#tourettes without regrets

[themeaningsofcolors]

Pls look up that ppl regret top surgery. Only remove them if they are making you ill. Sincerely, someone who regrets top surgery. /: gl

thank u, and i’m aware!! i would never do anything permanent to my body without thorough research, including piercings and tattoos etc which i have too.

i think the biggest fear i have is my scars looking “messed up” or my chest looking weird i guess. i wanna ask other transmascs who do have obscured results if they prefer that over having breasts, just to ease potential fear. cause while it’s not about looks, i still don’t want to look botched lol. but i’m okay with visible scars, i mean it is surgery after all u can’t rly get around that. the other thing is the healing process, i have tourette’s and worried that i’ll accidentally fuck it up or something but i’m good at adapting.

but yeah these things make me feel sick and bad unfortunately. they are functional and physically neutral but i can’t stand the feeling or look while wearing shirts, really never have even when i was a girl. i have good luck with doctors and medicine and all things medical wise, i have friends who have used the surgeon i’m gonna use and they look great!!

there’s sometimes a big jump in feelings because breasts produce a lot of hormones and losing them can cause a huge change in levels. do you regret top surgery because you miss having breasts? or is it about regretting the result? or both! how much research did u do/ what did the doctors tell u? i always like to know others experiences, i hope u can make peace with ur body again.

for me i can accept regret, i trust myself because i know i always do what i feel and know is best at the time. i have past regrets but don’t hold it against myself cause u can only live life with the information u have at the time. if i did my best and maybe it went wrong, i won’t dwell on it, i can accept and move on even tho it’s scary.

[tic-toc-clock77]

Took some liberties and made my own fic for Toby's backstory. I'm going to start doing oneshots for this AU, specifically (yes they will all bleed together eventually) these will all be tagged under " the creepypasta stuff "

May 15th, 2009

Tobias Erin Rogers woke groggily from his deep sleep; today was the day that his father was going to take him and his older sister, Lyra, out for the day. Toby knew it was an apology or at least, what their father, thought was appropriate for an apology for beating his kids and wife. Tobias, mostly known as Toby, regretted waking up that morning.

"Toby!" Lyra, 3 years Toby's senior, yelled out as she came racing up the stairs. She opened the door to his room, smiling ear to ear. Toby could always trust her to brighten his dreary mood the years of living in their house had given him.

Unfortunately, Lyra was not as lucky as Toby, he had been born late in his parents lives; he had Tourettes, he'd stutter over words, random parts of his body would jerk and tick uncontrollably which would often fuel his father's rage but the luckiest of these disorders, was CIPA (Congenital insensitivity to pain and anhydrosis), making it possible that his father's attacks never left him crying, not the way his mother, Connie, or Lyra would.

Lyra threw Toby's shoes in his direction from the door where she stood, her right leg wobbled just a little, a side effect from when their father had smashed a chair over her leg for doing homework, in place of the dishes he had sloppily left out, that was when she was 11.

"he's trying to apologize again, right?" Toby groaned, of course, he already knew. This had happened time and time again but nothing ever changed. Toby's father, for as long as he'd been alive, had been a drunk and never bothered to change.

Toby put his shoes on and tied the laces then stood from his bed, his light brown hair was messy, having that he hadn't brushed it yet, his skin was pale and nearly grey, he was skinny, perhaps too skinny, his ribs would show clearly, even at a large distance. Toby's stomach filled with dread at the thought of his father's reckless driving, his eye twitched slightly. Lyra sighed and sat next to her brother, "We can at least hope it won't be so bad this time." She sighed, looking out the window; it was about to rain, which would make his driving even worse. Lyra pulled him into a hug, sighing deeply. "Once I'm out of this place, you'll come with me. We'll be out of here soon, I promise." She squeezed his shoulder and then stood again, her curtain bangs of light blonde hair that she kept in a high ponytail reminded Toby of the sun.

"Lyra, Toby! Here up!" Their father yelled from outside, Toby stared at white blinds that seems to mix well with the unpainted drywall in his room. The siblings made their way down the creaky, in need of fixing, wood stairs and out to the driveway, Lyra got into the back with Toby.

"Come on, Lyra. He doesn't need your help, he's 15." Lyra rolled her eyes at her father's comment, "he's 17." She spit her words. The drive was uncomfortable to say the least. As they passed along the roads, Toby shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "What?" His father snapped, breaking the car, making Toby and Lyra jolt forward in their seats. "You're in the middle of the street." She said. Their father tossed his hand up, "Lighten up, kid, there's nobody on this road." He laughed, Toby shot him a look. His pleased, goofy expression dropped as he continued to drive.

This time, he drove without stopping until he pulled into the driveway of the local bar. Toby audibly groaned. Before getting out, his dad turned and scoffed, "I gotta do something to keep my cool around you little shits." Toby didn't laugh at the remark, he lifted a finger trying to make up a response but nothing came out. He left tne car, leaving his two kids alone.

Lyra looked around then she nudged Toby and pointed to the forest nearby. The two got out of the car and headed toward the forest, it was already raining, making the sneakers they wore get muddy as they entered the woods. These woods were not new to the Rogers siblings; the two frequented these woods growing up, whenever their father went drinking at the bar they would go and climb the same few trees and run around, playing with sticks and starting fires with rocks and sticks.

This time was no different, Lyra ran ahead but Toby was more glad than anything that she still could, with that leg. He ran after her, Lyra picked up a large stick and luckily enough, Toby had found one similar. "En garde!" Lyra laughed, they fought with the sticks, they hit against each other making loud smacks in the rain. The two fought until Toby accidentally slipped into the mud. Lyra ran to his side, "You okay?" She asked

Toby laughed, "Yeah, I'm good, it's a bit c-cold, t-though." He stuttered as his sister pulled him up. It was getting dark and the rain wasn't stopping. They had tried to hide under a tree but to no avail, so they ran back to their father's car and entered the bar. It was filled with gross old men, one or two were chatting about the heavy chested young waitress. The disgusting smell of alcohol made Toby's stomach turn as the siblings searched for their father.

They finally found him, drunk off his ass. "The fuck are you two doing here?" He slurred his words. Lyra raised an eyebrow. "Alright," their father slapped his hands down on the table, "let's get you home." He groaned. The three walked out to the car, neither Toby nor Lyra trusted this, not in the pelting rain and not in his condition to drive but, having that neither of them had a phone on them, they had to let it happen.

He began to drive sloppily down the wet roads. Lyra and Toby sat in the back seat, the darkness of the night was getting worse as time went on. Toby jolted when his father started to gag, he stopped paying attention to the road and just barely managed to pull over to puke off the side of the door. "Let..." His breath heaved, "let me in the back. Lyra, you're driving." He groaned. Lyra hesitantly got out and Toby did the same.

Their father snuck into the back seat and layed on his side, Lyra sat in the driver's seat, Toby was in the passenger side. Lyra turned the key to turn the car on, she had never driven a car before but it was safer than Toby doing it so she slowly pulled back onto the, thankfully, empty road.

The state of the road made the car zigzag around, Lyra's palms were sweaty and her legs were shaking from the coldness of the weather, she just barely managed to fiddle well enough with the peddles at her feet to drive. Toby looked out the window and the bright light of a transport truck filled his view, Lyra's messy driving drove the truck directly into the side of the transport, the left side of the car was smashed in, Toby's father rocked in the back. "Be careful!" He shouted, Toby looked back, not noticing his bleeding arm from the fender. Toby and his father shared a few choice words, eventually screaming at each other. Everything was making Lyra's stomach turn as she struggled to drive, she finally looked at Toby from her peripheral view. She screamed bloody murder at his arm, "Toby!" She screamed loudly, she went to grab his arm but the car started to spin out.

Lyra took hold of the wheel again but it slipped from her grasp, they spun as Lyra desperately tried taking control but it was too late. Lyra's screams were the last thing he'd heard before he felt the glass of the shattered windshield hit his cheek and he blacked out.

