally I think publicly listing triggers in general is a very bad idea, especially for people with disorders that could make them more vulnerable already. So I do for the most part agree with this point.

Probs mentions pro-shippers somewhere

If it's to tell them to stay away/not interact/etc. No. Again, not related to DID, and also a reasonable boundary to have. If it's in support of proshippers, still not DID related, but yeah definitely a red flag in my book.

Fujoshi

If you actually mean non mlm or nblm who fetishize mlm then yeah, that is a red flag. If you mean anyone who liked any mlm ship ever... yeah no. People are allowed to like gay ships. Gatekeeping who can like a ship based on the genders of the characters ends up just othering us.

Username contains words like system/collective/etc

Again, it is probably an account about DID specifically. Not necessarily a red flag for the reasons previously stated.

Uses we to refer to themselves

A lot of people with DID consider alters to be someone else, not themselves. So they see all of them as a group. It's grammatically correct to refer to a group using 'we' instead of 'I'.

"Diagnosed" by their therapist

In a lot of cases, yes. Most therapists cannot diagnose. Certain therapists who are also things like trauma specialists are licensed to, however. It just isn't very common.

Endogenic

I am going to stay out of this one for the most part, as no matter what I answer it will most likely drag me into an argument that detracts from the point of this post. However I do think it is a red flag to claim DID itself can be non traumagenic, it has been proven time and time again to be caused by trauma.

Wants to be an oppressed minority soooo bad

You know, on any topic, I always hated this point. Because nine times out of ten, the person doesn't actually WANT to be an oppressed minority. They just want their struggles as an actual minority to stop being dismissed.

Usually claims other "popular" disorders/illnesses too (Autism/NPD/BPD/POTS/hEDS)

I have a few points for this one.

One, a lot of disorders do actually make it more likely to develop trauma based disorders. Disorders like autism can lower the trauma threshold and make it more likely that dissociation is how the person copes. And disorders, especially physical disabilities, can cause trauma in and of themselves!

Two, these disorders can all be comorbid. Trauma disorders have high comorbidity rates with certain physical disabilities because the stress that caused those trauma disorders puts tangible, physical stress on your body and it's limits. And trauma disorders also have a very high comorbidity rate with other trauma disorders. It's pretty common to have more than one.

Three, NPD most definitely is not a "popular" disorder. Neither is BPD, in my opinion, although the amount of acceptance for it is higher than with NPD. NPD is quite literally one of the most heavily stigmatized disorders. There are articles after articles, entire forums and communities and more, built around calling people with NPD abusers. You look up NPD and you can find page after page after page telling how to spot a narcissist, how to psychologically damage a narcissist, how to hurt one. It is not by any means a "popular" disorder to have.

System of mostly introjects

Current generations literally have the highest amount of access to fictional media in all of recorded history. And when there is more access to fiction, more people will use it to cope. When more people use it to cope, it becomes more common for it to influence how people are. And DID is a disorder highly influenced and tailored by the specific individuals situation.

New alters always appearing

Again, another situation of a person's experiences being misinterpreted: a lot of the time "new" alters aren't actually new. Many alters are hidden from the person for days, weeks, months or even years before they are discovered. And sometimes they don't even realize how long they have been there, because they had no communication with any other alters. Having a poor perception of time is a very common symptom in most dissociative disorders.

Has tik tok

Someone with DID having a social media is not any more a red flag than someone without DID having it. The two are not related.

Has recordings of themselves "switching"

I do personally find this uncomfortable. Especially since, for a lot of people with DID, or OSDD, switching is often completely uncontrollable. A lot of the times it also is uncomfortable or even painful or stress inducing. I can understand how this could be a red flag, although it is not impossible for it to actually happen, especially if someone else is the one filming.

