#i quite like these toxic gays

[the-kreechur-featurr]

Close to the heart, resting in your internals

Let me live here, Let me die here

Close to you from now

till dreams end

[ryemiffie]

I'm not going crazy becuase of billford! What a ridiculous thing to say!

"Don't you get it?! I'm nothing! You're nothing! Everything is nothing! But.. Maybe we could be.. something?... Ford I'm scared here, they're all trying to fix me again, giving me medicine to make me "better" but I've been given medicines before, I don't like it, I don't like being their better, I'm sorry Ford, I'm sorry I'm no good at being better."

I'm not going crazy at all!

"Is that what you wanted Ford? An apology? Would that have made us better? I don't mean it, but I am sorry."

[finalgirlsamwinchester]

thinking about pilot draft dean harrison again

[tiny-steve]

oh the experience of watching my pol*ceman, a movie which clearly thinks i'm so stupid, only to go into the tag afterwards to read some of the most takes of the century

[monsterblogging]

"I know JK Rowing is a terrible person but her books are so good-"

You sure about that?

I mean, just for a start, have you taken a good look at her fantasy creatures lately? A whole bunch of them are straight-up based on malicious and dehumanizing stereotypes about actual people.

Remember the werewolves? And being a werewolf was made into a kind of metaphor for having AIDS?

And you know how AIDS was first associated with gay men? And how conservatives back in the day were claiming gay men were preying on children in order to convert them to gayness?

Remember how Fenrir Greyback preyed on children in particular? Yeah, she put that subtext in there. She was an adult in the 90's. She knew damn well what she was doing.

Remember the house elves? Remember how most of them loved to serve and needed to have a home and a master or else they just wouldn't know what to do with themselves?

Did you know that's literally what slavers in the American South said about the Black people they kept enslaved? Go look up the happy slave myth.

Do I even need to get into the goblins and the antisemitic tropes they're based on? No, folkloric goblins were not gold-hoarding bankers waiting for their chance to stab humanity in the back.

"But the characters are so good!"

Are you kidding me?

Most of her characters are pretty one-dimensional, including Harry. Her idea of making a morally complicated character is giving a tragic past to a bully. Numerous characters are little more than stereotypes. (Looking at Fleur right now.) Literally anybody, including you, can easily make dozens of characters just as good, if not better. (It doesn't exactly take a lot of character designing skill to go, "hey, actually, having a sad backstory doesn't make it okay to bully children" or "hey, maybe I should not base a character on the first stereotype that pops into my head.")

"But the rest of the worldbuilding!"

Sorry, but her worldbuilding is just as basic as her characters. Magical castles and secret passages are stock tropes. Magical people who keep their true nature secret from humanity is the premise of pretty much every White Wolf TTRPG. Most of her fantasy creatures are just common European fairy tale and folklore creatures with shitty stereotypes projected onto them.

I'm not saying "basic worldbuilding bad." I'm saying, you could do just as good, if not better, with minimal effort.

Also there's her magical bioessentialism, where only Harry's abusive blood relatives could provide him with supernatural protection from Voldemort. Rowling thus effectively declared that non-biological family isn't quite real family, and that abusive biofamily can give you some essential thing that a loving, supportive family that isn't related to you just can't.

The Hogwarts houses are one of the most insidious elements of her worldbuilding. The idea of being sorted gives you a little dopamine hit because wow now you have a li'l niche where you belong!

But the actual function of the houses and sorting system and the House Cup is teaching children to see each other as rivals, and ensure that the most toxic views of the upper class get passed on to every new batch of kids sorted into Slytherin.

Hogwarts effectively prepares children for a dystopia where magic serves to distract its citizens from how nightmarishly awful it is. Economic inequality is so bad that people like Arthur and Molly Weasley can barely afford to put their kids through school, casual sadism is just an accepted norm in everyday society, and non-humans are second class citizens. Rowling sorta acts like she thinks this is a bad thing with certain lines she gave to Dumbledore, but in the end, her special boy protagonist becomes an auror; IE, a defender of the status quo. So.

If you've never seen it, Lily Simpson's video goes into even more detail on how the worldbuilding of Harry Potter is actually incredibly fucked up, and how it betrays small-minded attitudes on Rowling's part. There's no separating the art from this artist, because Rowling's rotten values pour out of nearly every page.