Toby awoke to the sound of ambulances and the bright flashes of red and blue of a cop car. Just as he barely came to, he screamed at the sight before him, his sister's jaw held on by a mere thread of tissue, her thighs were crushed under the force of the steering wheel, the airbag kept her body upright. He fought the urge to puke at the sight before falling unconscious again.

When he awoke a second time, he was in the hospital. He turned on his side. "Best not to do that, that arm is hurt pretty bad." A doctor said, Toby jolted. "Where's my sister? Where's Lyra?" He asked desperately, the doctor took a breath, "She's not well. She's alive but I doubt we'll be able to keep her alive for more than a day." The doctor said frankly.

Toby's stomach dropped. "W-Where is she...?" He asked, his eyes lost an light they had even a second ago. "Don't worry about that for now, you need to rest but when you get rested, she's in room 205." The doctor states then leaves the room. Toby sits in silence for a moment before standing and walking to her room.

He knocks, hoping he'll get to hear her voice but nothing but the beeps of the heart monitor return his greeting. Connie, his and Lyra's mother was sitting in the room, holding her daughter's hand. She looked up at her son and took a breath, "I don't think she's going to..." Connie couldn't finish the sentence.

"Where's dad?"

"He's not coming..."

"Not coming?!"

Toby yelled, "What the fuck do you mean n-not coming?" He continues, "Lyra is dying!" He shouts, pointing to his sister, a pit of rage in his stomach. His mother looked down and sighed, she understood his anger but there was nothing she could do.

Days passed as Toby remained in the hospital, he constantly sat with his sister and talked with his mother. It had been 3 days and his father hadn't shown his face. He didn't show his face, not a call, not a text, nothing. Not even on the fourth day, when Lyra's heart stopped, when the heart monitor flatlined, when she was truly dead for good...he hadn't done anything.

The following three weeks were madness for Toby, he had been seeing the same man outside his window since Lyra had died but that wasn't all, he'd seen sharks in the sink when doing the dishes, he'd had vivid nightmares of his sister night after night, not just her but everything came back to haunt him, the bullying from school boys before he was home schooled, the several beatings his father put his mother and sister through.

It was only a matter of time before Tobias Erin Rogers stood outside his home, watching it burn from the fire he'd set after violently attacking and murdering his father in a fit of shizophrenic rage. Toby stood in the fire that had come down the neighborhood, enveloping him in them...he expected to die but then, the man from the window he'd seen was behind him, reaching his pale white hand down to him.

Toby looked at the tall man with no face in the suit and tie wordlessly, the figure was wordless as well until he said his name "Toby." He said and introduced himself as the Slenderman. Toby followed as the Slenderman led him away from the flames....

To be continued...

[marshmallowloves]

DAY 4 (SELF LOVE) - FE!Cecil + Chrom

(future marshy here - holy heck I feel like I wrote more for this one than the others without meaning to. sorry dkfjgh)

I actually wrote two whole support conversations between Cecil and Chrom that center around her tics! (I might rewrite them at some point actually 👀) Of note is that Cecil and Chrom don’t necessarily follow the timeline in the game when it comes to their relationship, and they feel a mutual attraction pretty early on. I like to imagine the in-game C-A supports for F!Robin/Chrom aren’t what directly lead to the S support, but are just some random events that happen sometime between their first meeting and when they first confess their feelings to each other.

The supports I wrote happen after they establish wanting to be more than friends, but long before a marriage proposal. Somehow, during this timeframe, Chrom has not yet noticed the little peeps coming from his tactician (or maybe he has, but just hasn’t said anything? I…haven’t figured that out yet but honestly I think it still sounds right for Chrom kdjfg). But one day as he and Cecil discuss formations for an upcoming battle, it finally becomes apparent enough for him to point them out to her, asking with genuine concern if she’s alright. Unfortunately it only manages to embarrass Cecil, and she hesitates to elaborate. Chrom gently reminds her of their promise not to hold secrets between them, and assures her that however embarrassing this is, it can’t be much worse than those…other embarrassing mishaps between them. Cecil tentatively agrees but asks if she can explain later, after she’s calmed down from the feeling of being put on the spot.

True to her word, she meets back with Chrom the next day, who’s more than ready to lend an ear. She nervously begins to explain her condition - that it’s completely involuntary, it’s been with her for literally as long as she can remember, how she’s gotten a lot of stares for it before, the struggle of trying to hide it so that people don’t ask questions - it feels like there’s no respite from it. That’s when Chrom casually points out that she hasn’t made a single peep the whole time she’s been explaining this, and suggests that keeping herself occupied might be the key to mitigating it when it gets particularly bad - a solution that his dear tactician has somehow never considered.

She thanks him for the fresh perspective, and apologizes for making a fuss over something that was ultimately so trivial. He assures her that her struggles are far from trivial, and that it’s the duty of the Shepherds to lend support to others…but even beyond that, he just likes to see her happy.

I also imagine a similar struggle arises when they’re about to be married. Despite knowing Chrom adores her just the same with her condition, Cecil fears that the people of Ylisse might not be as understanding - or worse, that Chrom’s credibility as Exalt would be questioned because he chose such a strange and broken woman as his wife. But Chrom reassures her that he would never regret the choice to spend the rest of his life with his better half, and says that if anyone has a problem with the woman he loves, then they can answer to him.

Lastly! This is less of a “F/O supports my S/I” thing and more just something I think is interesting. Tourette’s Syndrome can be inherited from parent to child, and since it’s more common in men, I imagine Morgan develops it during his childhood. I haven’t thought much about how he’d deal with it, but I do like the image of Lucina - who did not inherit it - fiercely defending her little brother whenever someone tries to shame him for his tics. c:

[ruckusandrumpusrevival]

TOURETTES WITHOUT REGRETS | Devils Night! The notorious underground variety show returns for our favorite month of the year! Live and online for one night only! > > Mature Audiences Only < < PSYCHOTIC EROTIC VAUDEVILLE CIRCUS | COMEDY | CARNAGE Audience Interactive Mayhem starring YOU!Dirty Haiku Bout: Sarah Ranney (Champ) Vs. Jamey Williams Freestyle Rap Battle ($100 Prize) Invitational Stand Up/ Slam ($100 Prize) Featuring Satan’s Nuns Duet by Audrey Von Price and Cha Cha Burnadette Hotter than Hellfire Pole Performance by Leah Marie Bathtub Burlesque by Qu'in de la Noche Cock Painting Art Sexual Portraits by Brent Ray Fraser Stand Up Comedy by Tony Zavala Porn Horror Fan Fiction by Jordan Ranft Fire Inferno by Afina Flint Nightmares into Wet Dreams by Dizzyfrumearlier Hallows Eve Song by Pretty Frankenstein Burlesque Homage to Carrie by Sheba Queen of the Night Zombie Sing Alongs with Dan Abbott Sideshow by Pippsy Pinwheel Many More TBA! DJ Carnival of Carnality by Prince Xzist Beatboxing Human Ouija Board by Syzygy Hosted by Jamie DeWolf and Wonder Dave and Hunny Bunnah

[danceoftheday]

Performed by: Christine Lee and Nina Sawant

Number: “Shatter Me”

Style: Lyra

From: Tourettes Without Regrets’ 11th Annual Fuck Valentine’s Day Spectacular (2019)

[manarchymalerevue]

Seanmichael performing at @touretteswithoutregrets 

[damiano-mylove]

Members of Måneskin with a mentally ill/disordered S/O

Illnesses included: Depression, ADD, Tourette's and PTSD (so warnings for that and SH, drug usage, isolation, and heavy topics in general) *Masterlist*

This was a collaborative effort between Nik, Lina, Lute and two unnamed but very appreciated people - all of us afflicted with the varying illnesses above

Vic

Vic would take an empathetic approach to your illness/disorder (relating to you, researching, never pitying)