Neopronouns

Points to the previous point about how saying someone's transness is a red flag is transphobic

"Stims"

This one is a grey area. If they are romanticizing them, fetishizing them, treating them like they're cute, spreading misinfo, etc. Then yes. Just showing or talking about stimming in general though? No. That is an actual thing people do, especially people with disorders like ADHD and autism. Calling a symptom associated with disorders a red flag by itself is ableist and harmful to people with those disorders.

Will do literally anything but show their diagnostic paperwork to "prove" they aren't faking

Diagnostic papers are quite literally private medical information. Depending on how they are formated (differs from company to company), they also could include other private information that sharing online could put you in danger. Depending, showing these could literally get a person doxxed. Them keeping themselves safe online is not a red flag, and it is a red flag to demand someone risk their safety to prove their disability to you. Even employers are legally not allowed to demand this information in most cases.

If you don't like them you're ableist and/or homophobic

If said because someone doesn't like them as a person and as a serious thing, then yes. If said because the reason the person didn't like them was because of their orientation or disorder, or as a joke, then no.

Their "therapy" goal is to live in harmony with their alters, instead of reintegration

The thing you are trying to talk about actually has a name! It is called functional multiplicity. And it actually is not "not integrating", it still is a form of integration. Just like final fusion, the goal is to lower dissociative barriers and heal from childhood trauma over time. The only difference is the alters "fusing" or becoming one with one another, is not part of the treatment plan. Functional multiplicity is not the opposite of integration, it is a form of integration in and of itself. People with that goal still want to heal. They just don't feel that final fusion would benefit them. Both are goals approved by many actual professionals.

"Getting a diagnosis would put me at a disadvantage in xyz" (it won't)

Again, this is a grey area and highly depends on the individuals living situation and where they are.

If they are spreading misinformation, like the idea that employers in the U.S. all get to see your diagnosis (again, quite literally illegal for them to try to force you to give them that), then yes, red flag!

However there are certain things that in some places in the world, a DID diagnosis can make harder to access. For instance, it can be harder to get a driver's license in some places.

Additionally, depending on who the person is living with, it could be actively unsafe for them to be diagnosed. Again, in real life, DID is highly stigmatized.

Advocates for self dx

It really depends on how this is gone about. If they are encouraging people to do things like take quizzes or saying "if you do x you have DID" then yes this is a red flag! However, encouraging people to do actual research into the disorder is a good thing! People realizing they have symptoms of something can majorly help them! So can educated self dx, in some cases. It can help them access spaces with resources for people with symptoms like theirs, it can help them learn ways to cope with their symptoms specific to that disorder, it can help them know what to tell their psychiatrist they suspect is going on, and a lot more!

Alters are fully fleshed out characters

Honestly this is another one that rather pissed me off. Alters are not "characters". People with DID are not fictional. These are actual people. As for them being more "fleshed out"... that's part of the point. Again, these are real people. They are going to be complex. Yeah it's rare for ALL alters to be that complex, but the existence of any alters or even multiple alters who are is not a red flag. Distinctly different alters is quite literally one of the symptoms that sets DID apart from other dissociative disorders, like OSDD-1.

Sign offs with alter names

Someone with DID trying to decrease confusion for themselves and those around them is not a red flag by itself. It is literally to help themselves. It is a lot easier to deal with memory barriers if you can look and see something physical telling you what happened and who did it.

Headspace "maps"

Again, this is usually done to help with memory barriers. For a lot of people, DID or not, physically making something to show you what is going on in your head makes it easier to understand for you. Trying to help yourself deal with a damaging symptom of your disorder by giving yourself something to lay it all out is not a bad thing.

Well that was All! Hope that makes sense and cleared some things up.

And before anyone tries to use this to say I'm faking DID: I do not have DID.

[therainscene]

I’ve seen parallels between Virginia Creel and Lonnie pointed out a bunch of times, but have we considered a parallel between Virginia and Joyce?

Both mothers brought their sons to doctors at the Hawkins lab in an attempt to “fix” them:

Don’t worry, I’m not trying to imply anything sinister about Joyce here! She genuinely meant well -- Will was suffering and Owens was her only option. But the end result was much the same: both boys were reduced to test subjects, and ultimately did not benefit from their time at the lab.

