#but if we’re friends I’d like to actually feel like it

[orleans-jester]

“I am feeling pretty jolly,” Figaro admitted. Seeing their father was bittersweet but there was a lot of good to take away from that. He was watching over them. And he was proud. The ghosts of their Merry Men friends stuck around. There wasn’t much reason to not be jolly.

“I think I’d make a sick Larry,” Figaro hummed as they careened the bus down the mountain road. “Hey Iorek, you wanna be Gary?”

The bear let out a sound that sounded half-whine, half yawn. Figaro looked over their shoulder at him.

“Mrs. Puff? You want to be Mrs goddamn Puff?” They said, with wide eyes. “Damn. I didn’t know you wanted to go for sex appeal. Let’s fuckin do it.”

They nodded, not having much of an opinion either way of whether Livvy was still going to be active in their lives or not. “Hey, she’s alive though, that’s something,” They said. Not a lot of people were these days. “So there’s a chance that you’ll be able to see her again.”

Looking on the bright side wasn’t always their forte but when it came to Will? Goddamn, they really wanted him to be happy. Even if it was with someone like Livvy. That girl had made him smile, while also being frustrating at the same time. Messy - but at least he was showing his teeth.

“You’re right about that, I miss meeting people,” Figaro said, eyes on the road, their voice actually being serious. “Nothing against our friends obviously but - yeah. Variety in the spice of life and we’re not getting that. I’m growing sick of paprika, I want some chile.”

They didn’t mean this romantically, obviously, but they were a social being. There was nothing shy about Figaro. They’d just pop in and make themselves at home, that’s how they made a lot of their friends. And either they gott rejected, or they were invited in as if they had always been there. Meeting Flotsam, as if they had been instant best friends the moment that they met. The high school cafeteria table where they sat, despite not really talking to Arthur and Lance, boom, as if they had been sitting together since kindergarden. And then inviting Willem over to live with them despite only having spoken for a couple of days. They tested that chemistry with a lot of people. And now there wasn’t anyone to pop up on.

Figaro agreed though. Willem did need a certain kind of chaos in his life. “Maybe she’ll surprise ya one day,” They offered. Granted, it seemed HIGHLY unlikely that Delta was ever going to invite in someone like Livvy, a human that didn’t offer that much to her at all. Not without killing her or something similar. But regardless. Stranger things have happened.

They chuckled as they heard Willem sing and joined in with the tune. “-in the closet, that’s Hansel, he’s a bit shy so don’t scream too much!”

They parked up by the playground and looked out the windshield at the building. This area didn’t get much upkeep in Feral. Willem was the only one who really ever came to it. Old blood - once a bright red but now a brick-brown, blended into the walls, and a few bodies still lay around, decomposing. Figaro grabbed the Dragon-Fruit Little Tree air freshener from the mirror and wrapped it around their wrist. “Man, I hate the smell of the dead in the morning,” They sighed.

The bodies didn’t smell too much. It was mostly just bones and a bit of ooze. Being left out in the elements like the sun and the rain definitely had their effects. But they took a big whiff of the air freshener before daring to step outside.

It was still dark, the sky only lightening slightly, as they approached the building. It seemed so desolate. It didn’t need the Frank and Delta treatment to be spooky. “Why am I getting REC vibes? Quarantine? I wish I had a machete.”

That’s when they spotted something glistening. “Oh hey, a dead cop. Oooooh, hey, a dead cop’s gun!” They said, going towards it and took it out of the corpse’s fingerbones. “Now we’re going Resident Evil, baby. Let’s go hang out with some cool dolls.”

He even obliged. "Oh person, my person. I love you, my person. Oh jolly person." He laughed as he watched Smalls literally bounce their way back to the bus because of course they would.

Maybe Willem wasn't completely disappointed either that he wasn't going to visit the dolls alone. It had always been an alone activity and it felt nice to get to share that. Maybe it wouldn't feel so sad this way? It always felt sad even though the dolls themselves made him happy. Willem liked their sappy side. It made him feel less alien like his feelings were out of place. He was going to soak it up while the mood was there.

"You and that SpongeBob." He laughed remembering some swimwear they once wore on vacation as he finished up rubbing baby wipes on his face. Good times. "Larry's all yours."

He kept looking up into the mirror worried he'd missed something but finally settled back into his seat for the ride. A casual glance up here or there would prove he still had it in his sort-slightly vain pirate head anyway.