Depression

Vic would take a more of a nurturing role to your sadness

On the more sad days, Vic would nap with you for a little bit but she'd get to a point where enough would be enough

She would coax you out of bed in ways that appeal to you more than you'd ever care to admit, starting out with just getting you to eat somewhere else than in bed, then eventually moving up to showering, etcetera, etcetera

Vic would be very acutely tuned toward your needs, and she always fulfilled

It broke her heart that you were so sad, but she could relate and that made it a lighter burden on your back

When you first told her, Vic just went silent, then hugged you for a long time

ADD

Vic wouldn't be as supportive in this, but not in a neglectful way

She had a way of getting your attention back on the topic at hand, but sometimes she was just as bad as you for getting away from the main point

The impulsivity, she wasn't the biggest fan of, but you two worked through it like adults

When you'd forget things, Vic wouldn't get annoyed - but she would always remind you when you forgot what you needed to remember

Also, she was the best for finding misplaced things

PTSD

Vic would be very careful to avoid your triggers, however she never felt as if she was walking on eggshells

Before you were able to fully tell her what happened, Vic would never force you to tell her anything you weren't already ready to tell her of your own accord

There was no way she couldn't feel a bit sorry for you, but she never showed it, and she certainly didn't pity you - she just was sorry that something happened to you to give you PTSD

She would be mindful to never act as if she would be able to fix you

Tourette's

It didn't annoy her as much as you thought it surely would - especially since you had been trying to keep the tics at bay in the beginning of your relationship

Vic usually went on like nothing happened when you'd tic, but sometimes she'd laugh if your tics would hit her

Vic would proudly go out with you, even though you were scared about the looks you'd get on the street, but she never minded because she loved you and she wanted to show you that she loved you

Thomas

Thomas would take a supportive approach to your illness/disorder (reminding you to take your meds, making appointments for you if you'd ask, doing anything he could to make you feel better)

Depression

Thomas would always be the perfect person who would just shut the fuck up and cuddle you, but he would only do it if you'd ask because he knew sometimes you didn't feel like being around people

Wasn't really trained in any of this so he just cared for you like he'd like to be cared for

He was doing his best, and it was apparent, but sometimes you'd have to tell him what not to do and what to do

Of course, Thomas wouldn't bat an eye to stop or start doing anything at the raise of your finger - whether it be rub your back or let you be alone for a bit

He understood that he alone could not cure your depression, but he understood that he would be around for the ride, if you would have him

When you first told Thomas, he was silent, just nodding. He asked you a few very respectful questions but would never dream of pushing you. He would rub your knee and assure you of his love for you, no matter what

ADD

Honestly, Thomas didn't know what ADD was, at first

He googled it, then thought better to just ask you for a primary source

During nights where you couldn't sleep, Thomas would be right beside you, not sleeping either, which wasn't healthy for either of you, but it sure as Hell made you feel less lonely

Thomas lost shit and things all the time, so he never judged you for that, and his memory was potentially worse than yours so who was he to speak on that

But he was extremely good at getting you to finish tasks before moving on (sometimes just finishing them himself)

PTSD

Again, didn't exactly know what it entailed at first, but asked you a few questions to clear the air

Thomas would lead you through deep breathing exercises (unless you told him not to) when you were triggered and started losing control

Would always do anything and everything he could to avoid triggers with you

He would he more than patient with you

Tourette's

He would find some of your tics endearing (not harmful ones)

At one point, you'd even developed a verbal tic saying Thomas' name, which he always chuckled at and responded to you every single time as if you'd requested his presence, each time with a new pet name and a smile

If your tics would hit him by accident, you would apologize profusely, but Thomas would always laugh and brush it off

During tic attacks, he knew to just let you be, unless you would stop breathing, then he would certainly step in

He would ask his doctor a "hypothetical" about how to help someone through a tic attack, then used that advice forevermore, and it usually made a helpful difference

Ethan

Ethan would take a companion role (letting you take the lead, showing him what would happen and what to do to help, always listening to you before making his own move)

Depression

He'd dealt with depression before, but thoroughly understood that everyone is different in how they display mental illness

Ethan would recognize what to do, but would ask you for confirmation before acting upon anything that had potential to make a difference

On days where you couldn't leave your bed, he would bring you food (not a steak dinner, but he would definitely bring you soup or toast or a sandwich)

On days where you couldn't shower, he'd either be in the shower with you, or he'd draw you a bath instead, or he'd buy dry shampoo and sanitary wipes (those would be the last case, because he didn't want to throw off your pH)

He would assure you of his love and that you didn't burden him whatsoever

You were suffering, and you didn't make him suffer, but he did take some of that suffering from you

ADD

Certain times, I regret to say, he may get slightly annoyed, but not for long and not to the point of icing you out or anything

Ethan always found things to keep your mind occupied (watching Monty Python (actually a great programme for AD(H)D people), intricate games, new books, etc)

The best at finding lost things, and also has the best memory under the sun

Your symptoms wouldn't bother Ethan, save for constantly speaking (which can get a little annoying during a film or something)

PTSD

Would basically just go one with life - he would avoid all things relating to your triggers and PTSD - but otherwise, it would be business as per usual

If you got triggered, he would be by your side and on your side

He would do anything; deep breathing, distractions, grounding, getting your meds, anything

Ethan would always let you speak about it, when you'd want to, but otherwise treated you the exact same way as he had before you told him

Tourette's

He's always looking for something to joke about, and sometimes your tics provide just the material

He wouldn't dream of taking the piss out of the harmful or mean tics, but if you were laughing, then he was sure to be laughing as well

If your tics involved a bird whistle, he'd call you his 'little red bird' but wouldn't anymore if that upset you

Tourette's are a tough subject to joke about, but Ethan would always listen if you told him it was offensive, unfunny, or just a bad joke and Ethan would always take it in good humour and apologize

Most of the time though, he could make some funny fucking comments

Damiano

Damiano would take a nonchalant approach (not explicitly talking about it, never take the spotlight off you (if he could help it), try his best to help you through any challenges without making you feel like you were an inconvenience to him

Depression

He was your best friend before he was your lover

As such, you were always able to talk to Damiano about your depression anytime you felt it getting bad, as to warn him

Damiano would never leave your side, unless you told him to, but he'd always have a film on in the back, or he'd play with your hair, or distract you by brushing your hair or having you help him pick out an outfit

He enjoyed cleaning, so your bedroom would never become a depression room, and that helped get you out of your slumps most of the time

Dami was also swimmingly good at getting you up, even if it be just for a dance in the moonlight then back to bed, or a walk around the block then on the couch

He understood wanting to cope, but if you were prone to drug usage, Damiano would totally discourage it and stop you from using as best he could

ADD

Not everyday is a trip to Disney, but with Damiano, it is

Damiano always had new records to catch your fancy, he'd always have some home project lined up for the two of you, he'd always let you do extravagant things with makeup on his face

It seemed if you lost something, Dami would find it, but if Damiano lost something, you would find it (good system actually)

Would always have reminders in his phone so he would add reminders for you on his phone (appointments, birthdays, events)

Damiano seemed to always have just the trick to get you to sleep, even when you felt like you physically couldn't

PTSD

After you told him, Damiano would immediately avoid the topic in future conversations

He would support you fully during any trigger or episode, but he never treated you any differently at all just because you have PTSD

It hurt him that something hurt you so badly, but he took it all in a deep breath - after all, he signed up for you, all of you, so he certainly wouldn't give up on you just because of a disorder

Damiano would be in your corner 100%, and you knew it and you knew you could always go to him

Tourette's

Some tics would get that beautiful smile on his face, but otherwise he continued conversations like nothing ever happened

He didn't bat an eye at a physical tic, not a verbal tic

But he was the man to go to during a tic attack

He wouldn't treat you like a science experiment, or like an insane asylum patient - he treated you with love and support, like no one else ever had