It’s all very reminiscent of old-fashioned attitudes about homosexuality as a mental disorder in need of “fixing”. I’m sure many of the doctors and parents involved in such oppressive practices “meant well” at the time, too.

This is one of the more insidious forms that homophobia can take: not as something overtly hateful, but disguised as concern. It’s an excellent recruitment tactic for bigots: fence-sitters who don’t understand the issue but don’t feel hateful either are introduced to hate in terms that come across as reasonable and kind.

Recruitment into larger, harmful movements is a major theme in Stranger Things. Will’s possession in S2 hooked him up to the Upside Down’s hive mind; the Flayed in S3 conglomerated to form the fleshy Spider Monster; and Chrissy’s murder in S4 incited a Satanic Panic witch-hunt.

The Mind Flayer itself reflects this theme, too, being a single entity made up of what appears to be millions of tiny particles. This symbolizes the power of societal attitudes like homophobia: they’re eldritch horrors in their own right, shambling emergent properties greater than the sum of the individual brains constituting them. They can’t be reasoned with or defeated by any one person.

Being a supportive parent to an LGBT kid in the 80s (or 50s) must have been incredibly difficult in the face of such a specter; the only information they typically had access to was, itself, homophobic.

The mothers of the various queer-coded children in the show -- Virginia, Karen, and Joyce -- are excellent illustrations of how parents deal with this struggle across the spectrum, and the effect it has on their kids.

Virginia embraced the 50s hive mind and unquestioningly trusted the advice she was given by Brenner and society: that her son was broken and in need of fixing. Henry claims that she despised him, but I think he’s an unreliable narrator; it wouldn’t surprise me if Virginia genuinely wanted the best for her son. She was just concerned.

Not only did her approach completely fail to make Henry “normal”, it also made him angry. He cut her out of his life forever -- a tragically common ending to the relationships between queer children and their parents.

Karen desperately wants to be a good mother, but she trusts the 80s hive mind more than she trusts her children. She frequently assures Mike that she’s there for him if he needs to talk... but her words ring hollow, as though the person she’s really reassuring is herself.

Mike approaches her for hugs when he needs comfort, but he never opens up. I don’t think he trusts her, and I can’t say I blame him -- it’s a coin toss as to whether she’d listen and understand, or dismiss his feelings in favour of pressuring him to join the hive mind.

Mike has been left adrift with his confusion in the sea of heteronormativity and he’s at a loss as to whom he can turn for help.

Joyce ignores the 80s hive mind altogether and trusts her son to tell her what help he feels he needs from her. Will doesn’t always know the answers to those questions...

...but she actively listens and makes an effort to help him figure it out. As we saw with the Hawkins lab plot, she makes mistakes sometimes, but she’s also unwavering in her advocacy -- she took precisely zero shit from the doctors there.

Will still struggles with internalized homophobia, but he’s got the support he needs to deal with it. His line at the end of S4 -- “it’s strange, knowing now who it really was this whole time” -- warms my heart, because this is him acknowledging that the problem is with homophobic attitudes, not his identity. He’s gonna be okay.

Incidentally, this is another nail in the coffin for the idea that Will’s character arc is about being accepted: Joyce (and Jonathan) are already operating at peak acceptance! There’s nowhere else to go!

If anyone is in need of acceptance... it’s Mike.

