#and feel like hes so cool and secure in his masculinity

[himemeiya]

Had a horrible vision come to me for Pride Month...

Woke ally Akio 🏳️‍🌈

RIP Akio you would have loved pretending to be woke during Pride month... 😔 🌈

Bonus Wokio tiktok edit [x]

[wildehacked]

for the soft fic meme, 12 for buddie?

A little coda to "Invisible"—set decidedly before "Contagion!" 12. ‘you could say I’m fond of you.’ * Buck fucks it up after, like, a month. He knew he was gonna. It’s just that most of the time the only people he talks on the phone to are Maddie and his parents—like any self-respecting millennial, he texts everyone else. And when you say goodbye to your mom or your sister or your adorable tiny niece, you say something like “okay, bye now, love you.” It’s just habit, honestly. If he talked on the phone more often to more people, it wouldn’t happen at all.  He’s talking on the phone a lot now. Eddie started it literally on the drive to El Paso—Buck was still standing on the street, his heart a miserable bruise in his chest, and then his phone chimed and Eddie was FaceTiming him. Buck opened it, all like, hey man, what’d you forget, but Eddie was just grinning at him from behind the wheel, eyes on the road and not the camera. Dude, Eddie said. I know it’s just drizzling, but you’re gonna get soaked if you don’t go inside. So Buck rolled his eyes and wiped the California rain off his face and went inside, and he slowly and inefficiently unpacked a box of silverware while Eddie complained about the price of gas and asked him about Pilot stations vs Loves vs Texacos, and Buck did his best impression of a normal person whose best friend was in the act of leaving him, even though his heart was pulsing in his throat like he’d swallowed one of those Looney Tune ticking time bombs, and surely that wasn’t normal at all. 

Anyway, now they’re always on the phone. Eddie calls first, usually—Buck’s eased up on the restriction a bit, but at first he was determined not to be too clingy, so they waited on Eddie’s schedule, whether Eddie needed him, wanted him, or whatever—but it turns out Eddie needs him all the time. Wants him all the time. Wants to talk to him all the time. Whatever. Buck talks to Eddie while he shops for groceries, while he cooks dinner at the firehouse, while he’s cooling off after a run. 

He gets access to all these aching pieces of Eddie’s life: a glimpse of the backseat of Eddie’s new car, little flash of Eddie’s local Albertsons, peeling wallpaper in Eddie’s new living room that looks nothing like the pictures. And he hears about conversations with Chris (so much better already,) and conversations with Eddie’s mom (bad, not that Buck can say so,) and Uber rides that went well and Uber rides that went bad, and recipes Eddie tried that went wrong, and recipes Eddie tried that went right, and whether there’s mold in the bathroom and whether Eddie needs to hire someone to put in new windows or whether he can do it himself, and—yeah. It’s almost normal, if Buck and Eddie normally lived their lives on FaceTime. 

So Buck’s guard is down, which is why when the bell rings and Eddie’s mid-rant about airport security (loitering in the cell phone lot at the El Paso International Airport waiting for a ride to come in,) he fumbles his coffee cup and says “gotta go, okay, love you, buh-bye.” 

He hangs up before he even hears himself, and then feels his ears heat up all the way down to the rig. That was so embarrassing. Like calling the teacher mom. Like calling Cap dad. Ugh. He’ll have to explain to Eddie that it’s just because of the Maddie-Jee-parents phone thing. Later. 

But later, after the next three calls, when Eddie calls to complain about people coughing in the Uber without masks again, Buck somehow totally forgets to say anything. And then Eddie gets another ride, and he has to go, and Buck fucking. Does it again. “Be safe, love you, bye.” He hears Eddie’s surprised laugh before he fumbles to the hang-up button, and his stomach goes watery and weird. 

It’s not that weird, is the thing! Obviously he loves Eddie, they’re best friends. It’s just one of those dumb things, that he doesn’t usually say it to his friends. Probably a toxic masculinity thing, if Hen’s right about that. He should be telling all his friends he loves them. He just hates the idea that Eddie might, like—get the wrong idea. It’s not stupid to think that. Maddie thought that. Tommy thought that. Buck has to be careful, really careful, or Eddie’s going to get weirded out and stop giving Buck even these little half-real glimpses into his life. 

“I love you,” he tells Hen in the rig on their way to an apartment fire. 

Her eyebrows raise. “Oh-kay. You know something I don’t know?” 

“No,” Buck says with kind of a forced breeziness. “Just telling my friend I love her.” 

“Sure,” she says, still sounding doubtful. “I love you too?” 

“What about me,” Chim asks, kicking Buck’s chair with the side of his boot. He and Hen give each other one of those best friend looks that Buck is used to but can’t decipher.

“Uh, duh,” Buck says, even though he’s tempted to say Eh, depends whether you name my nephew after me, because he’s trying to prove a point, here. “What about Cap?” Chim prompts, and Bobby raises his eyebrows from the front of the rig.

“Obviously I love Cap,” Buck says, like that isn’t the most awkward sentence to ever come out of his mouth. Bobby sort of winces back at him, but he looks touched, too? It’s a very Midwestern kind of look. 

“What about Ravi,” Chim asks, snapping his gum, and Buck’s stomach sinks because, like, he really likes Ravi, he trusts Ravi with his life, he thinks he and Ravi honestly should become better friends, but like, does he love him? Uhh, well—but Ravi immediately shakes his head, not looking up from his phone. “Leave me out of this one,” Ravi says mildly. “Freaks.” “What brought this on?” Hen asks. 

“I keep accidentally telling Eddie I love him,” Buck says. “That’s not weird, right?” 

He gets laughed at for the rest of the shift.

* The thing is, it does actually bother Buck. Like, he’s into dudes now. He doesn’t want Eddie to think Buck’s into him. That’s important—has been since the beginning. Nothing changes between the two of them. Buck is determined not to change anything between them. Because it would be easy, right? Everybody else thinks so. It would make sense for Buck to be this pathetic loser in love with his straight best friend, haunting his house just like he haunted Abby’s house. And he’s not. He loves Eddie in a totally normal way. He loves Eddie in the way that Eddie could love him back. 

So the next time Eddie FaceTimes him, Buck’s determined to make sure Eddie gets it. He doesn’t get his chance right away, though, because before he can open his mouth, Eddie’s putting a finger up to his lips, and Buck’s jaw snaps shut. Eddie flips the camera around, and there’s Eddie’s new living room, and Eddie’s old couch, and there’s Chris, passed out with his Switch in his lap. Buck’s heart clenches like a fist.

Eddie flips the camera back around, and walks quietly out of the living room—he’s not looking at the camera, but Buck gets a glimpse of the small, private smile on his face anyway. See, it’s shit like that—how is Buck supposed to risk that? Eddie slips out the front door, and then settles down on the stoop, the late afternoon Texas sun turning his hair gold around the edges. 

“You got him back,” Buck guesses, and Eddie smiles at him, huge and happy like Buck hasn’t seen in months. “I got him back,” Eddie confirms, and Buck whoops and punches the air, which means he also accidentally drops the phone. 

“Tell me,” Buck demands, when Eddie stops laughing—not at him, but with him, giddy with his own success. “Tell me everything!”

“You were right,” Eddie says. “I just needed to show up.” Then he tells Buck the rest of the story—how he drove out to Lubbock, how Chris threw up and Eddie stepped up, how Chris hates chess, how it was easy, in the end, to draw a line in the sand with his mom. Buck is so, so happy for him, for them, for his Diaz boys, which makes it so weird that his chest just hurts the whole time Eddie’s telling him the story. 

“I knew it,” Buck says when Eddie wraps it up. “I knew he missed you.” 

Eddie’s still smiling with all his teeth, looking almost embarrassed about it. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, he did.” 

“I love that,” Buck says, or—well, okay. That’s what he means to say. What he actually says is “I love you,” a stupid slip of the tongue followed immediately by a weird hot lurch in his chest. “Wait! No.” “No?” Eddie asks. He’s laughing, thank god. “No,” Buck says firmly. “That’s too bad,” Eddie says. “I’m kinda fond of you.” “I,” Buck says, choking a little on his desire to correct the record. “Eddie! Obviously I—I mean, like—you know what I mean!” “You don’t love me,” Eddie agrees, and dramatically claps the hand not holding the phone to his chest, like he’s been shot through the heart.

“I love Hen,” Buck says, and he knows that’s a miss as soon as it comes out of his mouth. 

“Oh sure,” Eddie says, and he’s actually giggling, the phone shaking in his hand. “Me too.” 

“Eddiiiie,” Buck says again, stretching out the word in a little bit of a whine. Okay, whatever, time to give explaining his best shot. “You know, I like—most of the time I’m talking to Maddie or Jee on the phone, when I talk on the phone? And it’s, like, it’s habit.”

Eddie’s looking at him like he’s crazy, but also like he’s a cute animal video. “Have you seriously been stressing about this? Over a couple of I love yous?” 

Buck’s throat is dry. He swallows and it clicks. “I—I don’t want to make it weird, that’s all.” 

“Oh,” Eddie says, and loses the cute animal video face. “It's not weird.” 

Buck is going to crawl into a hole and die. He’s gonna find a shovel, dig a hole, and crawl into it. “It’s not?” 

“No.” “I, um.” Buck feels weirdly shaky, even though this conversation isn’t a big deal and he knows he should be celebrating Eddie and Christopher right now instead of getting all adrenalized over nothing. “I thought it might be.”  “You’re crazy,” Eddie says warmly. “Tell me more about how you love Hen.” “Shut up,” Buck says. “I told everyone I loved them.” 

“Wow,” Eddie says. “Even Ravi?” 

“I could love Ravi,” Buck says defensively, because he actually probably could! He and Ravi have been hanging out more lately! He’s getting into frisbee golf! “Ravi’s great,” Eddie agrees. “When’s his birthday?” “I don’t know, I’ll have to check your Facebook,” Buck says, and Eddie laughs, and the camera shakes with the movement. When Eddie readjusts, he brings it back closer to his face, and Buck can see the way his eyes are turning a little gold in the sunlight, too. 

“Okay,” Buck says, “Enough of that. Tell me more about how Chris is doing.” 

Eddie smiles at him. They talk about Chris for a while, then about Eddie’s plans for what he’s gonna make Chris for dinner, then about Buck’s upcoming weekend plans with Maddie and Chim. Eventually the sun starts to go down in El Paso, and Eddie says: “Alright, I should probably let you go.” 