Damiano had read about a dozen books on how to support people with Tourette's, and he'd also talked to other people he knew who had Tourette's - Damiano was thoroughly educated on how to help you, the love of his life

headass this was hard to fuckin write and i know its shitty and the cw’s are a bunch and i cut it but im sorry and hope its good enough

[smutty-ki113r]

i’d really like to talk about Toby. it’s 5:30 in the morning and i can’t get an ounce of sleep. thinking about him brings me comfort.

i find myself wondering if he would actually have feelings for me most of the time. i know i would definitely have feelings for him— even before he became a proxy. i’d share a few classes with him, and probably end up taking a seat next to him on the first day of school. i’d give him a small smile and think he was pretty cute. i’d help him with his work in class if he seemed he needed it. slowly, i think we would become friends. we’d spend lunch together away from other people, sharing a pair of earbuds as we listened to spotify. i wouldn’t find his tourette’s weird at all, and once i found out he has CIPA, i’d do research on it in order to be able to help him. we’d get close, and i’d learn about his struggles at home. without hesitance, i’d offer to help out in anyway i can. i’d tell him he could spend some days at my house if it ever becomes too much, and give him my phone number if he needed someone to talk to at any point. one day, while we were hanging in the forest behind his house, i’d gift him the kermit the frog plush that gave me comfort when i was going through a really rough time. i’d make him a spotify playlist of songs that i listen to whenever i needed to disappear into my own world for a while- probably sneaking in a few songs that have lyrics about my feelings for him. i’d give him my worry stone too. whenever he’d come to me covered with bruises, scrapes, and cuts, i’d take out the small first aid kit i always kept in my bag just for him and patch him up. i’d crack jokes to try and cheer him up of just keep quiet— whatever made him most comfortable. he’d be able to relax in my arms as i played with his hair once i was done, wishing there was more i could do for him. i would chase his worries away and reassure him about anything that was bothering him. my feelings for him would have fully developed, wanting to confess, but holding my tongue in worry that it might ruin our friendship.

then the fire would happen.

i’d be devastated, falling into a deep depression. i would feel numb, having cried multiple days until the tears no longer came and my throat was raw. there’d be no more long walks in the woods, there’d be no more laughing until our sides hurt, there’d be no more listening to hours worth of songs. no more texting each other memes, no more calls at night where we’d fall asleep on the phone together. no more of his fluffy brown hair and boyish grin. no more of his tics that i always found cute. no more Toby Rogers— my first love. i’d spend most of my time in the forest as i recalled all the times we had spent there. i’d make a small grave for him, leaving wild flowers therefor him everyday as i would tell him everything that happened that day. i’d play the playlist i made him through my phone, wanting to soothe him if he was really gone.

time would pass and i’d become an emt, working hard to be the best i could be. i’d would have finally become emotionally stable thanks to the years of therapy i did and discovering the best concoction of meds to take with my psychiatrist. one day, he would be on the forest floor, unconscious from falling off of a large tree. i’d walked deep into the woods while occupied with my thoughts and regrets when i’d spot him. rushing over, i’d check his pulse and see if he was alright. i’d find him covered in injuries and find myself patching him up with expertise. i’d sit next to him as i waited for him to wake up, most likely dozing off in the process. not long after, his eyes would snap open and look over to find me asleep, curled up peacefully, knees to my chest. maybe he’d recognize me, maybe he wouldn’t— but i think he’d be grateful. he’ll find that i disinfected any open wounds, cleaning them properly and dressing them, including the scar on his face. but he’d only find that out after he took of his mask, finding a bandage on his cheek. maybe he’d kill me. i’m truthfully not sure. all i’d know is that by the time i woke up, he was gone.

i don’t know what would happen after that. i don’t know what he would think of me. but, i would hope i brought some form of joy into his life. sorry for this being so long— i just kept writing until i felt my eyes closing.

This is possibly the most raw and vulnerable thing I’ve ever read about Toby. It’s beautiful.

[super-unpredictable98]

Exposure Therapy (The Road Within AU)

Chapter 1: Out of the Nest

Warning: Strong language, depiction of mental illness (including tics)

(Exposure Therapy Masterlist)

When I hopped off the bus, the smell of the sea immediately attacked me, but in a good way, this smell has always been comforting to me, ever since I was a little kid.

It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining, I felt great for once, that must've been the first time in months. Being near the beach always made me feel better.

After checking once more the address written by Dr. Rose on a napkin, I took a deep breath and prayed she didn't accidentally write down the wrong number. I could always ask for directions, but... I wouldn't have the guts to talk to a random person.

Luckily, the place I was looking for wasn't far from the station, a little over ten minutes walking. I just hoped with all my might that once I got there I didn't embarrass myself. If I knocked on that door and it was the wrong one, I would probably throw myself in the ocean, become a mermaid, and never come back.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Ramona. Nice to meet you, I'm Ramona," I mumbled to myself all the way there.

It took me about fifteen minutes to muster the courage to knock, once I did, I immediately regretted it, thinking I would just look stupid standing there. Maybe this whole thing was a terrible idea. Maybe I was supposed to be at the clinic and mom was right, I can't live on my own, I can't even cook my own food or talk on the phone without having an anxiety attack...

"Hi," A tall young man answered the door, forcing me to come back from my daymares.

He had this beautiful curly hair and eyes of the purest green, his eyebrows were the thing that caught my attention though, the eyebrows and the adam's apple, probably his most recognizable traits. He twitched slightly from time to time, something I would eventually get used to and not even notice anymore.

"Hello, are you Vincent Rhodes?" I had to close my eyes to talk, I was caught off guard by how beautiful he was.

"Yeah, that's me..."

"It's so nice to meet you!" I tried to say exactly what I had rehearsed. "I'm-I'm Ramona Wilson, Dr. Rose mentioned I would come? God, I'm so terrible at this... Why can't I talk like a normal fucking person?"

"Don't worry HA! Fucking weirdo whore," he spasmed. "Sorry, I don't mean that, I have-"

"Tourette's, I know."

"It's not exactly easy to hide, is it?"

"Not really, but I already knew."

"Please, come in."

"Thanks..."

As I walked in I noticed the house was awfully clean, which I was very grateful for, since I've always been a bit of a germophobe due to the generalized anxiety disorder that leads to hypochondria. I dropped my bag by the door and put some hand sanitizer on the floor to clean the bottom of my shoes, as I always do when I enter someone's house.

"So, Dr. Rose mentioned," he cut himself off with a loud whistle and smacked himself on the head a few times, something about that situation was triggering a string of tics. "This is like a... Exposure therapy thing?"

"Well, you and your friends are sort of a legend back in Desert Bridge, what you did was just amazing," I smiled. "So Dr. Rose thought it would be a good idea for me to spend some time with you and maybe learn how to take care of myself like a normal person. She said as long as I was in the clinic and not experiencing the real world, I wouldn't be truly independent."

"See, you say that a lot... Normal. No one's normal, especially not us," he laughed.

"Vince? Who was it at the door?"

"You must be Alex," I was able to forget about that sickly feeling in my stomach for a moment. "Ramona, Ramona Wilson."

"She's the girl Dr. Rose told us about."

"Oh! The autistic one!"

"Don't be... Fuck! Don't be rude," Vincent twitched more violently this time, but by now I was so used to it, I barely realized.

"It's fine," I shook my head. "I'm the autistic one, comes with a free side of anxiety disorder and irrational fear of diseases, which is the main reason why my mom sent me there, but that's about it."

"Well, nice to meet you..."

Before Alex could finish, Vincent's phone started ringing, he picked it up and blinked a couple times frantically.

"Hello?" he mumbled into the phone and turned to Alex with a smirk. "Oh, hi! Yeah, she's here, she's okay. Don't worry, tell her mom she's gonna... Fucking cunt she's gonna call. Alright, I'll let her know, bye."

"Shit, what does my mom want?" I grunted.

"She's just worried, she wants to know if you got here okay," Vincent grinned and I had to look away. His smile was too perfect, if I looked at him, I felt like I might break.