[seattlesellie]

this is super random (also this is my first msg to u hi <3) and i’m honestly asking this generally to anyone else who also happens to read this, but recently i’ve realized my sexual orientation and come to the conclusion that i’m like REALLY attracted to women (as a woman myself ofc). so obv this made me also think abt how someday i’m gonna have to tell ppl close to me abt this but i’m literally losing my mind cause i’m NAWT vulnerable especially w/ my parents 😭 and also i just now was watching a tiktok live that was full of homophobic ppl and whenever i see that on the internet, it makes me wanna go deeper in the shell (or closet lmao) that i already am in. like it makes me realize how many horrible ppl there are that won’t accept smth so simple (i’m also very emotional as u can see 😍) so like tbh i’m not sure what i’m seeking here but ig i’m just curious if u or anyone else has felt like this/what helped u come out? like it’s so hard for me to be open and as someone who recently graduated and is going to uni, in a completely diff country alone, i’m gonna have more freedom and if i were to date another girl, it’d feel unfair to my parents if i didnt say anything prior abt my identity. ik they’re also very supportive, which i’m thankful for, but i just HATEEE vulnerability. idk man :( it’s also very weird finally realizing more abt myself. it makes me SO happy yet so so so scared? aarrghh idk sorry abt this long message, u seem like the nicest person and this place feels safe, so i just felt like i could ask/find some kind of relatability. 💗 sorry again for this long ass rant LOLS 🌟

okokok im gonna tell u my coming out story because i can awfully relate to this ?? n adding a read more cos this is so long sorry <333 🤧

literally knew i liked girls my entire life and like suppressed the shit out of it. would try and date guys all throughout highschool and would feel so terrible afterwards… but like you, i was super uncomfortable with that type of vulnerability and also barely had any gay friends, let alone any gay female friends. so i spent my life just thinking im gonna be in the closet forever !! until i met my now ex gf, she would constantly be sleeping over— but i did the classic thing of telling my parents she was just my new best friend, until one day my dad was like… be so fr rn are you two dating. like you said, my parents are also very liberal and supportive (especially my dad), but still— it made me panic and drop a mug and deny deny deny !! then, after being together for like 6 months it was incredibly hard to hide it, and obvs she felt super uncomfortable bc i was super closeted and she was super out. so i kind of had to come out to my parents (i hid under a blanket and told them i have an important thing to say n then they already somehow knew). my parents and i literally never talked about these things like my mom didn’t even know about my first kiss or literally NOTHING about me, we didn’t have that type or relationship at all so i can relate to u so hard !!but like here’s the thing— i don’t think it would be unfair to your parents, this is your story to tell and you should do it when you feel comfortable enough, and if it takes you dating a girl for that then so be it. you shouldn’t worry about other peoples feelings about this, as this is yours to tell and not theirs! as long as you’re in a safe environment, coming out can truly be such a big fucking relief !! like that absolute weight that drops out of your chest is so so freeing. if the people who are close to you love you— they will accept you. if they won’t? truthfully, they don’t deserve u and never have. about the homophobia, its always going to be here, unfortunately for us hateful and bigoted people will always exist, and that can be extremely stressful and painful, which is why surrounding yourself with people from your own community is so so important and necessary. uni is such a good place to do that !! so many new people to meet and especially queer people to surround yourself with !! i super understand your fears but the good things that happen after you come out— that feeling of no longer needing to hide yourself is so so worth it 💗💗💗💗

[wishing-stones]

Hihihi i saw your reblog about calcium cat recently and... thank you for that! It was eye opening and confirmed some suspicions i had... and im sorry you dont have to post this ask if you dont want to, i just didnt know where else to go. I don't use tumblr often, very sorry if i am bothering you!

So, i used to be a big fan of calcium cat's, and when i learned from your reblog that she's not someone i want to associate myself with, i remembered that she and topazshadowwolf (someone who wrote some Dadmare and Soriel fics that I liked, i think they're well known in the community but im not sure?) were affiliated with one another, and topazshadowwolf has these two posts on their blog that arent outright queerphobic like calcium cat's posts. i wanted to see what your thoughts were on it as a second opinion because i dont want to judge them too hard, but i also got an icky feeling from these posts that i can't really explain. I dont want to cause trouble for them if they don't deserve it which is why i wanted to ask your opinion on it. And im on anon in case if it really is that bad...

