#white hair is a trans guy btw

[littlestpersimmon]

Sayang

[snowshinobi]

still not over the time i told a recent friend (now recent bf) i liked his shirt (pale blue-grey polo w narrow white horizontal stripes, compliments his fluffy light brown hair + hazel eyes) and several lunch walks later he said he can’t remember the last time someone complimented him on his outfit. i think my heart audibly cracked

[nebulousmedic]

I must admit, I really like the way you draw Sniper. The only thing I don't agree with is his hair at the back of his head being too long, but let's be honest, any damn hairstyle suits him. But if we talk about good things. I've seen your NSFW work and it's truly a banger. The way you show the characters, their figures, their body features, is incredibly cool, very appetizing. I like that Sniper has a little fat, but only on the sides, otherwise he is a pretty strong guy. Even though I’m not a fan of the transmask scout, you make him look very cute. You portray his body quite nicely. Especially those 3 canvases where he and the sniper “eat each other” It is a complete delight for the eyes. You somehow incredibly mix cartoonishness and realism in your style and it looks natural, beautiful and tasty. I hope you don't give up your ideas, Nebula, keep shining ✨✨

WAHHH Yeah I'm very aware of his hair being way too long especially for war (I'm making a comic about that btw. With Scout, unsurprisingly), but at the same time like…. He's always at the back so it's not such a big problem, I think. Plus I like how feral it makes him look.

Sniper is such a pleasure to draw, he's like…. Lean, for the most part, he has some very nice shapes to him, and I like making him look more angular than the other mercs.

I'm aware that trans Scout probably doesn't make a ton of sense lore wise for sure, but hey it's fun hitting him with the trans-inator 6000. Rejoice. Trans be upon ye, little white man.

AHH thankyou so much. It makes me happy to hear that you can enjoy my art from an aesthetic standpoint, even the horny art. Thankyou for the kind ask, genuinely.

have a Sniper for your troubles

[heleizition]

characters with white hair and characters fighting with needles are SUPERB DESIGNS much agree there. im holding it all so very gently in my hands while spitting on danzo fuck that guy. also??? eden just chefs kiss. traumatic kinda immortality is my VIBE. hows the ability work? can he ever die? hows he get along with belly??? good luck at whatever ya gotta GO to!! byyyee

THANK YOU needle fighting is jst so cool im not rly sure where i picked it up ? bunch of things ... katara in atla in that one episode where she seeks revenge... yeah it stuck to me ...

and this group of oc is a bit of like. "cringe renaissance" like im allowing myself to have fun without thinking abt waht others would say... yes this oc has heterochromia (vik) yes this oc has white hair and incredible powers (eden) (also cody) yes these ocs are twins that barely look anything alike but im doing MY THING im so happy. im free

SO GLAD U LIKE EDEN tw for drug use, overdose and suicide + rest of the answer

i care him sooo much. whats dramatic abt him is that in his past life (in the angel/demon au) he had. a very shitty life and ended up taking lots of drugs as a mean to get on with life until he finally just. decided to stop trying to get on with like. also hes trans :) . so um killed himself by overdosing on drugs. its always a similar past/history with him so i think it's a bit tragic that while he suffered so much he can't just. end it like he did before because his power wont let him. as a human he would die of old age, but his power , while letting him suffer through any injury or subtence, won't let him die. i mean in the end he does find that living is pretty nice when you're surrunded by people you love and who love you so !!!!

im not quite sure how the ability works yet... i think it's a molecular manipulation of the flesh and any thing that compose it, so it would heal injuries, help fight infections, but it wouldn't be able to revive someone if life has already left them/if it was too far along. eden's power being inside of him, it unconsciously protects him from everything and anything as it happens, fixing the damage almost instantly.

it takes a lot out of him to use it on other people (to fix or destroy) and after the beheading incident he fears it so much he's unable to use it until he's about to lose someone precious to him....

belly and him get along well !!! they're in the angel squad together in the angel/demon au and they're supposed to be the two "level headed" ones (they're not they're barely adults with age being between 20 to 25) and work nicely as a team. im not very good to talk abt relationship between characters im sorry !

for reference btw,

demon squad : abel, cain (no art of him yet im sowwyyyyyy), nell, titania, jasper

angel squad : cody, eden, lena, belly, vik, noah

i have pinterest boards of all of them also btw...

i have a lot of old ocs that are in this au as well as secondary characters im very <33 abt this au.

AND THANK U SO MUCH i was meeting up with friends i havent seen or talked to in FOUR YEARS life connected us together again accidentally and i had a lot of fun it was a sweet evening ! i am going to eep now zzzzzzzzzzzzzz snork mimimi

[doberbutts]

A week and a half on T:

Significantly reduced menses problems (which btw started over a week early less than a single week into T so there’s that to consider). Cramps significantly more controllable. Able to eat, digest, and poop which is more than I could ever say about anything. On the other hand cramps also lasted two days instead of one which I think is a ripoff, and the length of time I bled was also nearly doubled (always 3 days in the past, this time 5).

Voice doing a lot of weird shit- sometimes it’s normal and other times it’s deeper and other times it’s raspy. Harder to hit high notes but easier to maintain low notes when singing

HUNGRY. I wake up hungry and I am now hungry also for lunch and dinner. And sometimes snack after. It also means sometimes I eat and I’m hungry again like half an hour later. It’s not like a gnawing hunger but it is very present and kind of annoying. High protein snacks are the way to go.

Facial hair on cheeks still patchy and light. Facial hair on lip somewhat darker and longer??? I’ve always sort of wanted a soul patch with a little on the chin as well, which I knooooooooow is a Douchebag Style nowadays but also it makes me very grumpy that yet another Black Thing got co-opted by white people who now have decided it’s bad as that style started in the jazz community (which is why I like it, having grown up with my jazz-loving black dad and black friend of family) which was dominated by black people and now I’m off on a tangent

STINKY. Whewf my deodorant ain’t doing the 48 hour thing it claims to anymore. I’m applying twice a day and still catching a whiff every now and then. I don’t need to shower more because I’m using testosterone gel and am worried about gel transference, I need to shower more because I smell bad lmao

Speaking of smell, while it is... strong... there’s almost a pleasantness to it? My rural roots attribute part of that scent to men who work and labor all day, usually farming or hunting or woodworking or building etc. Smelly, but also kinda nice. I’ve always been of two minds about it when smelling it on partners after, ahem, vigorous activities, because on one hand. Stinky. But on the other hand. Good Scent. Is this what the musk fandom is always on about?

Muscles??? Noticeable muscles??? Not beefcake yet but my Arms Are Thicker. I was able to lift a 45lb bag of dog food for Sushi with little issue where I used to struggle before. I was able to lift Sushi off the ground, something I haven’t been able to do since she got over 85lbs (she’s 99.5 currently), without hurting or straining my back. She jumped into my arms like Creed used to and I caught her on reflex and held her midair and was like wait............. you don’t feel as heavy as you used to did you lose weight?????? And then I weighed her at work and nope she’s still hovering around 100lbs I can just carry that now apparently.

IDK if this is bottom growth necessarily but Stimulation Always is now somewhat of a problem. I’m thinking I will need to buy a new packer soon since my other one finally broke and the sensation of wearing my underwear has been, um, a lot. The prosthetic I buy sort of... cups everything, as it’s made specifically for trans guys with significant bottom growth or metoidioplasty, and that should help prevent unwanted Sensation when I’m trying to not be horny on main.

IDK also if I’m thinking horny thoughts more often but I’m definitely more affected by horny thoughts more often.

Speaking of Sushi she’s been all over me recently but I think she’s about to go into heat and she does turn absurdly affectionate when in heat so jury’s out on whether it’s my hormones or hers making her weird.

More stamina? My body still aches and is sore when I do too much but I worked in my backyard for like three hours yesterday immediately coming off of an 8 mile hike and then cooked and cleaned and was only slightly tired by the end of it. Sore, yes. But not tired.

Better poop??? Is this diet related since I’m eating more often or is this testosterone who knows but I’m appreciating not shitting my brains out all the time because my stomach decided to throw a temper tantrum about one of my meals.