"You're not bringing those shoes inside, are you?" Alex asked staring at my sneakers.

"I never do," I assured. "I hate to walk with outside shoes in the house, sit with outside clothes in the bed... It's just too messy."

"Wow, someone who actually gives a shit about hygiene, how wonderful! Yeah, you can stay as long as you want," he gave me a nod.

"So, when do I get to meet Marie?" I looked around.

"Oh," Vincent waved his arms. "She left, a few months ago."

"I'm sorry, I really didn't know..." I wanted to die, how the fuck could I be so stupid?

"It's fine, really," he probably noticed how distressed that made me. "We're still friends, no hard feelings. Lying cunt!"

"Don't worry, Ramona, his tics are going a little crazy right now," Alex looked back at him, he was flipping us off. "I don't know why... I'll show you your room."

"Can I get you something to eat?" Vincent asked. "You must be hungry."

"Do you have any crackers?"

"Yeah, but I don't think that's a very filling meal..."

"I get very bothered with textures, I can't eat a lot of things, so I just have a few safe options. I usually go for crackers, Kraft mac and cheese, bananas, or frozen DiGiorno pizza, but only if it's plain or four cheese."

"I'll check if we have- you fucking freak, I'll check if we have any of that."

"Thanks," I sighed relieved.

"I didn't mean that, by the way, but I guess you know..." he muttered, blushing furiously, on the way to the kitchen.

Alex guided me to an empty room with a couch that doubled as a bed. It was quite nice, looked more like the combination of an office and a guest room.

"That's where our parents stay when they come to visit or something," he explained. "Make yourself at home, just... Keep everything tidy."

"Yeah, no worries," opened my bag to grab my inside flip-flops, the only thing I wear to walk around the house.

We could faintly hear Vincent ticking in the kitchen and I hid my mouth as I tried not to laugh. It was kind of endearing in a way.

"I don't know what is wrong with him today, his tics have been a lot more controlled this last year, but it seems like he's on a roll..."

"Maybe it's me," I panicked. "Do you think I did something wrong?"

"Nah, you didn't do anything wrong. He does get like that when he's nervous, but it's not your fault."

"Oh my... Maybe I should go back to the clinic, I don't wanna cause any disturbance, I would feel horrible."

"You're not, we are happy to help you. Really, do not worry, Ramona."

"Thank you, Alex."

As he left, I got my inside clothes to change for dinner. I should probably call my mom... Not that I wanted to talk to her, but the last thing I needed was for her to call one of them and make me look like a fucking child like she always does.

"Ramona? Hey, how are you?" she asked, her voice had a weird tone to it, I didn't know if she was nervous or excited.

"I'm great, so far no anxiety attacks, well... I did need some Klonopin on the bus, but nothing unmanageable."

"How are they?"

"They are nice, I feel like I'm a huge inconvenience, but they told me I'm not."

"Well, if you need to go back to the clinic or if you need me to pick you up just text me, you hear me? If you can't manage or..."

"Mom, I'm just mentally ill, not a 3-year-old."

"You're right..." I could feel she didn't actually believe I would be able to stay. "But if you need anything just let me know. You've never been on your own before."

"I'm not exactly on my own."

"Okay, okay," she sighed. "Don't forget your meds, Ramona, the antidepressant, and the OCD one after lunch, alright?"

"I have been taking them for months, I know when to take them. By the way, would you please call Dr. Rose to tell her I need a new OCD pill? This one makes me sick to my stomach and I lose all my appetite."

"That's good, you gained all that weight after your grandpa died, maybe this will help you lose it."

"Mom! You can't be serious! You think the best way for me to lose weight is to stop eating?"

"Well, if you really want me to call her..."

"I'll call her myself, don't worry."

"You never talk on the phone, Ramona."

"I know, but this is exposure therapy, maybe I should start now."

——————————————————

As I walked to the kitchen after changing into my inside clothes, a plain tank top and some shorts, Vincent was taking the pizza out of the oven. When he turned around and found me there he nearly jumped and dropped everything.

"Big fat milkers holy fuck!"

"Um... Thank you?" I chuckled.

"I'm sorry- no I'm not. I am."

"It's fine, really," I sat down by the table. "Nice of you to notice."

He laughed at my comment and I couldn't believe that happened, someone actually liked a joke that I made! I spent most of my life scared to joke around, because every time I tried to throw in a funny remark, everyone would just stare at me and make me feel like the dumbest person on Earth.

"I didn't have plain, so I picked the pepperoni off of this one, is that ok?"

"Yeah, that's what I usually do... Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," he sat down in front of me, grabbing a slice for himself.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?"

"What? No, why?"

"Alex told me your tics are way more manageable now, but when I arrived you had a fit."

"Oh, that? It happens sometimes, it's not your fault..."

"Okay," I tried to believe his words.

"Have you called your mom?"

"Yeah, she doesn't think I'm gonna make it."

"What do you mean by that?"

"She doesn't think I can live without her or outside of the clinic, that I'm some sort of incapable child."

"I know what you mean... Once my dad told me I couldn't even get to 7-Eleven by myself, but here I am."

"That's why I think Dr. Rose sent me here."

"Maybe she sent you here to- SUCK MY COCK," Vincent thumped his chest a couple times.

"I don't think she would send me here to do that..."

"You're really funny, you know that?" he smiled once again, and once again I had to look away to avoid feeling overwhelmed. "I was gonna say maybe she sent you here to have a taste of the real world."

"Wait, hold on," I stopped him, confused. "You really think I'm funny?"

"Yeah, why? I'm not supposed to?"

"Nobody thinks I'm funny. Actually, I spent most of my life hearing that I'm very unfunny."

"A lot of people get offended by my tics, even when they know I have Tourette's, but you take it so lightly. Then you say something funny, suddenly I'm not embarrassed anymore."

"You shouldn't be embarrassed for something you can't control."

"Well, it's kinda hard when you scream 'I have a bomb' in the middle of an airport..."

"How did you get out of this one?" I barely noticed that I was now eating with my hands, something I normally never would've done.

"I have this," he reached into his pocket and showed me a little card from the Tourette Association of America. "Thank God..."

"Oh, that's neat. When I was in elementary and middle school, my mom made me wear this stupid tag around my neck with her contact info and shit. Needless to say that only caused more bullying."

"Don't get me started on the bullying! I had to drop out of high school, it was impossible for me to be in class, and teenagers being the assholes they are didn't help. They were constantly trying to trigger me, repeating my tics, laughing..."

"Well, I'm glad you got better," I finally gathered the strength to look into his eyes. "Maybe you could finish high school."

"I do online school, but I still have a long way to go. You saw me earlier, it was madness."

"Have you noticed, Vincent?"

"Noticed what?" he looked at me puzzled.

"You haven't ticked at all ever since you told me to suck your cock."

"Oh my God... That's true!" he grinned. "I guess I didn't! And I thought I was the one supposed to help you here."

Tag List: @elliethesuperfruitlover @firstpersonnarrator @spanishmossmagnolia @a-ghoulish-tale @seanfalco @badsext

[mandiemon3]

Untitled Goblin Project

Chapter 4

Word Count- 1.6k

Content Warning- none

Andi knocked on the hardwood door of Doctor Osborn’s study. By now she was well aware of where it was located after spending so much effort trying to avoid it over the past two weeks. She and Harry were about halfway done with their project, using different samples of small animals to show how one could control different characteristics in offspring produced, including genotype and phenotype. The two weeks had been rough on the young woman. She had trouble sleeping, fumbled her words and hands more, and had to have friends remind her to eat and take her regular medication. It had gotten bad enough that Harry had pulled her aside one day after classes ended to ask if she was alright, if anything was going on that he should know about or could help with. It broke her heart to feign a smile and shake her head, lying to her friend and saying that she was fine. But what choice did she have? It wasn’t as if she could admit that she was pining after her friend’s father.