Yes, there are many things in Harry Potter that evoke feelings and inspire people, but there's absolutely nothing in it that this series has a monopoly on. You can find those same experiences in much, much better media.

[isaacthedruid]

(spoilers for the Barbie movie)

As a trans-masc non-binary person, I saw myself in Allan. I’m a boy but not a Ken, I'm Ken-like but not quite.

Allan’s role of being awkward, unsure and a little out of his element but still trying to help the Barbies through the chaos and events caused by the Kens, is how I feel as a trans-masc person who is still trying to advocate for women and discuss the issues they face.

I don't identify as a woman anymore but I still grew up as a girl, I lived as a young woman for 14 years, and people continue to be misogynistic towards me when they think I am one-- customers will talk to my male coworkers instead of me, when I’m the person with the answers

I wasn’t expecting to see myself, in terms of gender, in the character often described as Ken’s boyfriend, though it is said in a more playful, joking way rather than any attempt at representation. I’m gay and this version of Allan is definitely queer as well. Yet, that’s a separate story which has already been written, here’s an excellent article about that. [LINK]

Allan isn’t Ken, and he isn’t Barbie either. Allan is simply Allan, an idea with both masc and femme traits. He doesn’t fit into anything specific, he just is. Allan can wear Ken’s clothes but also Barbie’s pink jumpsuit-- but when he's not doing that undercover mission with the Barbies, we only ever see him wearing his own clothes. A set of clothes worn only by him, that iconic striped outfit that is signature to the real Allan doll.

Additionally, notice the horse patch on the front of his shirt, he never changed his clothes unlike the rest of the Kens when they discovered the patriarchy and a new version of masculinity, a toxic and destructive one. Allan only added something to his clothes to “fit in” or act as if he did, but he hated what the Kens did to Barbieland. He also wasn't brainwashed and never acted upon those destructive abilities that were laid out for him. He could've just joined the Kens and broke stuff and drank copious amounts of "brewskis" but he didn't.

Allan is different and it's constantly stated, "there's only one Allan" in this world of Kens (and Barbies).

I will never be Ken nor will I ever be a Barbie again, I’m not happy in either. I’ve tried both, neither is my style (or title). I wear Ken’s clothes as well as Barbie’s, and sometimes I wear Allan’s.

But, I like Allan’s clothes best, they fit me well.

[johnbrand]

Man-Up Camp

With @gassydumbjocks

Just to make it clear, Joel had no problems with his son being gay. Tanner had grown up a decent young man, now almost 25 and working in the bioengineering field. But throughout his childhood and adolescence, Joel has fostered quite the effeminate son. It made no sense regarding Joel's background. Obsessed with sports, passionate about drinking beer, supporting his family through thick and thin. He was not conservative, but such a traditionally masculine man should not have reared the pinkest pony on the block.

Science and gender studies over business and sports management, Christina Aguilera over Garth Brooks. Heck, Joel had even been excited to have the talk with his son, but instead the discussion turned into Tanner explaining how bottoming worked! All Joel had wished for was a real man of a son, someone he could be proud of. So after hearing of a fantastical “Man-Up Camp”, Joel decided to send his son in. Tanner was almost past the point of young adulthood, so Joel did not want to waste any more time than necessary.

Everything happened fast after Joel’s payment had gone through. Tanner had exited the lab building for the night after a long day of research. Minding his own business and walking on the sidewalk while listening to the music, he had not even noticed when the camp's van suddenly pulled up beside him. Out hopped two burly men, and suddenly Tanner felt a sharp prickling in his neck followed by another in his side. Once out cold, the men were easily able to haul the twink into the van and head off to camp.

When Tanner eventually awoke, he was greeted by a taller lad with tanned skin, a beefy frame, and an already-noticeable obnoxious personality. The hunky man was only wearing some gym shorts, airing out his musk into the small, concrete room. 

"Wha…what’s going on?” Tanner’s high voice squeaked, noticing he was tied up. 

“Welcome to Man-Up Camp, bro!”

