#the way fandoms do it for pale twinks is different from the way fandoms do it for women and poc but its annoying in both directions

[pandoratheprocrasticreator]

in some fandoms, mostly media whose audiences skews younger, theres often an annoying minority who latch onto a comfort character so hard, they genuinely get mad at other fans for putting their comfort characters in situations that make them (the characters!) upset in fanworks. most of it’s, like, kids and teens who haven’t learned how to interact with people yet and theres a smattering of unhinged adults and either way theyre not like. the joking or ironic mad most fans get seeing those kinds of works. these fans’ vibe isn’t “fuck you op /lh” its more “fuck you op /srs/kys”

anyway i already think the concept of judging a work solely based on how its characters feel as if they’re real people with agency, instead of judging the work based on how it makes the audience feel/what the work is trying to say, is uhhhhhh braindead! but also if you look at the comfort characters some of these ppl have its like. most of them follow fandom trends. and by fandom trends i mean most of them favor the angsty, usually white and male, characters who have rly tragic backstories. they don’t have to be particularly well written characters though some of them definitely are. but they’re usually edgy and, i cannot stress this enough, very tormented by events that happen in canon.

anyway i think most of it boils down to people not knowing how to mind their own damn business and just avoid angsty fanworks if they’re not feeling it. but it’s like. buddy, if you can’t stand people making content about your comfort character Going Through Situations, then why did you pick a comfort character whose entire job in canon is to Go Through Situations

[creepylittlelady]

wait, I don't understand why fanon Masky is so hated?? /genq (I was never really that interested in him tbh so I only know shit about him.)

OKAY, I can answer this one!

I'm happy that the whole fandom turned around on Fanon Masky recently (at least, I believe it must have been recently considering Cheesecake Masky was a thing before I 'left' the fandom), since that version of him is a bit problematic lol

If you've watched Marble Hornets, then you'll know that Masky and Hoody are REALLY scary (seriously, I had nightmares about Masky for absolute weeks), and work against the Operator. However 'fanon' Masky is a loyal employee of Slenderman/The Operator (I'm gonna make a post addressing the differences one day), and isn't really all that scary?? From what I remember, he was mainly joked about as being the 'Sensible one' of the Proxy trio (Him, Hoody and Toby), who was basically the dude always tired of their bullshit. Not only is this the complete opposite of how Masky is, as he would NEVER work FOR his enemy, who literally ruined his life from childhood, but it also sort of flanderised him and no longer made him scary, which is something the Creepypasta fandom tends to do a lot lmao

Another thing is his sudden change of character design. A lot of old Creepypasta fanart depicting him from 2013-2017 show him with lighter brown hair and a yellow jacket, which isn't what he looks like at all?? Actual Masky has much darker hair and I don't think he's ever seen with that ugly ass highlighter coloured jacket.

There's also the complete change in his body type, definitely one of the most controversial things about Fanon Masky. Let me first say that I do not believe that Tim Sutton (Masky's original actor) is fat, I'm not sure WHERE the old Creepypasta fandom got that idea from. Fandom in general, especially the Creepypasta fandom, is quite 'fatphobic' from my experience. What this basically means is that if you're not a skinny twink you will be body shamed in every way possible. The Creepypasta character market has always been oversaturated with men who basically were twinks, with slim and pale bodies, such as Jeff the Killer.

I believe that making Masky so thin came from the fact that when the Creepypasta fandom really took off around 2013-ish, a lot of Creepypasta fans looked for content and eventually I believe that a lot of them must have stumbled across Marble Hornets. Upon seeing Masky and Hoody, two characters that could have passed off as Creepypasta characters (as most of the other characters in Marble Hornets looked like ordinary people), the fandom probably adopted them and adapted them to 'their tastes', no matter how good they were or not. It might have also been a game of telephone too, as maybe a Creepypasta fan's friend of a friend told them some info about Masky and they misunderstood and instead of who Masky actually was, saw him more as the silly goofy masked guy. And to be honest, I don't think the Creepypasta fandom has ever really been known for actually doing their research, so that misconstrued version of him just became canon in everyones minds.

Not that it was always that innocent though...

One titular thing about fanon Masky was his strange love of Cheesecake. I myself saw a lot of it in 2016 sewed into every bit of content for his character, and was confused on where it came from. Then, I found out that it was meant to be a joke SHAMING him for 'being fat'. I originally stumbled across this for the first time in a satire comic, where one of the panels is Hoody chastising Masky for eating cheesecake, stating that Masky will become fat. The cheesecake joke is one I've seen in some fandoms before, albeit in different ways and with different foods. For the life of me I cannot figure out why everyone decided to associate him with Cheesecake, but everyone just did.

Fanon Masky is a perfect example on how fandoms can flanderise characters to the point where they're unrecognisable; pull up a picture of Masky in the Marble Hornets and then a Masky fanart from 2015. The difference is STAGGERING. The Creepypasta fandom is very much infamous for flanderising characters, such as making Jeff a misunderstood bad boy, Toby a waffles-obsessed manchild, and Masky a Slenderman-loving, Crayons and Paper-having, Toby-hating, Cheesecake-eating twink.

TL;DR: Fanon Masky was made as a shitty misconstrued fat joke.

[jgnico]

Okay, I'm going to elaborate on my earlier post and to do so I'm breaking this down into two very important sections:

1. The JJK fandom's feminization and fetishization of Gojo as a character and in his relationships, and

2. The general issues with racism when portraying queer poc characters in relationships that happens in fandom culture.

PS: I'm not touching the topic of why male ships shouldn't be characterized in terms of sex or why saying one character is a bottom vs another is a bad thing. If you want breakdowns about that, I guarantee that there are resources and posts that you can find through google. It's a well-known debate and I'm only here to talk about the issues that come up with Gojo's portrayal in fandom.

Staring off, I'm gonna to remind everyone that Gojo is neither skinny nor pale. He's an Asian man that's not only well into the 6'3 range, but he's also extremely fit. He is not skinny. He is not a twink. He has never been portrayed within the manga as such. In fact, if you want a clear picture of his physique, Gege has given that to us in the most blatant way he ever could.

Gojo's a big dude. He has a broad chest, straight shoulders, and big hands. There is absolutely nothing slim about him.

Even if you wanna go strictly off the anime, he's still larger than pretty much every other character in the show. I think the only character that possibly has him beat size-wise is Todo, but they're still the same height (give or take a cm) with Todo having a more obviously muscular build.

But let's look at some official art for the anime as well.

If seeing him beside Geto and Kuroi doesn't make this obvious, I want you to look at Gojo in comparison to literally everyone else in this picture. (We're not counting Panda, because Panda's literally a bear.)

The only reason that Gojo looks "skinny" is because he dresses in clothes that fit his body type without clinging to him. They sit comfortably on his frame and give off a more lithe impression of his build. (Which I would hope that they do because his shirts cost more than my car and that's how any properly fitted/tailored outfit should look.)

When he's not in uniform or more formal attire, he tends to wear hoodies/jackets over loosely fitted shirts and pants, which gives him the same effect while using a different method.

So he's not a twink. It's just the clothes.

Now, I don't think that I should have to point out why he's not white just because he has blue eyes and pale hair. I don’t care if you can’t picture him as Asian, because that just means that you have your own issues to work through with someone more qualified than me. 

He's Japanese, end of discussion. 

That being said, the problem that we run into with Gojo despite all of this is that fandom thinks of and portrays in him the same way that they would any white twink character. He's described effeminately when nothing about his personality or physique are "feminine" in nature. A lot of his canon qualities and traits get left out or out-right contradicted (such as describing him as "slim/boyish" or “timid/coy" when he's none of those things) in an effort of making him fit the image that's been assigned to him, regardless of if it's true to canon.

And you see this very clearly when you look at the role he's given in fanfiction vs Geto, who has more obvious Asian features and a darker skin tone.

This is without any additional filters (as in no specific ships, ratings or languages, etc. No filters!) and while, yes, you can make the argument that Geto hasn't really been in the anime yet, it's a trend that continues and is a point I'll touch on later in this post. So bear with me. 

Note: I’ll also go out on a limb and say that the majority of the bottom Gojo fics are written from his POV vs the POV of the person that he’s with.

The reason that this is a trend is because Gojo looks like a "white" character. He has a lighter complexion, pale hair and blue eyes, which makes it easier for mostly white, female author's to put themselves in his place when they write him. And this is something that's been an issue in anime fandoms for a long long time. But broadening out into fandom culture as a whole, it's also how we get situations where white ships with white characters gain way more popularity than poc ships with one or more poc characters.

Fanfiction and fandom as a whole is dominated by white female content creators. They make up the majority of authors and artists, and always have. But this issue becomes even worse when you bring in poc characters, because you run into the problem where the character with more ethnic features (darker skin, darker eyes, etc) becomes the "male" stand in of their ships, regardless of personality or body type or age.

The top or bottom role that's assigned to characters often has absolutely nothing to do with those characters themselves. Its a form of self-insertion without being obvious and if you were to ask most writers/artists why they've given the characters the roles they have, they often won't have a solid answer other than a general feeling or their own preferences.