“Come in,” said the gravely voice of the doctor from inside.

Andi creaked the door open, and stepped inside, coming face to face with the man she had avoided for so long.

Osborn sat at a large solid wood desk, although he stood up quickly when he saw who it was, tightening his maroon robe around him.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded, his tone hushed. “Is Harry with you? I thought we had agreed to keep our distance.” Osborn’s eyes flickered back and forth between Andi and the door, fear written across his face.

“Don’t worry, Harry’s at school. He mentioned that you were working from home today and I figured it was time we talked.” Andi looked at the scared man, sure her own fear was just as visible. She took a deep breath and laced her hands to keep from shaking, whether from tics or terror, she didn’t know. “The truth is, I’m not happy with our deal. One of the best parts of my day over the last few months has been seeing you.” Her words came out quickly, knowing that if she stopped, even to take a breath, she might not be able to muster up the courage to continue. “You’re the only person that really understands how important my work is to me, you make me laugh, and you don’t seem to think that I’m an idiot just because I’m young or a woman. I’m sorry if me kissing you was out of line, or if it ruined things beyond repair, but I have to be honest with you. I don’t regret what I did, but I am sorry for the consequences of my actions if it means we can’t be the way we were before.”

Osborn slowly walked towards Andi, his expression unreadable but conflicted. Finally, he spoke. “I thought you considered it a silly mishap, something to laugh about. Are you saying that that’s not the case?” Andi clenched her fists and braced herself. “I am saying that if it were up to me, it would have been the first of many instances. I know you don’t feel the same way, but I owe you honesty as a man that I hold such deep respect for, and I am so unbelievably sorry if my emotions have gotten in the way of what could have been a great scientific partnership.”

Osborn stared once more, his eyes flickering back and forth between her facial features. She wondered if she was twitching without realizing it before he took a few quick steps and closed the distance between them.

“The first of many?” he asked, his voice low.

Andi swallowed and nodded, the icy hot feeling she had missed so much returning to course through her veins.

In one motion, Osborn leaned down to kiss her, wrapping his arms around her waist to lend support and hold her up as she worked one hand into his hair and the other around his neck. How she had missed the feel of him, the smell of him. The feeling of his lips on hers, his arms around her waist, and her hand in his thick hair was almost enough to make her dizzy with giddiness.

Naturally, it was at this moment that Andi’s Tourette’s decided to betray her, making her moan slightly into the kiss. The two broke apart, and Andi covered her red face with her hands, turning away from the man she admired so.

“Please pretend that didn’t happen,” she pleaded, her eyes covered. “I swear it was a tic.”

Osborn chuckled. “That’s too bad,” he quipped. “I liked it.” He wrapped his arms around her from behind, nuzzling the only exposed bit of flesh he could find, her neck.

“Doctor Osborn,” Andi giggled, “are you teasing me?” “Maybe,” he mumbled into her neck between kisses. He spun her around to face him. “And I think we are at a point when it is appropriate for you to call me Norman.”

If it was possible, Andi would have blushed even deeper. “Norman it is,” she said with as much dignity as she could muster. She pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “What are you working on today?”

Norman sighed. “Budgets, and figuring out how we’re supposed to get those ability and performance enhancers safe for human use before the government pulls the funding.”

Andi nodded. She had first-hand experience with how difficult it was to stabilize the serum, which was still being tweaked. One of her bosses had shown her how the lab rats that had been injected with it did show the desired qualities: increased strength, intellect, and durability; but had also had issues with hyperactivity and unprovoked aggression, often tearing each other to shreds. The serum was continuously being tweaked into slightly different formulas, but there was still a lot of work to be done.

Andi wrapped her arms around Norman’s neck. “Well, if there’s anyone in this company who can figure this out, it’s you,” she reassured.

Norman smiled, brushing aside a piece of hair that had fallen into Andi’s face. “You say you like me because I believe in you. I feel the same way about you. Everyone at work is doubting me, pressuring me to step down from the company. But you believe in me.” Andi lightly combed her fingers through the taller man’s thick hair. “I think you should believe in yourself, Norman. You underestimate yourself, and it breaks my heart.”

Norman looked at her tenderly, sending the young woman’s heart into a tizzy. This was the Norman Osborn that much of the world didn’t believe existed. Many saw only the cold, savvy businessman who whose world was in black and white, who would do anything to advance himself. Only in private could he let his walls down to reveal the soft, gentle Norman. Such vulnerability could never be shown in public, reserved only for those he trusted completely. A list which now included Andi Berch, who felt honored to be included.

Andi softly grazed Norman’s cheek with one thumb, a tender gesture that the assumedly cold-hearted scientist leaned into. “You know who you are,” she reminded him. “You know that you are strong, and brilliant, and cunning. And you know that no matter what, you have your number one fan right here to remind you how amazing you are, should you ever forget.”

Norman’s brow furrowed. “Does our age gap not bother you? You don’t have any fears that I am using you? You’re smart enough than to blindly trust someone just because they express interest in you.”

Andi sighed. “Believe me, the fears are there. Part of me does worry that you might be using me for my youth, or that your interest in me is purely sexual. A bigger part of me tells me that I can trust you though. I’m not typically a ‘listen to the heart, disregard the brain’ type of person. Something about you just won’t leave my mind, and I have to have faith in myself that I would be able to pick up on any red flags.” “You must know that your fears aren’t true,” Norman said. “I can understand you having concerns, but surely you know that you aren’t just some piece of meat to me. You’re a beautiful, intelligent, funny woman, and you are one of the most resilient people I have ever met. You make me feel things that I haven’t felt for a long time, and I just want to protect and help you.” He chuckled. “Now it’s time for me to remind yourself to trust your instincts.” “I appreciate that,” Andi continued. “Fear plays a part in any relationship dynamic. I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned it, but my mom is 15 years older than my dad. A lot of people were freaked out by their relationship when they got together, assuming that my mom was a cougar or my dad a gold-digger. They’ve been together for 17 years, married for 10, and have never given one singular fuck what other people have thought about them. I guess what I’m saying is, I do wish we were closer in age, but it’s not like that’s something we can change. All we can do is make the most of what we’ve been given.” She took a deep breath. “And for what it’s worth, this is what I want. All I need to know is if you want it too. The rest we can figure out as we go.” Norman nodded, smiling fondly. “I want this too.”

Andi smiled. “Alright. There we go.” The two kissed, both scared and hopeful for their future. It would be hard to hide their secret from Harry, those at work, and the rest of the world, but something precious was at stake, and the two determined scientists did not take kindly to failure.

[that-was-anticlimactic]

Pure / Happy Ninjago Headcanons

Zane:

If the movie is based off of a book, he automatically hates it

Aka he hates the How To Train Your Dragon movies because he likes the books better

will probably explode if he has to watch the Percy Jackson movies

Zane will occasionally roast someone and then giggle

Zane: *after roasting* did I do a funny?

He refuses to dab / whip / woah because they go against his principles as a being

If he mops and someone walks through with dirty shoes he will banish them for five minutes minimum

His favorite books are mystery novels like Agatha Christie

Really likes green grapes

Plays mahjong every day for it is relaxing and fun and he always wins

Has a grey soul

Jay:

Makes ginger jokes constantly

Kai: hey, Jay, can you pass the potatoes?

Jay: well, I’m ginger. so. can’t:/

Kai: ... h-how is that even relevant?

Jay: 🤷🏼‍♀️

Hates that they got rid of the ginger emoji by the way and will complain

Walks very fast always. Like, he can’t walk slow

He’ll be out with the team walking through town and suddenly he’s so much father ahead then everyone else

Always spells things wrong when texting because he has a rubbing Tourette’s tic that makes him rub the screen constantly and it makes him mistype

Known as “the bear” on the team. As in, do not poke the bear.