Within a moment’s notice, the jock approached and quickly shoved his victim’s head into one of the hairiest armpits Tanner had ever seen. After about 30 seconds, the jock released Tanner, revealing the twink’s sweat and funky grime-covered face.

"Thought you’d like that, sissy boy,” the jock taunted, motioning to Tanner’s small, erect dick before leaning in with a:

BOOUUUURRRPPP!

"Ugh, god..." Tanner grumbled as he swallowed the nasty smoke. Before he could recover, the jock had already turned around, raising a leg before grunting.

PPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTT!

The putrid smell dove right for Tanner, penetrating into his skin as it was absorbed. This process of funk exposure would continue for a few hours. The jock would go back and forth between all different methods of emanating stench, a way of directing pure masculine DNA.

As Joel had read online, the unadulterated toxicity would erode away at the drugged client, contaminating until their being was soaked in what was deemed as “undeniably alpha”. In the end, the trauma would restructure Tanner's memory to appropriate the results.

———

Nervously, Joel knocked on the door of his son’s apartment. Tanner had returned from the Man-Up Camp two days ago, but the program had advised not to visit clients for at least 48 hours to help solidify the marination process. Now, Joel stood before his decision, wracked with excitement and guilt. He had not agreed with all the program’s promises, including the conversion, but his desperation for a manly son sat stronger. Joel just hoped he had not gone too far.

“If it ain’t my old man!” A booming voice greeted from the entryway. For the first time ever, Joel had to look up to make eye contact with his son. “I was just about to leave for a game with the boys, wanna come?”

Joel took in his new son. Gone was the short flamboyant nerd; what now stood before him was the epitome of masculine identity. Tanner was tall, muscular, and hairy. Just by peering into the apartment, it was clear his priorities had shifted. While once impeccably decorated, Tanner’s home was now filled with cheap generic furniture, discarded takeout leftovers, and dirty clothes scattered across the floor.

After being blasted by the funk wave that emanated from his new son, Joel agreed to join him. In response through burps, Tanner spelt out a “G-R-E-A-T B-R-OURP!” right into his father’s face.

Over the rest of their time together, Joel simply sat on the sidelines studying this new man. He could not help but take in every inch of Tanner's physical and mental testosterone. The camo baseball hat, the scruffy beard, the lightly-dusted pecs, the massive dong swinging freely in the workout shorts, the giant shoes clomping around the court. His interactions too, chest-bumping his bros when he scored a point and blasting the losers with smelly butt bombs. Tanner had become a dumber, grosser, obnoxious, bigoted version of himself: Joel could not have been more proud of his success. 

“Yo Pops!” Tanner shouted, adjusting himself freely. “You ever gonna join us or you just gonna fag out over there?”

Joel laughed. This new rowdier, cockier Tanner was gonna take some time to get used to. Perhaps Joel would just have to man-up himself.

[chewnotchoke]

boynextdoor when you make them jealous on purpose

warnings: none!

scenario: prank flirting with your guy friend (who's actually gay) in front of your boyfriend



more under the cut!

sungho

𓍯 not afraid to voice it out, his gaze pierces through like he's about to reach his limit. he taps his fingers on the table consecutively while watching you touch the arm of your guy friend in front of him "are you being serious right now, y/n?” he mouths his words. "why?" you shrugged your shoulders and laughed like you didn't understand.

𓍯 he hurriedly types and sends you a text message saying "babe, that's not..." and when you just peeked over your screen and ignored his message got him fuming.

𓍯 he's actually not the type to get Jealous jealous but he sure is bothered by it so when he looks like he's about to get upset, you scoot over to his side to kiss his cheeks. "i'm just joking, sungho."

𓍯 "were you? no you're not! i don't think you were..." he refuses to believe because he's still upset and sulking. "yes, baby. you know i would never do that with anyone. i promise." his eyes starts looking at you as if he wants more attention. "i dont think one kiss is enough though."

riwoo

𓍯 you had mix of emotions swirling within you—fear, and excitement. to be honest, this prank got you thinking twice because it may not look like it, but riwoo looks really terrifying when he's jealous.

𓍯 when he noticed that you're leaning towards your guy friend in a suspicious amount of times while laughing, he eyes your hands, cotinuously touching the biceps of your friend, and then back to you.