“Okay,” Buck says, even though he doesn’t want to hang up. “Don’t over-salt the pasta water.” 

Eddie rolls his eyes. “I won’t.” Then he gets a sly grin on his face, which is the only warning Buck gets before Eddie says: “Love you, man.”

Buck’s heart somersaults in his chest. “Love you, too,” he gets out, and Eddie’s back to laughing at him as he hangs up. 

Buck stares at his dark phone, then taps it anxiously against his knee. It’s not weird. Eddie said it wasn’t weird. If it’s weird, Eddie’s being just as weird as he is. 

“I love him,” he says aloud, reassuring himself that it’s fine. No one’s around to hear him; it makes Buck shiver anyway. 

[rafesbimbo]

Gimmie Sum' Sugar

Warnings: 18+, 1.5k words, porn with slight plot, oral (f), overstimulation, degradation, praise, eren is a munch, dirty talk

a/n: this is for the ladies!!! eren in his natural habitat || likes nd reblogs r appreciated!!

The dorm room smelled like Eren—clean laundry, cedarwood cologne, and something masculine and warm you could never quite name. It wasn’t much: twin beds pushed together, string lights draped sloppily across the ceiling, a desk cluttered with textbooks and protein bars. But it was your space. Or at least it had been, every time he pulled you in by the wrist and told you to stay the night.

Tonight, it was late.

And you were waiting.

You sat on his bed, bare legs tucked under an oversized hoodie that hung off one shoulder. One of his. It still smelled like him too.

He’d texted you an hour ago: “Almost done. Keep the bed warm for me.”

You bit your lip and glanced at your phone again.

The door creaked open.

Eren walked in, dark hair tied back messily, gray hoodie half-zipped, exposing the sculpted ridges of his chest. His green eyes lit up when he saw you curled up on the bed, and that grin—the slow, hungry one—spread across his face.

“Hey, baby,” he said, voice a little rough, dropping his backpack by the door.

You stretched, letting the hem of your hoodie ride up your thighs just enough to tease. “Took you long enough.”

He was on you in two strides.

Warm hands slid up your thighs, and then his mouth was on yours—soft at first, lips tasting like cinnamon gum and something deeper. He kissed you like he missed you, like he’d been thinking about this all day.

And you knew he had.

“I was losing my mind in class,” he murmured against your lips. “Kept thinking about how sweet you sounded last night… the way you begged.”

You flushed hot, thighs pressing together instinctively. His hands didn’t miss the movement.

“Missed me?” you asked, voice small and teasing.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, one hand gripping your jaw gently.

“Always.” A pause. “You been good for me while I was gone?”

You nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.”

His praise hit like a jolt to your stomach. You melted, already sinking into that space where only Eren’s voice and hands existed. He tugged the hoodie up and off, baring your chest to the cool air, eyes raking over you like he was memorizing every inch.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he breathed. “Mine.”

He kissed down your neck, slow and reverent, his hands roaming your body like he had all the time in the world. And for a while, he was soft—stroking, whispering against your skin, telling you how much he missed you, how good you were.

But it didn’t stay gentle for long.

“Lay back,” he murmured, voice going low. “Hands above your head.”

You obeyed instantly, heart hammering as he reached into the drawer beside the bed and pulled out the soft red restraints you knew so well. He kissed your wrists as he tied them, securing you to the bedframe.

“I want you to feel everything tonight,” he said, climbing between your legs. “No squirming. No hiding.”

His fingers trailed down your stomach, stopping at the waistband of your panties. “Already wet for me?”

You whimpered, nodding.

He tugged them down with agonizing slowness, eyes fixed on you. “You always get like this when I talk to you, huh? Just a few words and you’re dripping.”

He settled between your thighs, breath hot against your core.

Then he licked you.

Eren’s tongue was slow at first, lazy and warm, dragging a long stripe up your folds like he was just getting a taste. Your thighs trembled as he dipped his tongue inside you, groaning at how wet you already were.

“Fuck, baby,” he murmured against your pussy. “You’re already soaking. You really did miss me.”

You nodded, hands flexing against the restraints.

“Use your words,” he said, licking up to your clit and circling it with maddening patience.

“I missed you,” you whispered. “I missed your mouth, your hands… everything.”

He smiled, breath warm. “Yeah? You gonna be my good girl tonight?”

“Mhm..”

That earned you a deep groan and a sudden flick of his tongue right over your clit. You cried out, hips bucking, but his hands pressed down firmly on your thighs, pinning you in place.

“No moving,” he growled. “If you want to come tonight, you’re going to take everything I give you. Understand?”

You whimpered, nodding.

“Use your words.”

“Please..”

And just like that, his mouth was back on you, this time relentless.

He devoured you—messy, open-mouthed, hungry. His tongue worked in perfect rhythm, lapping at your clit while one thick finger slid inside you, curling just right. You moaned, hips twitching despite yourself, your wrists straining against the restraints as you felt your orgasm rushing up too fast.

“I can feel you clenching already,” he whispered against you. “You gonna come for me that quick, sweetheart? That needy?”

You nodded frantically, eyes rolling back.

“Then come,” he said, lips sealing over your clit.

You broke.

Back arched, a strangled cry tearing from your throat as your body shuddered under him. The orgasm hit like a wave, hot and blinding, and Eren didn’t stop—his mouth kept working you through it, licking you as your thighs trembled and your moans turned into soft little gasps.

But then—

He didn’t stop.

“E-Eren—too much—”

“No such thing,” he growled. “You can give me more. I know you can.”

He added a second finger, thrusting slow and deep, tongue circling your swollen clit with practiced ease. You were still twitching from the first orgasm, overstimulated and raw, but it only made the next one hit harder.

You cried out again, body arching off the bed as you came a second time, your voice cracking into a sob. Eren moaned against you, savoring every second of it.

“Look at you,” he said, pulling back for just a moment to watch your wrecked expression. “So pretty when you fall apart. So perfect for me.”

Your thighs were slick, your body trembling, and still—still—he didn’t stop.

He slipped his fingers out and replaced them with the smooth, cool bulb of a small vibe. You gasped at the sudden sensation, too sensitive to bear it.

“Eren—Eren please—”

“You can take it,” he murmured, kissing your inner thigh. “You’re my good girl, remember? You love this. You love making me proud.”

And fuck—you did.

Even through the tears forming in your eyes, the overstimulation, the twitch of your thighs—you wanted to make him proud.

So you nodded.

“Attagirl.”

The vibrator buzzed to life against your clit, and Eren just watched—stroking your stomach, whispering praise into your skin as your body writhed, helpless and bound.

“Good girl. So strong. So fucking sweet.”

Your body trembled violently under the buzz of the toy, breath hitching in stuttered gasps. Eren leaned over you, one hand resting low on your stomach to feel the way your muscles clenched with every pulse.

“You’re doing so good,” he murmured, lips brushing your ear. “You’re amazing like this. Letting go for me… letting me ruin you.”

You moaned through gritted teeth, the pleasure now toeing the edge of pain—your clit too sensitive, your thighs trembling uncontrollably. Tears beaded at the corners of your eyes.

But his voice kept you grounded.

“So pretty when you cry,” he whispered, brushing one away with his thumb. “Doesn’t mean you want me to stop though, does it?”

“N-No,” you choked out. “Please… don’t stop—need it—need you—”

That wrecked little sound you made did something to him. He kissed your forehead, then your temple, then dragged the vibrator lower just for a second to give your clit a break—before replacing it with his tongue again.

Hot. Wet. Relentless.

And then—he moaned against you.

That sound vibrated through your whole body. You came again.

Third time.

This one ripped through you. No warning. No build. Just white heat and mindless sobbing. Your back arched hard, a scream caught in your throat as your vision blurred, tears slipping free as your body convulsed under the unrelenting pleasure.

Eren didn’t stop.

His mouth stayed buried between your thighs, licking you through it until you were barely twitching, barely breathing, boneless and trembling.

And then—finally—he pulled back.

He kissed his way up your body, leaving a hot trail of praise against your skin.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured. “So strong. So perfect for me. That’s it, sweetheart. I got you.”

You were sobbing softly now—not from pain, but from the release. The sheer intensity. He gently undid your wrists, kissing each one like an apology, then gathered you into his arms.

Wrapped in a blanket, against his warm chest, you felt safe. Weightless.

He held you there, stroking your hair as your breathing slowed.

“You did so good for me,” he whispered again. “Took everything like my good girl.”

You nuzzled into him, voice small.

“I like when you wreck me.”

He chuckled, low and fond, lips brushing your temple.

“I know, baby. That’s why I’m gonna keep doing it. Over and over. Until all you can say is my name.”

You sighed, dazed and warm in his arms.

“I love you,” you whispered.

“I love you too,” he murmured back, kissing your forehead. “And this perfect little pussy? It’s mine.”

[jaeyunologyy]

Anonymous asked:

02z fucking you with fnaf animatronic heads on 🫢

a/n: not gonna be lore accurate bcs im horny as fuck for them, at first i wanna use the ogs fnaf 1 characters but fuck it let's pick one hot character from the first 3 fnaf(s) + my two worlds colliding :)

edit: felt like reposting this for spooky szn :)

jay wearing springtrap's

the worn out green bunny head covering his masculine face only making his sharp eyes visible making you feel some type of way. dirty but thrilled. scared but aroused.

you sensed fear in your veins while you look at the psychopathic killer bunny animatronic head that you despise so much is now being worn by your lover while his cock is pounding you so good not missing any spots, his fat tip is throbbing inside of you because you're tighter clamping down on him today.

is it the springtrap head making you scared so you behave with your best or you're just actually a fucked up little girl living her best life with her dark fantasy?

his big hand wrapped around your throat pressing the sides lightly making you lightheaded, you're already a bit fuzzy from small space of the vent that's been pinning him against you since earlier when you guys were crawling in it to explore the place more and you found springtrap's head in one of the lanes in the vents.

his voice echoed within the small space of springtrap's head. "little bunny is too tight on me today, is she enjoying herself hmm? my little doll is pretty with fear in her eyes. did you like getting fucked by a monster. who could kill you in an instant baby? hell you're gushing on me right now. guess i know the answer now, and if i'm not satisfied with it i can always come back right?" and the growly voice of his was accompanied by creaking noises of the vent while he was pistoning in and out of you or maybe you just have a visitor that's enjoying the show?

jake wearing mangle's

you're bent over the counter in the pizzeria's kitchen while your whiny boyfriend is fucking you with a white & pink fox head he found while trampling around the abandoned placed.

while you were looking around the kitchen he creeped up behind you catching you off guard which was so hot because he was so light on his steps that you did not catch a sound you felt so small to him. you could feel his breath right by your face that was pressed against mangle's muzzle.

jake was a huge a fan of mangle and he admitted to you during halloween that he wanted to fuck you while he's wearing a mask preferably mangle's.

and that's how you ended up breaking in to the pizzeria to find the head for him to wear while he's angling his tip to press against your gspot making you trickle out on the floor from squirting for him. the excitement from the fear made the sex much more enjoyable. the intermission noise sounded from the surveillance, you knew they were near but fuck you're too brainless for it.