Can and will eat an entire bag of frozen blueberries in five minutes

Zane: you’re overthinking

Jay: yoU’RE UNDER THINKING

Writes notes for himself on his arms

Has an orange soul

Kai:

Tends to call people by their last names, only uses first names really if he’s mad at them or if they need comfort. It depends on tone.

When he was younger he wrote and illustrated his own children’s book for Nya because he was proud of his art and writing skills.

He’s actually working on a novel and illustrations for it

He draws the team a lot, for birthdays and holidays or for fun. Zane is his favorite to draw.

Always skips the theme song when watching shows

Cares about his hair to an extent. He’s very bipolar with his hair. One time he spent $200 on a hair cut and one time he went for a week and a half without washing his hair because he forgot is what I’m saying.

You’d think Cole would be the first person to grow facial hair because of his eyebrows and his amount of hair, but no no no, Kai was.

Has acne on his face, specifically around his nose and the edges of his face, but is unashamed of it! He knows he’s still beautiful with acne!

Has a magenta soul

Cole:

Likes painting rocks for fun. He writes things on them, paints flowers on them, paints swirls and such... he has a collection of them in his room

Definitely once drove his car into a lake because google maps or some other technology format told him to. This boy be bad at technology

Cole, unlike Kai, loves the theme songs and will fight for them

like Kai, Cole has acne on his forehead and is unashamed and doesn’t think it makes him any less beautiful!

Beanies! Beanies! Beanies! Beanies! Did I mention that Cole wears beanies?

Got his left ear pierced when he was at Marty Oppenheimer’s as a rebellious move but he is very happy he got the piercing, does not regret it. He goes back and forth between a stud and a hoop.

Baggy over-sized clothing

Pink and orange is his aesthetic

and are his favorite colors

His soul is a mix of pink and green

Lloyd:

Likes blankets- his favorite is a fluffy pale yellow one

He really likes the color yellow?? Like a lot??

His soul is yellow.

Makes ramen at two in the morning

Slides down stairs on the railing

Would probably wear AirPods legitimently because he hates the chord

Vests and joggers are his casual style if I’m being real

Doesn’t like change so always sits in the same spot on the couch

Collects coins

Has super thin and super blonde eyebrows

Keeps air fresheners in his room

Nya:

Her usual breakfast is a single slice of bread. Like just bread. Straight from the package.

Wants to travel the world

Listens to rap a lot. The quickness of the talking and the rhythm calms her down and is comforting.

Always has one earbud in and one out

Nya is the person who tells the brutal truth. If something is bad, she’ll say it. But she also gives the best compliments

She’s the best person to try stuff out on, because of the above. But, she also loves when people share their passions with her so so so so much!

Doesn’t believe in wasting cups so will turn the faucet on and then stick her face in the sink and drink like that

Grew into a gluten allergy and eats gluten free. It’s not really bad, but she strays from eating gluten. The team is super considerate of it

Terrible at all artsy stuff aside from photography, it’s not her forte, and she knows it. She is really good at coming up with ideas and such, though.

Cardigans and crop tops at the same time?? More likely than you think.

Wears circular sunglasses.

Has a red soul

Team:

The team has matching tattoos that say “Ninja never quit”. None of them are in the same place, but they all have it and it’s important to them.

The team paint their nails together all the time, tradition started by Cole and Zane.

They all love Disney so much

Favorite Disney character include:

Cole: Punzie

Nya: Mulan

Jay: Anna

Zane: Anastasia

Kai: Tiana / Moana

Lloyd: Cinderella (likes the classics- finds her story inspirational)

They are all talented in the arts in some way. Cole can sing and act (when he wants to) and play a million instruments, Kai can write and draw, Jay is the best at poetry / slam poetry / graphic design, Lloyd can knit and sew, Nya comes up with the BEST ideas ever / photography, Zane is the editor / can act / plays piano like a queen

They all try teaching each other how to excel in their specialized areas! Oh and they share their talents! Everyone’s gotten at least one blanket from Lloyd and one portrait from Kai!

MASSAGE TRAINS? MASSAGE TRAINS.

They have a white board on The Bounty that they leave notes for each other on

They’re all each other’s number one fan and love and support each other like crazy

They have sleepovers in the living room. They all include three a.m. McDonalds runs.

Fight over whether a hot dog is a sandwich and how to pronounce gif

Paper airplane contests to make decisions such as who gets to shower first.

One time they all made a commercial for the ninja team. They made Dareth film for them.

One time Nya wanted to practice her photography skills and told the boys to dress slightly nice for it (“don’t dress like garbage”) so they all wore suites and ties and dark sunglasses for it.

They have weekly meetings to discuss stuff. Each week is led by a different team member. They’re almost like leadership meetings and they always go over the week, training, and what each person’s goal for the week is.

They do highs and lows every dinner!

I hope you all enjoyed! I was in a pure headcanons mood!

[disabled-queen-hc-blog]

Poly!Queen in which they take Tourette's!John out on a date for his birthday but John's afraid to tic in public? -🤡

“Darling, you’ve been talking about this place all month. We thought you wanted to go for your birthday,” Freddie said, the sadness in his voice badly masked.

Brian, who held 4 tickets in his hand, each one bright orange with the words ‘Carnival’ printed in bold letters, frowned too.

Roger’s eyes simply went wide. Nothing else.

John suddenly regretted wrinkling his nose at his birthday present.

He coughed but he didn’t know if it was from the nerves or a tic. He didn’t mean to hurt their feelings. He was just scared. 

“I...” he began to explain himself, but when he was anxious, his ticking only got worse. So he barked instead of saying anything else.

Nobody blinked, the 3 of them immune to John’s tics. 

John barked again before starting all over. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m,uh, kinda nervous is all,” he said, fumbling with his hands, his cheeks blisteringly hot. 

“Nervous about what?” Brian said, his soft face filled with worry.

It seemed like a rather stupid question, especially when John started to stomp on the ground, obviously in the middle of a tick attack. 

“Is that really a question?” he asked, not wanting to say it directly, already very embarrassed about this all.

“Oh..oh! John. It’s your birthday. Fuck the people who stare. You want to go on the ferris wheel, don’t you?” Roger said, an arm snaking around John’s waist. John involuntarily jumped away from it, his shoulders rolling obnoxiously. Roger didn’t seem to mind.

“I do. But..it’s a carnival and all. There will be kids...they stare the worst,” John said, messing with the collar of his shirt. Adults at least tried to hide their staring. Kids would walk straight up to him and gawk openly or even ask, “What’s wrong with you?” And while he understood kids didn’t know any better, it didn’t make him feel any less of a freak. John scrunched his face up a few times.

It made John’s stomach sink seeing his 3 boyfriends go quiet as they processed what John said. He really hated that he was always the one to hesitate and pull back. He ruined plans left and right and now, he ruined his own birthday. He even ruined his birthday gift, which clearly Freddie, Brian and Roger felt proud over some minutes before. 

“I didn’t think about that, Deacy,” Freddie said, shivering when John growled. Why did tense conversations always make John start making animal noises? Was it some sort of cruel joke?

“He’s right though. I wouldn’t enjoy my birthday being spent being stared at by children. We should’ve thought about that,” Brian said as he shoved the tickets into his pocket, angry at himself for being so careless. 

John wasn’t sure why he felt a lump start to form at the back of his throat. He wanted to run and hide, but could only whine like a puppy. At least it fit the situation. Sort of.

It was quiet for a second longer before Roger put on a blinding smile.

“Well, no carnival then. It’s no big deal. They’re always in town during the summer. I think Brian went shopping yesterday, so we should have enough to make a nice dinner. Oh and I think there’s re-runs of the Twilight Zone on tonight! You love that show, right, Deacy?” Roger said, bouncing a bit as he spoke, hands touching and Freddie and Brian, hoping to infect them with his optimism.

John nodded eagerly. He did enjoy himself some Rod Serling. 

“That’s..that’s right! And I think we have some cake mix too! Vanilla!” Freddie said, already planning a design in his mind for the cake with the fruits they had in the pantry.