In contrast, a lot of poc content creators will fall to the other end of the spectrum and advocate for poc or more clearly ethnic characters to be portrayed in the same way as their white or white-passing counterparts. But they'll ultimately get shut down by white creators for "fetishizing" minorities. I've seen this happen so many times in the 10+ years that I've been in fandom and I know other poc creators have run into this issue as well, but if you point this trend out to white people in the fandom, they either won't agree with you or they'll be shocked that its a problem because its never occurred to them.

Which leads me to Gojo's ships.

While, I can't speak for Nanago (and won't speak for Gofushi/Goyuu; I'm not touching those ships with a ten foot pole) I'm going to take a wild guess that most explicit fics boil down to Nanami being Gojo's dom and any non-smut fics still mostly keep him in this role in a less obvious way.

So we still run into the self-insert through canon characters issue, but it's probably not because one is more obviously Asian that the other like we see with Satosugu.

I want to reiterate that this is with no additional tags other than the one for their ship. I haven't filtered out anything else. 

Even if you take away the "bottom" tags, the majority of their fics place Gojo in that role anyways. Despite Geto having more traditionally "feminine" traits that in a fully white ship would typically lead to most people making him a bottom (such as a more empathetic personality, tendency to crave familial bonds, and a more reserved demeanor on top of being smaller in stature to Gojo) he tends to get slotted in as the top in the relationship, oftentimes at a cost of those very qualities.

Note: Again, with most fics being from Gojo’s POV, just like what I’m guessing we see with Nanago.

I cannot begin to stress how many time I've seen Gojo and Geto described through actions and speech that don't fit their characters at all and while, yes, I completely agree that having certain qualities doesn't mean that you should fit into a certain role when it comes to sex, there is an issue that comes up when the default work around to that is "pick the pale character." Especially when you add in a heap of mischaracterization and physical descriptions that don't fit that character.

I guess to reiterate my original point, stop portraying Gojo as a twink, or worse, a thinly veiled self-insert that came with a backstory.

I genuinely don't care if you prefer him as a top or bottom. Do whatever you want with that because I can't dictate your preferences. I just ask that if you find yourself always putting him in a certain role or enjoy consuming media that does, try to do so in a way that fits him and is faithful to his character.

[legacysam]

"#*erases a rant about fandom cas characterization bc god who has the energy*" me. i have the energy. give me the rant.

*cracks knuckles* okay let’s see if any of these particular intellectual muscles still work.

I am always pro-cas-being-canonically-dickish posts (even if they are misleading one way or another, more on that later) because dear GOD this fandom loves to infantalize the man. He’s a “baby in a trenchcoat.” He’s dumb about pop culture and clueless about human things isn’t it adorable? SHUT UP!!!! And pls especially shut up if you’re using his ignorance as a way of making another character look cool or smart by comparison. “it’s a shortened version of my name” was 100% Cas fucking with Dean because he is a dick sometimes! and it’s great! Also: Cas’s indifference to pop culture isn’t a weakness just because pop culture knowledge is a major currency on tumblr!!! It’s indicative of the fact that he’s got much bigger and more important things on his mind. (Also. listen. This trait was canonically erased by Metatron and it was literally the only good thing that fucking character ever did so can we please as a fandom just acknowledge that little slice of canon? pls?)

(Can I also just say.....fish out of water stories are only good when they are on the side of the fish and not just using the fish to make jokes. Just. as a note on the trope in general but specifically re: every time this shows up in fanfic with Cas or any other similar character. Thor comes to mind.)

Anyway Cas isn’t a child, he’s ANCIENT and TIRED and CONFLICTED about major moral issues, which is FASCINATING for an angel character and forces us as an audience to consider more deeply the actual differences between heaven and hell, good and evil, destiny and free will. Is this how we expect an angel to behave? What does this tell us about Heaven? If Cas is an aberration, what does that tell us about Heaven and goodness and God? So his expressions of anger and frustration and his impatience with or indifference to human courtesies are a really great part of his character and people should appreciate them more (and not just when it’s funny!)

(Sidenote bc I always think about this when I think about fandom and Cas, the reductive fandom approach to “””crazy!cas””” (what a fun way of saying “deeply affected by horrible trauma and guilt and trying to repress it so he can function.” thanks for that fandom) as comic relief or a woobified victim is. hm. bad. That’s all I’ll say about that one.)

{ANOTHER sidenote, this one for fan artists in particular but fan writers definitely aren’t free from sin: Cas isn’t pale or short and he isn’t a fuckin twink pls stop projecting weird m/f stereotypes onto your queer ships pls and thank}

ANYWAY about these screenshots specifically: Listen I love this post but the context of these scenes is SO MUCH MORE INTERESTING than Cas being a dick to Sam. They aren’t really about Sam at all, actually. “Don’t ask stupid questions” is such a painful fucking response to Sam asking if he’s okay, because he’s clearly not okay--he’s still struggling with the knowledge that God has given up and abandoned them--but he can’t be vulnerable about it. So he redirects to ask what Sam needs from him because that’s what he does, it’s what he is, he’s a tool. He’s a solution to problems (except his own). And his unwillingness to confront his pain (while also not being able to hide it) isn’t really about his relationship with Sam, it’s about his relationship with God and with himself and his own failures. The visibility of that struggle while he continues to try to help in this episode is just really fucking moving, okay?

Also there’s absolutely nothing hostile about “Sam, of course, is an abomination” in context. Like. Not a damn thing. There’s a task that needs to be performed by a “servant of heaven,” and Cas is explaining why none of the three of them qualify, and we know he feels shame about the fact that HE doesn’t qualify by how he reacts later, calling himself a poor example of an angel. He’s as much an abomination as Sam is in this moment.

Actually you know what? Literally everything in these screenshots that gets interpreted as “Cas hates Sam” is 100% actually Cas hating himself. He hates Sam’s voice while he’s stuck using a human voice himself to communicate, through technology he’s hostile to because it’s limiting compared to angelic communication. He rejects Sam’s compassion because he doesn’t want to talk about his own weakness. He calls Sam an abomination in the same breath that he acknowledges that he isn’t a servant of heaven anymore, and with much less anger than when he later calls himself a poor example of an angel. He sees himself in Sam but he hates himself too much to use that as a point of connection and pushes away from it instead. (I’m not going to go on a shipper detour here but sastiel shippers....you know)

So Cas is angry and complicated and self-hating and yeah, it’s funny, but if you don’t respect those feelings and their complexity, maybe don’t try to write Cas or write about him. Maybe if you only like Cas when he’s making you laugh you don’t actually like Cas.

And this isn’t to be like...”writing fluffy shippy fic with Cas being sweet is bad” or whatever. That fills a need for some people, I get it. I’ve written fic where he’s sweet! There’s a difference between someone lovingly wrapping a character in a blanket and going “nice things will happen for you now” versus using that character for a reductive joke.

There’s also a difference between people who are actually carefully writing fic and people who are, yknow, tagging posts or circulating meme-like gifsets with this kind of commentary. Which, bc I don’t read fic as often anymore, tends to be the most common way anything like analysis of Cas reaches me. I do NOT recommend this method of engaging with fandom because it’s really the worst, unfunniest, most simplistic takes that get repeated over and over again (I would pay money to never see anyone call Sam “moose” or “sammy” again dear lord), and it obscures the actually really good work some folks are doing when they write these characters.

tl;dr 1. Cas is not a child and he is not stupid. 2. Cas doesn’t hate Sam but he DOES project onto him and it’s fascinating. 3. fandom wants to be transformative but bc of meme culture and the way tumblr works it can be painfully reductive and it’s exhausting

ps nb I haven’t watched a single episode since they killed Charlie off and I don’t know much about what happened after that lol. so don’t come at me “well actuallying” bc honestly I don’t care and bc canon has been a dumpster fire for years and all extended analysis of it including my own is really nonsense just by virtue of the source material being nonsense.

pps the showrunners are ABSOLUTELY complicit in this but I can’t. I just cannot get into that. I am too tired.

[bold-sartorial-statement]

jesus christ BARTHOLOMEW

jesus christ BARTHOLOMEW (628 words) by Thette / @bold-sartorial-statement for @amunetblack (whose AO3 username I don’t know) and @sproutwings

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: The Flash (TV 2014)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Barry Allen/Leonard Snart, Barry Allen & Iris West

Characters: Barry Allen, Leonard Snart, Iris West, Joe West

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Alternate Universe - College/University, Accidental Voyeurism, POV Outsider, POV Iris West, Crack, no seriously absolute crack, Age Difference, Coitus Interruptus, Embarrassment, sexual embarrassment

Series: Part 5 of My Coldflash Bingo, Part 16 of Strange little ficlets

Summary:

"jesus christ BARTHOLOMEW!" Iris blurted out, when she opened the door to Barry's room, and the way she said it left no ambiguity whatsoever about exactly where she used capital letters and not. She slammed her hand over her eyes, trying desperately to avoid seeing her best friend's skinny, white butt.