"you like my mask baby? you squirted all over the floor because of it. need to take you again in our bedroom many many times you want while i put this mask on." you felt he nuzzled against your neck with the mask on while lightly grazing the razor sharp teeth on your nape. "need to mark you with it so you can't never run away from me. i'll always catch you puppy. you're mine, you're under me forever."

sunghoon wearing foxy's

sunghoon has been so mean to you ever since you told him you liked foxy and how you found him attractive for an animatronic.

it's so ironic when he was fucking you on the security guard table while wearing foxy's head. he knew about your fantasy and even though he's mean about it, he's still willing to be dragged by you to go 'visit' the pre-demolished pizzeria in order to bring home foxy's mask.

ever since you got the mask you can't stop gushing on how cool it is, how pretty it is, how valuable it could be and how bad you want to be fucked by the animatronic if it's capable of it. it pissed sunghoon off so much, he pulled you into the surveillance room, closing both side doors and made you sit on the table while he put the mask on snapping the jaw at your face everytime you made a too loud sound and finger you open to take his cock.

"really pup? you wanna get fucked by a fox robot, so fucking nasty. i know stupid girls like you only think about getting stuffed by random things in their cunny but a fox? that's disgusting little vixen. i can always fuck you baby. anytime. and i'll make you feel much better than that stupid fox could."

you guys left the guard room with cumstains and bite marks on your shoulders, neck and chest from hoon's biting using foxy's teeth. it might've been your imagination but you were sure a growl outside the door when hoon was talking down the fox while fucking you.

[alwayscorvus]

"Too grumpy to handle" - How your relathioship with Gallagher began

"Too grumpy to handle" - How your relathioship with Gallagher began

malereader x older!Gallagher, fluff; warning! doing 18+/21+ acts hinted;

It's obvious that when you saw such a handsome man sitting alone at the bar, you just had to join him. You weren't saint. His look itself made you want to persue him. Seeing that pile of muscles peeking through unbuttoned shirt- his masculine, slightly bearded face- and what's more- this gentle eyes-... You felt something deep inside.

You, casualy took a seat next to the man. And he only threw you a quick glance.

Nevertheless, you didn't retreat from battlefield so easily. As every "typical player", you ordered two whiskeys with Cokes. For yourself and for him.

Old roadside bar was practically empty. Warm candlelight gently smoldered in a wooden room. No one was paying attention to you. Even bartender stayed back in his break room and left it only from time to time to serve some orders.

Gallagher accepted your drink without a word. Since he was already sitting there anyway, he could listen to you. Especially for free whiskey.

Besides, as you found out later, he was used to it. As a mixologist, he had listened to more than one drunk person in his life. And he often enjoyed taking their places. Especially after having a hard time in work.

It was one of those days when everything accumulated and he just had enough. Today's stowaway chase… Completely drained him out. Everyone demanded something from him. Superiors wanted him to solve cases as quickly as possible, without complaining. Subordinates hoped to find in him a support, role model and even better, someone who would do everything for them. Family waited for promotions and an ideal son who should have started his own household a long time ago and give them grandchildren.

That's why it's no wonder that all he wanted to do at that moment, was to give himself to you. Sink into your embrace. You were so warm, so affectionate-

This vibe of responsibility, masculinity, security, all the way urged him to let you take control.

Trying to act casual, he allowed you to lead the way, with intertwined hands. Up the shadowed stairs, to one of a rooms for rent. This for worn-out wanderers.

He wasn't sure why it happened. Such situations weren't common for him. Or at least never in such position. Everyone, seeing him, felt intimidated and took for granted his willingness to lead. And he just didn't protest. Just like now. He was so unbothered. When you sobered up, you even had some moral doubt. If for sure, you hadn't taken advantage of his weakness. He assured you, however, that if he really didn't feel like it, he would have kicked you in balls, handcuffed, arrested and lead you to the nearest police station.

Apparently this had happened to him more than once. Hearing that, a sudden shiver of terror went through you. You were so close to suffering a drastic consequences.

When it was all over, and you regained your strength, you turned your attention back to Gallagher.

He was sitting with his legs straight, leaning against the headboard of large bed. His lower body was covered by a white, soft duvet. You, on the other hand, were lying sideways, on a bent arm, almost snuggled into a cozy pillow.

You couldn't take your eyes off Gallagher. Glow of street lamps, crept into the bedroom through half-exposed window and tickled his slowly cooling body.

Gallagher carefully lit a cigarette, with a lighter he had earlier fished out of his pants, that had been tossed onto a floor. Orange, playful flame let you see his face in new colors.

He fixed strands of hair that were sticky from sweat and hid them behind his ear. Allowing you by that to get a closer look at his other features.

With each passing second, you began to like him more and more.

He threw a closed lighter to the edge of a bed and took a decent drag of nicotine.

At the same time, Gallagher stared at the wall in front of him. He was was thinking hard about something. Instead of paying attention to your presence.

When he let out a puff of smoke something tickled your nostrils.

He didn't even offer you a cigarette.

Perhaps you didn't look like a person who smoked too often. Or maybe your needs didn't really matter to him.

You weren't taken aback. You raised your free hand and gently began to draw a small circles on his firm chest. While doing so, you asked how was he feeling. If he was all right, if he wasn't in pain. Gallagher only hummed to you reassuringly, while still staring blankly into a space.

After a minute, however, perhaps pushed by your sudden affection, which he didn't expect, he stubbed his cigarette. Crushed it against a glass bottom of an ashtray and turned suddenly toward you. Like a large but harmless bear, he snuggled into your embrace. Surprising you quite a bit in the process. He hid his head in crook of your neck and decided to take advantage of his last moments with you.

After all, they were so nice. It was the first time in so long when he could really relax and feel so comfortable and safe. No one judged him.

Gallagher couldn't expect that you took him seriously and that you didn't plan to just leave him. Especially since you felt something more for him after that night.

You have permanently added yourself into his schedule. You visited him during work, brought food, and chatted. Gallagher wasn't very talkative, but your funny stories or anecdotes were able to provide him with an entertainment. He wouldn't admit it, but every workday, he looked forward to the hour when you would finally visit him. Most often it happened at a lunchtime. Sometimes completely out of the blue. And when you decided to come at the end of his shift Gallagher began to grind his teeth. Apparently, he was becoming even more grumpy than usual, and his co-workers couldn't stand his gloomy mood.

By the way, Gallagher liked to complain about them. This provided him with a great pleasure. An opportunity to speak out. Especially when his subordinates, as usual, did something wrong. Sure, they were young and inexperienced, but had they really not been taught anything at school?

You were the only way to soothe his nerver, other than a bottle of whiskey.

Gallagher, however, couldn't allow himself to think about anything else. You were too young for him.

Of course, you were already an adult, you had a job, your own apartment. You were also responsible and had enough experience in life to not treat it like a game. And your age difference at this phase wasn't really a problem anymore, since neither of you had been teenagers for a long time.

But Gallagher insisted that you deserved someone better, younger. With whom you could still enjoy and experience a lot. Go through stages that Gallagher had long since passed.

You repeatedly tried to knock this silly thinking out of his head. You assured him that all this didn't matter to you, as long as you could be with him. That he is the perfect one for you, exactly the way he is. That you are not looking for anyone younger, because no one will provide what he does. And that he is the one with whom you want to experience all these beautiful moments together.

When Gallagher understood that you weren't planning to surrender, he gave up. He hoped that maybe after some time you would get bored. Especially, after living together. He thought that after experiencing his "non-ideal" form in a daily domestic routine, you will decide to look for someone else. Oh, how wrong he was.

Now? Now you are a happy couple and make an almost perfect match. At least that's what your friends say. Sure, you have small quarrels occasionally. About his not closed shoe polish or your coffee grounds left in a cup. But despite this, nothing gives you as much pleasure as spending time together, in your four walls.

… Only sometimes you're maybe a little too jealous. About how many buttons Gallagher wears undone and how loosely his tie is. But at such moments, man assures you that he is only yours and lets you snuggle into his chest. In the afternoons, when he comes home and you have a sulky face and don't greet him with usual "welcome home".

Over the next few days, he obeys your suggestions and buttons up to almost every last thing. Besides, he has no other choice. You mark him too much at such occasions. And Gallagher doesn't really want his co-workers to see your bites and tease him about that.

🌸

[splicejunction]

back to watching titans so i need to finally publish me and jordan’s straight dick grayson manifesto:

he’s had sex with a man exactly once and it was wally during og titans era and learning this was like 9/11 for roy who has it on good authority that wally west gives terrible head so roy is like it should’ve been me. it should’ve been me and if it were me he wouldn’t be straight (he would). maybe if he’d let me hit just once he’d realize he’s bisexual (he wouldn’t)

the thing about dickroy in outsiders is i do feel like if it was reciprocated it would just happen like neither of these men are particularly repressed (sexually at least) outsiders 2003 makes the most sense TO ME if roy is like "pleasepleaseplease just one chance i built this whole team for you" and dick is like. will everyone PLEASE stop HANDING me things i want to EARN something for once in my LIFE i want to MAKE something MYSELF. and then bruce paypals him another $50000 for team expenses or whatever and he screams cries throws up and quits the team. and roy is like in the corner shaking his head like "gay sex would fix him" (it wouldnt)

he does make out with men at gay bars and at some point (after she comes back to life) donna’s like "hey listen man you gotta stop doing that you’re putting every one of your male friends through hell on earth because they’re all in love with you especially roy" and dick gives her a big lecture about how first of all he's just being an ally to queer men and making his friends feel comfortable in their spaces and he's secure in his masculinity. whats a little tongueing between men. he's like "we’re just having fun and i tell them i'm not gonna have sex with them and theyre cool with it." and donnas like "well its great that its consensual and you're being upfront but it still feels like you shouldn't be doing that" and then dick cuts her off like "second of all it’s really biphobic that you think roy’s in love with me just because he’s bisexual" and he sends her a link to educational resources from glaad.org

[heliads]

LISA REQUESTS ARE OPEN AHHHH!!! I have been waiting for this moment!!