[gnomeniche]

So I saw your post about the names and I was wondering, is red guys family transphobic? Not in like the big way but they drop hints like 'telling guys they can chop off their ding-dongs' and 'Nonbinary people don't exist' and stuff like that, and that's why they call him roderick? And when they see red they're like 'who are you.' And proceed to make fun of them for the rest of the night- Idk. (Btw I love your human au)

HM… hmmm… see i was thinking that red hasn’t actually cracked his egg at the point in the timeline Obligatory Family Reunion Episode happens. i think they’re probably fine with trans ppl as long as they Act Quote-Unquote Normal. like their problem with him is that he acts neurodivergent and Has Unconventional Desires And Interests compared to Societally Accepted Goals and what They want for him. you gotta be trans in a Conventional way. you can be nonbinary but you better abide by capitalist ideals and have 2.5 kids and a white picket fence. You Can Have Pronouns But Don’t You Dare Have Blue Hair. or i guess bright red hair in this case. or i guess blue hair as well they see dennis’s blue mullet mohawk thing and don’t say anything but dennis can feel the judgmental aura radiating from them and is like Hey Is This Really Gonna Be Okay Maybe Red Was Right And We Shouldn’t Have Come.

i kno it sounds contradictory but sometimes people have weird places where they draw the line wrt their standards and being trans is not where they draw the line. so tl;dr they call him his real name bc they’re negging him abt what he’s chosen for himself.

anyway that’s why he hasn’t talked to them since he got out of university. the other two rapidly realize that his entire family are painfully conventional judgmental assholes but not fast enough for red to not have gotten Extremely Drunk which is a problem bc he was their designated driver. the night ends with arson /j no it ends with drake and drunk red screaming at them and getting kicked out of the house and dennis driving them home bc he didn’t get drunk bc he was playing games with the younger relatives

[artical3237]

Ninja headcanons 'cause I cannot stop thinking about them

Nya- Definitely bisexual. She's 4'11 but she can and will rip you to shreds if you hurt any of the other ninja. I can't decide whether or not she's buff or a muscular-twink hybrid. I'm a REALLY big fan of the ponytail. I'm a ponytail lover alright?

Kai- Dude's 5'1 I love Jiang/Smith siblings being short. He's a trans straight boy and he bullies Nya for being shorter than him but that's only because Lloyd surpassed his height and he's insecure about being short n' old lmao. Muscular-twink hybrid for sure.

Jay- At a (normal???) 5'6. Excuse me, I'm Asian and everyone here is short so 'average height' in western countries is really tall for me. I can't choose between bi or straight ally for him. He's a white boy gamer nerd making him a twink. He's still pretty strong though don't get the wrong idea. Think of Luz from The Owl House where she's a twink but she's still plenty strong by season 2. Like Nya, I'm a really big fan of the hair 2017+. I like the ponytail more but the curly hair is so cute ngl.

Lloyd- Same height as Jay. Jay insists his curls count and says that he's taller but everyone knows they're the same height. I really like the green eyes but brown looks great too. I'm thinking of a compromise between the 2 eye colors. I think the Oni and Dragon features only come in like a hologram-thingy whenever Lloyd uses that side. So like, the Oni horns will only appear when Lloyd uses his Oni side and even then it's translucent. Uhhh about sexuality and gender, he doesn't know anything abt the aroace spectrum but he's either a pan-grayromantic or downright aroace. I really like both since I kinda ship him with Brad but like also I don't want him to fall in love lmao. So it switches very often depending on my mood. I also want him to be muscular-twink hybrid like Kai but it makes more sense for him to actually be pretty muscular.

Cole- Buff aroace. Mlm is pretty cool though, it's just not for me y'know? Him and Kai are the Ninjago equivalent of the Domino Twins from Star Wars Clone Wars and you can't change my mind. That means I don't ship them but feel free to ship any of the 4 og ninja with each other I don't mind. Just let Lloyd and Nya stay out of that. Cole & Jay and Cole & Vania are 2 of my favorite bestie duos they're amazing. Forgot about heigh for a moment uhhh 5'9.

Zane- I'm so sorry guys but I don't care for him as much as the others. He's amazing but after season 4, I don't see too much meaningful interaction between him and the other ninja... Love his sass in the later seasons though. 6'1 enby (possibly agender?) pan btw. He doesn't care about care about gender whatsoever whether it's his own or others. I'm mostly using he/him though because I'm just used to it more. Same goes for all of the ninja since Zane is a pretty male name so they just assumed.

Pixal- 6'2 enby queen. Leans a bit more to the feminine side. I get bi vibes from them so bi it is. I want more Pixal and Nya friendship as Samurai X buddies. She mostly just interacts with Zane, Wu, and just a lil' bit with Lloyd in season 8 which makes me sad. I want interactions between them and Lloyd.

And yeah, that's it. If you've made it to the end of this post, I wanna say thanks for dealing with my bs.

[lisxdumbr]

anyway. spider-verse thoughts

i love pavitr and i wish he got more screen time he was so silly. beloved character. dear to me. i love his entire rant abt chai. that was so good. and hobie!!!!!! silliest dude. love the anarchist brit. i love how he like kind of does fuck-all in almost every scene he is in yet simultaneously is the most chaotic dude in the room. respect. he is also very dear to me and i look forward to seeing more of his dimension in the next movie <3 gwen is so tgirl btw. like her entire dimension is mostly blue-pink-white and purples???? and in the entire conversation with her dad it's all blue-pink-white in the background??? and her entire "the people i love can only know half of me!" like ?!?!??! ? AND WHEN HE ACCEPTS HER THE ENTIRE SCENE TURNS ONLY WHITE AND PINK?????? i love her dearly. gwen deserves the world btw. miles was !!! ough i love seeing his growth. going from being all cocky and confident to terrified of what's going to happen like. he's still a child even if he has to act as a grown up !!!! ough. spot being the most cringefail wet pathetic villain and then going to actually being terrifying was one of the best villains yet btw like. he goes from the most wet and pathetic guy to actually downright terrifying and i love that for him. #growth.

ALSO MIGUEL. Miguel's motif reminds me a lot of Prowler's? like it lacks that sharp synth-y sound that Prowler has in his theme but the underlying sense of unease and danger is so similar. i think miguel is going to be a villain in the next movie tbh. he seems kind of... i dunno. like he's holding on too tightly and believes the only right way is his way?

anyway. loved seeing gwen assemble everyone in the end :) peter and mayday!!!! noir and peni !!!!!!! spiderham !!!!!! hobie and pavitr and spider-byte!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! it's going to be so fun in the next movie i think. and god i look forward to seeing noir and peni again i ADORE them

You're so real for everything here

I LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE HOBIE. I DON'T KNOW IF I SAID LOVE ENOUGH TIMES ACTUALLY BUT I LOVE HIM IN CASE IT WASN'T CLEAR.

The world. he's so. thehrjwhdhwgGACSVTSBRLORBRVGEAOFMFYNDIIHRVW vany you know I've been a goth punk for the longest time right. right. rightright you don't know how fucking extremely happy I was that there was ACTUAL good punk representation in my screen, since in the past few years it has been extremely hard for me to find a punk community in my city and I've been having to rely on my mother's friends from the alt street market,,, (though I've spotted some in art school ever since I started I think). Hobie makes me very happy, he's so fucking well constructed, he has references to the 70s movement and to the okupa movement (← that's how we call it in spanish srry if it's not the same in English) I love that he actually lives for the original concept y'know.

ALSO HAVE YOU SEEN HIS DESIGN. I AMJWBDJENSNQKNAKJEB I'm obsessed OBSESSED. he took out that mask and my heart dropped 50 floors and reached the underground. I love him and his style, perhaps I'm a bit too obsessed (I had a dream with him.. aheem) I need him and his pretty boots to kick me mmmhehhdjf sorryaboutthaticantevenactnormal

ANYWAY GWEN. I love her she's my most specialest girl ever. T Gwen is so real I can't believe there are people denying it???? The color palette and the way she talks about herself. There's a fucking TRANS FLAG IN HER ROOM and people are like "um she can have that flag because she's an ally not because she is trans" and I'm like. Amount of cis people I've met with trans flags in their room = 0. There are people saying that it's because Peter was the trans guy which I mean yeah, would make sense, but why not both. both is good.

Anyway Gwen's world is def my favorite, I love the aquarelle texture and how it's the world in which the color affects the environment the most. My favorite scene is the one where she confronts her dad, the way you can see her hair turning pink and blue and how at the end all the colors become warmer and GHHHFRFHR I love her so much.

Anyway I have a lot of thoughts I'm going to scream and cry. I kinda want a spiderverse theme but there are so many good images, I don't know what to use

[laplacesdevil]

Next of all, delivery boy, Darrell Nixon! Sopping wet thang trying to live vir bad boy life. Big fan of this guy: the barrel

MAIN REF:

Darrell is a Filipino-American, bi trans man who uses he/him and vi/vir pronouns. He was born on June 7, 1998, making him 26 years old. Vi's 5'5"/165 cm.

Sweetest guy ever, but acts cocky to make up for his insecurities. Ends up coming off like a dick

Redoing his boy band era AND bad boy era. No one wants this.

Actually really good at his job! He's usually very speedy and diligent, as well as an overachiever

Looks up highly to Chazz as a sibling figure and Percy as a dad figure. Accidentally called Percy "dad" a few times

Opportunist, especially when it comes with a few quick bucks or free stuff!

Sometimes substitutes for Chazz as night guard. Regrets it.

Vir comfort items are vir shades and watch. Vi's never seen without them

OUTFIT REF:

[Base]

Darrell looks to the side with a kind expression, with his left arm to his side and his right arm held up. Vir shades are off to the side, as well as an alternate head base with his head with the shades on. Vi has a cockier expression.

