#not I wish you were never born but I wish I never was

[jealousmartini]

hi! i saw ur post where u mention age change with loa and could u talk more about that? cause i just turned 20, but i wanna be 17 again just so i can experience teenage things (i had depression and extreme social anxiety my whole teenagehood). i wanna feel young and do things right, apply everything i know now to this time in my life cause i can't help but feeling so old speacially since i have zero "firsts", like i'm 20 and no first crush or first kiss (ik it's not the end of the world, but i want back the expirences i was stolen from). i don't wanna over-explain myself nor trauma dump on u, but basically i just wanna start over yk? i know nothing is impossible to loa, truly know, but this one wish makss me insecure cause that will mean i was born in 2007 instead of 2004 and my old classmates werent really my classmates which is okay cause i never liked them but instead i had different ones that i don't know? i don't know if i'm making sense here, sorry to be asking u these things but ur the only person i've seen talking about age change so i'll be very thankful to anything u have to say to me. hope u have a good day :)

This ask unironically made me frown, like so hard, knowing that manifesters like you have to ask if starting over is okay because of the heavy misrepresentation and misunderstanding of manifesters and shifters who age change.

My love, OF COURSE you can. I cannot believe we have come to the point, on the interent as a whole, that people feel that they need to ask permission on what to do with THEIR LIVES, because the all high and mighty LOA police feel like they have the right to dictate what others should and shouldn't do with their lives.

And God forbid you don't obey them because then they'll throw every derogatory name, they'll diagnose you with every mental illness they want to insult you with (that they don't even understand), they'll assume that utmost worst about you, and take to their side of the community to shame you infront of them all. It's genuinely appalling.

Which is why I finally reminded myself a couple years ago that these people are not my mum. I have free will to do what I want with MY LIFE and whatever they say are nothing more than opinions that I can literally choose to listen to or to ignore. I refuse to fall into the trap of giving power, MY power away to outsiders and let them control me because real talk now, what are they actually going to do? At the end of the day they can cry, shout, rip their hair out on camera an tell me how insne I am for not having the same views as them, but none of that's stopping me from sleeping with their mum AND dad in another reality

Long story short, my answer is yes, you can start over and change the year you were born hun. You can do whatever you want because this is your call. Do what YOU want, not whatever the LOA police deems acceptable by their beliefs

[1800naveen]

Until.

Wander.

Tamlin often wandered around the Spring Court. For a while, he lived in his beast form. He felt a sense of freedom in that form. He could run, run, run, and nobody would stop him. But now, he was walking in his fae form. A feeling of melancholy surrounded the Spring Court, which was brought to its knees by his former lover and fiancé, Feyre Archeron, who was now the High Lady of the Night Court and both mate and wife to his former friend and ally, Rhysand.

He had caused her pain so in return, she did the same to him. Manipulating and scheming to make this Court fall. His people were taken in by Tarquin, High Lord of the Summer Court and Tamlin was grateful for his generosity.

"Be happy, Feyre." were the last words he told her before helping her resurrect Rhysand from the dead. In return, she wrote Tamlin a letter.

"Thank you. I hope you find happiness too." It was a kind gesture. But could he find happiness? She was the one to ruin the damn court and drove his people away. Homes and nature burned to ashes by the armies of Hybern.

A part of him felt a twinge of guilt. He let this happen to his own home. He should've figured out something was wrong. He also knew that not all of the blame fell on his shoulders. The forefathers of his bloodline would be disappointed, that's for sure.

Especially his father.

He could hear the words coming from his mouth. "How could you have let this happen? Let a Mortal-Made Fae destroy this Court? An abomination of a High Lord. A failure that I have to call a son." Tamlin remembered how his brothers threatened to kill him if he wished to be a High Lord. "Remember this, dear brother. Remember these words when you wish to think of the words "High Lord"." Weylin, the second-born, had whispered to him after he snuck into Tamlin's room at the dead of night.

"If you dare to pursue being worthy. To be chosen by father. To be his heir to the Spring Court. We will put an end to you and make sure you never see the light of day again. Do you understand?" Cian, the first-born, spat out. Tamlin could hear the poison, the venom intertwining in his words. The boy he had once been only nodded. He didn't have much power back then but it feels like he doesn't have much power even now.

Cupping his hands into the stream, Tamlin splashed his face to stop thinking about those thoughts. A gentle breeze made his hair sway. It was now down to his mid-back as it was once before.

Conflicted.

That was the word to describe how Tamlin was feeling. Conflicted.