"Okay cool...and riiiiiight." The memory actually made him laugh. "Me either." He was hardly on Livy's radar until he tried to be. He didn't even want to be at first.

So, he'd toss out a "turn here" and a "right" or "go left at the stop" off and on just in case Figaro wasn't sure along the way.

Still, in came a question that maybe he should have been ready for but wasn't.

"Nah. Not since I last mentioned...." His voice hung like he wanted to say more. It came out sadder than he meant for it to. He didn't mean to be so transparent.

It was a simple question with a simple answer. Sure. But it was easy to jump to the next questions. Did he want to hear from her? Did his tone answer that question without having to ask it of himself? Did he still know it was probably for the better? Yeah. Did he miss her anyway? Fuck yeah.

So, was he going to pirate up and admit it even though he didn't have to?

"Aye, I miss her. I really messed that one up, Smalls. I know she was a prat but fuck it all. Who's not?"

To ward off his uncomfortable feeling he looked in the mirror again and messed with his hair. Her prattiness just came so close to aligning so perfectly with his it was hard not to think about it when nothing else filled the void.

"Or maybe I'm just lonely? I don't know. Because there's just so many people in Feral to meet." He said sarcastically. "Prattiness is better than loneliness? I admit I was feeling pretty shitty till Geppetto showed up."

He was surrounded by personalities in Funkytown so obviously it was romantic connection, a heart string he longed for.

"Yes, I know we can leave now." He interjected as if cutting off the first obvious he could think of to his own argument. "But my dolls. My work. I don't know. I need- I need- I need a homebody who likes adventures too. Somebody who gets it. I still miss her chaos. I'm a person who needs a certain amount of chaos, Smalls."

He shrugged because he didn't know how to explain that was the one thing he couldn't quite get through to Livy not that Smalls even asked for any of this. Hell, he couldn't even manage to get it through Piper's head. No one took him seriously. Crazy he could handle. A shady past he could handle. He was down for colorful. Heck, that's what he wanted just not at the expense of his dolls. Someone had to just get it. Get Funkytown. How to find that person? He wasn't sure. Maybe they didn't exist. Maybe he wasn't meant to be taken seriously and that thought just broke his heart as they drove.

He pointed at a stop sign. "To the left."

He half laughed when he realized what he said and said it a couple more times like the song, "To the left, to the left." Then went- "No-no. Not left there. I was just singing." Then had to start laughing.

"It's that complex up there. The building sort of by the playground."

[bokutosbabe]

Hi, I’m here for the “more than a married couple” event. I’m choosing Barou and this combination: 🍑🍰. Also, not sure if your works are gn!reader by default, but if you’re down with it, I’d like to request that reader be FTM here. Thanks again, and have an awesome day!

I LOVE BAROU!!! tysm for giving me the opportunity to write for him!! and i just write gn! readers for asks that don't have a specific gender! so ty for giving me the chance to write this!

a barou shoei peach slice :)

જ⁀♡⊹｡° i'll be loving you for quiet some time

♡ a/n — for my more than a married couple event!

♡ content — barou shoei x trans! ftm! reader, trans! reader, FTM! reader, best friends to lovers, childhood friends to lovers, mention of barou's sisters, soft barou at some parts, insecure reader, overthinking reader, set in a high school :)

♡ synopsis — you've always felt like you needed barou around to live happily, but what you didn't know was that barou needed you just as much

“This is going to be a disaster,” you muttered, arms crossed as you glanced around the small apartment assigned to you for the marriage simulation program.

“It’ll only be a disaster if you make it one,” Barou shot back, dropping his duffel bag onto the couch with a loud thud.

You rolled your eyes at his typical bluntness but couldn’t help smirking. Barou was as brash as ever, but you knew him well enough to recognize the faint edge of nervousness in his voice.

You’d been friends for years—ever since you’d both been paired for a group project in high school. Despite his imposing demeanor and sharp tongue, you’d always been able to see past his tough exterior. Underneath all the bravado was someone fiercely loyal, someone who’d had your back through thick and thin.

When you’d first come out as trans, Barou had been one of the few people who didn’t bat an eye. “So what?” he’d said, shrugging like it was the simplest thing in the world. “You’re still you. That’s all that matters.”

It was part of why you felt comfortable enough to ask the teachers to be paired up with him in the first place.

Still, standing here now, in the shared apartment that would be your home for the next few months, you couldn’t help feeling a little apprehensive.

“So,” you said, breaking the silence, “how do we do this?”

Barou snorted. “It’s not that complicated. We act like we’re married, follow the program’s stupid rules, and get out of here with a good grade.”