Darrell always wears his shades and watch, only taking his shades off when necessary.

... AKA, vi's not taking them off at night-time. god.

Ponytail ALWAYS goes on (our) right

Darrell only wears those stud earrings btw

ALWAYS tries to put on a cocky persona when out in public. sopping wet hamter

[Underwear]

Darrell wears a black, half-body binder and heart boxers.

Darrell's only on T, so vi still wears a binder.

Usually it's a plain one, but vi DOES have some special ones

...Chazz got him a Miku binder.

He's so silly sweets. Vir heart boxers, guys...

[Casual 1]

Darrell wears a black, leather jacket with a white shirt underneath. He also wears a black belt with a steel buckle, jeans, and black boots.

Usually wears bad boy fashion to give off his bad boy air.

It is FUCKING FLORIDA!!!! IT IS HOT AS HELL! NO MORE LEATHER JACKETS!!!!

Because of this, vi wears plain clothes like this. This includes belts.

Switches between boots and sneakers.

[Casual 2]

Darrell wears his shades on top of his head. He has a light blue, short-sleeved, collared shirt with flower patterns, as well as jeans and vir red sneakers.

Darrell has a few colorful button-ups in his closet... Hawaiian shirts. Really likes them! comfy

Vi also likes wearing jeans a lot

[Work]

Darrell drew Haylie on his nametag because she's his fave :3

Darrell sometimes wears [the hat] backwards, but only when delivering. Vi's kinda scared vir bosses will get on him about it (they will not)

Only tucks shirt in at work

[PJs]

Darrell has vir hair down. Vi wears a big, blue shirt with a dubious, light blue animal with blue hair and a cocky expression. The white text reads "Kazumaru" with sparkles around him. Vi is wearing vir heart boxers

Darrell long locks moment!!!

Usually wears big, baggy shirts. Usually nerdy stuffs.

Usually goes bare, but sometimes wears socks (that vi takes off later in bed)

[thebleedingeffect]

So did naruto jiu jitsu himself into trans girl for an old dude with long white hair (not etho skin) or is my partner lying to me

OKAY UM, technically *technically* your partner is not wrong it's just more on the weirder side considering the old white guy(his name is jiraiya btw) is established to be a pervert in the actual canon. So naruto has this jutsu called the sexy jutsu where he literally just transforms into a girl version of himself and it has HEAVY genderfluid or transfem vibes but like. He literally just uses to so jiraiya will actually pay attention to him(he's his godson btw, if it wasn't weird enough that he was 13) and actually train him instead of just stealing his money to spend on women and alcohol LOL

[genderqueerdykes]

Hey, I’m sort of just coming around to the idea that I’m actually a man, and it’s incredibly overwhelming. Mostly due to the fact that I am five feet tall, I’m usually mistaken for a young teenager, (I’m 25), and I sing opera for a living. (Soprano, the highest voice type, btw). I know that because of this, I will most likely never take testosterone unless I want to give up my career and start completely over. Considering how in debt I am from my music degrees, that’s not really an option. I’ve been trying to work out to gain muscle in the places that will make my body more masculine and lose weight in the places that make me feminine, but I’m feeling discouraged. Do you have any tips on how I can feel comfortable with myself as a man who in all likelihood will be mistaken for a woman for the rest of my life? Or how I can convince people that I am a man when I have hips and breasts (until I can afford top) and a baby face and no facial hair and a voice like Snow White and am five feet tall? I don’t even feel comfortable coming out yet because I’m afraid I will be seen as a joke. I already publicly use they/them pronouns, but it always feels like I’m still treated and regarded as a girl (not even a woman, I’m infantilized for my height, voice, and face even by those who regard me as female) I guess I still have internal transphobia because I feel like I can’t allow myself to be a “real man” unless I look and sound more like a cis man.

hey, i hear you brother- i'm a big fat motherfucker, i'm in the upper 200s - 300s naturally and i have a lot of muscle mass that makes me look really weird. my proportions are all over the place due to being intersex. my hips are wider than god and i was blessed with a big fat ass that makes people cat call etc. because i also have a lot of tone to my body like i said. i get mistaken as a cis or trans woman a lot, especially when i wear long hair.

my advice for you: you feel very overwhelmed, and i feel your pain. it's okay to not know where to start. one step at a time when transitioning. i know your brain is telling you you need to look like a cis man before you can accept yourself. but it will take some time to get there. pick one thing that gives you a lot of dysphoria and figure out how to solve that and turn that around for you to the best of your ability given what you can. let's say you're stressed about wide hips- me too brother, i can't fit into men's pants at all i have to get 48" waist pants- research compression shorts, or shapewear like Spanx that are designed for larger ppl who want to conceal rolls.

once you have your hips looking how you want, you can move on to finding pants, shorts, etc. that suit your body shape in a masc way. guys have suggested Target, i suggest going to a thrift store and looking at all the different styles of men's pants and see which ones you like. you can try different kinds for super cheap this way.

then you can keep going from there. i know it's hard, but one step at a time and celebrate when you achieve something. when you look in the mirror and see a flatter, broader chest because you found a good binder and a good cut of shirt and think you look awesome, and when you look in the mirror after you've been working out for a few weeks and think, damn, i'm looking a lot more buff, my jaw is starting to look squarer, etc. celebrate your heart out. send pics to all your friends that know you're trans. squeal and cry and be happy about your victories and milestones. they're all worth celebrating, even if it's as something as small as finding boxers that make you look more like a guy. celebrate your manhood.

it makes it an enjoyable experience until you can access things like medical transition if that's your end goal. take care king, you'll get there. one step at a time. you got this. =)

[maschotch]

same anon as the morgan ask lol - no you’re so right about the weird vibes of hc’ing reid as transmasc. like if it was just sometimes… but it’s all the time, it’s disproportionately him, much more rare for hotch or morgan or luke or anyone to be transmasc. and like… people are always calling reid their /babey boy/ and it’s kinda the same with a lot of popular transmasc hcs, it’s young, skinny, white, shy or "socially awkward", "feminine" in some way, characters. it rubs me the wrong way. depends on the reasoning. but for reid it’s always,, "oh cause he looks young for his age, he has long hair, he’s so /cute/, he’s my baby boy, he’s shy and girls are shy" etc. like. classic infantilising of trans guys, classic transphobia against transmascs. nothing against some reidgirls but can they stop being weird about it? can they explain why they’d not hc hotch or morgan as transmasc, unless they’re doing t4t reid and someone? why i’ve only ever seen one hc of any of the women as transfem? & don’t feel bad about preferring to talk about hotch - i’m a morgan fan but i’m a (low empathy) prentiss fan first, i don’t mean that everyone has to obsess over morgan, i just wish people would appreciate his strengths & flaws & experiences & overall character a bit more in general.

admittedly i’m also the person who sent that last low empathy prentiss ask btw, big agree with all you say. of course i don’t mind that people have different opinions on her to me but just…. sometimes i’m like, did we watch the same show? a lot of the things they consider "empathy" moments from her are just being somewhat kind, and like, yeah i don’t think she’s evil so of course she has the capacity to be kind and exhibit some compassion. but every time she gives a grunt of disgust at a crime scene or whatever, it’s just to show that she disapproves of what the unsub did, not that she’s devastated or shocked in the way that many of the others on the team seem to be. and probably somewhere between having a shit relationship with her mother, the way she canonically has said she would change everything about herself to get approval from other teens when she was moving schools all the time in high school, and her undercover missions at Interpol… somewhere in all that, she clearly developed some acting skills, the ability to manipulate people, mirror and read people but *manually* rather than by having empathy. for her job, that’s necessary, idk how to say "manipulate" in a way that doesn’t sound that bad but i don’t mean it as inherently bad lol. and having less empathy would help her stay calm, logically analyse problems, not be fooled by people pretending to be upset, not have too much guilt get in the way of manipulating suspects (necessary to her job obviously), etc. however, it can diminish her ability to comfort friends from an emotional POV, might make her more impulsive/reckless because she doesn’t consider the effects it might have on herself and others, and it probably would contribute to how in those Lauren eps she just assumes her team members would be mad at her because she doesn’t *know* how they would emotionally feel about that. and maybe she does worry that she’s a bad person bc of her low empathy! who knows! i haven’t actually thought *that* much about it, i’m just kinda rambling about a few patterns i see, but i do think she has low empathy. and that you’re very right about the writers just… being inconsistant and weird with her character a Lot. i’m glad someone else sees what i see with her.