A part of him felt smug for being crowned High Lord when his brothers terrorized him about it.

A part of him was glad that Rhysand and his father killed his family but not his mother. She was the only one who he mourned.

Tamlin loved his mother and he knew that she loved him too but when his father, Taranis, was being a tyrannical piece of shit, she turned a blind eye. How could a mother do something like that to their own child? To their own son?

A sigh left his lips.

His brothers were right.

Perhaps they knew the future of him and what would happen to the Court.

And a part of him wished that his brothers had killed him. He wouldn't have to be burdened with the title and responsibilities of a High Lord. The Spring Court would still be thriving. He wouldn't have to go through all this pain. But maybe in another life, he would be a traveling minstrel. He would go around and sing songs, speak of poems, limericks, ballads, but most of all, he could play his fiddle to his heart's content. He would have his own group that he would call his family. A ragtag team of misfits.

His own family that would love him, flaws and all. A family that wouldn't leave him behind.

It had been a gift from his mother for his tenth birthday. He had to carve his name into the fiddle so that his brothers wouldn't take it from him. Luckily, they didn't break it or toss it away as it kept him from High Lord. But they did make fun of it. However, Tamlin didn't mind. He had more talent in his fingers than his brothers had in their entire body. Besides being warriors and strategists.

A door creaked open. It's been a while since Tamlin was in the manor. It was a mess, of course. He really needed to clean it up. Most of the mess was created by him when he felt his emotions all pent up. And the rest came from him neglecting the home.

Now or never, Tamlin got to work. In an attempt to tidy up the manor to the best of his abilities. This would take a while.

The living room and kitchen were the only things Tamlin cleaned up. Some other time, he would clean the upstairs.

A broken mirror was on the ground, facing down. Tamlin carefully picked it up so that he wouldn't cut himself. Half of the shattered mirror pieces are still laid on the ground. He would have to fix it later with paste. The other half of the mirror was intact, showing half of his face. He went to hang it up on the wall of the living room.

"You've changed." Tamlin spoke himself as he stared into the mirror. The light in his green eyes was dimmed. Sadness and loneliness danced in his eyes in replacement.

A shell of a male.

He let his anger, frustration, and sadness consume him and he was now what people thought him of.

A beast.

A monster.

And a villain in the eyes of those he wronged.

He traveled far beyond the path of reason.

"What troubles you, Tam?" That voice. Tamlin hadn't heard it since he died. Killed by the woman he once loved.

Andras.

Brown hair tied back, rich tanned skin, and eyes the color of amber that were filled with mischief. That used to be filled with mischief.

"It's been a long time, my friend." Tamlin turned to face Andras. He stood there as a spirit. Was he going mad to the point he could see ghosts?

"It has." Andras' eyes darted from place to place as he studied the manor. "And what the hell happened here?" "A long story." Tamlin replied. "Ah yes. A story that I'm aware of." That made him still.

"How?" His voice was hushed but the tone was filled with uneasiness. "I've been wandering around the Court ever since I was killed. Prythian too but I prefer to stay here." Tamlin needed to sit down. He stumbled to the couch, putting a hand to his head.

"My job was done when Feyre put an end to my life but deep down, I knew it wasn't. And I was right. Because here you are, all alone with nothing but your sunken Court." "Thanks for your kind words, Andras. I love to be reminded of that." "You're welcome!" A stupid grin grew on his face.

Oh, how Tamlin missed it.

"I don't know what to do. I don't know where to start." Tamlin muttered. "With what?" "With everything." He fell back, hitting the cushions. Andras didn't say a word but walked up to Tamlin, helping him sit back up. "How are you touching me?" "Don't question it. Let me help." Oh, he hated those words. Tamlin never liked getting people's help. He believed that he could do almost anything on his own. It was one of his flaws; his hubris.

"Tell me everything. What happened?" Andras' face showed gentleness. "I thought you knew." "I know half. I did say that I wander around Prythian, not just the Spring Court."

Tamlin rolled his eyes but still, he told Andras everything. Under The Mountain, him locking Feyre up in what he thought was protection, becoming a double spy for Hybern, Feyre dismantling the Court, Feyre and Lucien leaving together, Tarquin taking in his people, Hybern's armies bringing damage to both Spring and Summer, the war, helping Feyre bring Rhysand back to life, and finally, Rhysand coming to mock him during Solstice.

A wince came from Andras. "That's rough, buddy." "Indeed." Now annoyed, Tamlin stared off into the distance. None of the males said a word to each other. Only let the silence fill the air.