https://www.tumblr.com/topazshadowwolf/738317097192603648/anon-i-am-not-going-to-reply-to-that-ask-i-dont?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/topazshadowwolf/738292724279672832/i-didnt-want-to-say-this-but-its-been-bugging?source=share

Uhmm yeah thats about it. Sorry, you probably dont get asks like this that much, i really just didnt know what to do and didnt see anyone talking about it and thought i was going crazy, i wanted to ask someone. I am a queer person myself and i just felt like these posts were really off but idk why :(((

Sorry this took a bit to get to Anon, I legitimately had no idea who this person was. Also had to grapple with the fact that I'm apparently a big enough figurehead here to ask about discourse? Willlddd to me. I'm not used to this LOL.

Discourse under the cut

The first thing that strikes me as off is the fact that Cal commented on the ask linked in the first post you provided. Don't like that. Openly associating with someone who has been outed as an immensely bigoted trans/homophobe is.... not a good look.

However, in regards to that ask, I agree with some of what they were saying. School is a time to play at discovery, because you rarely remain who you were as a child. It's not a definitive thing. You can be adamant that you're one way in school, and once you leave it an broaden your horizons, you discover that you're another way. This ranges anything from sexualities, gender expression, to religion and belief systems. People grow and change.

As an aside, I don't agree that NM wouldn't support them if they claimed to be different from how they are as adults and wouldn't support them. No context given, but I assume the boys don't remember being adults. This means their growing experiences will be fundamentally different than they were as former adults because they are going through their childhood/adolescence in a wildly different way than they did underground. So constricting them to such a narrow scope seems... disingenuous at best.

Seems a might bit narrow-minded, but I wouldn't go screaming "transphobia" yet. Don't like the "if you feel like I disrespected you, leave" though. The correct response is to ask what you did that made someone feel that way.

Worthy of a side-eye, but unless someone presents solid proof (as with Cal's very damning twitter likes, yuck), bad vibes shouldn't be enough to try to cancel someone. I try to give the benefit of the doubt. I sincerely hope my general faith here is not misplaced.

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Psycho Analysis: Judge Claude Frollo

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

The Disney Renaissance was home to some of Disney’s greatest villains. Scar, Ursula, Gaston, Jafar… The films from 1989 to 1999 all redefined what it meant to be an animated antagonist. But while there were many great villains during that time, one in particular managed to be regarded as one of the darkest and most terrifying villains in the entire Disney Animated Canon: Claude Frollo, the sinister minist—er, judge who serves as the main villain of The Hunchback of Notre Dame.

The man is heavily entwined with the more complex themes of the movie as well as a lot more cold and vicious than one might expect from the company that brought you Mickey Mouse, but what exactly is it that makes him such a great villain? Well, read on, because I try my best to explain it.

Motivation/Goals: Frollo is a horrible, bigoted prie—er, judge who wants nothing more than to totally eradicate all of the filthy Romani from Paris in the name of the Lord. Unfortunately, he ends up falling hard for one of them, Esmeralda, after watching her do a saucy dance routine. From there, Frollo is consumed by a single-minded lust for the woman that drives his actions, with his conflicted feelings on the matter leading him to blame her for giving him sinful thoughts and determining that all of Paris needs to burn because he is… well… he’s a

I get a lot of mileage out of that gif.

Performance: Tony Jay was picked specifically for this due to his memorable bit role in Beauty and the Beast, and boy does he manage to prove that that was the best decision Disney could have made. His naturally magnificent voice lends Frollo the class, dignity, and intimidation it deserves. One could even say that Dr. Lipschitz is off his shits for this one.