signed, the only morgangirl 😔 lmao

yeah :// like it’s tricky to be overly critical of trans hcs without being disrespectful or belittling people’s experiences (bc there are some people who i know identify with reid’s gender ambiguity (???)) but idk… it’s hard to ignore the pattern of the internet favoring their submissive breedable skinny white little twink as the main char seen as trans. like. what are we saying here lol

and yeah same thing w characters… you cant really fault anyone for preferring certain characters but when they take character traits/experiences/plotlines from morgan and give them to reid?? it just feels?? distasteful? like if youre gonna change everything about reid to make him/his backstory more like morgan, just… write about morgan? idk how to describe it. it’s like… if there’s a set of angsty tropes that are pretty standard—used by both official network writers and fandoms—that the showrunners divvy up between characters, and the fandom enjoys certain tropes that apply to certain characters, and the fandom’s favorite character is different, then they’ll give those same tropes to their favorite character without acknowledging the other character at all. idk if that makes any sense, but it’s just glaringly obvious when it’s the exact same type of skinny white guy that becomes the fandom’s favorite every time

but yes i am a very big fan of low empathy emily <3 i think it’s one of those “repressed lesbian jj” concepts that explains away a lot of the shitty character inconsistencies?? emily’s inconsistent bc she’s acting, bc she’s playing a part, bc her mask is changing as she tailors it to the group dynamic and her place within it. which is just FASCINATING to me lmao i love it so much. it’s something i’ve spent a lot of time thinking about, but despite that i feeel like i dont have a lot to say on it? it’s less like a “here’s a list of headcanons for this character” and more of a “here’s a lens to watch the show through.” it doesnt necessarily addd anything, it’s just a different perspective that imo makes things make more sense lol. i think she’s made peace with who she is and doesn’t spend too much time fretting over whether she’s a bad person. like i don’t think she’s answered that question necessarily, i just think she knows it’s kinda pointless trying to figure it out. n e ways yes i like that you also see it :)))

[mirohtron]

note: yall remember this right. so @madness-maybe-managed and i were (playfully arguing) abt smth 2 do w the sequel bc they can read my drafts bc best friend perks and i told @cybelpunk that i'd write them smth w their characters if they agreed w me and not m bc m sucks m is a loser m stinks and this was supposed 2 b a joke but now it's nearly 7k words. happy pride noah is a trans man (he/they, the narration will switch between he and they when referring to him. mostly he) and mochizou is... some guy (he/him) i used to simp for anyway going to pretend this is an actual fic. bc it is. this is not canon

pairing: noah x mochizou | wc: 6.9k/7k | au: muse/ballet dancer!noah x artist(sculptor)/celebrity!mochizou | they're allosexual btw hear hear all my yearners who want to get blue balled

cw for: stress-induced crying which can be interpreted as a breakdown

sign language will be written in single quotes [' ']. lowercase is intended sorry people who have pet peeves about it it's my aesthetic. also i am not hard of hearing this is my first time writing a partially deaf character if you have constructive criticism or corrections pls do tell me!

—

“do you love me?” asks noah.

“i enjoy your company,” replies mochi.

“you like me?”

“i like you.”

he flicks his gaze up to the table noah sits on. today the sun shines on his skin that’s brown like old honey and casts a golden glow around the edges of his outline. it is gorgeous. it is his essence. he is aphrodite’s favourite child and dionysus’s favourite wine. he flicks his gaze back to the brown clay. it is his muse’s same exact skin tone, except it lacks the variation. the light freckles sprayed on his shoulders like the flick of white paint on the painting of a dark night. the deep pigment that his muse’s elbows and knees have, the result of being worn against hard surfaces. it lacks the sunny flecks in his eyes, the pink-tinted twin scars on his chest. 

it is still a perfect imitation of the folds of the silk that covers his body. the cloth does so timidly, falling in delicate curves and folds to the surface of what he is sat on, dripping from where noah’s hand is clutching it like it is a waterfall, afraid of covering up his beauty. it, much like his scars, is tinted a slight pink, only more of a rose-gold, glimmering in the lights.

mochizou glances up again, only because he feels the other man’s stare bore into him like two solar lasers. noah has his eyes slightly narrowed.

“relax your face,” mochizou says. “i’m not taking pictures.”

“did you only say that to flatter me?” noah moves their head as they speak, and the corner of mochizou’s mouth twitches as a perfect strand of hair is displaced. 

“that is not how i flatter.”

“how do you flatter?”

“not like this.”

it morphs into silence once again, only the scrape of mochi’s tools against the clay and the drip-drip-drip of water being scooped up to wet dry parts for fixing serving as white noise. 

this is how most of their sessions go. noah poses a pretty pose in the pretty sunlight that helios sends down from the heavens and mochi sculpts from clay as a warmup before he goes to marble and glass and granite and whatnot. occasionally, noah asks a question, and it breaks mochizou from his focus and ignites a frustration that is quickly smothered upon seeing the angel on the table in front of him. do not disturb me, he used to say the first few times noah had broken his focus.

noah would simply furrow their brows and not obliged.

this was months ago. now, it is second nature for mochizou to not think of his anger directly, more so smothering it by flicking his eyes up the slightest bit and mumbling out an answer to noah’s endless questions. perhaps, one day, he will find himself not angry, just merely looking up at the man because he looks stingy when he isn’t looked at after speaking.

“you frown easily,” mochi had said one time, pushing a bowl of warm soup towards his muse. noah furrowed their brows, merely proving his point. “sometimes i find myself sculpting out the lines of your frown.”

noah had rolled his eyes. dragged his bowl towards him with a roughness that was unnecessary. “how flattering.”

mochizou let the silence pass. until the noisy stirring of noah’s soup became more subdued as his muse realised they were not being talked to. 

“i do not flatter like this.”

noah ate in silence.

mochizou has learned, over the past couple of months and two weeks, that noah is naturally stingy. makes faces when he is told to do something. uses up part of their scheduled time getting changed, the other talking about the most useless things, the other being stubborn about what pose to take. a rather difficult muse. but the people had been talking, about the youthful rebelliousness his new sculptures were depicting. much like a thorny rose. pretty. but the beholder was too selfish to let other people indulge in it. noah would rather his face be passed through the filters of mochi’s fingers and be carved into something pleasant-looking and un-sneering.

the only time noah makes an effort to look pleasant to anyone but himself is when he is on stage.

“do you love me?” asks noah for the second time. it is after mochizou touches his jacket, the worn, purple thing he wears every single day. it has been resized enough times that the threads all come together in a messy sprout at some places. impossible to pull at and ruin, because it is so tangled.

still, mochizou pushes at a loop of white thread with the pad of his index. “i love you as much as an artist loves their muse.”

“how much is that?”

“as much as you want it to be.”

mochizou feels the frown without needing to turn his head. it is there in the silence. he does not quite understand it, but his muse is a complicated thing, and he will turn simple when he wants to.

they go out together, once, and a stranger stops them while noah is sipping on his coffee.

it is one of those rare days where both of them are free from their schedules. only, during those rare days noah is too exhausted to do anything but rest and mochizou is still busy cleaning up his workplace. they do not text unless it is to confirm their schedule. mochi texts first, for those.

noah texted first, this time.

his hearing aids are gone, the purple things tucked away into his pockets because he says crowds are too loud for him. the stranger raves about them, about mochizou, how happy they are seeing the artist and his muse for the first time.

noah is glaring, and before mochi can try and soothe him his coffee has been crushed in his hand and the stranger has shut up.

mochi gets him a new cup. he is staring at nothing, resting his chin on a table in the café while mochi is stood outside apologising to the stranger.

“i didn’t know i was interrupting,” they say, rushing through their syllables. the excitement is still there, just a tiny morsel of it. “they’re…unpredictable. much like your art.”

“they’re complicated. isn’t everyone?”

the stranger is sent off with a bow and a wave.

when they are walking back, noah is not apologetic.

“that’s what you deal with everyday?” his aids are back on. the grip on his cup is still tight, like another stranger will come and talk to them like the three of them are friends. “i’d rather go completely deaf.”

mochi notes how they lean closer to him when chattering strangers pass by. perhaps he has not adjusted to the noise just yet.