Notes: From Tumblr: 

"amunetblack: jesus christ BARTHOLOMEW

bold-sartorial-statement: I have no idea what this is a reaction to, and I don’t even want to know, because this is a Big Mood

sproutwings: I mentally read that in Iris’s voice and my brain helpfully provided a picture of the exact expression she’d wear.

bold-sartorial-statement: #excellent addition #the flash #now i kind of want to write the fic."

...so I did! It's for the Coldflash bingo square "College AU." Contains sexual embarrassment (Iris walks in on Len and Barry having sex in Barry's childhood room).

NSFW fic in full under the cut

"jesus christ BARTHOLOMEW!" Iris blurted out, when she opened the door to Barry's room, and the way she said it left no ambiguity whatsoever about exactly where she used capital letters and not. She slammed her hand over her eyes, trying desperately to avoid seeing her best friend's skinny, white butt.

It was kind of hard to avoid, seeing as somebody was riding a big, hard cock. Right there, in his childhood bedroom. On top of Grandma Esther's blue and purple quilt.

"Fuck, Iris, can you learn to knock for once in your life?" His voice was high-pitched and squeaky, and she could hear them scrambling for cover. She peeked between her fingers, and Barry had covered his bits with a pillow. The unknown guy was still mostly naked, though. And hot. And old.

She cocked her hips, leaned against the doorway, and crossed her arms, making no secret of how she studied the man in Barry's bed. Strong, tattooed arms; broad chest under a black tank top; condom slipping off his wilting erection; skinny, bare legs. Her eyes were drawn back to his face again, and his short, black hair with streaks of silver. "Didn't exactly expect you to be getting it on with Mr Silver Fox, here," she replied.

Barry blushed and stammered, more than usual, which only invited Iris to bring out her best teasing. She sauntered into the room, sat down on the edge of the bed with her legs crossed, and smiled. Barry always said she had an evil smile.

"I see that Barry is getting the full college twink experience. I hope you're rich, at least."

He laughed, stretching out his hand for her to shake. She looked at him, looked at Barry, then back again, and shook her head.

"I'm not touching that. God only knows where it's been."

"Fair enough," Silver Fox said, looking at his hands with embarrassment. "I'm Len, nice to meet you, though I can imagine a more pleasant situation to meet Barry's family."

"Oh," she said, her voice a deceptive silky lilt, "you ain't seen nothing yet. Did Barry tell you that Dad is a cop?"

It would have been fun, the way he blanched, if it didn't make her worried. She took a closer look at his tattoos. A spider web in pale blue spread across his upper arm. Prison tattoo.

Downstairs, the door slammed. "Hey kids, help me out with the groceries!" Joe shouted.

"We'll be down in a minute!" Iris yelled in reply. She turned back to the unlucky lovers. Len's eyes were wide, and his breathing was shallow. She whispered urgently. "Barry, get dressed and help Joe as quick as you can. Len, you can get down to the porch roof from my window. Careful, though, it's tin."

They didn't move. "What are you waiting for? Go, go, go!" She shooed them away, dragging Len to her room. He was still half naked, jeans in hand.

"I owe you one, Iris," he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

She grinned. "You've given me a lifetime of teasing material already. Now, get out, Bad Boy Len!"

Making as much noise as possible, she stomped down the stairs. "Hi, Dad! Whatcha get for us?"

"Sheesh, Iris, why are you such an elephant today, stomping around like you're wrecking the place? We're making chicken pot pie, and you're on veggie duty. Go on, help me put these groceries away. And where's Barry? You'd think he'd have time to help, if classes are as easy as he says they are."

Iris tuned out her father's grumpy complaints. In the distance, she heard a motorcycle starting. Barry sure didn't do things by halves. When he wanted a bad boy, he made sure he got one.

[thehollowprince]

I read this thing by Michael's actor saying he's a tragic figure & I had to laugh, because it's such peak white boy interpretation, of Michael as tragic because everyone "uses" him as if he isn't grown (he's not a child lol) and bemoans the witches viewing him as evil, despite him being the Antichrist + was excited about "killing their entire fucking coven" before they even knew him. Yet stans eat it up + cheer on witches dying yet also say they're obligated to ~redeem~ Michael lol

People bring up Michael’s tragic childhood and how no child deserved that, but they swoon over him slaughtering the witches, even the ones who never even met or harmed him, and some were most likely teenagers at most. And he talks about “saving” the world but he could’ve ended capitalism and exploitation of resources but naw, apocalypse time. Also, his edgy little “all humans are evil motherfuckers” line that his fans love is so eye roll inducing 🙄 yet he just needs luv right?

I got these yesterday and I’m sorry that it took me so long to get to them, but I was at work when they arrived and then I had a dentist appointment.  But now I’m all rested up and ready to tackle this.

It’s funny you should mention this, especially how many months after AHS: Apocalypse ended, because I’m pretty sure I haven’t posted anything about it since, but that’s alright because I’m always ready to stand by my opinions.  No, the funny comes from my best friend, who I got together with a week or so ago (the first time we’d been able to get together in about a month) and she was telling me about how she had to use the tag filtering function on Tumblr for the first time and the tag she blocked was Cody Fern.  Apparently one or more of the people she followed just suddenly became a Cody Fern appreciation blog and did that horrible stan thing where they waxed poetically about the actor and the characters they play, no matter how horrible.

And that was one of the things I didn’t get through the season.  Why so many people were so damn thirsty for this character?  I mean, had they never seen a pale, white twink before?  Was Slenderman suddenly a sex symbol?  It baffled me.  Especially considering how the character of Michael was introduced into that season, as a knock-off Lestat.  I mean… that wig and the velvet jacket?  (Shudder).  I mean, to each their own, but I still didn’t get it.

The other stuff, though; the woobification of the villain/antagonist of a series isn’t anything new, especially if they’re played by even a moderately attractive white man.  (Note: he doesn’t even have to be attractive)  This is something I’ve seen for years across multiple fandoms.  I’ve even made posts about it before, and complained about how disturbing it is that women (because fandom is overwhelmingly female) are so quick to put down any and all female protagonists in the name of wanting to fuck whatever pasty white guy is the villain.

Just within the show of American Horror Story we have literally every character that’s been played by Evan Peters (another guy that girls scream about how attractive he is but I just don’t see it).

But then we also have things like

Kylo Ren

Damon Salvatore

Klaus Mikaelson

Kai Parker

Theo Raeken

Stiles Stilinski

Severus Snape

Loki Laufeyson

And these are just the examples that come to me right off the top of my head from the shows and movies and books that I’ve seen/read.  I’m more than positive that if I were to branch out into other fandoms I’d find the same exact thing with just a different character.  The sheer amount of people that will stan a mediocre white guy yet completely ignore (and often villainize) any POC hero is astounding.  Just going off of the list I have above, we have characters like Scott McCall and Finn (from Star Wars) that are completely brushed under the rug to make way for either the sidekick or the actually antagonist of the story.  I’ve seen thesis-length metas about how they were really the villains of the story and that the true heroes were these other characters that they coincidentally wanted to bang (in this case, Stiles and Kylo).

People, it’s alright to like a villain.  I have plenty of villains I like and even sometimes root for, but to do so by twisting the character and turning them into the hero of the story (therefor making them totally OOC from their actual incarnation in the show/book/movie/etc.) just screams that you want to fuck the actor.  It’s not that hard to just make thirst posts about the actor (as cringy as some of them are) as opposed to tearing down every other character in a fandom in an effort to make the villain you like “redeemable”.

I know I got away from the point of the asks and the topic of Michael Langdon, but I just see this happen so often that they all sort of blur together for me.  Sorry anon(s).

[pashpops]

PASSION POP

Members: Sunghoon (leader), Jamie, $ticky, Kiwoo, Wooshik (maknae)

Fandom name: Fruits

Stage Name: Sunghoon Birth Name: Kim Sung Hoon Position: Leader, Main Vocalist Birthday: March 29th, 1994 Zodiac: Aries sun, Scorpio moon, Leo rising Height: 178cm Weight: 68kg Blood Type: O Favourite Colour: Red, black Favourite Food: Steak Least Favourite Food: Fish, especially tuna Hobbies: Singing, dancing, acting, photography

Sunghoon Facts: - Born in Seoul, but lived for 5 years in New York City. - Speaks Korean and English. - Only child, mother and father are also both artists. - Classically trained tenor who graduated from The Juilliard School with a Bachelor of Music (Vocal Arts) at age 20. - An accomplished musical theatre actor. Surprised everyone in his local troupe by suddenly becoming an idol. - Called “Explosive Sunghoon” because of his powerful vocals and hot temper. - Very strict, but emotional and easy to play tricks on. - Will not answer what his ideal type is, hates the question, will complain any time it’s brought up.

Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6mEBzMfTUi56Ebk6Sf5lkh

BEHIND THE SCENES DATA: - heavy cocaine and xanax user. “Not addicted” and “can quit at any time”. - former alcoholic, has slip-ups now and then but quit because it was affecting his physique, which he works way too hard on. - exclusively gay, was out predebut and had to go back into the closet to debut, so his predebut socmed has been completely wiped and there’s very little to find about him predebut that isn’t old cast bios from his acting days or group pics with old friends. Very into pretty twinks. - previously dated Minseok of B.A.D.D. while they were both in the same company in their teens, both were kicked out for constant verbal and physical fighting. - currently in a relationship with Jamie, but it’s kept very much on the down-low for obvious reasons. - undiagnosed, but probably has bipolar disorder alongside diagnosed (and again secret) panic disorder.