He made it sound so simple.

“Right,” you said, nodding. “Totally normal. Pretend-married to my best friend. No big deal.”

Barou glanced at you, his crimson eyes narrowing slightly. “If you’re gonna freak out about it, just say so.”

“I’m not freaking out!”

“Good,” he said, brushing past you to unpack his things. “Then let’s get to it.”

The first few days were… awkward, to say the least.

Barou was used to doing things his way, and his way wasn’t exactly “teamwork-friendly.” He took up most of the closet space with his perfectly folded clothes, insisted on meal preps that were more suited to a bodybuilding competition than a normal diet, and had a habit of leaving his weights scattered around the living room.

You'd known him for years, but you weren't sure if you could actually survive living with him for more than a few days.

Lord help you.

But despite his gruffness, there were moments that reminded you why you’d signed up for this with him in the first place. Like when he insisted on walking you home from the grocery store late one night, grumbling about how it wasn’t safe for a “weakling like you” to be out alone, even though you were perfectly capable of handling yourself.

Or the time he noticed you hesitating before taking off your hoodie and said, without looking directly at you, “It’s hot. Just take it off. Nobody’s judging you here.”

And especially the time he caught you staring at yourself in the mirror while your mind plagued you with the thoughts of how Barou could have met the love of his life in this project, and because you were scared (in all reality) to be without him, you took that away from him.

He didn't think that, by the way.

But the way he came up behind you and stared at you through the mirror, a silent agreement of "I'd choose you every time" in his eyes before he walked away/

It was little things like that—small, thoughtful gestures buried under layers of his usual gruffness—that made you feel seen and safe.

One evening, as you were both sitting on the couch going over your weekly tasks for the program, Barou turned to you suddenly.

“Why’d you want to do this with me?” he asked, his tone unusually serious.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

He leaned back, crossing his arms. “You could’ve done this with anyone. Someone easier to deal with. So why me?”

You hesitated, feeling your cheeks warm. “Because I trust you,” you admitted. “You’ve always been there for me, Barou. And… I knew you wouldn’t make this weird. You’d treat me like me.”

Barou stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he huffed, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Damn right I would.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension easing.

As the weeks passed, the awkwardness faded, replaced by a comfortable rhythm. You and Barou fell into a routine—sharing meals, teasing each other about the program’s silly tasks, and navigating the challenges of “married” life together.

But somewhere along the way, something shifted.

It was in the quiet moments—the way he’d glance at you when he thought you weren’t looking, the way his voice softened when he said your name, the way your heart skipped a beat whenever he brushed past you.

You tried to push the feelings down, telling yourself it was just the simulation getting to your head. But when Barou started going out of his way to do little things for you—like leaving your favorite snacks on the counter or adjusting the thermostat before bed because he knew you got cold easily.

Maybe it was just because he was used to taking care of others, he had sisters, but you couldn’t ignore it anymore.

The turning point came one night after dinner.

You were sitting on the balcony, the city lights twinkling in the distance, when Barou joined you, plates in his hands.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” he said, his tone uncharacteristically gentle.

You sighed, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve. “Just… thinking.”

“About what?”

You hesitated, then decided to take the plunge. “About us.”

Barou raised an eyebrow. “What about us?”

“This whole thing… it’s fake, right? But sometimes, it doesn’t feel fake.”

He was silent for a long moment, his gaze fixed on the plate of food you'd made together in front of him.

“Yeah,” he said finally. “It doesn’t.”

You turned to look at him, your heart pounding. “So what do we do about that?”

Barou met your eyes, his expression serious but soft. “We stop pretending,” he said simply, as if it was the easiest thing ever.

And with Barou, it kind of was.

From that moment on, everything changed.

The line between friendship and something more blurred completely, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to lean into the feelings you’d been holding back.

Barou was still himself—blunt, stubborn, and annoyingly particular—but he was also warm, protective, and fiercely loyal in a way that made you feel like you could take on the world.

By the end of the program, when it was time to present your “marriage experience” to the instructors, Barou didn’t hesitate to take your hand, his grip firm and steady.

“I learned that sometimes, the best partnerships aren’t about being perfect,” he said, his voice steady. “They’re about being real. And this?” He glanced at you, a rare smile breaking across his face. “This was as real as it gets.”

Barou wasn't the most gentle guy...but for you, he'd happily do whatever it took to keep you safe.