𓍯 he gets a little quiet and becomes more observant, like every move and touch is a big deal to him. he would look out of the window with an inaudible sigh coming out from his mouth and say "ah, really...are you forgetting that's my girlfriend?" and it becomes obvious from the tone of his voice that he's getting riled up. "babe, it's just a prank and yes i'm your girlfriend."

𓍯 takes quite a while for you to show affection so he could stop sulking but he actually feels a little better the moment you reassure him while caressing his face. he becomes a little pouty when you cup his cheeks with your palms "are you sure it was a prank? you look all over him!" and then starts getting talkative again (it means he wants you to keep baby-ing him)

jaehyun

𓍯 also vocal. vocal about complaining. he gets jealous to a certain extent. he's not fazed when it happens once or twice, but thrice? he'd try to block the two of you with his arms in between and would go like "yo, yo, yo! distance please!" he grins sarcastically.

𓍯 he's pretty much cool with your guy friend but always reminds him to know his boundaries and that a friend is just a friend. "but friends can do this right?" you joked, linking your arm around your friend's and leaning your head on his shoulder. jaehyun pauses to the sight of the two of you.

𓍯 "hey, come on! i'm not a toxic boyfriend but that's not just right! don't you think?" he stands up, pointing to the two of you.

𓍯 in denial about what he's seeing so when you told him it was a prank, he also was having a hard time to believe you. he has mino trust issues so :(

𓍯 remember the face jaehyun made when taesan accidentally switched to back cam during their weverse live? yeah, like that.

taesan

𓍯 he knows you too well, and so he knows you aren't really touchy with other people, and even to taesan himself. so when he catches you being too comfortable around your guy friend he knows something is not right

𓍯 "what did you just do?" he speaks in a low voice, innocently asking, one corner of lips quirked up. "hm? what?" you slightly leaned your heard forwards, pretending to be confused. "nothing." he shook his head.

𓍯 at first, he thought he was just tweaking. but when your guy friend suddenly pats your head, something in him was provoked. he pokes his cheek with his tongue, eyes looking away. "this guy must think i'm a joke." he thought.

𓍯 "stop that? it's not funny." taesan's obviously irritated, and you felt like a few more touches would make him blow up. "alright, alright it was just a prank, babe."

𓍯 he doesn't calm down right away but a few kisses would work, right?

leehan

𓍯 takes a while for him to fall for the prank. he looks at you two without any visible expressions on his face. he tries to hold it back as much as he can.

𓍯 when it gets too much for him, he doesn't even bat a single eye at all. you try to catch his attention with a few touches with your friend but his eyes were glued on his phone.

𓍯 this guy is michievous and thinks of a way to retaliate right away, so when he looks like he wasn't bothered, you start to wonder because the leehan you know would not let it slide.

𓍯 you try to make your actions more obvious so he would notice and get a reaction, but leehan...doesn't utter a single word

𓍯 a little later, he suddenly calls someone on his phone, his voice louder than usual to get the same attention you were looking from him. "ah, hey! i was wondering if you're free later? wanna grab some lunch with me?" when you try to steal his phone from him, he blocks your hand, failing with your attempt. "what? go flirt with your friend, and i'll do the same too."

𓍯 when you got sulky, leehan shows you his blank screen, showing that he was calling no one and you got pranked instead.

woonhak

𓍯 when he's jealous, he doesn't open up to you about it. one thing he always do is he walks out of the situation so he wouldn't feel worse. but this time, woonhak was just sitting in front, trying to keep up with you and your friend.

𓍯 when you were pretending to be all over you friend, his eyes wanders around the place because he doesn't want to keep thinking about it and replay it in his mind

𓍯 he only confronts you afterwards and tells you everything he saw, and when you try to hold his hand, he backs away because he's upset about it.

𓍯 "weren't you too touchy with your friend earlier?" he drops the question, avoiding your touch and stare. "were you jealous?" you teased him, attempting to intertwine your fingers with him. "nope."

𓍯 "you clearly are." giggling, you try again to poke his cheeks. "i'm not." tilting his head away so you couldn't poke him. "it was a prank, woonhak. he likes men, and i like you. i was trying to make you jealous because you look so cute."