A clock ticked calmly. Like a metronome.

"Tam, listen to me." Tamlin slowly turned his head to Andras, waiting for whatever Andras was going to say.

"Do you remember when you were crowned High Lord?" How could he not remember? He could still recall the memory, even though it had been centuries.

"May the Mother bless you and the Spring Court. All hail Tamlin Lysander, High Lord of the Spring Court!" Ianthe, his former childhood friend was the one to crown him.

All hail Tamlin, High Lord of Ruin.

Since that day, he knew that no amount of self-sought fury would bring back the glory of innocence.

"I do. And what does my coronation have to do with anything?" "Being a High Lord, you're in charge of the land and have duties to do. You're in charge of Spring. The land that is ever-changing." That was false though. The Seasonal Courts were in a permanent state of the season it represents. Mother, he sounded like a smartass.

"Spring is a new beginning. A new transformation. Staring over and staring anew." "What are you getting at?" Tamlin was starting to tire.

"What I'm saying is, you are the High Lord of the Spring Court. You are the land and the magic. You are Spring. So act like it." Tamlin raised an eyebrow.

"When flora begins to bloom, bloom alongside with it. When the light shines upon, shine and burn bright. When something new is planted, take root and grow. Change has always been and will always be possible. We cannot fix our past mistakes but we can reflect back on it, see what we have done wrong, acknowledge it, and grow." Andras took Tamlin's hand into his.

"To grow is to be reborn. To live is to suffer but to love as well. You are so much more than your fears. Than your anxieties, your anger, and your sadness." Woe climbed Tamlin like a ladder, tears threatened to fall but he wouldn't let them. He never did like to cry in front of people but with Andras, maybe it would be alright.

"You were the poet of us three but it didn't mean I couldn't pick up a few things." Andras shot a wink. Tamlin chuckled, the tears going back into the depths. Him, Lucien, and Andras. The death of their dear friend was hard on the both of them but mostly on Lucien.

He viewed him as his younger brother even though Andras was the second oldest; Tamlin being the eldest and Lucien being the youngest.

"I promise you this," Andras' grip got tighter. "I won't pass on until you are better. Until our home is better. I refuse to leave you until that smile of yours returns, until the light in your eyes is radiant like an emerald once more. I will not give up on you, so don't give up on me." "Thank you, Andras...Thank you." Tamlin whispered the last thanks, almost like a prayer. His head fell onto Andras' shoulder and his arms wrapped around like a snake.

He wanted to get better. He wanted to be better. He would get better, be better than the male he once was.

"Walk with me." Tamlin lend out a hand for Andras to take. Both of the males' hands clasped together.

They headed outside.

Birds chirped here and there. Woodland creatures scurried on the grass. The air was calm and chill. The sun was being to set which let the sky a beautiful orange, red, and purple.

Tamlin and Andras' hands were still intertwined. His thumb moved up and down softly, soothing on the High Lord's hand. Almost like a lullaby.

510 years, Tamlin had been alive. His childhood was one no child should ever have. He only had a few friends as making friends was a difficult task. Rhysand then came to mind. He remembered how Rhysand would find him everytime he had time to. He taught him fighting techniques that were native to Illyrians. They ate, drank, hunted, trained, laughed, and fought together. He even made wrote him letters, poems, and limericks. A memory played in his mind where the two were away from the war camps. Tamlin was resting on a tree as he played the fiddle and Rhysand rested his head upon his lap. Not that he minded. It didn't mean anything.

But their fathers ruined it and for what? A insipid rivalry?

Inside of him, Tamlin felt a small sense of hope that one day, they would reconcile. He was a fool to think it.

Rhysand was a winged insect (quite literally) while Tamlin was a funeral pyre. Sadness and anger crackled and twisted like flames within him.

A deep breath in and a deep breath out. Tamlin felt a heavy weight lift from his chest. Something in him stirred. Feelings and emotions.

Not the negative ones he grown accustom to but something new.

Hope.

It was the breath of fresh air that he needed.

Out of all of the Seasonal Courts, Tamlin assumed Spring wasn't all that important compared to Winter, Autumn, and especially Summer. But he was wrong.

Spring was life coming back into the lands and blossoming hope all around.

Summer, in many eyes, was the best season. A season of light, warmth, adventure, and happiness. But when Summer retreated, Autumn took its place. Leaves began to fall and colors changed from bright to dark, the temperatures cooled down and people would soon harvest for Winter was coming.