Your heart swelled as you squeezed his hand, knowing that whatever came next, you’d face it together.

i tried to make the character as FTM as i could, but i didn't want it to seem like TOO much yk?

I hope you liked it!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[youhideastar]

Fangs of Fortune Recs!

By popular demand! This list is very preliminary, since new stuff is being written all the time! But for now, here are a few of my favorites:

Throw the Windows Wide by achray

You know when an author writes a fic that captures exactly the vibe of a pairing that made you fall in love with that pairing in the first place? It’s so hard to do, because you have to start by perfectly capturing both characters as individuals, but this author makes it look effortless. Here, Zhuo Yichen sees Zhao Yuanzhou kissing Li Lun—a sight that definitely wasn’t meant for him—and has a conversation with him about it afterward. The author’s command of the characters’ speech patterns and body language is flawless, and this fic gave me SO many feelings about these two. Bonus 1: it’s followed by a VERY HOT sequel. Bonus 2: I would rate this as pretty accessible to folks who haven’t seen the series yet. Bonus 3: check out the same author’s Everything You Always Wanted To Know About Demon Sex (But Were Afraid To Ask), which is SO cute and features a lot of embarrassed Zhuo Yichen (my favorite!).

unbroken vow by ximilu

One of the great gifts this show gives fic writers is the multiplicity of opportunities for fuck-or-die setups (or, to be more specific to the genre, “only dual cultivation can save you” setups), and there are several great examples, but this one is my fave. Set during the arc when Zhuo Yichen is carrying around massive amounts of demonic qi but no demonic core to ground it… well, I can’t do better than the author’s summary: “Stop me, then.” Li Lun isn’t looking at Zhuo Yichen at all when he says it, all his attention turned to hurting Zhao Yuanzhou instead. “Save your precious Xiao-Zhuo daren. Fuck a core into him yourself.” Absolutely nobody is having a good time in this fic, each for their own different reasons, and the angst is so, so delicious.

Honorable mention goes to full of tangled karma by angryteapot, which uses dual cultivation to solve the Episode 34 dilemma with a delightful mpreg threesome scheme – come for the porn, stay for Wen Xiao righteously and literally kicking Zhao Yuanzhou when he’s down because he trampled all over her agency.

 Silly Concern, Serious Question by dykemania

After the mpreg joke during the Ying Long arc, Zhuo Yichen asks Wen Xiao if she actually thought he might be pregnant. Their conversation is so tender and so vulnerable – the author has such a great handle on their relationship and on the two characters as individuals: Wen Xiao matter-of-fact and protective, Zhuo Yichen bravely persevering through his embarrassment. I’ve re-read this like three times already because reading it feels like a warm hug.

Others!

I also recommend Onmyo-Jin’s awesome collection of bite-size fics, of which my favorites are Out of habit (Zhao Yuanzhou doing a great impression of the cat who sits on your laptop while you’re trying to work) and In danger of you (the classic “we’re being chased so we have to make out to conceal our identities”).

Finally, I love fruits of your labor by ghostrunner, which is another great fic that’s super accessible to folks who haven’t taken the plunge to watch the show yet. It’s a missing scene from Episode 31 (the gathering-branches-from-the-sacred-tree bit), but most of all it’s Zhuo Yichen and Zhao Yuanzhou finally stepping over the line between friends and lovers, taking joy in the discovery of one another’s desires.

(And I’d be remiss if I missed this opportunity to plug my own post-canon fic, The Wedding of the Great Demon, which is also very accessible for a reader who hasn’t seen the drama yet!)

[whimsyprinx]

one of the things that hurts the most is that if i pretended nothing wrong was and went back to how I was prior to things getting Unbearable that people probably still wouldn’t nothing, things would go back to being the same, unfortunately I don’t want that

[lycandrophile]

hey i know your post about your mom was mostly just a personal vent, but i have to say, do you realize that also happens with trans girls and their fathers? literally happened to one of my friends. i’m not trying to downplay your experience or something but i found it strange that you seem to think this is something that only affects transmascs

i have one question for you: so fucking what?

i don’t doubt that trans girls have experienced similar things and yeah, that’s bad too, but what the fuck does that have to do with me and the specific things i’m facing as a result of being a trans man? i never said “look at this thing that happens to ONLY trans men and NO ONE ELSE,” i just said “hey, isn’t this thing that happens to a lot of trans men, including myself, fucked up?”