“Brilliant! I’ll wash all our fluffiest duvets to put in front of the telly. We’ll have ourselves a cuddle pile,” Brian said, stalking off to do just that.

With Freddie in the kitchen and Brian in the laundry room, John stood in the living room with Roger and nearly got on his knees to worship his feet. 

“Thank you,” he said, giving Roger a tight hug. He didn’t think he would’ve lasted an hour at the carnival.

Roger hugged him back, kissing his cheek. “Aw, ‘s nothing. Just some quick thinking is all,” he said, giving John’s bum a quick pat. “Now go help Fred in the kitchen before he burns it to the ground. And I’ll help Brian because he’s never done laundry before,” he finished, cheekily grinning. With a chirp and shudder, John was almost skipping to the kitchen to help one of his two clueless boyfriends out. 

Roger chuckled to himself, walking to the laundry room. What would you guys do without me.

[ruckusandrumpusrevival]

See you tonight as we celebrate May the 4th! At the Oakland Metro 522 2nd St. Doors at 8pm 

[lordsintacks]

Tantrum vs. Detective Blacksmith

[wonderdave]

It's about to get real sexy in here...

It’s about to get real sexy in here…

It is officially the sexiest time of the year! I’ve got a ton of shows coming your way in the coming weeks and I would love to see your face at any of them. Here’s the quick run down: 1/20 Spank Bank: a Queer Erotic Review 2 shows! 7:30 and 9:30pm at the Mitchell Brothers O’Farrell Theatre in San Francisco.  Get your tickets in advance at thecinestage.com 1/21 Cat People Comedy Show  @ The…

[queenofthefaces]

A long, rambling take on Kyle

Disclaimer: most people who “hate” Kyle don’t like,,,ACTUALLY hate Kyle. From the people I personally associate with, we’re not, like, anti-kyle in the way some people are anti-Cartman. Most of the time, our “hate” of Kyle comes from a place of love and appreciation. It’s also largely in part a reaction to fandom interpretations of Kyle and a rejection of an idealized version of the character in favor of a more nuanced and complex reading/analysis/interpretation.

I drag Kyle to hell and back for two major reasons: 1) I love him and I see a lot of myself in him and 2) fandom tends to misinterpret his character or ignore his flaws

Basically, my two cents: You can be an asshole without being a bad person.

Kyle isn’t INTENTIONALLY an asshole (unlike someone like Cartman or Nathan). Instead, Kyle just has blind spots in his personality.

He’s extremely proud, and his pride can drip into ego, because he’s a legitimately smart person (especially academics wise) but the world in which he lives always validates his intelligence. Therefore, Kyle can overestimate his own knowledge. In their little hick town, he’s probably one of the smartest people, but when faced with things outside of that, he can be ignorant. With Kyle, though, he doesn’t realize he’s ignorant, because he’s simply not used to not having all the information—when he usually does. I used to be the same way when I was his age lol. I was the kid who held traditional academia in high regard, going as far as to correct people’s grammar in conversation (now I realize that language is fake, dialects are valid, and conversational English is different from academic English).

In the show, Kyle is usually right, especially when faced with Cartman who is almost always wrong. Kyle just kind of....assumes he’s right or that he has the right way of thinking/doing things in any situation.

Kyle is a moral person, of course, but his morality can be pretty black and white, and he has a straightforward, logical way of thinking. Therefore, anything that doesn’t align with his logical thought process must be wrong. I’m the same way (though I’m working on it)—if I’m faced with something that doesn’t make sense to me, it is Wrong. (For example, once someone did laundry for me, but when they folded my clothes they put them on my laptop. My brain bypassed the ‘someone did laundry for you’ and just focused on the ‘why did they put the clothes on my laptop’ part.)

So I feel like Kyle, in his logical way of thinking, just won’t really understand other people’s reactions to things. He doesn’t get why stan is so heartbroken about Wendy and thinks he’s overreacting, he doesn’t get why heidi stays with Cartman when Cartman is obviously abusive. Instead of looking at either issue from a different angle, or trying to understand it from the other person’s point of view, kyle looks at it as how he sees it, which can lead him to blaming the victim. Stan was overreacting, and heidi turned into Cartman.

I feel like Kyle, with all his passion, though he genuinely wants to help others, could end up talking over them due to the points listed above. A trait he would’ve gotten from his mother.

Kyle can also get very caught up in his own head and his own wants, which can get in the way of his awareness of other people. Douche and turd for example, Kyle was so caught up in his competition with Cartman he completely ignored Stan’s feelings. In CBAA he knew something was wrong with Cartman’s plan, he knew it was exploitative, and yet he went along with it anyways for selfish purposes (that was the main point of conflict he had with himself in that ep). It was only when stan pointed out that Kyle was defending himself with cartman-esque methods that he realized how much he let himself fall into the delusion.

Kyle’s morality and belief that he is right can also segue into his martyr complex. Kyle thinks he’s the only one smart enough to fix any problem—and the world he lives in SUPPORTS this idea (like in margaritaville, where Kyle LITERALLY was a Christ allegory). This further inflated his ego and leads to his behavior in something like ginger cow, where he’s constantly going on about how great he is, which was the point of the episode—Kyle wasn’t a victim, he brought his suffering on himself when it wasn’t needed because he felt as though he had to be a martyr even when he didn’t have all the facts (the prophecy, which he could’ve just asked about) and then became a self-righteous douche about it. Stan called him out in that episode for it, how people who really do things for the good of others don’t brag about it. They just DO it.

Another example of Kyle doing something for the recognition is in le petit Tourette. When he goes to stop Cartman, he specifically tells Cartman he beat him. As if it were a game or a competition. He BEAT Cartman. He is BEWILDERED when Cartman is happy—why would he be happy? “No, I-I beat you!” If Kyle were really only concerned about Cartman hurting people, he would’ve been happy regardless about how he’d stopped cartman, instead, he repeats how he beat Cartman.

Again, this isn’t to say Kyle didn’t truly want to help or that he didn’t have good intentions—it’s just that Kyle’s competitiveness and desire to be proven right inflates his ego beyond a truly and entirely selfless goal.

Also in s21, it shows how heavily Kyle can let his emotions get in the way of his judgement. Kyle originally sees “wieners out” as a dumb, dangerous/annoying movement and wants to stop it and have the boys make up with the girls again. But once he’s rejected? All of that goes out the window and it’s wieners out. Cartman later calls him out on it, for abandoning his original goals/ideals.

And again, when heidi rejects him, Kyle misdirects his anger onto a different target—Canada and the MAC movement. He is angry and he wants to take it out on something, so he picks a target he can be allowed to be angry at, something “acceptable” to be angry at, that he can validate to himself why his anger is okay in that situation. So Canada gets nuked because Kyle was angry a girl he liked rejected him. When he’s yelling to stan about why his anger at Canada is justified, he specifically brings up heidi, aka, the real reason he started the whole thing, whether he knew it or not.

He could have genuinely believed MAC was the right way to go, but that was because his anger at heidi was clouding his logic, so instead of looking at the situation critically, he took what he believed was the most direct course of action. Which led to Canada getting nuked.

Kyle’s emotions cloud his judgement. And he doesn’t see the errors of his ways until it’s too late.

So with all this? Kyle isn’t a bad person, but that doesn’t mean his flaws won’t cause him to hurt people. After Canada is nuked, no matter how much Kyle regretted it, Ike tells him to stop playing the victim.

Even if you don’t MEAN to hurt someone, you still have to take responsibility for doing so.

Kyle is a good person, but he needs to take responsibility when he inadvertently hurts people.

And again, this is very much like me. I don’t consider myself a bad person, I can be very compassionate, but a blunt way of thinking/speaking, or a lack of understanding in a situation can cause me to hurt people. You can unintentionally be an asshole when you aren’t considerate to other people’s feelings, basically, but that doesn’t mean you’re a bad person or that you mean to act in a way that hurts people.