Could I pretty please request Steven Meeks (my beloved) with a female reader? The reader is a student at Welton who’s disguised herself and pretended to be a boy at her family’s request since Welton doesn’t accept girls but she was smart enough to get in and her family wanted her to have a good education. Since she’s friends with Neil and Charlie, she gets invited to be a part of the Dead Poets Society, and because of that she gets to know Meeks and gets closer to him, but she feels terrible about lying to him. So one night at a Dead Poets meeting, she stands up and admits to being a girl, and though she’s terrified about them reacting badly the other Dead Poets promise not to tell anyone because she’s their friend (except for Cameron, obvs, but the others kind of bully him into promising). And then afterwards she has a one-on-one conversation with Meeks where she tells him how she feels and he admits he feels the same (and maybe he even felt the same about her when he thought she was a boy but was scared to say anything) and it’s just really cute?

Of course, if you don’t wanna write this that’s totally cool!! Thanks in advance, and I hope you’re doing well, beloved!! <3

'the secrets that we keep' - steven meeks

masterlist

a/n: in the fic, b/n stands for boy name. since reader is pretending to be a boy, you need a boy name for Vibes and Plot

Although dutifully called on by schoolboys to change the age-old protocol, Welton Academy has never admitted a girl to their brilliant ranks. For reasons of religious purity, single-minded pursuit of study, and otherwise knowing how easily distracted teenage boys are by a pretty face, the doors of this bright school have shut in the face of willing and able female candidates for years. It is a long-standing rule, as familiar as not running in the halls or sneaking off campus to engage in underage drinking. Similarly, this rule is about to be ignored by yet another student, and this one is you.

Headmaster Nolan firmly intended to maintain this rule. Your parents wanted a good education for their daughter. Never before has such a violent clash rocked the hills of Vermont. Not in a while, at least. It took many, many heated arguments and a good deal of defensive letters, plus a promise to secure an internship at a nearby hospital for the son of Headmaster Nolan’s good friend, a certain Mr. Perry. Also, you would have to promise to keep the whole girl thing under wraps.

This may seem impossible, but they were the terms of your acceptance to the prestigious school, and you were willing to live by them. No doubt Headmaster Nolan would be watching you like a hawk for even the smallest of slip ups, but you don’t intend to give him even a second of victory over you. You’ll play according to his rules, and you’ll ace your classes at the same time. Wouldn’t it be funny if one of Welton’s brightest pupils was a girl?

These were the sorts of thoughts that helped tide you over the summer until your first day of school. When that inevitable day came around, though, you couldn’t help but feel paranoia wrap around your stomach with cold, digging claws. This whole idea seemed impossible. How could you possibly pretend to be a boy the whole time you were at the school? You could cut your hair short and deepen your voice, stomp around the halls and act as if you were just like the rest, but what a thing to do. Still, whenever you think about quitting, you think about the triumphant expression on the headmaster’s face, knowing he’d assigned you the one task he thought impossible. If you were going to do anything, you could at least prove him wrong.

With this mindset in place, you move your belongings into Welton. You’ve been given a single room, as the headmaster decided that having a roommate would only complicate things. Smart move there; it might be difficult to hide your evident lack of masculinity from someone who’d be with you around the clock.

There are plenty of singles in the Welton dorms, the students placed inside for various reasons. It’s nothing uncommon. Still, it does draw a fair amount of attention during move-in, as students pretend not to openly stare at you while you’re unpacking your luggage to see what kind of kid could manage to pull the lucky slot of a dorm room all to themselves.

One group of boys in particular seems keen on making your acquaintance, although their attention, unlike that of many of the other students coincidentally passing by your door, seems pleasant instead of demanding. Their apparent leader, Neil Perry, drops by to say hello. Always glad to see a new face, or so he’d claimed.

Neil was the first, quickly followed by his new roommate, Todd Anderson, plus Neil’s best friend, Charlie Dalton. An additional entourage of Gerard Pitts and Steven Meeks joined them soon enough, and a redheaded Richard Cameron followed up the tour, although judging by the not-so-subtle hostility in everyone’s glances his way, Cameron would be the least favored of the whole group.

At first, you’re terrified to have that much attention directed your way. Your goal was to skate under the radar, only making friends when you absolutely had to so you could both avoid detection and focus on your studies. Although it might make for a lonelier experience, staying undercover was far more important. Your parents were sacrificing a lot to keep you in Welton’s halls. You couldn’t afford to disappoint them by getting caught all because you started feeling alone.

However, none of the boys seem to notice that you’re not what you claim. They take up your explanation of having recently moved there readily enough, as it would explain why they’d never heard of your boy name before. You picked that one out earlier that month as if it were a new notebook or yet another school supply: B/N. It’ll be tricky to remember to respond to that name, but no trickier than any other part of this little scheme.

Besides, once classes start to kick up, all of you have far bigger fish to fry than unraveling the precise identities of the latest addition to the friend group. Soon, questions about where you grew up and how you managed to get yourself cast down to Hellton are replaced with frantic trig study sessions and grievous Latin complaints.

If there’s one class none of you seem to mind at all, though, it would be English. The other boys heard rumors that you’d be getting a new teacher, but none of them knew a thing about this Mr. Keating. The general consensus is that English this term would be no different from English at any other time of year; plenty of assigned readings, loads of essays required to be written under short durations, and all of the other joys that a required literature course often brings.

This, however, was not to be the case. From the moment Mr. Keating opened his mouth, all of you knew you’d be in for a treat. Some of you were less hesitant to embrace Mr. Keating into your hearts, namely Cameron, but the rest of you have been quick to appreciate what you have. For once, you’re having fun in class. Who could have an issue with that?

And, when Neil swoops by your seat and asks you if you’d be willing to engage in the first meeting of the new Dead Poets Society out in the woods that evening, you know that the impact your new teacher has on his students is far more drastic than even you’d envisioned. You agree readily, and the rest of your friends look pleased with themselves for managing to boost their numbers with such an agreeable fellow.

If there was one boy who looked the happiest that you’d be joining them after hours, you’d have to say that it was Steven Meeks. Although he may not be the loudest of the set, Steven has quickly been rising through the ranks in your mind. He’s been working on this radio set almost nonstop with Pitts, but every time Steven accomplishes even the smallest of achievements, he immediately has to put everything aside to rush to your side and tell you all about it. It’s wonderful to watch him, how his eyes light up as he talks, hands waving wildly in the air while he talks about receiving signals and communication potential.

You should know better than to get attached. There is a significant chance that your whole ruse will be revealed sooner rather than later, and you’ll be unceremoniously removed from Welton, never to speak to any of these boys again. Still, watching Steven’s ginger curls fall messily about his bright eyes, tracing the path of his hand absentmindedly combing back the strands so he can focus on repeating the information he’s just learned, you can’t help but wonder if maybe this one connection wouldn’t be so bad. Your friends wouldn’t turn you in.

Besides, cutting yourself off from Steven sort of feels like chopping off a limb. When the lot of you sneak out from the dorms that evening, running and howling through the forest, Steven stays by your side the entire time. Dry leaves crunch underfoot, and the moon hangs low and bright overhead. Your heart beats erratically from its cage in your ribs, and you wonder how you could ever have been afraid of something like this. This is living, you decide. You and Steven in the endless night, laughing like crazy, more free than you’ve ever been even as you live your greatest lie.

The first meeting of the Dead Poets Society is a wild success. You take turns reading off various stanzas and prose, alternating between oohing appreciatively at a particularly good turn of phrase and teasing each other wholeheartedly whenever someone provides the opportunity. Despite the jokes, the atmosphere in the cave is reverential, almost. Everyone believes in the strange spirit that’s bewitched all of you, the knowledge that what you’re doing here will make you gods of men. It’s entrancing and awe-inspiring and the first thing you ask the next morning is when all of you will be meeting up to do it again.

Charlie breaks into raucous laughter. “See, that’s the spirit we want! Even B/N here wants more. We’re high off poetry, imagine that.”

You scowl at him, even as the others laugh along. “What do you mean, even B/N? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Charlie rolls his eyes. “Nothing, honestly. Just that you didn’t seem all that inclined to hang out with us at the start of the semester, that’s all. We got worried you didn’t like us so much, but obviously that’s not so anymore.”

You arch a brow incredulously. “Of course I like you guys! Would I put up with Neil’s monologues if I didn’t? Or Cameron’s bullshit? Or all of you howling in a cave past midnight so we can pay homage to dead poets worldwide?”

Steven snorts, more at the disbelieving look on Cameron’s face than anything else. “Now that’s a vote of sympathy if you’ll ever get one. I, for one, never doubted you.”

Charlie scoffs loudly. “Of course you didn’t, Steven. Anyone who listens to you ramble on about the benefits of the modern radio as much as B/N would have to be your best friend. Honestly, I’m surprised that didn’t scare him off more than anything else.”

Steven’s face falls, and to cover up for it, you say quickly, “I don’t mind the radio talk. Honest. It’s interesting.”

“Sure it is,” Charlie says a little too loudly, “So’s the company. Anyway, B/N’s right. How about tomorrow night for another meeting? Bring your best limericks, I want to be entertained.”

Neil breaks into choking laughter. “Absolutely, your highness. All your jesters will do their best to make you crack a smile.”

“It’s an honor and a privilege, you know that,” Charlie defends himself.

As you watch the friend group devolve into cackling laughter, you can’t help but meet Steven’s eyes across the table. Instead of getting caught up in the mock argument between Charlie and Neil, he hasn’t lost focus on you for one instant. When he catches you looking, he smiles quietly and mouths, thank you. You smile back.

The meetings of the illustrious Dead Poets Society carry on for weeks. As they go, you realize that you’ve never had friends like these, and it feels as if you never will. They’re the best, brightest bunch of boys in the world. You trust them more than you do anyone else. Those sacred spaces in the caves off campus, baptized by moonlight and wild imagination, make you feel more like you than anything else.

Except, of course, for one secret that still hangs in your way.