𓍯 he frowned and sulked, "do i look cute when i'm about to go insane?" you cling onto his arms, "yes, because you're a baby."

𓍯 "i'm not a baby!"

"not even my baby?"

"i am your baby..."

[risuola]

CALL IT DOUBLE TROUBLE — F. READER x GOJO SATORU & GETO SUGURU, who have a habit of sharing everything

It’s been a while since you last saw your college ex-boyfriend Gojo and a Halloween party led to your reconnection. It was cool to see him again, although your break-up was messy. What turned out to be a plot twist, was that he now has a handsome best friend and together, they are deadly.

cw: smut, exes to lovers, strangers to lovers, threesome, double penetration, praise, cum play, oral (f & m receiving), su*cide is mentioned (no description, just brief mention), reader discretion is advised — 6k words

masterlist

a/n: with that post I'm concluding the kinktober - sorry about the delay! work overwhelmed me, it sucked the life out of me, but I'll be getting back to writing now, so stay tuned! also, we hit 1300 followers, so I just want to say thank you so much for being here and reading the shit I post!

You were never that big on parties – you found them mostly annoying with the masses pushing and pulling all around you, drunk assholes that never seem to understand how consent works and even more drunk girls, that throw themselves at anyone slightly attractive. At least that’s how you remember every party you were on during your college years. You experienced firsthand how much effort men can put into chasing a hem of a mini skirt and you also saw in real life, how women were flexing their assets just to get into the pants they want. Unfortunately, usually pants that were in the biggest demand, were coincidentally belonging to your boyfriend. Uh, yeah, maybe that’s why you don’t really like parties.

Dating Satoru Gojo was a blessing, in some parts – he was just lovely to you. He was caring, to some extent, he was sweet-talking you into everything he wanted, and his arrogance always seemed to fly right over your head, but you loved him for longer than he deserved. You trusted him to not sleep with those eagerly spreading girls and he never did. At least that’s what you like to believe. Flirting with them – that was a different story. Satoru was an attention whore, really. He was basking in the gazes glued to him, the salivating mouths were feeding his already enormous ego and he seemed to have the time of his life pulling the strings of those poor, naïve girls that every time believed him when he told them they are just so pretty. His crystalline blue eyes were capable of turning lesbians into straight and straights into gay. The number of suggestive pictures he posed for flooded your social media each time after the parties you attended with him, and not one of those pictures he’s ever taken with you. And then, after leaving the frat houses and clubs, he would tell you how lucky you are to have him, how all of those silly girls were offering him their pussies oh so eagerly. He’d tell you how they envied you. All while he’d fuck you. You spent two years with him, then came the break-up and just as everything that involved Satoru was messy – so was your parting.

You really had no pleasure in partying, after freeing yourself from the toxicity of Gojo, you finally found peace. You flew through college with ease and after it ended, you found yourself quite a nice job – you were okay without attending any kinds of alcohol and loud music related people gatherings. That’s until Shoko called you earlier that month, practically begging you to pay her a visit on Halloween. She was in the city, having her family house all to her disposal due to her family being on a trip somewhere warm. It was a party where all of your college, mutual friends were going to be, a little reconnection if you will and she insisted you show up as well. It really sounded lovely to see where all of your friends landed in lives. With some you still had a regular contact, but some just went their ways and you rarely crossed paths with them, so you agreed to be there. That was a perfect opportunity to catch up and you were excited.

For some unknown reason, not even once you considered Gojo to be there as well. You just kind of pushed the memory of him to the back of your head, you removed him from the picture of your mutual circle of friends and completely you forgot that he’ll most likely be there as well. You realized it when Shoko asked you about him.

“Have you seen Gojo already?”, her tone was quite cautious when she mentioned the name to you, and with the way you looked at her from above your dying cigarette, she spoke again, “You know he’s gonna be there as well, don’t you?”

“Guess I blacked out that possibility,” you mumbled, shrugging softly to shake off the uneasiness of the thought and killing the cig in the sink before throwing it away. “No, I haven’t seen him and I hope it will stay that way.”

“Oh, you’re still wounded after him?”