Stage Name: Jamie Birth Name: James Choi Position: Visual, Rapper Birthday: June 21st, 1996 Zodiac: Cancer sun, Leo moon, Pisces rising Height: 163cm Weight: 59kg Blood Type: B Favourite Colour: Electric pink Favourite Food: Everything, loves food, especially sweet, salty or spicy snacks. Least Favourite Food: None Hobbies: Video games, partying

Jamie Facts: - Born in Los Angeles, California, only moved to Seoul recently and is still a little bad at speaking Korean. - Speaks English and Korean. - Only child of a very wealthy single mother. - Member with the least amount of training, was only a trainee for a few months before debut. - Called “Crybaby Jamie” because despite having a flirtatious playboy image, he’s actually very sensitive and complains a lot. Got into a lot of trouble predebut because he’d run off to sulk without knowing the area around the company dorms very well and would get lost and have to be picked up. - Secret dance machine of Passion Pop. Can twerk and do the splits. His audition was a (pretty impressive and very jiggly) dance and (pretty impressively bad) rap cover of Nicki Minaj’s Pound The Alarm. - Ideal type is “a vampire-like person” who’s sexy and a bit cruel. Answers with a different cartoon villainess every time he’s asked.

Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5ngCFTz2DTPpZfJ4TDA9yH

BEHIND THE SCENES DATA: - diagnosed ADHD combined type, but was always bad at taking his meds in the US (often sold them as party drugs instead) and can’t legally get them in SK anyway. - total stoner, though obv it’s harder to get weed in SK than LA lol - party animal and frequent user of party drugs like molly and special k, tries to keep away from harder stuff and worries about Sunghoon. - hates the taste of alcohol so doesn’t get drunk much. Total lightweight who only drinks wine coolers. - HUUUUGE mommy issues, the joke is that he’s “sensitive” and “a crybaby” but ADHD rejection sensitive dysphoria + lack of any close familial relationships (doesn’t know his dad, mom is a wealthy socialite who works almost as much as she parties) means he’s left with poor communication skills, a huge fear of abandonment and disappointing others, very low self-esteem and needs constant reassurance. - due to spoilt upbringing, is very careless with his belongings, especially electronics and clothing. - doesn’t really see why people keep telling him he’s attractive, but his desire for being desired outweighs his low self-esteem. Plus he just likes being touched and kissed and fucked, so... - pansexual and very into older and more powerful types. Was very relieved to discover that Sunghoon was not only gay but also into him, because he’d been worrying about what he’d do if they debuted together and if he found out that he had a crush on him for months.

Stage Name: $ticky Birth Name: Jung Sung Ki Position: Vocalist, Rapper, Dancer, Composer Birthday: October 13th, 1993 Zodiac: Libra sun, Virgo moon, Virgo rising Height: 181cm Weight: 70kg Blood Type: O Favourite Colour: Yellow, sea green Favourite Food: Anything sweet Least Favourite Food: Greasy/oily food Hobbies: Dancing, DJing, cooking

$ticky Facts: - Born in Gongju, but has lived in Seoul since leaving high school. - Has a younger sister and an older sister. His older sister and parents worked a lot, so he’s used to taking care of his little sister. - Completed his military service straight out of high school. - Almost always wears big circle lenses. - Mother of the group. - The only one whose “image colour” (purple) is not one of his favourite colours. He accepts it because it matches the feeling of the group well, but he doesn’t think it suits him very well, and wishes he could swap colours with Wooshik (yellow). - Called “Softie Sticky” because he’s gentle, kind, and, despite being the eldest member, a pushover who just goes along with what everyone else wants to do. - Chose his stage name himself, based on the Japanese word “suteki” and because he thought it sounded cute. The dollar sign is because he is a Ke$ha fan. - Doesn’t have an ideal type, thinks the question is a bit shallow.

Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/59AorKrFqYSzCvfK4iES7V

BEHIND THE SCENES DATA: - genuinely has nothing to hide LOL - ok maybe he’s a bit more of a hoe than his kind and caring image lets on - ok a LOT of a hoe but in a sensual and adult way, not the desperate-for-attention way Jamie is. - open-minded about gender and sexuality, but doesn’t think much about his own identity and his flamboyance and feminine-coded behaviour is never really questioned given that he’s an idol and a tall and muscular one at that. “Doesn’t everyone just like what they like?”

Stage Name: Kiwoo Birth Name: Hwang Ki Woo Position: Main Dancer, Vocalist Birthday: April 14th, 1996 Zodiac: Aries sun, Aquarius moon, Sagittarius rising Height: 165cm Weight: 47kg Blood Type: A Favourite Colour: Neon green Favourite Food: Sour candy, fried chicken Least Favourite Food: Boiled vegetables Hobbies: Dancing, makeup, video games

Kiwoo Facts: - Born in Busan, moved to Seoul by himself at age 16. - Middle child of a large family (younger brother, younger sister, older sister, older brother). - Family owns a fried chicken shop, so he knows how to make really good fried chicken. - Fake maknae, always mistaken as the youngest because of his small frame and energetic personality. - Called “Smile Fairy Kiwoo” because of his ever-present smile and playfulness. - Big makeup fan, does a lot of his looks himself and sometimes does makeup for the others too. - Very stubborn, the “secret power” in the group. - The member with the most public recognition predebut, had won many dance competitions and had one of his dance videos go viral. - Ideal type is someone kind-hearted and taller than him.

Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0RQittX0WgAmbB0rG9PWOr

BEHIND THE SCENES DATA: - fairly obviously got his jaw shaved, as he had a heavy social media presence before debut and there’s lots of old and embarrassing pics online. - pretty much fine with showing his old pics because they’re basically unrecognisable and pretty funny but would rather die than be seen without his hair and makeup done as an idol. - has a LOT of connections within big companies like SG due to his audition blitz. - genuinely is just very skinny due to a natural high metabolism, natural high level of energy and intense dance practices, but has friends, some debuted idols, who struggle with EDs so he’s VERY bitter about comments implying that he has an ED, especially if they’re joking about it. - had serious issues with Jamie predebut and in their first year of promotions, but they get along now after having a heart-to-heart about their less than ideal childhoods.

Stage Name: Wooshik Birth Name: Kim Woo Shik Position: Main Rapper, Maknae Birthday: March 13th, 1999 Zodiac: Pisces sun, Capricorn moon, Taurus rising Height: 185cm Weight: 82kg Blood Type: A Favourite Colour: Anything pastel Favourite Food: Chocolate, pasta, beef Least Favourite Food: Winter melon, raw eggs Hobbies: Bodybuilding, dancing, drawing

Wooshik Facts: - Born in Incheon. - Has an 8 years older brother who helped to raise him as both his parents worked long hours. - His brother is a personal trainer and owns his own gym, so Wooshik started working out at a young age. - Called “Tofu Beast Wooshik”. Tofu because of his pale skin and soft and round face, Beast because of his massive and muscular physique. - The only member not intimidated by Sunghoon’s hot temper. - Has a lot of natural aegyo, but finds it hard to act cute on demand. - Total meme sense of humour. - Hasn’t thought about his ideal type, like Sunghoon and $ticky, he dislikes the question.

Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2Yl2LwrVijEwajWqO1NhN5

BEHIND THE SCENES DATA: - a little embarrassed about his muscular body, it wasn’t such a big deal when he was in the gym surrounded by other way bigger, older, and more ripped guys, but it’s very noticeable around slim idols. - also a little hurt by the “beast” nickname, as he’s really very gentle and friendly, even if he is a bit single-minded at times. - many people see him not being intimidated by Sunghoon as not respecting him, but he actually looks up to Sunghoon a lot, and as more than just his group leader.

[thejovianmute]

A Different Way Home, Ch 1 (FMA, Roy/Ed)

Title: A Different Way Home

Author: TheJovianMute

Rating: Explicit (in later chapters, this first one's pretty mild)

Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist (any, since it's AU)

Pairing: Ed Elric/Roy Mustang

Tags: Alternate Universe, Prostitution, Hooker Roy, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Rape, Violence, PTSD, Eventual Happy Ending

Summary:  Roy's standing on a freezing street corner, his body for sale and his pride long-since-gone, when the boy in the red coat approaches him.  

Author's Notes:

A long while ago, in a brief burst of confidence, I posted my first fic.  Since then my confidence tanked, and I haven't managed to convince myself to do it again.  Then Ed and Roy Week popped up on my dash, and I remembered I'd started a RoyEd fic which would pretty much fit the bill.  So I pushed myself to finish the first chapter properly, and here I am, posting it with an hour to spare - go me!  I'm determined to keep going with this one - I'm not a fast writer, but I'll get there eventually.