You haven’t told anyone that you’re a girl. Your silence carries with it the weight of your studies at Welton. If you want to stay, no one can know. It’s as easy as that. Still, in the quiet, happy moments when the wild laughter fades and you’re left looking around at the faces of the boys who have become your brothers, you can’t help but wonder if maybe you could tell them after all. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if they knew. Maybe they would even help you maintain your cover.

It would be nice to have a little bit of this burden off of your shoulders, after all. It feels as if every waking moment not spent studying is chained to making this lie work. Every time someone talks to you, you’re certain they’ve figured you out. This sort of paranoia is driving you mad, and being able to finally share the secret feels like a relief akin to offering a drink of water to a man dying of thirst.

The opportunity to share comes up sooner than you expected. At one of the Dead Poets Society’s meetings, Neil turns to you with a slight frown when they’re asking around for someone else to share a piece.

“B/N, do you want to go next? You’ve been quiet all meeting, I don’t want to speak over you accidentally.”

You shake your head a little too quickly. “No, no, I’m good. Just thinking.”

This, more than anything, attracts attention. Charlie grins, leaning over to you dramatically. “Thinking about what? World domination?”

You snort. “I’ll leave those plans to you, thanks.”

“Come on, B/N, talk to us,” Neil urges. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Your breath hitches in your throat. This is it, your chance. They’re all here, all willing to hear you out. If not now, then when?

“Alright,” you begin, “There is something I do need to say. I’ve, uh, been keeping a secret from you. A pretty big one.”

Charlie arches a brow. “A big secret? Let me guess, you’re secretly a teacher in disguise sent to keep an eye on us.”

This would usually elicit a laugh from you, but tonight you’re so worried about getting this right that you can’t even muster up a weak chuckle. “Not quite, Charlie. I’m–” The words dry up in your throat. How do you say this, after all this time?

The other boys stare at you expectantly. You’ve started now, you can’t back out anymore. “I’m a girl,” you say in a rush. “My parents wanted me to get a good education so they sent me to Welton. The headmaster really didn’t want to let me in, but he only allowed me to enroll if no one knew I was a girl. He said he didn’t want to mess with his pristine record of only letting boys inside or something. It’ll still show up on my college record that I went here, and he wouldn’t have to handle the difficulty of more girl students. I’ve been pretending to be a boy this whole time, but I’m not. I’m a girl.”

The words hang in the air. For once, the cave is absolutely silent. You can hear quiet breathing all around you, nothing more. Your eyes are fixed on the stone in front of you, resolutely refusing to meet anyone’s gaze. You’re certain that if you were to look up, you’d only see disgust or disbelief on their faces. This was their sacred space, and you’ve broken it to bits with your secret. You never should have told them. You never should have thought you could pull this off in the first place.

Just when you’re debating the merits of running for the dorms to get out of here, Charlie starts clapping loudly. You jerk up, expecting him to be mocking you, but instead his expression is celebratory. “Let’s go!” He says. “I’ve been waiting for a girl to go here forever. Of course Headmaster Nolan would be an asshole about it. Wow. Can you get more of your friends to enroll, too?”

You stare at him incredulously. “You’re not mad?”

Neil breaks in. “Why on earth would we be mad? That’s totally cool. You’re like a spy or something. We should write a poem about it. Maybe even a play.”

You can’t help but laugh at that. “It would be an honor to be your muse, Neil. But seriously, you’re all fine with it?”

“Of course we are,” Charlie assures you. “Jesus, have you really been worried about that? What were we going to do, kick you out? Your secret’s safe with us. We’re not rats.”

“We’re not?” Cameron chooses this moment to pipe up.

Immediately, he’s hit with death glares from every other boy in the cave. “No, we’re not,” Neil says firmly. “And if anyone even hints to an administrator or other student that B/N’s not a boy, they’ll get their ass kicked. Is that understood?”

Cameron nods, not meeting your eyes. Still, you have a feeling he’ll keep your secret.

Pitts raises a hand. “If you’re not a boy, is B/N your real name?”

“No,” you answer him. “I’m actually Y/N.”

“Sick name,” Charlie comments.

You swat him on the shoulder. “Shut up, Charlie.”

“Nuwanda,” he says in a dramatically injured tone.

Just like that, the tension is diffused. Once you’ve been assured a few more times that no one will say a word about your inherent lack of boyhood, the agenda turns back to poetry more. It’s like nothing even happened, except everything did. Your friends still support you. You feel more free than you could have even imagined, knowing that everything worked out.

On the way back to the dorms, you hang back a little, wanting to take in the events of the past hour by yourself. Steven notices and joins you.

“So,” he says quietly, “Y/N.”

“Y/N,” you affirm. “It’s not too weird, is it?”

“Trust me, it’s not,” Steven says. “This actually answers a lot of questions for me.”

You cock your head to the side. “What do you mean?”

It’s hard to tell in the darkness of night, but you swear his cheeks have started to heat up. “Well, I realized– or, I thought, really, I was sort of still deciding that for myself, I mean– Well, Y/N, I think I love you.”

Silence in the forest. “You love me?” You ask cautiously.

Steven scratches his head. “Yeah, I do. Hadn’t really admitted it to myself yet because I thought you were a boy. There was a lot of reflection going on. This makes a lot more sense, though.”

You can’t help it, but break into laughter. “I’m fascinated by that. What have the past few weeks been like for you?”

“Very confusing,” he answers. “Still a lot of questions left unanswered.”

“Like what?” You ask.

“Like if you like me,” he says quietly.

You smile again. “Well, I thought that one was obvious. I love you too.”

Steven stops walking completely. “Really?”

“Really,” you laugh. “Now come on, we have to get back to our dorms before an administrator notices we’re gone.”

Steven sighs dramatically. “The administrators are the last thing I want to talk about right now.”

You think your smile might never fade. “Me too. We’ve got plenty of time for that, though.”

Plenty of time indeed. The rest of this term, then on and on until both you and Steven can sum up perfectly what it feels like to be absolutely happy. For now, though, you think you’ll let the sensation of him taking your hand for the first time to lead you back through the forest do the explaining for you.

requested by @faerieroyal, i hope you enjoy!

dead poets society tag list: empty for now!

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[theghoulboysblog]

hi aly!!! u should talk about ryan 🥺 i wanna hear 🫶🏽

AWWW THANK YOU VEE :))) ur the sweetest! i will always take the opportunity to be a little insane and parasocial about ryan :)

i’ve already talked about this another post, and it usually comes up whenever i talk about ry, but i truly love his personality and how kind-hearted and gentle he is. he really is such a lovely dude. like, the way comforts shane in the rare instances when shane gets nervous just warms my heart. or the way he goes out of his way to compliment shane without any sort of shame or hesitation?!? it’s just so sweet!!! like he truly went from “no homo bro” to being the picture of secure masculinity and it’s just so cool to see :)

i also really like how funny he is. he’s SO fucking funny. like, all the time. even the way he strings sentences together is super funny to me. i don’t know ig i just love his mind and the way it works. like most times it’s not even what he says, but the nonchalant way he says it. he’s just effortlessly hilarious to me idk?!? :)

i also love how “stereotypical” guy coded he is. HEAR ME OUT. this is kind of an odd thing, but it’s the culture that i grew around so it’s so familiar. mari talked about how she walked into ryan’s apartment during the early days of their relationship and there were 10 guys playing smash bros on air mattresses and how it was such a culture shock, but weirdly enough, that’s the opposite of a culture shock for me lmfao. that’s the vibe i grew up around. so i find it comforting that he’s a sporty, video game playing, kinda “stereotypical” guy cause honestly most men i meet are like that. and the men that i know like that are also very pro equality and pro queer, just like ryan, so it’s always such a warm and welcoming thing to see for me because I feel like that’s not what’s expected from very sporty men :)

also he’s a respectful man who is so loving towards people. like, how can you hate that??? he has taken the time to speak out about human rights issues so many times. he’s pro queerness. he’s very vocally anti trump. he is so kind and respectful to the women that he is around. this is all bare minimum but like :) ya love to see it :) especially when so many celebrities right now are being accused of heinous things. it’s nice to see somebody who’s not evil in the media.

and on top of that, he’s always so willing to talk about his emotions. he’s always extremely open and honest with the audience, even when it means being vulnerable. I feel like people don’t give him credit for how much trust he has built with the audience he has. like, if anyone were to betray their audience, i genuinely believe that ryan would be the LAST person to do so. like i really don’t think he has a evil bone in his body.

i also think he’s so smart and creative and talented. every now and then he’ll say something and I’m just like “wow you are so smart. i hate that people call you dumb all the time because of ur beliefs 😭” like he’s just so well spoken and simply fucking intelligent and it’s really such a shame that some people have labeled him the way that they have. like guys please he’s not dumb he just believes in ghosts and aliens okay 😔🙏 BELIEVE ME 😭

also, he’s SO talented. when you think about it, he started up unsolved, one of the most popular shows buzzfeed has ever had, completely by himself. like, he came up with the idea and followed through with it and MADE IT a REALITY!!!! HE DESERVES SO MUCH CREDIT LIKE HE CREATED THE SHOW OMFG IM SO PROUD OF HIM AHHHHH :))) sweet baby ryan who was just trying to make it in the entertainment industry, and was so scared he would fail, will forever have all my love :)

and also like?!? i think he’s so cool?!?! like, what else am i supposed to think about a man who literally was a slider and made his own halloween mazes out of pvc that were SO BIG cops had to regulate them?!? a man who is a huge movie head and knows everything about horror films?!? a man who knows encyclopedic knowledge about THEME PARKS LIKE OMG. i’m literally in love with him what the FUCK. like he literally sounds like the gentle sporty-but-also-secretly-nerdy love interest in a coming of age film that’s best friends with the mc 😭

LIKE HE EVEN DRESSES COOL. ALL THE TIME HE SAYS HE HAS NO STYLE BUT LIKE WTF HE LITERALLY DRESSES SO CUTE LIKE WHAT?!?! HIS BUTTON UPS?!! HIS HORROR TEES?!? HIS FUCKIN BEANIES?!?!??!?? LIKE DONT PMOOO!!!

like i don’t know what to say, he’s just so cozy boyfriend coded idk i just love him so bad :( <3

[kingwuko]

I have something on my mind...

How come wu thought Mako was raised by "a gang of cops in the woods"?

I really remember that and it makes me laugh so hard.

Honestly Mako guided wu very well for his future.