“No, Sho, I’m not wounded,” you grabbed yourself a red cup from the array on one of the tables in the kitchen. You had no idea what concoction of liquid courage was inside every each of them, but you really couldn’t care less. If that was one of your first parties in years, you were not going to be picky and you trusted Shoko enough to not have death in those cups. “I’m really not. Thing is… I don’t know, it’s been so many years, I’m not really sure what to even tell him. We broke up in a mess that wasn’t addressed ever since, so you know.”

“Yeah, right, I remember the insanity of that action. Gojo was haunting my dreams for two weeks after the suicidal stunt he pulled off.” Ieiri flinched at the memory but laughed right after realizing how stupid all of that was. “He was a drama queen, we have to give him that.”

“See?”

“Well, you’ll most likely see him anyway, so just a hi will be good.”

“Noted.”

She left you to greet someone, and you shook your head, hoping to get rid of the flashbacks, but they were inevitable, you guessed it. Long time after ending things with Gojo you couldn’t find peace after what happened. You think you will forever remember the argument that unraveled after you told him you’re breaking up with him. There was so much screaming, your head pounded with pain for two days straight after that. Nothing more than accusing of the most bizarre shits and poison was spilling from his mouth when, for the first time, Satoru Gojo was informed that someone else is leaving him. Usually, it was him who ended things up, it was him who was cutting the strings and he was too immature back then to come to terms that other people are also entitled to just go away. You remember he went completely feral, almost psychotic as he was laughing at some point, throwing ironic insults at you as if it was gonna make you stay. He had to prove a point that it’s not you who want to leave him. It’s him who want to break up and you just accidentally happened telling him that before he managed to do so. After that, he threatened you that he will kill himself and he made it everybody’s problem – you had to know it, Shoko had to know it and every single one of your friends had to know it as well. You heard from Ieiri that after about three weeks he got back to being his usual arrogant playboy, as if he didn’t just cause drama of the century. He moved on. Traumatized everyone around him, but moved on nonetheless. Now you found the situation kind of funny. You were just kids and you were not meant to be together. That’s just how life works and you wondered sometimes if Satoru learned a little more life after that or did he stay the same.

Sighing again, you took the cup and slipped in between people in the living room, stepping outside to breathe some fresh air on the terrace, thankful that no one was there. Or so you thought and no wonder you almost jumped out of your own skin when you heard a voice right next to you.

“Fire?” He asked, after a moment of watching you search for the lighter in the pockets of your makeshift schoolgirl uniform. The unlit cigarette in your mouth betraying what you were looking for.

His tone was soft, saccharine sweet and calm at the same time and as you looked up at him, it somewhat matched the picture that met your eyes. The man was tall and broad, dressed all in black with dress pants and a hoodie. His sleeves half up, exposing the veiny forearms as he was keeping his lighter visible, ready to give you a hand.

“Yes, please,” you replied finally, leaning into the fire he opened and with relief you take the first breath in. You were not a smoker in your day-to-day life. One pack of cigarettes lasted you a year, but it was Shoko’s influence that today made you poison your lungs more than usual. “Thanks.”

“I’m Suguru. Geto Suguru,” he introduced himself, offering you his palm and you gave it a short squeeze, telling him your own name. You couldn’t find his face in your memories, and you’d like to think that such handsome features would tattoo themselves into your brain in one way or another. He had to come with someone else, you figured. Probably a boyfriend or a husband even. You couldn’t care less about asking. “Enjoying the party?”

“I’m not big on parties, really,” you shrugged, keeping your gaze away from him because hell, he made it so easy to stare with his long luscious, black hair resting over his shoulders and back, half tied up in a little bun just to get them out of his face. You couldn’t tell what his costume was, he had some kind of alternative style going on, slightly rocker vibes with his pierced ears and silver chains hanging from his neck, but it might have as well be his usual style – he looked good in it. He most certainly looked like a big, red flag but hell was the flag attractive.

“I see. Well, I’m not either,” he confessed, huffing out a greyish cloud of smoke out of his lungs and by the smell of it, you could tell it wasn’t nicotine.

“What you’re smoking?”

“Weed, why? Wanna try it?” It was an offer that you should politely say no to, but it was your first and probably last party in a while, so you asked yourself why not and took the joint from his fingers.