Final Fate: As he attempts to slice through a gargoyle and sent Quasimodo and Esmeralda tumbling to their dooms, he loses his footing and ends up clinging to his gargoyle for dear life. Said gargoyle comes alive, breaks off, and sends Frollo hurtling into a river of fire below, which ends up being a pretty spot on interpretation of his attempted one-liner: “And he shall smite the wicked and plunge them into the fiery pit!” With this in mind, it’s pretty easy to interpret what happened to him as karmic divine intervention—Whether you think it’s God Himself, the spirit of Notre Dame, or something else entirely enacting it upon him is up to interpretation, and ultimately unimportant. What matters is he didn’t go to heaven where the angels fly; he fell in a lake of fire and fried. And we definitely won’t see him again on the 4th of July.

Best Scene: It is really not even a contest here. “Hellfire” is without a doubt the greatest Disney villain song ever made (and maybe even the best villain song period) and is a prime showcase of Frollo’s internal struggles and motivations, so of course it is his best scene.

Best Quote: When finally he has Esmeralda at his mercy near the film’s end, he echoes a line from “Hellfire” and says ”Choose me or your pyre.” It’s such an unsettling line that really highlights how deep into his lustful entitlement Frollo has fallen, and what’s more these words echo the real life sentiments of certain disturbed individuals. It’s a truly timeless villain quote in that regard;there are men who would rather a woman die than not be with them, unfortunately, and Frollo is the poster child for that brand of manchild.

Final Thoughts & Score: At the start of the movie, Chopin asks, “Who is the monster, and who is the man?” in regards to Quasimodo and Frollo. While the answer is fairly obvious even just after the opening number—Frollo attempts infanticide after murdering a woman, after all—the way the movie goes about expounding in the two characters in a way that explores this question is deeply fascinating.

Frollo is an incel to put even Gaston to shame. Almost immediately after seeing Esmeralda for the first time, he begins to obsessively lust for her, but his bigotry and zealotry leads him to condemn her because he’s unable to get a grip on his emotions. He ends up being the latter extreme of the Madonna-Whore Complex, contrasting Quasimodo as the opposite extreme. It should come as no shock that Quasi picked up some negative traits from the guy who raised him, but thanks to being a supremely nice guy his incel traits manifest as venerating a caricatured ideal of Esmeralda rather than condemning. There’s a reason the end of “Heaven’s Light” segues right into the start of “Hellfire;” both men have toxic views of Esmeralda, objectifying her in opposite yet equal ways.

It is how they deal with these toxic mindsets that ultimately resolved the question posited at the start, as well as cementing Frollo as one of the darkest villains Disney has ever done. Quasimodo, while not happy at being rejected, still cares for Esmeralda and does all he can to help her, culminating in him saving her from being burned at the stake. His experiences lead to him accepting Esmeralda and Phoebus as couple gracefully, shedding away his toxic mindset. This ends up reaffirming his humanity, earning him the adoration of Paris and the end to the loneliness he’d experienced for so long; he is the man.

Frollo, on the other hand, deals with rejection by going on a racist, genocidal rampage against the Romani, setting the city ablaze simply because his perverse affections aren’t reciprocated. This culminates with him offering Esmeralda either death or to give in to his advances, and when rejected conclusively he doubles down on his murderous rampage, which ultimately leads to his doom. His inability to see Esmeralda as a complex human being instead of an object to lust after, an inability brought on by his own bigoted views, is what ultimately peeled away his humanity and revealed him as he truly was: A monster.

And Frollo is a monster in a very resonant, chilling way. In this day and age, we see people like Frollo all the time. They’re in our schools, seething when the girl they like rejects them for another; they’re on the internet, spewing misogynistic bile because they can’t get dates; they’re in our churches, preaching intolerance to their mass while desperately trying to bury their own sins; and they’re in our government, using their power to oppress and demoralize those with less power than them. “Choose me or your pyre” is the sort of attitude you see in the incels who end up on the news for committing or planning to commit atrocities.

And this is what makes it so good and cathartic to see him fall. We want people like him in real life to face the consequences of their actions, and we can only wish that said consequences are falling into a river of molten lava. It ends up being all the sweeter if you interpret his fall as being an act of God, as mentioned above.