LMAO it's a funny scene!!

I really really love remembrances, you guys. It's top tier wuko content, it's got amazing korrasami crumbs, it's got those hilarious scenes where Varrick is rewriting all the events of the previous three books to make a more interesting story ("Never let the truth get in the way of a good story, kid!")

As for that specific moment in the episode and why Wu said it? Well the simple answer is that Remembrances is a clip episode and they needed to set up a scenario for Mako to talk about the last three seasons of the show lol. But the in-universe reason I am very happy to overanalyze...

Mako: Look at you! You're so weak, "Wu down" is your catchphrase. Wu: I know, I'm a wimp. But it's not my fault, I was born that way! I'm not like you Mako, I wasn't raised by a pack of cops in the woods. Mako: You don't know anything about me, do you?

The sense I get from this exchange is that Wu puts Mako up on a pedestal of what he considers peak strength and masculinity. Before remembrances, I really think Wu was star struck by Mako being a hero cop, and hardcore crushing on the idea of Mako, rather than Mako as a real person.

Up until that point, Wu sees Mako the same way he did when he saw Mako in the paper. He saw someone handsome and cool under fire and good at his job as a police officer. And he was totally okay with that. He really likes this fantasy Mako he built up in his head, and nothing Mako has done so far has really ruined that fantasy! I feel like the first time Mako actually spoke his mind to Wu and dropped the professional facade of the hero-cop-turned-security-officer was when Wu had his meltdown at the mall.

After that, I think the lines got blurred between them. Wu was supposed to be king, but he wasn't, not really. Mako was supposed to continue working for him in Ba Sing Se, but they weren't going anywhere, so they were kind of in this weird limbo. Mako finally spoke up about Wu not having his people's best interest at heart, but tried to put the wall of professionalism back up. He brought Wu along to have lunch with Korra and Asami, but then he let his personal feelings about Korra and Asami leaving him out cloud his judgement which resulted in Wu getting kidnapped.

And then Wu MOVED IN WITH MAKO'S FAMILY. I think that REALLY blurred the lines. And Mako, no doubt feeling guilt and shame over the fact that he fucked up his job, decided to get proactive and try and teach Wu self defense. And then Grandma Yin starts coddling Wu, feeding into Wu's feelings of being weak while Mako is clearly super strong and capable and good at his job, and it's easy to see why Wu would think Mako had always been that way, because for so long, Mako had been professional and distant and allowed Wu's fantasy image of him as a hero cop to remain in place.

So basically, I feel like the conversation in remembrances was a long time coming. Wu needed that fantasy image of Mako shattered so he could see Mako for who he really is: messy, imperfect, kind of dorky, and prone to making big mistakes in his relationships. And Mako needed to finally drop the professionalism that had been crumbling since the coronation and just be honest with Wu and let the chips fall where they may...

And I really like the conclusion, as silly as it might seem:

Wu: Wow! That story is amazing and I really learned something! Mako: You did? Good. Wu: Yeah! I learned that I really didn't know anything about you! Crazy! Also, I realized that ladies are complicated. No offense, Grandma.

Hear me out. Wu's takeaway from Mako rehashing his messy dating history is that he didn't know anything about Mako! I feel like this is a breakthrough where Wu realizes he didn't know enough about Mako. He realizes that's because he never asked, because some people don't just volunteer information about themselves-I think they had more conversations after this where Mako revealed more and more about himself, little-by-little. And Wu still likes Mako, and I think this is the breakthrough for them to actually build a real understanding and relationship. Wu figured out that Mako wasn't just a super cool guy raised to be a hero cop. And Mako learns Wu still likes him even after learning that he's made lots of mistakes.

I'm totally normal about remembrances, guys.

[sennenrings]

my (perhaps controversial) marauders sexuality headcanons

remus: I think remus is bi if only to cover for his canon feels for tonks. It probably takes him a long time to come to terms with the fact that he likes men because he so obviously likes women and you clearly can't like both, but once he discovers what bisexuality is he's cool with it. And I think he has a preference for men. Man or woman though, you have to come onto him. I can't see remus putting himself out there at all, any kind of relationship he has is set up by james.

sirius: sirius is gay and I truly believe that. His gay awakening was James but he kinda brushes that off as just really close friendship. And I think it is just really close friendship, he doesn't have any sexual feelings for James. So he'll date and sleep with a lot of women, always wondering why it doesn't feel right. But eventually he'll figure out that he's gay, have a pep talk with James, and then go back to his usual charming, confident self. He definitely wouldn't flaunt it, it's still the 70s, but he would be out to his friends and at some point stops publicly dating women.

in the case of wolfstar I prefer it when remus is the one having a sexuality crisis. I appreciate when it's sirius but I just think out of the two of them, sirius would be more confident in his sexuality.

james: he's straight to me im so sorry. HOWEVER he doesn't think it's gay to kiss the homies so they were kissing in that dorm room ALL the time. He would also cuddle with everyone after the full moon, it's their tradition. But anyway I think he really is only attracted to women and he's very secure in his masculinity.

peter: he's also straight to me but he DOES think it's gay to kiss the homies and he would be homophobic about it for a week until james and sirius peer pressured him and told him it wasn't actually gay. And during the post full moon cuddling he prefers to stay as a rat because that definitely means it isn't gay. But sometimes he'll cuddle in his human form just for fun. He definitely gets less homophobic over the years. Unlike james though he isn't as secure in his masculinity so when they're around other people he really tries to make himself seem as straight as possible.

lily: I don't really see her as anything but straight. But she would have very close relationships with her female friends. I also think that she would be open to trying anything once and would have sex with a woman and come out of it being like "that was fun but I'm definitely straight"

marlene: she is a mega lesbian. I think her awakening would be her dorm mates gossiping about how hot sirius is and marlene is totally repulsed. She would still date exactly one man before she actually came to terms with it though. After that, I think marlene is a deeply private person, and it's harder for women to be gay, so I don't think she's as confident in her sexuality as someone like sirius.

mary: I think she's bi with a preference for women. But I think she would repress that side of her for a number of reasons and would exclusively date men until she's like, 24 or something. Mary wouldn't let the repression affect her friendships with women though and I think she would feel closer to her friends than to any man.

regulus: I pretty much exclusively see him as straight. If he was bi or gay I think he would repress that side of himself because he knows that he has to carry on the Black family name and make an heir. If he had lived long enough I think he would have married some random pure blood woman, whoever he thought would appease his family. To think more positively, I think regulus could genuinely develop a good friendship with a nice (probably Slytherin) girl and be fine with marrying her and have a decently fulfilling life.

[ersatz-colubridae-888]

i don't remember if you ever mentioned it before and i apologize if you have but what are your opinions on azzy boy........i like to view him as the sort of misunderstood aggressive protector of the system who also plays a significant role in shaping it to what it is now. he causes a lot of noise simply because its all he knows, yet the more isaac tries to bury him inside he only festers more, his desire for more power and control over their caregivers and instinct to keep the system safe at all costs from the outside world causes him to be viewed as more rambunctious and rebellious, the one who yells the loudest and starts trouble and destruction at every turn, both internally and externally.

BUDDY IN MY INBOX!!! (SMILES LIKE A CHIMP) (IS HAPPY)

honestly i haven't really thought a whole lot about azazel himself - which i see now is definitely a crime! your readings as he relates to the system are super interesting, and i really enjoy the way you portray his seemingly "evil" personality as justified aggression from his desires to protect the system born from such a hostile environment.

i want to particularly highlight the "misunderstood" aspect of your reading of azazel. a lot of parts of azazel, especially tainted azazel, never stood out to me as aggressive, but i definitely think they would be seen as such by others. bat wings, devil horns, bright red eyes and dark black skin - he was simply born demonic, born the wrong way. it's always seemed to me to be an association rooted in his very existence, and something that azazel suffers for.

broken wings and another broken horn, tainted azazel is punished and beaten for his very existence and not anything he's truly done, something that isaac no doubt endures in his real life. no matter what azazel does, no matter how virtuous he attempts to act (angel deals, confessionals, or sacrifice rooms), he was simply born wrong. tainted azazel seems to be the world's attempt to rectify this "injustice", and anything that could possibly be harmful is violently stripped from him. his autonomy is fully removed, an action that is seen a lot in the binding of isaac.

i completely see how azazel is aggressive in some rights - Azazel's Rage and Soul of Azazel certainly aren't completely innocent or passive associations for him. i would definitely agree that it is out of self defense, though, and it seems similar to a sort of cornered prey-like fight-or-flight defense of what little personhood remains for him.

in the same vein of system protectors, samson could also fit that role pretty well. he seems to be a manifestation of an idea of hyper-masculinity that isaac feels he must accomplish, and this sense of fake security and physical toughness prevents himself from being hurt by others. i could elaborate on this later maybe if anyone's super curious but that's the basic gist of my thoughts on samson.

i really enjoy that your ideas of the characters seem to be at least partially aware of their systemhood (acknowledging each other and their relationship, at least) because i had personally never really thought to do that. i like to imagine that isaac's system, at least at the time of the game, is still extremely confused and disjointed that the identities themselves have little sense of self or distinction from the host. the way you imagine them as being aware of their togetherness is really cool and interesting, and i really appreciate getting to see that sort of perspective! needless to say i like it a lot. thank you so much for sharing your stuff and popping in here to ask about azazel :D

(ALSO I ALMOST FORGOT TO MENTION - THE WAY YOU DRAW HIM IS SUPER CUTE!!! HE LOOKS SO AWESOME AND YOUR DESIGN IS VERY UNIQUE AND COOL :D this drawing so awesome)

[dioslesbianwife]

hiii ^_^ i was hoping you could maybe write a sadist funny valentine x ftm bratty sub masochist reader ? i love your page :3 thank u hehe

hii, sure and no prob, hope you enjoy and ty for requesting <333

You're the worst kind of temptation for Funny Valentine.

You walk around knowing exactly what buttons to push.

You bat your lashes, run your mouth, tease him with comments like:

“Wow, Mr. President, is your ego always that big? Or are you just happy to see me?”

He doesn’t smile. He smirks. The kind of smile that means: “Oh, you’re gonna regret that.”

And you always do. But you keep doing it anyway.

Funny’s sadism is precise. Controlled. 

He’s not the kind to lose control. No, no- he makes you lose it.

His punishments are creative. You sass him?

He makes you beg for it while tied to a chair with your legs spread and untouched for hours.