“So, you’re here with someone?” you questioned, just to keep the conversation going once you gave him the smoke back. You could feel the unfamiliar but somehow pleasant burn in your lungs after the drag you took and slowly you blew the fume out. Suguru found the view attractive. Sharing a joint with you felt a little more intimate than it should have, the way your lips wrapped around the brownish paper made him wonder how would they look wrapped around something else. Thoughts like this shouldn’t bloom in his head right after he’s met you, not when he’s an adult man, not a stupid kid anymore, but some things couldn’t be stopped.

“Yeah,” he inhaled once more, deeply enough to kill the joint and throw it away. You watched for a moment how he kept the smoke in his lungs, letting it go after a moment. The cloud escaping through his mouth and nose in a soft stream. Fuck, what a gorgeous man. Whoever was the girl that got him had to be lucky. “You know him, he told me about you.”

Oh, never mind.

“He? Ah, fuck, don’t tell me you came here with that idiot,” you reached down for your cup that few moments prior you put on the ground while searching for a lighter.

“Ow, you’re hurting my feelings, sweetheart.”

And there he was. You wondered where that tower of an asshole hid.

Once you look back at Geto, there was also Satoru. He was standing next to his friend slash partner, with his forearm propped over Suguru’s shoulder as he looked at you from above the black glasses, with the very familiar grin painted on his face. Gojo changed a lot since you last saw him. He was now buffier, seemed even taller than you remembered, and his facial features matured – his jaw became more square, eyes a little more lidded and even the smirk on his lips seemed less playboy-ish and more menacingly manly. He lost his princess looks and became a man. You wondered if his character changed as well, because you could still see him using his looks to take what he wanted.

“Oh, do I?” You questioned, eyeing him up and down. His clothes were almost exactly the same as Geto’s – only difference being the light color and the fact his sweatshirt had no hood. What he was wearing completely contrasted to what his friend had on and it made sense if they were here together. Black and white, like yin and yang. You had no idea if they were here as friends or lovers, but either way, you wouldn’t be surprised.

“You sure do,” Satoru shook his head, his smile now more friendly as he approached you, entrapping you in a hug that surely took you by surprise. “It’s good to see you, beautiful.”

“You too,” you guessed, not completely convinced about what you just said but you let it be.

“I’m sorry. I have to say it before you run away from me. I’m really sorry, I was a dick when we were dating,” Gojo’s voice reached your ears directly, but you had a hard time believing what you were hearing. He was never a type to apologize for anything. Please, sorry and thank you is a set of words that you were certain he never used and yet there he was, saying just that. He really evolved. Or he wanted something.

“Yeah, you were. Hope you’re not anymore,” you chuckled softly, brushing your hand over his side.

“I try not to be,” he confessed quietly, pressing a tender kiss to the side of your neck before letting go of you. He shouldn’t have kiss you like that, but the feeling of longing was way stronger than him. Even if for a moment, he had to just have a little taste of you.

Ever since you broke up, Gojo had no idea how much he missed having you in his arms. Up until that night he was okay with some random girls coming into and getting out of his bed with no strings attached. He seemed to be unable to form a lasting relationship after you, you were his first and last girlfriend that he committed to for so long, no matter how poorly. Even if he was nothing but an asshole to you, he often wished to marry you back in the college. Even if he couldn’t possibly show you how much he cared, because his childish behaviors were standing in the way of him reaching your heart properly, he really thought you will be the one and only in his life and even if he seemed to move on so quickly after you broke up with him, it was only for show. A cover up for the thunderstorm that was raging inside his chest, a band aid over the bleeding wound. No other girl was able to even half-fill the emptiness you left in his heart.

You were special to him and it thrilled him to the core when for the first time he heard from Shoko that you agreed to be there, because if it wasn’t for you, he wouldn’t show up as well. His time for partying finished along with his fourth year of college, when he realized there was less and less fun in drinking alcohol and forcing himself into flirting. When it came to you, he had never needed to force himself to do anything. He was just an immature kid when you dated, but he loved the time you gave him.

And now, you were still fitting perfectly into his body. As if he was made from memory foam that still remembered your shape. Now, you were still just as beautiful and breathtaking as he remembered you. In your little, schoolgirl mini skirt, thigh-high socks and a white button up shirt with a loosened tie you looked way sexier than you had a reason to. It’s been quite some time since he was that aroused from just looking at someone and you made him harder than he thought is possible. Fuck, what you were doing to him?