“i can hold your cup,” he offers. “you can sign. i understand.” and noah knows that. 

sometimes, noah does not immediately reply to him. he frowns and does not utter a word for several long moments, until mochizou starts thinking he’s said something wrong, and right as an apology is on his lips, noah speaks like nothing has happened.

the twitch in his hands do not go unnoticed. 

sometimes noah can be seen running a finger over the curve of their aids continously, like they’re trying to sooth sore skin. then he notices mochizou is looking at him and stops, and pretends nothing has happened.

noah leans in again, his worn purple jacket brushing against mochizou’s expensive one. the movement breaks mochizou out of his thoughts, and he takes in his hands the cup noah has been holding in his direction.

after that, noah starts leaving his hearing aids in his bag when he comes over. it sharpens mochi’s own rusty sign language and noah starts ignoring his schedule to spend more time in the studio. it does not usually affect mochi’s own schedule, as most of it takes place in his house, signing paperwork and responding to emails and cleaning up the one mug noah always asks for when he wants to sip on a beverage. sometimes, though, he has to push noah out with a quickly signed sorry, because he’s realised they’ve passed too much time together.

noah retaliates by ignoring his signs the next day, feigning confusion, and it only ends when mochizou brings out hot cocoa with marshmallows in that mug, and noah quietly says “thank you,” before he takes it into his own hands.

sometimes, mochi forgets to sign ‘hold on,’ and merely drops his things to walk over and position noah into his desired pose. because in the studio, what they are is an artist and his muse. and his muse can be as rebellious or rose-thorned or difficult as he likes, but before the clock chimes the sixth hour, noah is his, right?

the first time he does it, pressing noah’s back up with no warning, he feels as though noah’s a wild, startled fawn. looking over his shoulder with wide eyes, the skin blanching, before colour returns to his lips and his ears and his eyes, and his cheeks take on a new shade and mochi realises his mistake.

he also realises that his boring old clay can never match the wine-coloured hue of a blushing noah.

next time, he decides to walk up to the table more slowly, so noah can track him. his cheekbones still mildly take on the shade of wine, the red mixing with the melanin in his skin in a way that makes mochizou stare for a couple moments too long. when the sun is right, bathing him in a golden halo, those wine-stained cheeks still present, he looks like aphrodite’s most gorgeous creation. 

mochi has been thinking of committing the picture to memory: noah dressed in the finest silks, haloed by the rays of the sun, looking like the first angel to bless soil. maybe one day he’ll turn the picture into a marble sculpture, have it displayed in museums.

noah, of course, does not know anything of this.

one day, mochi realises this: he’s never seen noah perform a second time. he thinks it’s somewhat unfit — noah’s ballet performance was what had caught mochizou’s eye. the grace he had, the expressions more vibrant than even the most expensive paints mochizou could find, the years of practice put into each controlled step.

he asks noah about it, one time. noah predictably scrunches his face up, but tells him about his upcoming recital either way.

‘will you come?’ he asks. there’s a hesitancy in how his hands move through the air, the way noah’s brows become the slightest bit downturned.

mochizou gives them his softest smile. ‘of course.’

he does not ask if the recital’s rehearsals are what noah has been skipping out on to spend more time in mochi’s apartment.

mochizou gets the date marked on his calendar. he sees noah staring at it, looking at the bright red circle like it’s another sculpture of his and it’s his first day at mochi’s. mochizou taps his shoulder and noah whips around, giving him a fleeting, dismissive smile before he stomps toward the studio.

perhaps, it is nerves.

mochizou finds out the morning of the recital.

it is a repeated buzzing at his door. then knocking. and when mochizou opens the door it is noah, puffy-eyed with those wine-stained cheeks making his stomach drop rather than flutter. his ballet shoes are a mess, and one is nearly completely untied and the ribbons are trailing behind his foot, and the soles are brown with dirt. there are sores on his foot, red and blue and yellow, and his hair is more unkempt than it has ever been before, and he drops the bag he is carrying.

“sweetheart?” mochizou says before he can stop himself. noah doesn’t seem to take notice — he simply hugs him. buries his face entirely into mochi’s neck, and mochi doesn’t waste a second wrapping his arms around his muse. he soothes him, curling his fingers around his hair, realises his aids are gone. he pulls the bag in and pulls the two of them inside, too, placing noah on the couch, making a move to step back, but noah’s grip on his clothes are unyielding.

mochi tugs on his hair. the motion makes noah let go, his hands coming up to try and sign, but they are trembling and his fingers can't form the images correctly, so he takes his muse's cold hands into his own and strokes the knuckles and kisses his temple until the shaking's stopped. 

he still hiccups, but mochizou supposes this is the best he can do.

noah waits until mochizou signs.

‘your shoes are dirty.’

‘i have spares.’

'is something wrong?'

'stress.'

'do you have rehearsals?'

'yes.'

'is it a break?'

'no.'

mochizou pauses before he signs again. 'did you walk out?'

‘i wanted to be with you.’

oh.

noah takes black hearing aids from his bag and puts them over his ears. he does not speak, though, so mochizou supposes he just wants to hear things clearly. the wine-like hue has left his cheeks, replaced by honey-brown skin.

noah does not say anything when mochizou takes his untied shoe off, but he helps him undo the ribbons of the other one. then he withdraws, and mochizou realises he’d rather mochizou take his shoes off.

the skin is irritated, and the skin at the back of his ankles is dry and peeling off and red. mochizou gets two cushiony pads and presses them into noah’s hand.

“for your heels,” he says. noah simply nods.

he is silent, his hiccups gone as mochizou puts ointment on his feet next, his touch as light as a feather. a part of him is afraid, that maybe noah will crumble like sand if mochizou is too rough with him. he looks tired. worn. he always looks a little tired and worn. mochizou wonders if that is part of why he’s so irritable. noah flinches the slightest bit when medicine is applied to the red skin behind his ankles, his heel twitching in mochizou’s hands, but he says nothing.

the silence is rather comforting. it reminds mochizou of their time spent together. one time, noah had signed a joke.

“wanna know a pun?” he’d asked. mochizou had dropped his tools, just to watch the smug little smile on his face.

he’d nodded. noah had signed milk, bringing his hand past his eyes.

it took mochizou a delayed second, but when he got it, he laughed. it was one of the few silly things noah did while they were together. the corner of mochizou’s lip turns up at the memory.

an earlier memory of them joking together would be when they first met. after noah's recital, after mochizou had asked him, "would you like to be my muse?" and when noah had started negotiating their salary. he’d been wearing black aids too, then, because it blended in with his hair.

"one thousand," he'd said, like it was a big number for mochizou, "per week."

"five thousand," mochizou had replied. "biweekly."

noah had whipped his head to stare straight at mochizou, his brows furrowed incredulously.

"ten thousand per week."

mochizou shrugged. "twenty thousand per week."

"twenty-five thousand."

"thirty thousand."

"thirty-five thousand."

"forty thousand."

"...two hundred thousand?"

"two hundred million."

noah had scoffed, at that, crossing his arms and imitating mochizou's lean against the glass wall of the theatre. "five billion."

"ten billion."

"five trillion."

"how much money do you think i have?"

"five quadrillion."

mochizou had laughed and shook his head. thought, maybe now the pretty ballet dancer with dry humour would ease up to him.

"what's your name?"

"noah."

"does the prospect of being the muse to a multi-quadrillionaire seem welcoming to you now, noah?"

"maybe."

"is that a yes?"

noah wasn't smiling, but he did roll his eyes as he hummed, pretending to consider. "sure."

later, mochi had realised just how not warmed up noah was to him.

“how much do you love me?”

mochi’s hands flinch, at noah’s worn voice. it is raspy, and deeper than usual because of the crying, and it pulls mochizou into present time. he looks up.

“i love you enough to take care of your feet.”

“how much is that?”

“how much ever you’d like it to be.”

“how much is that?” noah repeats.

“i will love you how much ever you want me to love you.”

"will you kiss my feet if i ask you? will you kiss me if i ask you?"

mochizou straightens on his knees. he tilts his chin up, watching his muse's face. "i will."

noah’s fingers twitch around the pads. everyone has a protruding part of their throat, and some have it more prominently than others. noah’s is not as defined, but as he swallows, mochizou watches the soft bump in his throat bop up and down. “show me,” he says.

mochizou swallows, too. his hand is still cradling noah’s heel, his thumb gliding along the underside of the ball of his ankle. it slips on the skin easily from the oils. the sun is shining, the rays falling on the side of noah’s face, brightening the brown of his eyes, revealing how his pupils are slowly dilating.

noah tilts his head, like he’s impatient. his fingers clutch the pads in a death grip, so mochizou closes his eyes and takes a breath, and brings his lips to the inside of noah’s ankle.

this is their first kiss. noah makes a sound, a startled mix between a soft cry and a gasp. it is stuck in his throat and ends abruptly. it is far too virginal a sound for noah, for a simple kiss to the ankle.

mochizou feels his muse shake. his foot trembles in his palms before it settles, before noah’s breathing subdues. it feels unnatural. noah’s breath rose and turned loud from the kiss, he must have forced himself to calm down.

somehow it frustrates mochizou. but, he takes his lips off. the resulting sound makes noah’s voice catch audibly.

when mochizou looks up, noah is looking like a startled fawn again. his fingers are twitching now. his voice is delayed for a long beat. his pupils have swallowed his honey-brown irises. 

his leg moves, positioning the knee closer to mochizou’s lips.

mochizou stares at it for another long beat. he looks back at noah and noah tilts his head to the other side. 

so, mochizou kisses the side of noah’s knee, down his calf, up the beginning of his thigh. and the entire time noah is gasping softly, pushing himself against the couch’s pillows, tensing up his leg to stop himself from moving. mochizou feels his gaze burn into his skull, sees noah’s hands dig into the cushions. as his lips withdraw from noah’s skin, he thinks that perhaps his own gaze is burning as he stares at the intimate inside of his thigh. he feels noah shiver with each exhale he gives, the muscle in his calf twitching under his grip, he hears the tremble in his breath.

his muse. his muse. right?

mochizou leans in, slowly, to that spot. his vision tunnels, he feels the warmth in noah burn his lips.

noah pushes him away.

this has no warning; mochizou’s shoulders are simply caught in a death grip, pushed hard and fast. noah’s knee hits his nose, and for a second mochizou thinks it’s bleeding.

noah’s breathing hard again. it is in time with the second pulse thrumming in mochizou’s skull. mochizou sits there, kneeling, for several moments as he processes what he has just done.