You disobey? He ruins you, then leaves you on his desk dripping and overstimmed while he writes government documents like you’re not even there.

“Be still. If another drop hits my floor, I’ll leave you here all night.”

You call him "sir" to be a smartass.

And he lets you…

Until he grabs your chin and forces you to look him in the eyes:

“No, sweetheart. You call me Mr. President. And you say it with respect.”

If you moan it? Bonus points.

If you roll your eyes while saying it?

Oh you better brace yourself.

You love pain. He loves giving it.

He slaps you. Hard. Chest, thighs, ass, even your mouth if you’re mouthy enough. 

He gets off on the tears in your eyes. The way your lip trembles. The way your hips still buck up for more.

He’ll spit on you, tug your hair, mark you up and whisper:

“Look at that. You wanted this. My pretty little punching bag.”

He dresses immaculate. Always in control.

Hair perfect, gloves spotless, scent clean and rich.

It pisses you off. You want to ruin him. Mess him up.

So you act out- bite, scratch, grind shamelessly.

And he lets you try…

Until he pins you down, still perfectly dressed, and says:

“You think you’re the one causing chaos here?”

“I let you act out, so I have an excuse to break you. Don’t forget that, boy.”

He’s possessive in a mean, national-security way.

You belong to him. And he makes that clear.

You're not allowed to cum unless he says.

You don’t get to choose when you’re done. He decides when you’ve learned your lesson.

He knows you’re a boy. His boy.

He says “good boy” in that low, firm voice that makes your stomach flip.

He calls you his “darling gentleman” mockingly, especially while ruining you:

“What would the American public think if they saw their president making such a mess of a young man like you?”

He worships your masculinity even while degrading you. He makes you feel like a man by handling you like one- rough and unrelenting.

The aftercare is minimal but deliberate: a glass of water, a hand on your chest, a cool cloth, and:

“You did well. For a loudmouthed brat, you take your punishments like a champ.”

[merrybloomwrites]

Harryween

Summary: Harry dons a Dorothy costume for Harryween and reader thinks he's never looked better.

Warnings: Smut, p-in-v sex

AN: My fyp was full of Harry in his Dorothy costume this morning so I decided to write the filthiest thing I've ever written at 6a.m. Enjoy!

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In the time that you and Harry have been together you’ve seen him wear hundreds of different outfits. From the sweats he relaxes in at home to the fancy clothes he puts on for events and his concerts, everything looks good on him.

But nothing could have prepared you for October 30, 2021. 

You’ve been to plenty of Harry’s shows, and while you sometimes stay backstage while he gets dressed, more often than not you leave before that so you can be surprised by his attire just like everyone else. This has led to a fair number of times where you’ve had to quickly calm yourself to keep your jaw from literally dropping. 

But tonight. Harryween night one. This is by far the hardest night to keep your cool. The second Harry skips on stage in his Dorothy costume everything else fades away. You’re so focused on watching him that you don’t even hear the first song or the screaming fans around you. All that exists is Harry. Harry in that little dress with the cute tights and delicate bloomers. Harry with his hair in a bow and blush on his cheeks. Your thoughts are absolutely sinful. And they stay that way. 

Normally you have a pretty good grasp on yourself. Even when your boyfriend is literally hip thrusting and sliding his hands down his toned body on stage, you can get your mind out of the gutter. But not tonight. No matter how hard you try, nothing is helping to get rid of the now persistent ache in your belly. Because the show is more than halfway over, and you’ve been turned on the entire time to the point that it’s becoming painful. There’s nothing you can do to try and ease the tension and you feel like you’re putting on just as much of a show as Harry is in order to hide your dirty thoughts. 

All through the show your mind was playing through different scenarios of what to do when you get him alone in your hotel suite. At first you thought this might be a night to pull out your strap on and harness. You imagine how pretty he’d look under you, his skirt hiked up as you slide into him over and over.  You think of the face he’ll make when you find that special spot, how his chest will turn as pink as his cheeks. 

Even though his outfit was inherently “feminine” he had never before looked so manly, so in tune with his masculine side. That was the moment you realized you needed him inside of you; needed him as hard and as deep as possible. Unfortunately, this realization was during the third song of the night and you knew you’d be suffering in want for well over an hour. 

You’re practically weak in the knees by the time the intro to Kiwi starts, and the second the last note is played you rush to the car that’s waiting for you and Harry. 

You make it there a minute before he does and the anticipation of him joining you in the enclosed space dressed the way he’s dressed has you even more turned on. 

He slides in the backseat next to you. And it’s torture. Because there’s still the driver and security guard in the front seats and now you can see Harry up close, and he looks even better than you thought. In addition to the makeup, he has a post-show glow and you find yourself taking deep breaths to calm your racing heart. 

“You alright? Your cheeks are as pink as mine.” Harry’s sudden words startle you out of your daydreams and into reality. 

You look into his eyes and his concerned face immediately turns into a knowing smirk. He can’t say anything he wants to, not with company in the front of the car, but he can’t pass up an opportunity to tease you. He slides a hand to your thigh under your poofy skirt and slowly drags it up. When he reaches your center he ghosts his fingertips over your panties. He doesn’t even need to slip inside of them or put any pressure to feel how wet you are. They’re absolutely drenched. You’re dripping with arousal, probably have been for nearly two hours. The realization sends Harry blood south, and he’s grateful that all his layers should hide his growing erection.

The rest of the car ride, as well as the time in the elevator, is charged with sexual tension. Finally, you’re in the privacy of your hotel suite. Before you even get to the bedroom you’re on him, desperately pressing kisses to his lips. He follows your lead for a moment before pulling back, deciding that he still wants to tease you a bit. It’s been a while since you were so worked up and he loves to see you this way, to know the effect he has on you.

You try to pull him in for a deep kiss but he’s only allowing small pecks. You finally groan in frustration, and he has the nerve to ask you what’s wrong. His voice indicates he knows exactly what he’s doing, and part of you wants to slap him for being such a tease. But a bigger part of you just wants to do whatever it takes to get him into bed. So you refrain from violence.

“Please,” you say, not above begging at this point.

“Please what?” he asks, even though the flush of your cheeks and fully dilated pupils alone are enough to tell him what you want.

“I need you.”

“Ah, so you’re a needy little thing tonight huh? What’s got you feeling this way?”

“You, Harry.”

“Hmm, I think it’s something else. What specifically has you so worked up?”

You roll your eyes at this, how he keeps asking questions he knows the answers to just to tease you and delay giving you what you really want. You play along, hoping that it will speed up this process.

“It’s this outfit, okay? The dress and the bloomers and the tights and the makeup and the hair and all of it! Not sure what it says about me that you in a dress is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, but fuck, this is literally the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. And I’ve been turned on since the second you stepped on stage and it’s honestly becoming painful at this point so can you please, please, fuck me? And don’t act like you’re not horny too, cause your dick’s obviously hard enough to tent that skirt even with the layers underneath.”

After that outburst Harry just stares at you for a moment while you catch your breath.

“Yea, you’re not wrong,” he says simply with a shrug before giving in. He lifts you over his shoulder and carries you to the bedroom.

He lays you down on the bed and crashes his lips into yours. Your mouth immediately opens as you let out a satisfied moan, happy to finally be connected to him. His tongue slides against yours as his hands roam your torso. You slip your hands into his hair, careful not to mess up his bow or smudge his makeup. He helps you out of your outfit, lips never straying too far as he sponges kisses onto each bit of skin he reveals.

You’re loving every second of this, but your body is begging for more.

“Please, Harry, I’m so empty. I need you.”

He can’t pretend like your words don’t drive him absolutely wild, and he rushes to slide off his bloomers, tights, and underwear. He sees you pout and says, “Lovie, I can’t fuck you with three layers of clothes covering my dick.” Even as aroused as he is, he can’t help but be endeared by the cute, disappointed look on your face.

You know he’s right and grudgingly reply, “Fine. But the dress stays on.”

“Of course the dress stays on,” he agrees before crashing his lips back to yours. Now free of his undergarments, he lines his cock up with your dripping entrance. You cry out in relief as he slides into you. Your eyes slam shut with the intensity of finally getting what you want, but once you realize what you’ve done you open them again. You don’t want to miss a moment of this.

Harry looks downright ethereal above you. He’s practically glowing and his muscled arms and chest peaking out beneath the dress are driving you wild. The skirt billows between you both with every thrust, tickling your belly in a new sensation that’s somehow adding to the pleasure.

He’s setting a fast pace, one that’s normal for you both, but tonight you want more. You want him to completely let go.

“Harder,” you say, sounding nearly breathless already.

Harry gives you a look before asking, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure, please, go harder,” you say more firmly this time.

His mouth meets yours again in a searing kiss and he listens to you, pounding into you harder and faster that he ever has before. There’s a second where you wonder why you’ve been holding back all this time, but after a few thrusts you are no longer capable of such deep thinking. All you know is Harry, his mouth and tongue on yours, his cock slamming into you in a way that has your mind whiting out. He knows you’re close and goes to slide his fingers against your clit. For a moment he has trouble getting under his dress but finally hits his target.

It only takes another minute before you come so hard that you’re seeing stars. Your back arches and mouth opens in a silent scream. Harry presses kisses to your face, neck, chest, anywhere he can find as he continues to trust into you chasing his own end. You’re coming down from your high, riding out the aftershocks when Harry reaches his orgasm. You watch as his eyes, so delicate with his makeup, slam shut, and his pretty pick lips drop open. More pleasant shocks roll through your body as you feel him emptying inside of you.

You both catch your breath before Harry slides out of you. Even though he’s gentle you still hiss at the slight discomfort.

“I’m so sorry, did I go too hard?” he asks.

You smile and shake your head, saying “No, baby, that was perfect. You were perfect. Exactly what I wanted.” He smiles in reply, pressing a simple kiss to your forehead before he gets out of bed. He reaches a hand towards you and says, “Shower with me?” Even though you just want to fall asleep, you can’t say no to that invitation.

You follow him to the bathroom, and he turns the shower on before taking the clip out of his hair. He sees you pouting again and doesn’t need to ask what the problem is. “I can’t live in this dress forever,” he tells you with a laugh.

“I know. That’s probably a good thing. Don’t think we’d ever get anything done if you looked like this all the time. Can I help you take it off?”

“Of course, baby,” he replies.

After showering, you’re laying together in bed. Harry plugs his phone into the charger and sees that it’s after midnight.