This is set in a modern-day, alchemy-less Amestria.  Roy's a little more broken than the one we know, and has fallen a lot further down.  I've come across a few hooker-Ed fics but haven't yet found one with Roy on that side of the fence, so decided to flip the tables.  There's some dark stuff in later chapters, but the payoff will hopefully be worth it - hurt/comfort is pretty much my favourite thing <3

Chapter 1:

Roy shivers in the freezing night air, the chill of the bricks he's leaning against seeping through the worn cotton of his t-shirt.  He'd kill for a jacket, but he gets more attention without it; the t-shirt a size too small to show off the lines of his body.  He no longer has the definition he once did, knows he's skirting the edge between slender and 'too thin' these days, but that seems to appeal to a certain sort of customer.

Not that he's having much luck tonight. He's been standing on this frigid corner for half an hour already without a hint of interest.  Business is always slow on a Monday night, he knows, but hopefully it will pick up - not only does he need the money, but even just five or ten minutes in a heated car would give him a chance to warm up a little.  He rubs his hands together, trying to create a little heat with the friction.  It's times like this that he almost - almost - misses the desert heat.

Roy's scanning for potential marks when he catches sight of the figure in red walking his way.  He squints a little to try and make out more detail; his vision is particularly poor at night, faces little more than shadowed blurs until they get within a couple of feet and he can make out actual features.  The figure's small, though, and has what he assumes is a spill of long golden hair over one shoulder.  Roy spares a moment to wonder whether the girl knows what kind of risk she's taking, walking through this part of the city alone at night.  It's none of his business, of course - and considering where he's ended up it'd be a little hypocritical for him to be giving advice on poor life choices.  The girl slides from his thoughts quickly enough as he goes back to looking out for tricks, occasionally stamping his feet, trying to restore circulation to his icy toes.

But the figure in red stops in front of him instead of continuing on past, and - despite what is indeed a long blond ponytail - the flat chest and angled jawline he can finally make out reveal the error in his assumption: this isn't a girl at all, it's a teenaged boy.  The boy has his hands shoved into his pockets, feet planted solidly, his expression a mix of curiosity, determination and defiance as he stares at Roy intently.

"Can I help you?"  Roy asks mildly.  

The boy's eyes are a bright, almost luminescent amber beneath the sodium glow of the streetlights, matching the fall of golden hair.  It's a striking look, especially paired with the black pants and shirt, topped by the blood-red coat.

The kid continues to stare at him, and Roy is just about to let loose a sarcastic comment when the kid abruptly finds his tongue, blurting:  "How much?"  The words seem to startle the boy as much as they startle Roy, if his mortified expression is anything to go by.

Roy raises an eyebrow, and then makes a show of looking the boy up and down.  He's not the best judge of age, but he doubts this guy is older than fifteen or sixteen.  "I don't fuck kids," he says bluntly.  The boy is cute, but even if underage was his thing - which it isn't - he wouldn't risk that kind of pick-up out in the open like this.

The boy's expression darkens, his face flushing with a sudden anger, but he makes a visible attempt to rein himself in before replying.  "I'm not a kid."

Roy raises both eyebrows this time in blatant disbelief.  

The kid scowls at him.  "I'm eighteen.  I'm a goddamn university student."    

It's possible, Roy muses, looking the guy over again.  He has something of an ageless face himself, able to pass for twenty as easily as thirty - another thing that draws his clientele to him.  The kid is short, only a scant inch or two above the five foot mark, but his build is solid enough, his shoulders square.

Still, it's better to be paranoid than arrested.  "ID?"  Roy asks.  

"Seriously!?"  The kid explodes, muttering dire invectives under his breath.  "I'm being IDed by a hooker?  What the fuck is my life?"

"You're welcome to try a hooker with a more flexible moral code if you so desire," Roy says, gesturing further down the street to where he knows some of the other guys work this time of night.  There's a small group of them that band together for protection, but Roy's always been a loner.  

The boy glances in the direction Roy indicates, but quickly shakes his head. "No.  No, I want you."  His cheeks flush pink with embarrassment as he says it, but his mouth presses into a determined line, as if daring Roy to doubt his resolve.

And that is interesting.  Roy wonders what exactly it is about him that's drawn this particular kid.  He knows that his mixed-race features are a draw for some men: the raven hair and dark eyes of his mother, combined with the pale Amestrian skin of his father.  But generally it's the bigger guys that go for the Xingese look; the ones who get off on having someone smaller and lighter to manhandle and dominate.  It's not something Roy particularly enjoys, but he's not in a position to turn down anyone willing to pay for his time.

Speaking of which.  The kid is reaching into his pocket now, still scowling, pulling out his wallet and flipping it open, sliding out a small rectangle of plastic.  He holds it up for Roy to inspect with a defiant expression.  It's unexpectedly appealing, the stubborn little V between his brows, the determined jut of his jaw.  So many of the men he encounters are jaded and emotionally numb, using him to try desperately to feel something, that this kid's spirit burns magnesium-bright in comparison.

Roy looks down at the card, making out the colour and layout of a local driver's licence, but in the dim lighting he hasn't got a hope of reading the text, and he curses his deficient vision yet again.  Still, it makes little sense for the kid to show him a licence which proves him to be under-age, so odds are it backs up his claim.  It could be a fake, of course, but these days the fakes are so good he probably couldn't make out the difference even if he could see.  

"All right," Roy allows, deciding to go with it for now.  

The kid puts the card back in his wallet and shoves it back in his pocket with apparent satisfaction.  "So, how much?"  He asks, repeating his original question.

Roy is somewhat nonplussed by the kid's stubborn determination.  The guy's gorgeous and seems personable enough, if a little forthright, and Roy wonders what the hell he's doing picking up a hooker.  The kid could walk into any gay bar or club and would draw men like flies to honey -

Roy knows exactly how popular young-looking twinks are with the gay crowd.  

Still, it's not Roy's place to question the motivations of his clients, he's just here to do his job and get paid.

"Four thousand cenz for a hand, six for my mouth, ten if you want to fuck me.  I don't fuck without protection, and anything kinky costs extra."  The spiel is rote by now, and Roy rattles it off without even an internal flinch - unlike his first few days on the job, when every crude word had bruised his sense of self to the core.

The kid considers this for a moment.  "What about if I want you to, uh, fuck me?"

Roy manages to keep his expression bland despite the unexpectedness of the question.  It's not something he's been asked for before - which is fortunate, because he's not the sort who can get an erection on command.  He's not sure he could get into it enough to be able to fuck a client; he can't recall many previous tricks who have genuinely turned him on.  And it's been a long time - longer than he wants to think about - since he last had sex because he wanted to.

His first instinct is to reject the request, tell the kid that that particular activity isn't on the menu, but something makes him hesitate.  There's a long-buried part of him that's flickering to life, tentative embers glowing faintly in the darkness.  The kid is gorgeous, there's no denying that, but Roy's had good-looking customers before and looks have never been enough to jump-start his engine alone.  It's a combination of everything about this particular kid - his earnest eyes, his stubborn, determined mouth, and the bright, aggressive flare of life inside of him - that draws Roy like a moth to a flame.    

He thinks, to his surprise, that maybe it's something he could do with this kid.  With him, rather than to him.  It's a dangerous way to think - he learnt a long time ago that trust and hope in other people only ever leads to pain - and moths are all-too-often consumed by the flames they seek.  But still, that faint, tentative flicker of desire is there inside of him, and he thinks that perhaps it could be fanned into flames of genuine - and perhaps mutual - want.

"Fucking's ten thousand, either way," he says, hoping it comes out more casually than he feels.

The boy nods acknowledgement, seemingly unaware of Roy's inner turmoil.  "So, where do you, uh… usually go, to do… it?"  He asks, wincing at the awkwardness of the words.

"Car or hotel, generally," Roy answers, resisting the way his mouth wants to curl into a smile.  The kid's naivety is amusing, but Roy can't quite help finding it adorable as well.  

"Would it be all right to go to my place?"

Roy shrugs.  "If you'd prefer.  It doesn't make any difference to me."  He usually ends up in cars or hotel rooms because his clients don't want a whore sullying their their own beds - even if they don't have wives or girlfriends to hide him from.  But Roy has no issue with the idea itself - a home is likely to mean heating, and a reasonably comfortable bed.  

The kid hesitates, and then asks boldly:  "What about if I wanted you to stay all night?"

"The entire night?"  Roy raises an eyebrow, and the kid nods confirmation.  

On a slow night he makes a couple of hundred.  On a good night, he can take home a hundred thousand, although those are the nights he ends up crawling into bed at dawn, feeling scoured and hollow and used.  But to be out of the cold for the entire evening is pretty appealing; tempting enough for him to apply a discount on what he'd otherwise be tempted to charge.  

"Sixty thousand," Roy says.  "Payment up front."  

Roy wonders whether the price will be enough to scare the kid off.  He hardly looks like the sort who has hundreds to burn on hookers whenever he feels like it.  Nothing about him indicates wealth: his boots are worn and scuffed and the tears in his canvas satchel have obviously been mended by hand.  Nothing he's wearing is designer or labelled.  He looks like any other university student, with enough cash to scrape by, even if the last few meals each month are instant noodles.

But the kid doesn't so much as wince, nodding as if the amount is entirely reasonable.