“i’m so sorry,” he says.

“no,” says noah immediately. “no. i, i wa —” he cuts himself off. mochizou looks up at him again and he is blushing and pursing his lips, his legs closed. he relaxes, relieved that noah is not angry. “are you mad? i’m so sorry. i — i panicked.”

he is still bathed in the morning light, his dark hair coloured by the sun. there are lines of worry on his face, in the way his lip is curled. mochizou could never be mad at such beauty.

“i’m not mad.”

“angry?”

“no.”

“irritated?”

“no.”

“hurting?”

“no.”

noah waits, still, like he expects mochizou to be lying. he purses his lip once more, gnawing on the flesh. it comes back coloured the same red as his cheeks. “your nose is pink,” he says. it’s said quietly, like how he quietly says his thanks to mochizou when he’s given hot cocoa to break his endearing silence.

mochizou brings his hand up. it is true, and his nose was stinging, but it has died down. he looks up at noah through his bangs and gives him a small grin, and it is mostly because he cannot contain a grin inside right now.

he can’t explain how relieved he is that he hadn’t misread noah’s body language. 

noah gives mochizou a small smile back. he does not usually smile so genuinely. most of the time, his smiles are smug and haughty. his biggest, most genuine grin is on the stage, when he is in character.

mochizou wonders what it will take to make noah burst into a grin off the stage.

noah glances at the clock to the side, and the smile is wiped off. on the couch he scoots to the side, away from in front of mochizou, and gets up, grabbing his bag and his shoes. ‘i need to go,’ he signs.

of course. mochizou stands up from his kneel. noah steps toward the door, palm on the handle, and pauses. he drops his shoes and rummages through his bag, taking out a ticket, and turns around to press it into mochizou’s hand.

“vip,” he informs. his brows turn down the slightest bit once more. “come. eight o’ clock. you remember, right?” he steps close, and this is the closest mochi’s seen of noah’s puppy eyes.

mochizou runs his fingers through the side of noah’s scalp in a gentle motion, careful not to touch his aids. “of course,” he says.

“and.” noah gulps again, like he’s nervous. “will you wait afterwards? for me?”

“i will.”

“you’re free, right?”

“why wouldn’t i be? it’s you.”

noah blinks, at that. then he quietly laughs. breathily, looking down. mochizou can’t recall hearing him laugh like that. “okay. okay. i should go. final rehearsals.”

“you’ll do wonderfully.”

noah smiles one of his small smiles and goes to pick up his shoes, and leaves. the door shuts with a click.

mochizou stands there for a bit, running back the fresh memory of noah’s smile, the sound of his laugh, in his head. then he moves to the couch and lies down, thinking of the two of them.

when they’re in the theatre — mochizou and his friend — he feels as though he’s getting cold feet. it’s partly because he fears that noah is just as nervous about seeing each other again because of mochizou’s kiss, and if that is true, he’s afraid noah will stumble in his step if he sees mochizou in the crowd. it’s why he’s picked out darker colours to wear, even if his pink tuft of hair makes him stick out like a sore thumb. he’s hoping that maybe noah will not spot him, so that mochizou will not mess up his performance.

he bounces his foot impatiently when the play starts. noah doesn’t appear, not until the second act, when he descends from the ceiling in a flash of glitter, the brightest smile on his face. the ribbons around him are cut from the ceiling when he lands on his toes, hands high above his head. everyone on stage acts amazed, looks at him in awe, watches as he takes the lead and dances with her in a pas de deux. at least, that’s what mochi thinks it is. he really only knows the word because noah mentioned it once, while he was posed all pretty in his studio with a dried flower crown on his head, and then he’d briefly explained the translation of the word and what it referred to in ballet terminology.

once their dance finishes, noah goes on his toes again, one arm in an outward arch above his head. the lead mimics it with clumsiness. noah spins around in time with the innocent music playing, his eyes moving through the crowd. as part of the music, a twinkling sound plays as noah’s eyes land on mochizou’s hair, bright as a beacon. even though noah is glimmering in the lights, from the glitter that is sticking to his body, his eyes beam and his grin is brighter than the sun.

he does not falter, he does not miss a step. he dances with more joy and more confidence, like a bright flame, and mochizou relaxes in his seat and enjoys the rest of the ballet in peace.

when the performance ends, the cast gathers on stage, bowing in unison. for this, noah is out of character, but he gives his brightest grin to mochizou’s side of the audience, waving to him when the rest of his crew waves to the audience.

mochizou waits for noah, as promised, and he tells his friend that she can leave early if she wants to. yu kkot does so, because it has been a long day for her, and mochizou thinks she needs the rest. 

mochizou does not feel nervous anymore to face noah; his muse has expressed no kind of discomfort, and he’s done splendidly in the ballet. his heart is swollen with pride, and maybe all he wants to do is tangle his fingers into pretty, pretty noah’s hair and pull him in for a kiss.

the attendees gathered inside the theatre begin to clap, and mochizou turns away from the entrance to see the dancers have gathered in the halls with bright, crowd-friendly smiles.

except for one, who is dead-faced and moving his eyes across the hall in search.

it is only when noah’s eyes land on mochizou that his eyes light up again, and he sprints forward and practically leaps into his arms. mochizou feels as though he could’ve been thrown back with the force, but then he hears noah’s giggles right next to his ear and all he can feel is airy and light. he draws back and the golden lights halo him. this is his essence, this is why helios’s rays favour him. because he is a golden boy, untouched by midas and blessed by aphrodite.

“i need to take a picture with my crew,” he whispers, like nobody is staring at them. “will you wait?”

“of course,” mochizou replies. his words are too breathy and sound too disconnected, but noah doesn’t pay attention. he gives mochizou a grin, and it’s all too new and too much but mochizou swears to commit every line of his face to memory, and then noah draws back and joins his dancers.

someone recognises him, an attendee, so they engage in conversation with him. they are older, not young, the lines on their worn face and their callused hands that firmly shake mochizou’s own are indicators. they ask about his craft, mention how their daughter has taken up sculpting because of him. they ask about noah, the man that hugged him, if he’s mochizou’s muse. mochizou says yes. they ask him how he inspires mochizou, mochizou says it’s his dedication to his craft, his strong sense of self, his attitude that reflects in mochizou’s stone and jade.

it is also his beauty, his smile, how he is brighter than the sun when he is doing ballet. it is how he makes silence pleasant, how one glance up at him is enough to bring mochizou calm. 

noah returns after he's changed into his regular clothes, that purple jacket over his shoulders. mochizou asks him if he wants a ride home.

"can i come to your home?"

"for a session? this late?"

there is a beat of silence. noah purses his lips and watches mochizou's face, then nods. "sure. okay."

a strand of messy hair falls just past noah's cheekbone with the movement, and mochizou cannot help himself as he lifts his hand up to brush it back. it is a quick, fleeting gesture. what it should be is an unimportant memory, but it's as if time slows down just for the moment to last longer. mochizou watches noah's eyes track the movement of his hand, watches them nearly close as his thumb massages a circle on the curve of his temple.

distantly, he wonders how tired noah must be. 

during the car ride, mochizou finds himself glancing at noah. he’s not doing anything, just staring out the window serenely. the sleeves of his sweater have been pulled over his hands, over the tips of his fingers, and those fingers curl to press the worn fabric down between the pads of his fingers and his palm. it looks old. mochizou hasn’t touched it since the first time.

“are you cold?” he asks. noah hums no. “tell me if you are, all right?”

“will you heat up the world if i am?”

“without hesitation.”

“even though it’ll cause negative side effects to the ecosystem?”

“mh. just for you.”

“why?”

“because,” says mochi, “i love you.”

noah is silent after that. mochizou looks at him out of fear, that maybe noah didn’t like that he said that.

noah, pretty noah, just has wine on his cheeks as he stares at mochizou. 

noah wears dark, platformed shoes wherever he goes. they click-click-click on the concrete, echoing across the parking lot basement, bouncing off the walls. noah shivers, folding his arms.

“cold?” mochizou asks again. noah does not look at him, his eyes are on the other cars parked in the basement.

still, he nods after a moment. mochizou stops, taking noah’s hands in his own, covering the cold fingers with his palms. noah watches him kiss his knuckles, his nails, the pads of his fingers, and blushes.

“better now?”

noah purses his lips, holding back a smile. he nods.

usually, when noah is changing, he doesn’t wear the clothes right. every time he comes out of the unused guest bedroom, something is crooked, or a crease needs to be smoothed out, or something is tied wrong, and noah stands there with his arms crossed, frowning, as mochi corrects his clothing.

mochizou’s called into the room this time.