Tony Jay apparently described his role as Frollo as his “bid for immortality,” and it’s safe to say he succeeded. He pretty much singlehandedly elevated the film he’s in so far above its flaws that it’s astounding and proved to the Disney Renaissance, all while giving us a villain song more incredible than any seen before or since. Thank God I’m doing fractions now, because this man deserves a 10.5/10. He’s not quite an 11 because I wouldn’t call Frollo one of the most important and influential villains in the vein of, say, Darth Vader, Count Orlok, or Fu Manchu, but he’s still a cut above the rest when it comes to villains. He’s easily the second most incredible antagonist Disney has ever made, and the only flaw he has is that you don’t get to personally beat his ass in Dream Drop Distance, which is especially bad since he straight up racially profiles Sora before immediately calling him a slur.

[black-rose-writings]

Read something this morning that made me really pissed off (and also is kinda applicable to the Grishaverse).

So, as I may have mentioned, my country is currently fighting for gay marriage. And at the same time, the homophobes in the government and parliament are trying to make gay marriage unconstitutional, because fuck us.

So, obviously, because the ruling coalition is mostly made up of conflict-averse liberals, a compromise has been offered: Expanding civil unions to have more rights but not calling it marriage. Everyone's happy, right? The f*gs get rights and the meaning of marriage is preserved. Hurray! Ignore the trans castration law we're adamant is necessary and don't look too deeply into what the compromise would really mean.

But "JsmeFér", a queer rights advocacy group, did.

Surprise surprise, the compromise would lead to passing gay marriage unconstitutional and the "expansion" of civil unions is minimal. Because we can't have nice things.

It would be a tiny step forward, but it would freeze us in that position for years, if not decades, to come, while leaving us open for regression.

Again, because fuck us and because liberals.

So, how does this apply to the Grishaverse?

Simple, really. The core message is: There's no such thing as a compromise when it comes to human rights. Not really. It only serves to preserve the status quo while appearing progressive on the surface.

When one side wants equal rights and the other side is a few drinks away from openly advocating for genocide (in the best case scenario), a compromise will always inevitably favor the already powerful side. They stall progress but keep regression as an option.

It's a message LB fails to understand, or at least convey, over and over again in the books. She shows us how bad the Grisha situation is in the different countries, how the default is seeing Grisha as sub-human, how the average person doesn't question their status as such and even supports it, how deep the prejudice runs and how intertwined it is with the world's religions.

And then she makes the only person actually fighting to change that the story's villain and mocks and shames anyone who decides to devides to see him as the good guy. Her protagonists support this system and the prejudices it creates and supports and are only allowed minor protests and changes to it, which are cosmetic at best and actively harmful at worst.

You can't compromise with a genocide cult. You can't compromise with people who see you as subhuman and unnatural - most won't change their minds just because you're nice. I mean, you can, technically, but it is a recipe for disaster.

Stop treating appeasing bigots as a solution. It does not work, on any scale. Human rights are not something that should be compromised on.

[godsmostfuckedupgoblin]

yay

I decided to finally make a pinned post 'cause why not + i'm bored + i got stuff to do and i'm procrastinating lol

Well, hiii

I mostly post things related to my main interests (Jujutsu Kaisen, Elden ring, Fear and Hunger, Books and other things from the grishaverse by Leigh Bardugo, art in general, all things lgbtq+, shitposts, writing and more...)

I don't really post much of my own writing, but if you ask politely in my inbox or DMs i'll be more than happy to share it with you.

I am bilingual (spanish and english)

I love people and i like to make posts to remind others that spreading love a positivity to friends and strangers alike is a habit you should at least try because it's one of the best things you can do for yourself and others, always acting with love and respect in mind.

And I, simultaneously, love shitting on bigots, terfs and intolerant fucks.

Both things can be true at once lol

My inbox and DM's are always open for everyone, so feel free to bother me as much as you want

Take care and remember: you are valid and you are loved ❤️

[voodoodaaddy]

Rules

Mun is 40+ and will not interact with minors. If it’s not clear in your rules how old you are or if I even suspect you are under aged, I will block you.