"All right, then," the kid says with satisfaction.  "It's a deal."

"Agreed."

There is silence for a few moments as the kid's expression transforms into something uncomfortable, his gaze sliding off to the side and his weight shifting from one foot to the other.  It's the sort of awkwardness he usually sees when somebody is working themselves up to ask for something particularly kinky or degrading. Roy has a moment to start worrying about what exactly the boy wants to do to him, before the kid seems to come to some kind of conclusion, raises his chin defiantly, and pulls the glove off his right hand to reveal a fairly high-tech prosthesis.

"Will this be a problem?"  The kid asks, holding the hand out towards Roy and curling each of the metal fingers closed and then open again.  With his other hand in a fist, he reaches down to knock on his left thigh, which echoes hollowly.  "Leg, too."

And that is not at all what Roy expected; he actually has to work to keep the surprise from his expression this time.  The boy walks and moves so naturally that Roy would never have suspected two of his limbs weren't natural if he hadn't been told. The mechanics and joints visible in the flexing right hand are more advanced than anything he's seen before, and the boy's obviously had them long enough to make controlling them second nature.

Still, he imagines that two missing limbs could potentially make things awkward when it comes to intimate relations, and for the first time he has some inkling of why the kid is approaching him rather than going out to a club to pick up.  He can only imagine the kinds of reactions the kid might receive from random hook-ups, especially in the gay scene, which tends towards the worship of bodily perfection.  

But Roy has no issues with damaged bodies, not after the kinds of physical trauma he's seen, and the damage inflicted upon his own.  If anything, he finds himself feeling an odd kind of brotherhood with this boy and his imperfect body, and he has a sudden desire to show the boy that desirability has nothing to do with being physically whole or perfect.  Maybe that's something he'll get a chance to do tonight.

"They're not a problem for me," Roy says, letting his expression speak his sincerity.

The kid's discomfort evaporates, his grin blooming fierce and radiant.  "Great!"  He declares.  "Let's do it!"

Roy lets himself smile this time - the boy's awkward enthusiasm is ridiculously endearing.

The kid winces as he twigs to the accidental double entendre, but he recovers quickly and holds out his hand.  "Oh, hey - I'm Ed."

Yet another surprise - most of his tricks remain deliberately anonymous, and those who give him a name use obvious aliases.  Roy never asks, and never offers his own in return.  But he has no doubt that Ed has just handed him his actual given name without a second thought, and something in Roy warms at this small display of openness and trust.  It also compels him to offer the same in return, despite his better judgement urging him to remain safely behind the shield of anonymity.   

"Roy."  The name sounds almost foreign to himself, it's so rare that he has reason to use it these days.

Roy reaches to shake the outstretched hand, realising at the last moment that he's reached out with his right while the kid's offered his left.  There's an awkward moment where he's forced to switch hands before grasping the one offered.  For a moment he just assumes the kid must be left-handed, and then it hits him - of course the kid prefers to shake with his natural hand rather than the prosthesis.  He wonders what other adaptations the kid's had to make to fit into a two-handed world.

The kid - Ed - doesn't seem ruffled by the moment of awkwardness, his grip firm and sure.  Roy doesn't think he's ever shaken the hand of a trick, either; apparently it's to be a day of firsts.  So far Ed isn't so much bending the rules of convention as shattering them, and Roy's usual ability to keep himself at a distance along with them.  He has to remind himself that no matter how friendly and sincere the kid is, he's still just a client.  It's one night's work, and then he'll probably never see the kid again.  

"Shall we?"  Roy asks, as Ed continues to simply stand and grin at him.

"Oh! Oh, yeah, hell yeah! Let's go."  Ed gestures for Roy to follow him, and Roy obediently falls into step beside him as they continue on down the street together.

Ed has no fucking idea what he's doing.

And Al is going to kill him.

He certainly hadn't set out to hire a hooker tonight.  He'd been fed up and frustrated as he'd left campus this evening, bored of the same rut his life has been stuck in lately, sick of the same paths he's been treading and retreading day by day.  The afternoon had dragged interminably and he'd grown more and more antsy and irritable, even snapping at Al when he'd called to let Ed know he wouldn't be home that night.  By the time he'd shoved his books into his satchel at the end of the last lecture, he knew he had to do something to try and break himself out of the petulant, pigheaded mood he'd sunk into.  He'd decided to start with something simple and take a different route home - he'd figured that maybe he'd stumble across a new take-away place, or a comic book shop he hadn't come across before.  

Instead, he'd found Roy.

The guy had caught his attention from a distance: a slender figure with his back temptingly arched, shoulders pressed against the bricks behind him, one knee bent with his foot flat on the wall.  He was only wearing a t-shirt and jeans, and Ed shivered sympathetically - the guy must be freezing his ass off.  All the same, the t-shirt did offer a nice view of his flat chest and belly, and the long, toned muscles of his arms.  

As he'd got closer Ed had filled in more details: straight black hair that fell to the tops of his ears, the shine of it a silver halo lit by the streetlight above, a stark contrast to the paleness of his skin.  His eyes were dark and alert, flickering to each of the evening travellers as they passed him by, assessing them intently.  He was the sort of good-looking that Ed found most attractive - sharp, lean and confident, with just a hint of danger about him.  The heat of want flared in the pit of his belly, startling him with its intensity - it was rare that Ed felt so attracted to anyone on first sight.  

It had taken Ed an embarrassingly long time to realise that the guy was a hooker.  He'd already passed several men loitering along the street who had watched him go by with the same contemplative gaze, but he hadn't really thought anything of it.  It wasn't until he found himself in front of the guy that all the pieces fell into place.  A few moments later he realised he was standing there staring like an imbecile, and was receiving an assessing look in return.  

"Can I help you?"  The guy had asked in a rich, smooth tenor.  He was well-spoken, his accent precise and refined - not what Ed had expected from a street worker, and for a few moments he was taken aback.

And then, without any actual input from his brain, he'd blurted: "How much?"

Ed was caught somewhere between horrified and aghast at his own impulsiveness.  Of all the stupid, impetuous things he'd ever done, this had to rank up there with the best of them.   What the hell was he thinking?  Had his dick somehow taken total control of his brain?  He'd never even had sex before, much less with a guy, and now he was suddenly deciding to proposition a gay hooker?

But the desire was still there, bright and hot and growing as he stood transfixed by the guy's dark, astute gaze.  Ed wanted him, wanted to feel the warmth of his mouth and solidness of his body against Ed's own.  So why the hell shouldn't he hire a hooker, if he wanted?  It wasn't a crime.  It wouldn't hurt anybody.  It's what the guy did for a living - there shouldn't be any shame in it, for either of them.  Ed had to lose his virginity some time, so he might as well do it in a way that let him call the shots.

And he had the money, sitting in the bank account he and Al jointly shared.  The legacy of their absent father, he and Al had sworn never to resort to it out of need - and they'd fucking stuck to it, supported themselves without any help from the asshole's pity cash.  But that meant the money was still just sitting there, and Ed felt a satisfying sense of pleasure at the thought of how displeased the bastard would be to know his son was contemplating using it to hire a gay hooker.

Meanwhile, said hooker was giving him the once over - and calling him a goddamn fucking kid.  Well, if Ed hadn't been resolved to go through with this before, he certainly was now.  If there was one thing he was good at, it was pushing back against assholes who thought he was too young to do something.  He was old enough to drink, drive, and hire a goddamn hooker if he wanted, and he'd damn well prove it if he had to, despite the indignity of being carded by a sex worker.

Once they'd sorted the details, Ed had a moment of sobering realisation - having sex with this guy was going to mean getting naked.  Which - yes, ok - should have been obvious from the outset, but forward thinking had never been Ed's strong suit.  He had no idea how the guy was going to react to his prostheses.  It wasn't like he was ashamed of his artificial limbs; they were hella useful, and he'd have a much fucking harder time managing without them.  But the looks and comments and questions got damn tiresome after a while, so he typically went gloved simply to avoid the hassle.  It wasn't something he'd could avoid if he was going to fuck this guy, though, and he had no idea how the guy was going to react to a double amputee.  

But Ed wasn't a coward, and he wasn't going to let fear get in the way of something he wanted.  He took a deep breath, lifted his head, and pulled off the glove - putting it all out there for the guy to see, even as he braced for the reaction.  

But none of the expressions he expected - distaste, awkwardness, or worst of all, pity - materialised.  The guy looked thoughtful for a moment, and then met his gaze evenly and said it wasn't a problem.  Ed wasn't always the best at reading people, but he knew a genuine reaction when he saw one.  The guy had seen his disability, acknowledged it, and accepted it - without any kind of judgement.

That's when Ed realised that he was kinda gone on the guy.  It was entirely ridiculous - it wasn't as if he really knew anything about him: they'd spent five minutes together and barely exchanged a handful of words.  But even the little he'd seen made Ed think that Roy was someone worth getting to know, and he'd found himself wanting to, just as much as he wanted to fuck the guy.

It wasn't a smart thing to want, not from a hooker he was paying to spend the night with and then would probably never see again. He tried to resign himself to the fact that Roy would be gone come morning - all they'd ever have, most likely, would be this one too-short night.