i would also like to point out that what you’re talking about is in fact a different (albeit similar) thing. the way cis people treat trans people can differ dramatically based on the cis person’s gender because their commitment to gender roles is, like, a major part of problem. the specific way a cis mother reacts to her trans son’s transition is often going to be very distinct, while a cis father will likely respond to his trans daughter in a different but equally distinct way.

what i’m talking about is a very specific kind of ownership and control and self-victimization and total lack of boundaries masquerading as love and care and maternal concern that cis women (i would argue white cis women in particular) project onto their transmasc kids when we do literally anything to our bodies. i’m talking about a phenomenon which is closely related to the way moms often pass eating disorders onto their daughters (or children they view as daughters) because they see a body that looks something like theirs and project all of their insecurities and ideals onto it. i’m talking about a form of parental transphobia and projection that’s specific to the dynamic of a cis mother and her child who was “supposed to” be her daughter.

if you’ve never felt that, you’re not even remotely qualified to tell me shit about how i should be talking about that experience, and if you couldn’t recognize that experience when you read my post, i’m guessing you probably haven’t experienced it because the replies to that post made it very clear to me that anyone who has experienced it firsthand immediately knew exactly what i meant.

like, yeah, cis dads also project onto their trans daughters, but are they likely to have a reaction like running away with actual tears streaming down their face? do you expect them to passive aggressively make comments about how sad their kid’s transition makes them, how it’s such a difficult emotional time, how it’s so tragic because their kid’s body was so beautiful before? do you think their go-to transphobic reaction will be weaponizing their emotions? i’m sure there are some dads out there who are like that, but i think we can agree they’re in the minority because that’s not how cis men are taught to react and parents like this tend to be pretty damn committed to following the gender roles they were taught.

and even if i’m wrong and our experiences are exactly the same, let me reiterate that i never said this was an experience exclusive to trans men. all i said is that it happens to us. that’s just a statement of objective fact.

this started in my life when i got my hair cut short for the first time almost a decade ago and it has not stopped since. i’ve watched my mom cry over me changing my name and respond to being asked if my happiness matters more to her than my name by saying “i care about both”, i’ve watched her melt down in a mall over me getting a suit for prom and give me the silent treatment for days after, i’ve heard her plead with me to stop t because it “looks unnatural” and she’s just so “concerned for my health”, i’ve watched her stare at me post-op and say “my poor baby” over and over like she’s looking at my corpse in a casket. i’ve watched her turn herself into the victim of every single aspect of my transition. i’ve had to live with this for 9 years and spent the early years of the pandemic literally locked in a house with it. this has been my entire adolescent and adult life, and the question of if i’ll have to cut her off someday (and maybe never see my cat or my little cousins who i love more than anything in the world ever again as a result) haunts me every single day.

who the fuck are you to tell me how to talk about that?

[kingofmyborrowedheart]

If you’re so disillusioned with who Taylor is as a person and believes she’s changed for the worse, why are you still here as a fan? If you believe her “activism” isn’t up to your standards, are tired of her not using her platform, see her as an uncaring and callous billionaire, why are you still here and engaging in fan spaces if you’re no longer enjoying her and her work? Just disengaging completely if that’s the case; find something or someone else to pour your time and energy into.

[macabre-crab]

“me when a baby emo tries to tell me…” “me when a girl with x y and z tries calling me a poser…” “me when…” SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP WHY IS EVERYTHING A COMPETITION I DONT FUCKING CAAARRREEEEEEE

[1roentgen]

.

[leelesbo]

you should rub your nipples for me by the way, hun, make some cute noises. unless you’re already doing so, fucking perv <33 - 🐗

fuckkfjskf i literally Can’t even tho id love to bc um. im. with friends. um.

[trashbaget]

tell me your failed/embarrassing flirting stories to make me feel better, i’ll go first: today i said “get out of my way” forgot to say “i’m kidding” then immediately said “bye”

[tyrianlynch]

I’ve been improving a lot mentally lately and today my wife (best friend who I’ve lived with for 7 years) told me she’s divorcing me (moving to a city we both swore we’d never live in) and she’s taking the kids (our dog) and this is just further proof that god will never allow me to be happy or hopeful

[georgianadarcies]

genuine and open question: how do you know when someone just isn’t that into you vs. maybe you never gave yourself a real chance with them and should truly give it a go just in case there’s a shot?

[saturnsuv]

i need opinions on smth rly quick

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[binders-and-beanies]

If u tell a trans disabled person to call the cops or tell someone else to call the cops abt them u do not care abt that person’s safety

[merriclo]

ahsjkds rant/vent in the tags