With Winter, brought the death of nature. The most deadliest season of them all. The night-darkness, would come earlier than before. Many things would come to an end but it wouldn't be forever. Celebrations would be held during the season; for family, for loved ones, for surviving another terrible winter, and a new year approaching.

And with this new year, things would change yet again. The snow will melt, the ice will thaw, and winter would bow as Spring came into blossom.

"For you." Tamlin broke from his thoughts to see Andras holding a rose in his hands. "Be careful of the thorns." He took the rose without worry. Not fearing if thorns would cut him.

"I love you, thorns and all." were the words he once said to Feyre. Who would he say the words to now? He had no lover. But he had himself.

"I love you, thorns and all." Tamlin said to himself, in the back of his mind.

He was not a monster.

He was no villain.

And until that day comes when he could prove it, he would work and work.

He would not spend his immortality in rage.

He would not let anger consume him, control him.

Until the light in his eyes shined brighter than a thousand suns.

Until he could love himself.

Until the day that he could look into a mirror, smile, and know that he was a lovely reminder of how beautiful change could be.

Until he was the true High Lord of the Spring Court once again.

(This is my first writing piece that I've shown people so I hope you'll enjoy or like it. His family never got names so these are my names for them. Lysander just fits Tamlin; It means "Liberator" or "Freedom".)

(THIS FEELS LIKE SHIT, UGH!!)

(Wait, would this be a Tamlin X Andras? I swear I didn't mean for that. AND YES, I REFERENCED TAKE ME BACK TO EDEN! IT'S A KICKASS SONG!)

@viktoriaashleyyx here's that add, hope you like it👍🏾

[whumpbby]

Every time I see someone questioning "why Mu Qing was do resentful of Xie Lian" and coming to some fantastic conclusion I have to grit my teeth, because the answer is obvious.

Mu Qing came from poverty. How could he not resent Xie Lian, even if he wished to be friends with him?

He was in a drastically different situation than Feng Xin, who was sure in his position as the prince's bodyguard - it was guaranteed that he'll become someone of importance when XL ascends to the throne.

Mu Qing was a low-born servant - his whole life was at XL's whim. XL being a "good person" didn't mean shit - it's easy being good when you have everything going for you. It's easy to say you want to help the "common people" when you have the means to do so and little awareness of how complex life outside of the palace is.

From MQ's point of view (because he didn't have insight into XL's mind) XL was playing a hero (like the French royalty playing the simple cottage life) because he could and people loved him for it.

There was jealousy there, sure, but MQ wasn't jealous of how good XL was - he was jealous of how XL came from conditions that allowed him to "be good" and how XL was praised for it when it really cost hims very little.

Xie Lian could have been the best person in the world, and Mu Qing would still side-eye him, because someone with so much power over you is never just "a friend". Friendship means standing on a level field, and no matter how Xie Lian felt about Mu Qing, they have never seen eye to eye when they were humans.

[thinkingofausername]

Micah Bell headcanons:

He's only ever seen sleeping after he's gotten drunk so I imagine he has nightmares (aside from the fact he has extreme trust issues and can't let his guard down enough to sleep)

He didn't have a relationship with his mother or she died when he was little or she was abused by her husband. He never mentions her, we don't know anything about her. We know what his view on women is like. I imagine he got it from his father. He definitely wasn't born out of love

He took the majority of his father's wrath. We know firstborn Bells are traditionally named the same, so I believe there was a lot of pressure there

He's actually not all that cynical. He wants to be. All that talk of "nothing matters" is him trying to convince himself

He secretly wants companionship. It's been confirmed that he wanted Dutch to be a part of some sort of family of his. I don't think he's as much of a lone wolf as he wishes he was

He has abandonement issues. His brother left him and made another family and it affected Micah. It's seen in the fact he wrote to Amos as well as his behavior after his brother's answer. After Amos cuts ties with him for good he says "I want tomorrow to mean more than today. I want this whole damn shitshow to have some kinda meanin I haven't understood". He secretly resented his brother for doing what he never could - make a connection. He can only talk to people if he's riling them up

His father definitely forced him to perform his first kill. Probably when he was very young, so he would "toughen up"

In theory, I can see him having a somewhat good relationship. If his partner was tough they would have his respect. Trust would definitely take a while, vulnerability even more so, but I think he would show care in his own way - being posessive and protective, letting them handle his guns and horse (peak trust). We know how much he cares for his belongings. There would probably be passionate, adrenaline-filled sex after action, patching up wounds, cleaning guns together. A "partners in crime" sort of thing

He'd probably like bites and scratches during sex. Marking up his partner as well