‘i don’t know if i’m wearing this right,’ noah signs. so, mochizou guides him to the mirror and stands behind him, looking noah’s reflection up and down.

‘do you feel uncomfortable?’

noah shakes his head no.

‘in your skin?’

noah shakes his head again. “not since treatment,” they say.

‘then?’

noah’s hands fidget with the clothing on him. they rub the fabric between their thumb and forefinger, before letting go.

‘do you think i look good?’

mochizou gives noah a smile. laughs, to himself, because part of him can’t understand why a beauty like noah would worry about how he looks. buries his nose into the crook of noah’s neck.

then, he catches himself and draws back, and he imagines his blush might be as noticeable as noah’s is.

‘you’re beautiful,’ he signs. there is wine on noah’s cheeks, again, and the corners of his lips twitch up into a brief smile.

when mochizou is helping noah sit on the table for posing, his thumbs are resting in the dips of his hipbone and his eyes are looking straight into noah’s, and the tips of noah’s fingers are buried into mochizou’s hair and the palms are resting, cradling his nape. mochizou doesn’t know how they got there. one second his muse was holding onto his shoulders for balance and support, and the next…well.

noah’s cheeks are taking on the colour of wine again. it spreads up the highs of his cheekbones, colours the tips of his ears. he looks sweet. like a maraschino cherry. like mochizou could kiss him hard, right now, fingers tangling up with his hair, and if he were to draw back, noah’s lips would be the colour of a red grape. from his lips, mochizou’s gaze travels downward, to the soft curve of his throat where the skin is paler and stretched tighter.

noah’s breath is hitching, and his fingers twitch in mochizou’s hair. a nail scrapes against mochizou’s scalp and he moves back. he hadn’t even realised he’d been leaning in.

mochizou’s muse makes a choked sort of noise, his fingers tensing up. they press up against mochizou’s scalp, pushing him forward. noah leans in, too, parting their lips. inhaling, exhaling. mochizou can’t stop looking. at the soft line of noah’s lips, the hint of teeth he can see.

involuntarily, he swipes the tip of his tongue across his bottom lip. he can’t stop thinking. does noah taste like wine? like purple grapes? will it burn at first touch and simmer down his throat and light his insides up, better than the finest aged wine?

the soft bump in noah’s throat bobs as they swallow. mochizou’s transfixed by the movement, by the pretty, pretty neck of pretty, pretty noah. he tilts his head, curves his palm around until he feels noah’s curls and tugs. he presses his lips searing hot against noah’s skin.

noah takes in the softest, prettiest gasp. his hands drop from mochizou’s hair and go down to clutch his shirt like two vices, and his breathing turns harsh and shallow and mochizou can feel it against his lips. mochizou’s other hand leaves noah’s hip, too, to gently hold the small of his back.

it’s a short kiss. it has to be a short kiss, and maybe time simply slowed down for mochizou. when he draws back, noah’s lips are flushed, like he’s been biting them. his cheeks are nothing but wine, wine, wine, and his fingers still clutch onto mochizou’s shirt with no sign of relent.

mochizou feels as though his voice is gone. his head is pounding, again, and it hasn’t even been a day since he’s kissed noah’s thigh. it’s like his vision has gone blurry, like his nerves are alternating between becoming hypersensitive and being dead and numb.

“mh,” noah says. it’s a frustrated hum, almost like a growl, and swings mochizou’s vision back into focus to realise the frustration in his muse’s eyes.

mochizou snatches his hands away immediately, coming up to sign a hundred apologies, and noah pushes his hands down in one rough motion.

‘you can’t do that.’ his hands are moving fast. they’re slightly trembling. mochizou feels dizzy. and cold. and pale. noah doesn’t look like he’s taking notice. ‘you can’t —’ his hands come down in clenched fists, his knuckles losing colour.

“you have to —” noah speaks in a stiff voice. flicks his gaze up to the ceiling. “why can’t you kiss me?”

mochizou’s heart stops. it stutters and spurts like an engine, beating a hundred miles an hour. his tongue is rubbery.

“what?”

noah is not completely deaf. he’s partially deaf. and mochizou’s muse is a smart, wonderful, unpredictable thing, and has probably read his lips. or realised what he’s asked through the sounds he can hear. “i…” they shut their eyes, shaking their head. their hands come up to sign. ‘why don’t you kiss me?’ is their question. they pull mochizou in close, wrapping their legs around his midriff, and they sign again. ‘i thought it would be in the morning. in the theatre. in the parking lot. in the changing room.’ their arms wrap around mochizou’s shoulders, and noah speaks each following word slowly, and with clarity, “you can’t just kiss my legs. and then my neck. twice. and not kiss my lips. it’s not fair!”

oh. oh. mochizou feels dizzy again with relief. he curls his fingers into noah’s hair. so, noah liked it. noah liked everything.

his muse nods like it’s consent to kiss them.

so, mochizou does. he kisses his muse eagerly, and his muse kisses back harder, and noah burns like wine on summer, or like summer itself. he burns like fire whiskey and embers and sets sparks off at mochizou’s nerve endings. and he’s turning dizzy again, breathless because noah’s tugging his hair back with one hand and making him cry into his muse’s mouth. and then, when neither of them can breathe, noah pulls back gasping.

mochizou’s chest is cleaving. his head reels, dizzy like he’s experiencing vertigo. it’s like his vision tunnels again, focusing on nothing that’s not noah.

mochizou had thought — he’d honestly thought noah would be shyer. and noah is shy; he’s blushing furiously, and his lips are the colour of red grapes, and mochi’s hand is seared when he brings it back to cup noah’s cheek. but he thought would noah kiss more…softly?

he feels like an idiot. noah’s legs drop from his midriff. he drops down to the floor and falters, mochizou’s arms coming up to steady him, and he knows that it’s probably because noah just had a ballet performance, and their legs must be exhausted, but a tiny little smitten voice in his head suggests that, maybe noah’s weak-legged because of their kiss.

noah buries his cold nose into mochizou’s neck, and kisses him.

it’s open-mouthed, and noah’s tongue burns mochizou’s skin, and it makes him jump. noah’s hands clutch his shirt again, unyielding, and mochizou can feel it when his muse scrunches their brows up in frustration. after a moment, noah withdraws, giving mochizou another frustrated look.

he’s still upset about how long it took for mochizou to kiss him. mochizou can’t say he blames him. he cups the side of his muse’s cheek again, rubbing circles around the curve of his temple, moving to his scalp, watching him shut his eyes briefly from the little massage. it’s almost perfect how easily noah’s cheek fits into his palm. like two halves of a whole.

they decide that noah will not pose for mochizou today. it’s mainly because when he’s sat on the table again, noah feels out of his element; he’s fidgety, and his body wants to fold in on itself.

‘what’s wrong?’ signs mochizou.

‘i can’t stop thinking about our kiss.’

there is also another reason why they decide not to have a session: it’s late, and there is a droop in noah’s eyes as it gets closer to midnight, and his head lulls forward like a sleepy angel every time mochizou soothingly tugs on his hair. 

when they’re kissing on the couch, noah is purring against mochizou’s mouth like a happy kitten, one hand intertwined with him. there is still wine on his cheeks when mochizou withdraws, and the lights are bathing noah in gold. he giggles along when mochizou does, music to his ears, prettier than an angel’s harp. apollo must be ashamed to lose such a muse, one who puts the rest of aphrodite’s children to shame, one who is favoured by helios’s rays. it is his essence. it is who he is: an unrivalled beauty.

“when did you start liking me?” asks mochizou.

“loving you,” corrects noah.

“loving me. noah,” says mochizou, and it sounds like a beautiful word on his tongue. he says it slowly, softly, moulding the two syllables with each other with care. no-ah. “when did you start loving me?”

noah purses those pretty lips of his. what a complicated, beautiful, wonderful thing he is. mochizou’s prettiest muse. he could sculpt that face and body every day of his life. “i realised it when you touched my back. you did it so gently, with so much care.”

mochizou…did not know that. he looks at how he’s holding pretty noah’s hand. gently. following noah’s grip.

“i…didn’t notice.”

noah giggles again. “it’s a small detail. when did you start liking me?”

“loving you.”

noah giggles again, at how mochizou copies him. maybe he’s also giggling because he’s happy that mochizou loves him back, not just like. “when did you start loving me, mochizou?” noah is as careful with his name as mochizou was with noah’s. he does not slur it, like how everyone else does. he does not rush through it. he says it clearly, softly, ringing out each syllable like his tongue is a cradle for it. mo-chi-zou.

slowly, mochizou bites his lip. he watches noah’s eyes track the movement. “when i realised how you calmed my anger,” he said. “i once looked at you frustrated, and all my anger just…disappeared. how could i be mad at such beauty? i knew i was in too deep when i thought that.”

“is that why you’re always so patient with me?” noah asks in a soft voice. his eyes are twinkling like a night sky under the living room lights. “why you can put up with my shit?”