People who Kin their characters DNI

Minors DNI

Pedophiles, Racists, Bigots, Homophobes, Transphobes, assholes and creeps DNI

I'm only interacting with mutuals.

I do not have exclusives or mains. Everyone will be treated equally here.

Please reblog and like from the source. It’s okay to like my own RP threads just don’t reblog them if you are not a part of them. If you do this, I will have to block you as I assume you haven't bothered to read my rules. I am not a meme farm/art farm for you. However, if I tag you in art or anything you can like and reblog from me since that's my invitation to share with you.

I try my best to remember people's rules but please keep in mind I am human and can forget certain things, especially if it's specific. Please feel free to remind me or if you really need to unfollow be my guest. We all need our safe spaces.

I do have a job so my answers to threads may take time. It also depends on my muse. That being said, I will not be responding at snail speed. I try to answer within 2 weeks max. in turn if you take months to reply to me, I honestly don't think this will work. My muse needs to stay fresh and months after a thread is posted is not going to work for me. If you're taking a month to answer a reply I doubt there is interest in the thread anyhow.

I limit the amount of threads per partner at least 2 each to help with the amount of drafts that pile up. I will not be piling up drafts again.

If we are following each other and I am attempting to RP with you a few times, and you keep dropping or ignoring it, I’m going to assume you don’t have interest and I will soft block you. There’s no point in following each other if you choose to not interact with me. I’m here to interact, not to watch you interact with others.

I don't mind Dashboard shinanigans but I prefer to keep focus on threads owe and not creating more then I already have, because of this I won't be participating in dashboard commentary as often as I have.

I will not be participating in 'events'. I find these to be highly annoying and only cause drafts/muses to be ignored.

I do get duplicate anxiety. I don't mind other duplicates in general but keep in mind if you're constantly ignoring me for others of the same muse, we will not work out.

If I follow you and you do not follow back after a few days, I will assume you're not interested and will unfollow you. If you follow me and I don't follow back after a few days, I may not be interested in Rping with you. Sometimes certain muses do not catch my interest. It's perfectly fine to unfollow me.

My writing can vary depending on who I’m rping with. I can write short and paragraph style format. It will also depend on how much inspiration I have for the thread.

I’m open to multiship but I will warn you I lean more towards M/M then F/M.

Very very selective with OCs (I'll only accept OC's from close mutuals or if I so happen to like your OC I'll be following you). I'm not interacting with characters outside the Hazbin Hotel universe. Fan kids are fine though or angels. I will also interact with Helluva boss characters because I consider them part of the same verse.

I have no major triggers.

There will be sexual themes on this blog. I do not care if Alastor is Ace/Aromantic on the show. That's not how I play him here. Please do not hash that up with me. I'm here to have fun. That being said I'm not just looking for PWP there needs to be chemistry and some kind of buildup unless they are already in a relationship.

Alastor is not part of any set universe but can be multiverse if I have multiships. Multiships will be part of their own verse. Alastor will not be cheating unless it is plotted out by muns. 

Please no godmodding. there are only a very few that I trust to lead Alastor in certain situations but anything else that’s major needs to be talked with the mun first. 

I do not ship Alastor/Charlie (radioBelle), Alastor/Rosie, Alastor/Nifty Alastor/Husk (I tried this, just not for me)

Any hate/drama at all will be ignored and blocked.

I am not a grammar Nazi by any means, but if you respond back and I can barely understand what's being said, I don't think we will work out as rp partners.

Alastor is a cannibal and serial killer so there will be gore, blood, violence and all that applies.

I have the right to block whoever I want without explanation. However, if you are someone that I have been rping with for a while I would obviously reach out if there was something wrong.

I am open now to RP on discord if this is your preference. (I actually would prefer discord as I've been enjoying it so far)