He gave into the "hardened outlaw" life because he believes those are the cards he was dealt and the only ones he would ever have. He probably never thought he had a chance to be anything else

He definitely has a phobia of dogs or something similar. He very avidly reacted to Cain every time he got close, he even flinched one time

He genuinely laughed with Javier when they were drunk. He even said "I love you fellas". There was definitely a humane side of him, very deep down

His father never held any pride for him, god forbid praise. He craves hostility because it's the only thing he knows. He purposefully riles people up and laughs off every insult he receives

He obviously held genuine respect and admiration for Dutch. He wasn't just using him or manipulating him or buttering him up for betrayal. I genuinely believe he was looking for a place of his own. He never really showed an authoritative side or desire to lead. He said it himself that he's a survivor. It wasn't ambition, it was just searching for shelter and stability. That's why he ratted - the stability was gone

He died miserable. I could go on and on about his death but the main points are - he calmly accepted getting shot, he shrugged and silently fell to his death. That was not a man who saw a future for himself

I left the most biased headcanon for the end. Not to be the "I can fix him" girl but I genuinely believe a softer side of him could've been drawn out. I believe he could've had a "ride or die" person of his own. Two survivors, watching each other's back, suspicious of others but not each other, enjoying the uncertainty and freedom of life, two loose ends but tied together

[morose-melodies]

Before Pantalone became a harbinger, he was a servant. Before breaking his way into the gates of wealth, he was nothing more than just another face. But to noble-born you, he was the love of your life. You two would even sneak kisses behind the tall doors of your manor, and the windows to your room had always been left open for him.

Ultimately though, you could not stay together. The bourgeoisie loving the proletariat? Unheard of. The mere thought of it could bring a bitter taste to an aristocrat’s tongue. And that’s exactly what happened with your father once he found out. He immediately fired young Pantalone, and due to your father’s status, he was able to make sure Pantalone would never find a job within nobility again. And you too were thoroughly punished.

The last time you saw him, he was shivering due to the Snezhnayan frost, and you were cozied up in your huge fur coat within the walls of your carriage. You wished for nothing more than to swap places with him.

It’s been years since then, your family’s gone bankrupt, and you’ve all been shunned from nobility. But the Northland bank business has been booming, and there’s a familiar face within the snow that surrounds the bank. You would’ve never thought that it was your Pantalone.

The next time you’d see him, was when you had been shivering because of the cold. All your furs, jewelry, and clothes had been stripped from you to pay for your father’s debt. But now, Pantalone had been wearing a stylish fur coat, seemingly commissioned just for him. You two could only stare at each other. You were in disbelief, whilst he seemed less shocked, more pitying than anything.

You couldn’t believe that the once young, naive, doe-eyed boy that used to stare at you like you’d hung the stars has now aged into the older, cynical, slit-eyed man that now stares at you and your family like you’re a bunch of wild dogs. He offers to help you out of your.. predicament; his hand stuck out for you to grab. And like the ever-trusting person you are, still believing that the boy you once knew was the same, had hopped at the opportunity to take his hand. Unfortunately for you though, he’d only offered to help you. (Didn't expect this to be so long T_T rushed towards the end tho cus i got eepy)

I AM SO IN LOVE W UR WRITING

THIS IS SUch a good scenario tyty

things have gotten better since then.

well, that's how it seemed anyway. you could understand why he didn't want to help your family, and though you wanted them to be just as happy as you were, there was nothing you could do about it.

you had begged him to help your family for a while but he never budged - he didn't see the problem with not helping them. they had never done anything for him, they did nothing to deserve his help, but you deserved it.

things seemed too good to be true with pantalone - his manor was beautiful, the house staff were nice and he had a beautiful garden that conveniently had your favorite flowers.

things seemed too good to be true.

your closet was filled with clothing that seemed oddly familiar, oddly reminiscent of the old clothing you once wore, clothes that fit oddly well. your shampoo smelt just like the one you once had. rings pantalone had bought you without any prior knowledge of your measurements fit very well. and each night, just before falling asleep, you could hear your favorite song playing throughout the manor.

things seemed too good to be true.

and things were too good to be true. it had never crossed your mind that pantalone had been overly kind, it never crossed your mind that perhaps pantalone had an ulterior motive.

because why would you ever assume such a thing of him?? he had only ever been a sweetheart to you, in the past and present but... it had been a lingering thought in your mind these past few days due to a few... odd encounters with pantalone.

you would catch pantalone staring or he would stare a few seconds too long, his touches lingered longer than they ought to, and sometimes odd things would slip, such as him mumbling about how 'he couldn't imagine being without you again' and how serious he sounded or when he asked about your relationship with the gardener, saying the two of you had been oddly close and how he'd 'hate to have to fire him' since he was such a diligent worker.

pantalone had changed.

but, perhaps, from the beginning, he was different; perhaps from the beginning, he had an ulterior motive in mind.