“it’s not putting up, you’re not a chore. i enjoy spending time with you. i love talking to you. i want to paint you and i want to make a sculpture of you that will put angels to shame.”

noah makes a sound. it’s almost like a shriek because of how flustered he’s become all of a sudden. “you can’t just say that. i fell in love with you because you touched my back. i’ll have to marry you if you say things like that.”

mochizou raises his brows. “good,” he laughs, “i’ll keep saying it, then.”

they giggle, again. mochizou stares at his lips for a long, long moment, before his pretty muse has pulled him down for another kiss. there is wine in his mouth and grape on his lips, because he is dionysus’s favourite wine and aphrodite’s favourite child and helios’s favourite thing to shine on.

“do you love me?” asks noah.

“i love you as much as a boyfriend would his gorgeous lover,” replies mochizou.

“how much is that?”

“this much.”

his pretty muse is kissed until the sun seeks him out again.

[jiabeewrites]

Mira Grayson!

Name: Mira Jaelyn Grayson

Nicknames: M, Jaeli, Jae, MJ, mini grayson, baby bird

Pronouns: She/They

Gender: Agender, but since she's afab, uses she/her anyway bc shes used to that

Sexuality: pan ace

Ethnicity: idfk

Race: ??? white??? idk

Parents:

- Biological Father: Dick Grayson

- Biological Mother: Ji-Hye Kim (dead now)

Family + Age in relation to others:

- Alfred Pennyworth (great-grandfather, immortal)

- Bruce Wayne/Batman (grandfather, 47)

- Kate Kane/Batwoman (grand-Aunt???, 40)

- Barbara Gordon/Oracle (auntie, 27)

- Dick Grayson/Nightwing (father, 26)

- Cassandra Cain/Orphan (auntie, 24)

- Jason Todd/Red Hood (uncle, 24)

- Stephanie Brown/Spoiler (auntie, 22)

- Tim Drake/Red Robin (uncle, 21)

- Duke Thomas/Signal (uncle, 19)

- Damian Wayne/Robin (uncle???, 16)

MIRA (14)

Appearance: Tan skin, Chocolate brown eyes, natural black hair cut short

height is 5'0"

facts:

- so mira's mom is ded

- uses she/her/hers/herself AND they/them/theirs/themself

- gender is just... non-existent. but bc shes used to being called she/her, they'll just use that

- Dick did NOT know about her... bc she was an experiment

deal with it.

her mom was an obessive fangirl, OF TALIA BTW, and basically stole dick's dna and created a child like superboi (if u watched yj u know what i mean)

and then ofc batman detected illegal activities and then mira's mom was killed in explosion...

and then miras name was on the test tube and dick was freaked out okay bai

damian is bascially her best friend. he thinks its weird that she's 14 and hes like 16 but eh

- fam tries to spoil her, dick tries to stop it, obv he fails

- as an extension of the wayne family, she feels pressure to be great at school and pretty much everything she does bc HELLO GOTHAM IS TOXIC OKAY

but she's not very good at school... so she takes out her stress on art.

which she happens to be very good at

- she's not a vigilante. dick wont allow it. but she doesnt want to anyway bc HELLO dad u need to be sane

- ART ART dick dont really get it but cass does so BAM SORRY BABS SORRY STEPH "aunt cassie" is fav aunt

SO MARVEL EXISTS GUYS SORRY

AND TONY IS LIKE KATES AGE

SO LIKE one day spiderman crosses over into gotham by accident

and she's having her daily lunch with dick on the rooftop

- so she meets spiderman and HOLY FREAK HOW DOES THAT WORK oh btw ur suit is ugly lemme fix that

- is complete FREAKING NERD, so star wars + pjo 

- nerds out with peter sometimes.

TRANS PETER TRANS PETER

- she and peter basically forced bruce and tony to sponsor almost every single pride parade across america 

i'll post avengers gender/sexuality headcanons later

- so yea that's mira!!!

[psych---ologically-deranged]

2x09 bounty hunters!

SF, CH, KK, AB, JRr, & DH, that is a lot of people. Six. I won't be able to keep track.

"half pounder" lol

SF "also a fantastic gardener"

(nice car)

"I'm Lindsay Sloan. Not the actress, the network" -Dule Hill 1987 /j

Baby shawn has shawnvision!

Jamocha almond fudge??? THAT'S THAT BLUE ICE CREAM? I would have thought it was fake.

Lol hair

Calls him shawn?

andy "subtle" berman

Why are they talking about hot cream shaves in the psych office circa 1925, what is going on in this commentary, but I haven't seen that deleted scene. The "great north" called & asked NOT to do it in the barbershop as was initially scripted, they asked for it to be .. in the psych office. full face of cream, matching stubble levels, can it be just a gilette, shawn sleeping gus shaving himself, what abt a quatro those are new right, can they be eating shaved ices?

Main requirement for casting: good hair

JRr: We'll just get a women's large

costume shop: bounty hunter costume

Already in s2 they are deconstructing hand to head & they've already abandoned the big song & dance ritual from channeling the cat channeling gus

That's just egg whites on the flat top. Never trust a skinny chef Me: there is no such thing as a canadian accent, we (excluding east coasters who sound very gaelic) sound just like typical americans (by which I mean not east-coast new york, & not southern cowboy)

*jumps on the car*

First & last time they use greenscreen for the car.

DH: He took all my money KK: You take all my money. Tim too. CH: Who is the better poker player lou diamond phillips or W earl brown? DH: wearl Brown JRr: He's a talker, it's part of his game

tinkerbell shawnvision

SF: I worked a jungle cruise boat at disneyland for eight years

SF: Once again, continuing the theme Me: that Henry wears purple? SF: that Henry calls at the worst time possible

go stunt actors

So hard to swim with shoes on

Nah KK is right abt the clothes

It's fun when they are commenting on what's onscreen but it's also fun when they are completely off topic but it's also fun when they stop talking to just watch the show for a bit

KK: Whenever an andy berman episode comes in, chris henze always emails him a picture of edward scissorhands just to know what's in store for this episode

CH: It's fun!

FRIENDLY INDIANS WAS PLAYING IN THE BIKER BAR?

AB: By the way, not every man who looks like a man in this bar is a man, & not everyone who looks like a woman in this bar is a woman Me: Yeah they're a bunch of rock music loving bikers at a bar at who knows what time of day Me: ...Trans rights

"Pisces"

*chooses the thumb to the the first in counting from one to three* *my hoh ass knows basic asl*

First experience in upside-down harnesses (btw how is shawn's shirt still up) "How was it?" "I have a new appreciation for scenes shot upside-down" KK: I remember Andy called in & said John wanted to film this whole scene upside down before they turned over

DH: But it aligns the spine nice

KK: That's all real sweat by the way

KK: That vest we got from the costume shop. James, you WEAR that vest AB I think: That guy was a woman. (The one with the vest I think? In that case, congrats on the gender)

I feel like shawn, as someone with a bike, could be able to make himself blend in.

Gus: Like that couple from open water DH: *doesn't get the reference*

I would have LOVED that shot of the car going by without the car going by

There would also have been a shot of the cops coming to henry bc they found his boat

Another purple shirt

The camp song in the end credits is great. ily andy cohen. SF: We want to broadcast it AC: *horrified*

"I <3 coins"

& look at his hair

*actually ate the steak*

Tancana's actor had a band. "He's too good a singer for this role" DH: You don't need to be a good singer to be in a band. Just look at the friendly indians SF: That's fine dule, but season three episode one: "I'm in a polka dot dress? What?"

"I wasn't even TRYING to get involved

*after touching a dead body*

the wink

whose idea was the wedding march?

SF: Between James & Andy & I there is an obsession with hair on this show that is unrivalled

the bounty hunter walk

KK: I love it when they're like "They should totally kiss they should totally kiss!" & Steve has got this grin on his face like "I'm gonna get them close" & Andy Berman just makes it so hilarious

They're all commenting on the kiss & the chemitry & how well it played onscreen & I love it

AB: If you listen closer you could hear me laugh off camera

samee "hmm" as psy vs psy

"She likes me" "I'm frustrated"

ML learned how to do this

TIKIHAMA

Lalalalala & then the view!

[oopsallfictives]

Every time I see someone argue that women and people assumed to be women under patriarchy can't wear makeup simply because they want to, or that wearing makeup means you're bowing to the patriarchy, it feels so obvious that they can't imagine wearing makeup in a transgressive way.

Like, if a trans guy darkens his eyebrows and facial hair with makeup, that's transgressive because the patriarchy wants him to be feminine. Frankly, the patriarchy doesn't want any trans person to wear makeup unless they're doing it to fit with the gender that the patriarchy demands for them to be. People who wear makeup that fits into anti-authority countercultures are transgressive because patriarchy is authoritarian (this is why the disconnecting of those aesthetics from the countercultures they originate from benefits systems of oppression btw, it defangs them). People of color who wear makeup that's specific to their culture are transgressive because patriarchy is inextricably linked with white supremacy.

Makeup can be worn in transgressive ways, you're just boring