But then again, he thought, his irrepressible optimism twisting it back around - they had this night.  Even if they never had anything beyond tonight, he was still going to be able to talk to Roy, touch him, connect their bodies in the closest way possible and get to know him as well as anyone could in a span of only hours.  This night was his and he wasn't going to squander it, or waste time wishing it was something more than what it was.  

He was going to spend the night with Roy, and that was pretty fucking awesome, no matter what happened afterwards.  

"Shall we?"  Roy asks, breaking him from his reverie, and they set off down the street together.

So that's how Ed finds himself escorting a hooker back to his apartment one freezing Monday evening.  It might not be the most well-thought-out plan he's embarked on, but he doesn't think he's going to regret it. He darts a glance at Roy, and finds Roy looking back at him - Ed flushes with nervous embarrassment and Roy gives him a knowing smirk that gets him flushing for an entirely different reason.  Ed's not sure how even just the curve of Roy's lips can be so damn sexy.

Even if Al does kill him, Ed thinks this might be worth it.

[autisticandroids]

DS9 for the fandom ask

The first character I first fell in love with:

okay so storytime: i actually watched ds9 out of order, because when i’m at home i mostly watch trek with my parents. we were running out of good tng, and mum and dad were like “hey, everyone likes ds9 even though we hated it back when it aired, let’s watch it” and i was like “nooooooo, dataaaaaa” and they were like “we’re watching it.”

so we watched emissary and they were like “this sucks” and i was like “but i heard worf is there in later seasons let’s jump” and so i picked a random middle season and that’s how i started ds9 with season five.

anyway, the first character i really fell in love with was odo, oddly enough. or rather, not oddly at all because he is superficially smack dab in the middle of my Ideal Character Type, but i later got quite disillusioned with him because of the show’s uncritical attitude towards his Police-ness, the way he is set up as a Protagonist of the show instead of the lovable quirky side-boy, and his conspicuous lack of gender complexity (he is the most comfortably masculine of the spocks, and it’s a symptom of ds9′s uncritical valorization of masculinity, degradation of femininity, and specifically villification of male femininity)

The character I never expected to love as much as I do now: 

okay so there are three answers to this that each deserve equal space.

first, ben. ben ben ben ben ben. my love, whom i adore, and care very much about. it took me so long to understand him.

i spent the first maybe..... two months? of watching ds9 ranting at my mother for three hours a day about how benjamin sisko had the possibility to be such a good character with so much potential if he wasn’t so INCONSISTENTLY WRITTEN. i really couldn’t understand him. i wanted to love him but i couldn’t get inside his head. i spent all of my time wishing that he’d been better written so i could have the character i wanted him to be

this has a lot to do with the fact that i need to understand a character’s ethical system, why they follow it, and what efects it has on them to really understand a character, especially in a series as driven by ethical dilemmas as star trek. most characters i get get a read on it fairly quickly. to use the other two characters i’m about to list here, julian bashir is an idealist, in a way that’s rooted in a combination of naivete and his raging god/hero complex. elim garak has no morality, just a system of loyalties that he will follow to the death, and a sense of propriety based on rather conservative cardassian ideals; this has a lot to do with his tendency to dehumanize other people, and to not see himself as a person with agency but rather as a tool, as well as his rather uncritical patriotism.

anyway, i just could not figure out captain sisko. i couldn’t do it. and then i read hollow men, and it all slid into place.

the funniest running gag/plot point in hollow men (which takes place directly after in the pale moonlight, an episode which i fumed about for WEEKS after watching it) is ben sisko going around to approximately every member of starfleet who outranks him and begging them to yell at and punish him. and none of them will do it, because he did, you know, actually do the right thing.

before this, i had assumed that his ethical beliefs had been carelessly and inconsistently written. after, i realized that he was actually a hypocrite, of a very particular type. specifically, three things are true about his worldview/psychology and they’re totally incompatible. first, he truly, genuinely believes that a Good Starfleet Officer is a Moral Paragon of Perfect Idealistic Purity. second, he is a pragmatist who will always, in the end, do what needs doing. but third, most importantly: he needs to believe that he is a Good Starfleet Officer. this is why he is always so surprised at himself when he must Do Something Bad, and yet always so willing to do it. why it always throws him into a crisis. he has to lie to himself about things in order to function. he’s also incapable of maintaining a healthy level of detachment from affairs at hand, even though in the end he will generally make the right decision. he gets very emotionally involved in things, in all sorts of way: he holds a personal grudge against eddington. he gets angry at garak at the end of in the pale moonlight. hell, he gets caught up by dukat’s friendly and charming demeanor and happily banters with him despite knowing he’s a monster. ben is very bad at taking a step back. and that was the piece i was missing.

next: julian. here’s the story on julian: whether i like a character depends very much on how they’re framed. and i fucking hated the framing he got from both the show and the fandom. i’m not interested in julian as the audience avatar the way he is framed in the show, nor am i interested in him as the naive baby/perfect caretaker/sidekick boyfriend/garak’s pet twink that he is in the fandom. i don’t care for it.

now, i thought i hated julian bashir in an uncomplicated way for a long time. but about four months into my watching of ds9, three things happened at once: first, i began bingeing season seven seven with my parents. you know, the season where julian goes off the rails to the point where the show can’t lie to itself anymore. second, i hit a string of julian/miles episodes on my own personal runthrough of the earlier seasons. and third, i realized that i talked more about julian bashir than almost any character except mr garak, and that....... normally doesn’t happen with characters i straight up hate.

julian is a perfect, beautiful nastyboy antihero who thinks he’s hot shit and the savior of the galaxy. and i love him for it. but i couldn’t love him for it when i thought that i was supposed to love him for being a different character. which he wasn’t. 

third, and this is the one that’s gonna shock EVERYBODY: i didn’t like garak at first. and the thing is, garak is like odo: he’s my type, to a t. mr queercoded (ex-)villain, wildly gnc, utterly fucked up, no healthy coping mechanisms we die like men and yet still dangerous through all of it.

but see, i started with season five. and his first episode of season five involves him 1) being a racist asshole and 2) not doing anything else of note. so i was like ???????????? why don’t i love this guy like everyone says i should. sooooooo i went back and watched past prologue. and i didn’t care for it. past prologue is a VERY badly written episode, on a number of levels. first of all, garak doesn’t make any attempts to not be obviously suspicious. second of all, he CREEPS ON JULIAN IN THAT FIRST SCENE IN A WAY THAT MAKES MY SKIN ABSOLUTELY CRAWL JESUS CHRIST. third, it just isn’t a very good episode. imo.

AAAAANYWAY so instead of giving up like a sensible person i kept skipping through garak episodes one after the other. i enjoyed cardassians (although the resolution was, imo, Bad), and i absolutely LOVED profit and loss, (although that was as much for the quodo as for garak), and then i got to the wire. here’s the thing about the wire: it is a LOT of emotional turmoil for a character who we’ve only seen in three episodes. it helped me reconcile my biggest issue with garak (that he seems like a spy when he should be able to seem innocuous since he has spy training; he acts suspicious bc he was high and also as a form of self-sabotage) and it also made me more attached to both him and julian, but also...... after watching it, i felt like i should have been more invested going in. i felt like i didn’t Feel enough, because i didn’t know him (or julian, really) well enough.

so i kept going on my garakbinge. the first time i felt maybe a touch of the emotions i feel for him now was in second skin. it was when he vaporized that obsidian order agent after bantering with him and quipped “a shame, i rather liked him”. and then the other charcters turned and looked at him in absolute horror. deep in my gut i felt a little bell go off. a bell that said damn that is a good piece of writing. because like, action hero style quips right? actually kind of a brutal and terrifying concept. no one ever points that out. and like..... god damn is he quick with the quips.

and then.... then........

civil defense. civil defense helped me to truly understand what kind of monster garak is. what makes him tick. and it’s all in the scene where he insults dukat for hitting on kira. what he focuses on in his insults? the fact that dukat is married, and calling dukat unattractive. he focuses on dukat’s failings according to Propriety (that he’s slipping around on his wife) and as a man (that he’s an incompetent seducer/unnatractive). he doesn’t comment on the fantastic rapey-ness of the situation, doesn’t comment on the fact that what dukat wants is one last validation that his role in colonialism was justified/is forgiven. it showed me that garak dehumanizes everyone, yes, and thinks of himself as above everyone (except, as i was to learn later, the Objects of his Loyalty), but that he had two categories. non-cardassians couldn’t know any better. they were sub-cardassian by nature. they could never be held to the same standard. whereas cardassian should know better. they should be better. the fact that they’re not is their own personal failing. this racist principle controls garak’s entire way of relating to other people, and i didn’t understand him until i understood it.

and then........

improbable cause/the die is cast. never has a piece of television quite so effectively Totally Destroyed My Ass.

improbable cause is a smart little piece of comedy that brilliantly develops a relationship that has a ton of potential: garak&odo. they’re both brilliant on their own, but together they reach new levels, and the writing is glorious.

the die is cast is a harrowing walk through elim garak’s daddy issue riddled psyche and i don’t know if i could not-love any character after watching them go through that shit. 

the mood whiplash between the two episodes is ingenious, the writing is tight, and the emotions? very real. i was so invested. i decided i was ready to die for elim garak at about exactly the moment odo punched him in the face.