“Happy Halloween lovie,” he says, and you wish him the same.

A few minutes later Harry’s snoring gently beside you and you realize that there’s another show the next night. You fall asleep praying he doesn’t wear another dress; you’re almost positive you wouldn’t survive if he did.   

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Thank you for reading!

[neonzparkoflife]

Thought i'd explain my transmasc kenny hc cuz i dont really see it a lot man but it really makes sense! 🏳️‍⚧️

-from experience I know trans men love talking about their dicks 🔥 that totally exist 🔥 kenny's totally the type to make lotsa dick jokes out of everything like so much it's lowkey annoying like shut the fuck up

-he hides his face and voice (even if his speech is clear as mysterion) which is really typical of trans people due to dysphoria. I remember when I was 9 I would go to school in my stepdad's clothes even though they were like a million sizes too big

-the princess kenny persona. It reminds me a lot of how transmasc people will often embrace their femininity because of transphobia (especially at home) making it seem like they can only exist with a certain level of masculinity/femininity to be loved. I personally identify a lot with Princess Kenny because of this! To me, the whole thing just seemed like a metaphor for trans people (although a lot of people also interpret this as a transfem thing which is cool too!)

-alternatively mysterion is a complete and total rejection of this. It's becoming so masculine that you adhere to toxic standards of it to please others. It's another thing that I, as a transmasc person, really relate to, so I tend to interpret it that way!

-this one's a little niche but there's a little theory I had when I returned to school I like to refer to as A Million Little Deaths, basically referring to change and experiences "killing" different parts of us as new ones grow every second. Seeing a character go through this in a physical manner made me relate to him

-i also went through a period of being "highly sexually charged" around middle school so I tend to interpret the kenny sex obsession as a way for him to uphold toxic body standards for himself and his appearance as a "man". A young exposure like this also contributes to misogyny, internalized and such. This is partly why I don't specify him as a trans MAN or any specific gender, because it's difficult to tell which parts of MY identity are internalized misogyny and which parts are how I really feel. Since I am similar to him I think he might go through this as well.

-he's also just like me fr and im so trans it could kill a man! You guys remember the ep where he didn't wanna go to shop class so he took home ec? Reminds me a lot of the time when my weights teacher said the boys had to go run and I conveniently became a girl :3

Now for the Butters/Marj explanation (my favorite)

-okay so she's transfem and genderfluid to me right off the bat and my explanation has barely anything to do with canon. Of course there is the marj ep but I feel like that was more of an awakening.

-lots of bad things have happened to Butters throughout the show, but we also have Vic. This made me start thinking about character development and change and yada yada yada. When Butters presents more masculine, they behave a little more fearfully and carefully around others because that's who they've always been. When Marjorine is presenting more feminine, she is more outgoing and confident, but just barely because im not completely changing the character yk.

-the switch between Butters and Marjorine is kind of akin to how trans people get their spark back when they can finally present the way they want to, and the identity as Marjorine is a way for Butters to kind of experiment and express this. It's also a way for him to separate himself from things that have happened with a new name and face (not a good thing to do, though!)

-eventually, when Butters begins to process this trauma, he thinks that both of these names shouldn't really exist. It's not who she is. When Butters becomes Vic it's almost like a compound of these two lives and they can handle it now because they're more secure with themself

-Vic is also the perfect gender neutral name with both a masculine and feminine alternative (Victor and Victoria/Vicky). Basically genderfluidity final boss yk. Also transfems with facial hair big yippee from me! Yay!

-so to recap it IS kind of more of a metaphor thing but im not a fucking pussy so the character is ACTUALLY trans because trans people deserve representation and shit. So many people hate the Marjorine headcanon because "Butters didn't like being Marjorine" but did you ever consider what transphobia has done to trans people? I know the episode isn't out here screaming "HEY! TRANS RIGHTS!" of course but it's a really good depiction of how awfully trans people are treated. Nobody WANTS to be trans, it's just how they are and they can't help it and I feel like this character is a good depiction of how transphobia affects people in general yk? Okay sorry i got sappy blehh XP

[overdressedcarp]

Aventurine, Dr. Ratio, and Ruan Mei for the character ask! (Love ur Aventio fic btw).

Thank you for the ask! I had fun doing these. (Also I'm glad you're enjoying the fic! I am sitting in my authorial hobbit hole with a big smile on my face.)

Aventurine

Clarifications (yellow boxes):

I don't see as many bad Aventurine takes as I do for Ratio, but I do think his rough edges often get watered down in a way that either justifies or ignores his canonical flaws. So "they got done dirty by fans" and "wow! they are a horrible person" both get soft nods because I think his character deserves to be both sympathetic and kind of an ass sometimes. (The other issue I see is people acting like he's vulnerable and helpless, which is just. fundamentally not true? He's not as secure in himself as he pretends to be, but he is a ruthlessly competent strategist, and he knows how to read people and give them what they want to see. He's a member of the Ten Stonehearts for a reason.)

"If they were real I would be afraid of them" alright let me explain. The 2.1 story did a masterful job of humanizing Aventurine, but his first impressions in 2.0 were fine-tuned to be unnerving, and it was really effective for me as a player. For a while I couldn't articulate why it made me uncomfortable, but @starcurtain did a great analysis on female influence in Aventurine's life, which touched on how his early interactions with the Trailblazer are designed to be intimidating and off-putting in a way that channels the sort of masculine dominance Aventurine has historically experienced at the hands of other men. Suffice to say: if it served his plans for me to be afraid of him, he knows how to do it, and it would work.

Also I forgot to mark "why do they look like that" on the bingo but I do think Hoyo should have given him more melanin considering how deeply Romani-coded his culture is. Everything else about his design slaps though.

Ratio

Clarifications:

"Wasted potential" is subjective because I've loved every moment we've gotten of Ratio onscreen, but damn do I want the game to delve deeper into his backstory and his dynamics with other characters (I'm still sad that so far Aventurine is the only character that has a voice line about him).

"Deeper than they seem" and "not as deep as they seem" exist in a paradoxical state for me because I do think some folks stop at the surface reading of "arrogant asshole" when he's got way more going on in his character stories and his actions in canon... but I also think some people err on the side of taking him too seriously, in a way that likewise takes something away from his character. Like, this is the guy who plays chess with himself and trash-talks from both sides of the table like a goddamn cartoon character. He owns at least one rubber duck and takes a bath with it every day. He likes all of Aventurine's social media posts and replies "Heh." to anything he finds vaguely amusing. This is not a serious man.

"Why do they look like that" okay I need to clarify that this is not a criticism. I love Ratio's design. The neoclassical vibes are impeccable. But it's also extra in a way that I feel morally obligated to call out, considering how much he rags on Aventurine for dressing like a peacock. Sir, you walk around in robes and sandals with an alabaster bust on your head; you have no room to talk about subtle fashion choices.

Ruan Mei

Clarifications:

Ruan Mei gets both "they are so cool looking" and "why do they look like that" because I love the theory behind her design (the DNA elements, the embroidery and floral imagery, the qipao paired with the pearl necklace) but she also has the unfortunate distinction of being a female character in a Hoyoverse game, so the more unique details fall prey to the homogenizing force of the male gaze.

Another case of "they got done dirty by fans" and "wow! they are a terrible person" existing in tandem, but in Ruan Mei's case I think some people reduce her down to her worst qualities without acknowledging the more complex aspects of her character. Her unchecked pursuit of knowledge leads to her doing Objectively Bad Things, but I don't think it's a fair (or particularly interesting) reading to portray her as heartless.

I thought about marking "wasted potential" because imo 1.6 wasn't nearly enough to delve into Everything Going on with This Woman, but it seems like they're setting up something for a future patch, so I'm content to wait and see what the writers have planned. I'm really excited to find out what she's doing with those leviathan fossils and Tingyun's wrecked ship.

Link to the character bingo template

[ciaossu-imagines]

Morinozuka Takashi realizing he’s in love

Of course, anon dear! Thank you for sending in this request and I hope you’ll enjoy the headcanons 😊

A lot of people would assume, given his quiet, reserved, stoic nature and how much of himself he devotes to other people, that Mori would be someone that isn’t that in touch with his own emotions. Or they might assume that, even if he feels a lot of things, that he’s someone who might get mired down in a lot of toxic masculinity to keep up the outside appearance he has of someone cool, masculine, and dignified.

While it’s somewhat reasonable that other’s might make those assumptions about him, the fact of the matter is that those assumptions couldn’t be further from the reality of the situation.

Mori is a man who is not only able to observant to other’s situations and behaviours, and attuned into their emotions, he’s someone who is quite in touch with his own emotions. He’s pretty able to identify what he’s feeling, he allows himself to feel his emotions, and he can control them well enough.

Mori is going to realize that he’s attracted to someone early on. However, he’s not rushing into anything based on just attraction. He’s not someone who moves fast, based off whims and emotions. Mori is slow and steady, both in his emotions, how he acts on those emotions, and just in how he lives his life in general.

He will make efforts, once he recognizes the attraction, to spend more time around the person. He observes them, learns about them, and while he doesn’t talk much, he does make an effort, as best as he can, to start conversations with them. He genuinely is interested in getting to know them, to learn more about them, to see what kind of person they truly are. Half of it is the thrill of being around someone he is feeling that magnetic attraction to, the rush of feel-good hormones that surge through him in their presence, but he also has the ulterior motive of wanting to learn if the person he’s attracted is someone he can continue to be attracted to.

He’s a little picky, honestly, in the people he truly falls for. Just attraction is not enough for Mori. For him to go from attraction to a serious, committed relationship to then truly falling in love with a person, they need to be someone he connects with on a deeper emotional and spiritual level. They need to have good morals, they need to be kind, they need to match up with him in as many ways as is needed before he will fall in love like that.

When it comes time to confess his love to them, Mori’s partner will likely realize it before he even tells them. It won’t be a surprise because they’ll have gotten used to his presence and habits, which will have changed in small ways in the days leading up to when Mori has decided to officially say it.

He wants the occasion to be special, after all, so he has been planning something special.

Just to make it clear – Mori is not going to say those three special words to someone he has not been dating for a long time, long enough to actually feel secure and confident that what he is feeling is genuinely and truly love.

If he wants to confess to someone before that, in an effort to get into a relationship with them, he’s likely to choose other words, telling the person that he cares deeply about them, that they’re special to him, or things along those lines.