[hnbka]

WILL I WISH YOU WERE BORN A GIRL SO I COULDVE BEEN YOUR BOYFRIEND I KNOW ITS NOT POSSIBLE NOW I JUST NEVER MET A GIRL I LIKE HALF AS MUCH AS YOU

[majoringinsarcasm]

Eldest siblings who are the mouthpiece for not just you but your siblings. Who take the brunt when someone doesn’t call, who is lumped into the lectures, who feel equal parts resentment and compassion. Anger and sadness. Hurt from many sides but cannot express that. Those who are so far into the Reliable or Accountable. The y’all when it’s not your fault. The both of you when you do everything right. Who get lectured on the phone for something your sibling Didn’t do. Those for whatever reason are stuck at home and cannot move out. Who don’t have reliable transport and rely on rides either from family or ride share. Who is and the best for siblings and also wish to sometimes be far far away so you can finally feel like you are not part of a collective.

We’re gonna be okay.

[letsplaythermalnuclearwar]

Homer!Odysseus and Epic!Odysseus would try to kill each other if they ever met

[grumpyghostdoodles]

Frisk: "Oh, so you make fun of Asriel for not telling humans apart very well, but then you go and do this? Shame on you"

---------------

The character design for the new kid of "The Fairly OddParents: A New Wish" is so unintentionally hilarious. Hazel looks like a very sweet kid, and retired Cosmo and Wanda was a nice surprise, but holy shit out of all the fandoms they could accidentally reference, im wheezing

[rubydubydoo122]

Memmememe, Cass and Jason would be besties—NO

As someone with four siblings, you hate the one closest in age with you.

BUTTT

You’re the ONLY person allowed to hate that sibling.

So like, they’re both ferociously protective of each other, but they can NOT be in the same room as each other without starting a fight that crosses the other’s boundaries.

Jason, in the library reading,

Cass: Stop breathing so Loud!!

Jason: BRUCE!!! CASS TOLD ME TO DIE AGAIN!!!

Later that day, Cass bashes a rougues face in for shooting Jason.

Cass, trying out makeup for the first time

Jason: what, you roll in mud?

Cass: BRUCE!! JASON SAID I LOOK UGLY

Later that day someone in Cass’s dance class said something along the lines of ‘makeup on a pig’ and Jason verbally dragged them through the dirt in hell, yet managed to not body shame or anything

At a gala both of them are in a corner away from everyone and bickering with each other over who gets the corner,

Cass: I was here first!

Jason: I found this spot first. Way back in 2014 when I didn’t have to deal with you having to legally share my last name

Cass: jokes on you, you move your feet, you lose your seat, just as you lost your place as second oldest. God, life was so much better when you weren’t around

and then a man comes up trying to flirt with Cass and thinks that Jason is just ‘the help’

Cass, fuming: that’s my brother, you ignorant balls for brains, If anything, you should be helping him

Jason, glowering: are you flirting with my sister? You’re older than our grandparents, what does it feel like being a groomer?

[grassbreads]

Man, genuinely there's little that excites me more than encountering queerness in fiction where I wasn't expecting it. I'm gonna be thinking about Kikuhiko/Yakumo from SGRS for so long.

Even setting aside the subtext of his feelings for Sukeroku, the narrative around his relationship to gender norms and his own expression is so fascinating. Guy who grows up steeped in rigid 40s gender roles and actively tries to enforce them, yet only truly feels like himself when he's acting on stage as a woman. Guy who says his life would have been better if he were born a woman and then refuses to elaborate.

[auquaticmoonlight]

ughhhh why is gender so hard to figure out. my body is like boom gender dsyorphia but won’t tell me noone about my identity

(I accidentally made an entire vent in the tags lmao)

[iniziare]

Tag drop: Jingliu

[hyunjinz]

.

[petergabrielyuri]

the best part of maurice hands down is when maurice shows up at clive's place just to say "your groundskeeper and i fucked nasty in your house." and then leaves his life forever

[kavehater]

Chappel Roan saying she’s sad she’s demisexual and then there’s me being aroace as a whole like don’t you think I’m even more sad 😭