The character everyone else loves that I don’t: 

jadzia dax. she’s the only in the credits-main character who i truly cannot muster up some love for, somewhere. the only time i ever enjoyed an episode focused on her was rejoined (yeah, shocking, i know). jadzia dax is a sex object who is defended from accusations of being a sex object by doing two things: 1) giving her a superficial list of traits (sass, scientific knowhow, some fighting skills) associated with Strong Female Characters, and 2) making her a Mighty Whitey with the klingons.

but she isn’t actually a complex person. she responds to workplace sexual harassment and even stalking (lookin at u juli) by laughing and flirting back, and her sexual libertinism mostly serves to make her supremely available to all nearby men. if you are a young straight man in the audience, she is your wise mentor (but without any kind of power over you), your fuckbuddy (with no strings attached), your best friend and drinking (but without any of those nasty feminine interests and habits girls tend to have) and your girlfriend (but with no difficult Womanfeelings). ds9 has some really terrible gender bullshit and essentialism that we can blame for this. miles o’brien’s line about wishing keiko was more like a man in that one episode is a good example. it sounds gay, and it is, but it’s also underpinned by this terrible gender essentialist, heteronormative assumption that women are inherently alien to men and inherently difficult, (and also that men don’t have feelings/shouldn’t have feminine traits/yadda yadda). jadzia dax is the perfect woman for a man who follows this philosophy. she is a sexy woman who has none of the traits that make women difficult, won’t ever so no, and will always make things more fun without being a person in her own right.

the only time she ever gets to be a person on screen is when her gender is overridden by her performing the role of white audience avatar among the scary, barbaric, non-white-coded klingons. she is a textbook mighty whitey, an audience avatar who is instantly loved and respected by all klingons she meets, and can out-klingon most klingons as a party trick. it’s really absolutely disgusting and plays into ds9′s really bad racial politics and especially bad racial politics regarding klingons. like, she just waltzes into their culture and they shower her with adoration, and also she’s used to highlight the barbarism ds9 likes to portray klingons as having.

i’m gonna work myself up into a snit about ds9, klingons, and worf so i’m just gonna stop here, but, god DAMMIT,.

The character I love that everyone else hates: 

there aren’t a ton of universally hated characters in the fandom? but ben sisko doesn’t get the three dimensional appreciation he deserves and i cringe every time i see him reduced to “baseball dad”

The character I used to love but don’t any longer:

odo and jadzia, but just so i can round this out with another character, i’ve gotta say quark sort of too. i still love him, and actually i still love odo too, but i no longer get excited when i see a quark episode because they’re so repetitive. as the series went on, quark got more and more shunted off into his own corner of the narrative and stopped being allowed to interact with others in meaningful ways, and that just made him less interesting to me? because without outside influence, quark is totally cyclical. he can’t develop. he’s trapped in his own trap and all his plots are the same. i love him but i need him to do something else for once. please.

The character I would totally smooch: 

kira :3c

The character I’d want to be like: 

i don’t normally take fictional characters as role models, because i tend to be more interested in them for their flaws than their virtues, but if i had to pick i would say ben.

The character I’d slap: 

julian. deserves slapping but doesn’t deserve anything worse.

A pairing that I love:

:3c y’all know

A pairing that I despise:

all the het especially the canon het, garashir

[deanisprobablyonfire]

Starry-Eyed Lover

This was written for @thesickficsideblog as a commission!  I had so much fun writing this and I’m so glad you enjoyed it! c:

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Pairing: Lotor/Matt

Rating: Teen

Summary: Matt gets a makeover from his boyfriend.

Matt looked to the sky as he strolled to his boyfriend’s dorm room.  The sky was filled with dark gray clouds, masking out the sun’s light and creating an almost haunting atmosphere on campus.  It brought a smile to Matt’s face, not because of how dark it was (though, he did appreciate his pale skin not getting burnt by the sun’s harsh rays), but because of how much he loved the world and the amazing things it could do.  If he were able, all of his time would be spent outside, watching the clouds float by, the sun sink over the horizon and be replaced by the moon, and taking all the notes in the world on everything.

Unfortunately, such things simply weren’t possible.  College took way too much out of the day.  Matt sighed as he reached Lotor’s door, knocking twice and standing back, wondering what exactly he had called him over for.  Lotor was known for being spontaneous, it was simply in his nature.  While, normally, Matt was cool with the norm, he couldn’t help but be captivated by doing things against the grain.  It gave him a thrill- everything did when Lotor was involved.

A twenty-something man answered the door.  He had long white hair, arched brows, multiple facial piercings, and a few tattoos.  He considered himself a punk, but Matt thought he was just weird (in an endearing way, of course).  He was the exact opposite of Matt in almost every way.  While Lotor was a punk, Matt was a complete nerd- majoring in Computer Science.  They were polar opposites but had been attracted to one another thanks to the school’s GSA club, which Matt’s younger sister had dragged him to.  He definitely didn’t regret it, though.

“Hey, Lotor, what did you need me for?  Finals are next week, and I need to cram, like I told you yesterday, and the day before,” Matt said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Lotor scoffed, placing a hand over his chest, his nails long, pointed, and black.  “Wow, and hello to you, asshole.  That shouldn’t be how you greet your boyfriend!  I’m absolutely offended and appalled by your behavior.  I should punish you, honestly,” he said, getting a mischievous glint in his eyes by the end.

“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Matt joked, rolling his eyes.  “I’m sorry that I’m not a complete slacker like you.  Just… please, tell me what you wanted.”

He sighed.  “Fine!  Come in first, though.”  Without giving Matt a chance to respond, Lotor pulled him inside his dorm, closing the door behind him with a flourish.  He then practically shoved Matt onto his bed.  “Now!  Basically, I was watching your nerdy ass shows last night and something just- struck me.  You know how I’m majoring in cosmetology, right?  Well, I want you to be my model for a new look!”

Matt’s mouth fell open.  “You can’t be serious?  I’m not going to be your model, Lotor.  Sorry, but no.  Makeup isn’t my thing, you know that,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Lotor stuck out his bottom lip in a pout, giving Matt the best puppy dog look he could muster (which really wasn’t difficult).  “C’mon, Matty!  I spent hours watching Star Trek just for you.  The least you could do is sit for an hour while I do this!”

Matt saw just how desperate and excited Lotor looked at the prospect of doing his makeup.  He just couldn’t say no to him.  “Okay!  Fine, you can do my makeup!”

“Perfect!  Now, sit still and shut up until I’m done.  I need absolute concentration for this!” Lotor exclaimed, grabbing his makeup tote and setting it on the bed.  He then got to work, barking instructions every once in awhile for Matt to tilt his head or close his eyes.

The hour passed quickly in near silence, Matt actually enjoying Lotor putting makeup on him.  He was gentle with his strokes and touches, like an artist painting a portrait.  However, he couldn’t deny the fact that it did feel strange at first with Lotor staring at him so intensely, his tongue poking out slightly and eyebrows furrowed as he focused.

“Okay!  I’m done!” Lotor exclaimed suddenly, shattering the silence and setting one of the makeup brushes he used to the side.  “God, you look absolutely amazing.  I think this is my best work!  Not to mention, you’re like, the textbook definition of a gay twink, so that’s a perk.”

Matt rolled his eyes.  “Just take a picture so I can wash this off, weirdo.”

Lotor shook his head with a sigh.  “Fine.  You’re no fun.”  He grabbed his Nikon and snapped a few pictures, having Matt turn his head a few different directions.  Once he was done, he sat on the bed next to him once more.  “Do you want to see?” he asked.

“Yeah, show me,” Matt responded, wanting to support Lotor in what he did, though he acted like he was completely against it.

Lotor grinned, turning the camera toward him and causing Matt to gasp.  He looked… completely different.  His eyebrows had been defined, skin looking clearer than he had ever seen it.  That was only the tip of the iceberg, though.  Black surrounded his eyes and coated his lips, though were made to look like galaxies due to purples, pinks, blues, and greens- topped off with tiny white dots.  It was a space theme, through and through.

“I think it suits you,” Lotor said quietly.  “What do you think, though?  If you hate it, you can be honest with me.  I won’t be mad.”

Matt stayed quiet for a few moments, studying the pictures closely.  He then decided to speak, “You got all the pictures you needed, right?”

“Uhm, yeah.  Wh-” Lotor began, though was cut off completely by Matt tackling him back on the bed, their lips connecting.  He smiled into the kiss, wrapping his arms around the shorter male and pulling him closer.

Matt pulled away soon after, makeup smeared slightly, but only making it look even more stunning.  “If that wasn’t clear enough, I love it.  If you don’t ace that class now, I want you to let me know.  I’ll ruin you professor’s life with my mad hacking skills.”

Lotor chuckled at that, running his fingers through Matt’s hair as he did so.  “Thank you, nerd.”

“You’re welcome, weirdo.”