“So, what do you do now? Still living from party to party and from girl to girl?” You asked, taking a sip of your drink. It was strong and it really was better for you to take it in slowly, but there was a certain burn of nervousness tied to meeting your ex that you needed to drown.

“No, it’s in the past,” Satoru replied, inviting you inside, where all three of you found a nice place to sit on one of the couches. You landed between the two men. “I took the lead of my father’s company, Suguru’s my partner in crime. We’re doing good, I don’t party anymore. Honestly, if Shoko didn’t give me a sign that you will be there, I wouldn’t probably step by.”

“Oh, so you came to haunt me,” you joked, earning a soft chuckle from him.

“Yeah, kind of. Couldn’t reach you before and wanted to sort this whole mess out. I’m usually cool with having enemies, but you’re not someone I want to have as enemy.”

You gave his words a soft roll of your eyes. Maybe few years back you’d let yourself be sugarcoated into believing him, but not now. Maybe, just maybe, he matured a little, but some things will never change. Gojo was a flirt, is a flirt and probably will always be a flirt. But hell, was he cute. You cursed his innate ability to attract you from a mile.

“Sure, whatever,” you shrugged and the conversation after that was flowing nicely. You got to know Suguru, you learned who he is and why did he stick with Satoru. It was a friendship they developed that kept them together and maybe it was thanks to Geto that your ex wasn’t so much of an asshole anymore. Maybe it’s the brunette’s calm personality that somewhat grounded the playboy. Or maybe it was all an illusion. Yea, it had to be an illusion. There was no way that these two six-foot-three giants were not causing some troubles.

Yeah, they were a trouble. Double trouble, to be exact, and you got to learn that when the doors of one of many bedrooms on the floor closed behind you. You don’t even know how and why you agreed to go with them anywhere in the first place. You had no idea how on earth did Satoru sweet-talked you into fucking him again. For the old time’s sake, my ass. And more important, how did he sweet-talked you into fucking not only him, but also Suguru? At the same time?! You were not built for this, that’s for sure.

“Let’s have fun like we always did, yeah?” Gojo had this typical, shit-eating grin stretched on his face, when he was pulling you by the wrist onto the bed. Geto took his time and lit up another joint, opting to just stand and watch for now. He had a smirk on, his eyes were fixed on you, and you could tell that they weren’t new to sharing a woman. It really was obvious they did that before.

You had no time to think if that surprises you at all. Satoru was a stranger to patience. He never enjoyed waiting and always went straight for what he wanted, and this time was no exception.

“God, you look so fucking hot as a schoolgirl,” he muttered, burying his face into your neck, nibbing and kissing wet marks onto your skin whilst his fingers were already dealing with buttons of your white shirt. Your body acted on its own accord, responding to the red stains of his lips and the cold touch of his fingers with excitement that you felt for the last time when you were in college. It bothered you that you still were so receptive to the way he feels on you, you thought that you’re way over the Gojo effect but seems like you were gravelly wrong. “What a naughty one,” Satoru chuckled, his voice bordered a moan when he finally opened your shirt and your shapely tits, hugged beautifully by a lace bra entered his field of view. “Fuck, I missed those.”

“You’re talking too much,” you grabbed him by the hair, tugging the snow-white strands at the base of his neck and pushing his face down your neck and onto your chest, hoping it will shut him up. That was the issue with your ex. He really was a phenomenal lay but he was just talking so damn much. That was what ultimately pushed you over the edge when you were together back in the day. You just couldn’t stand listening about other women while he was with you.

“Maybe I am,” he chuckled, sucking a red spot onto one of your tits, earning himself another tug on the hair.

“Don’t mark me, idiot,” you warned him, but it was already too late and both of you knew it.

“My, my… so nervous. Let me help you relax,” Gojo smiled wide and made you lay flat on the bed. It took him no time to find his place between your thighs and before you even got a chance to react, he was already pulling your panties off of you. For a split second, your mind got distracted by the subtle scent of weed that’s filling the air. The smell that reminded you that it’s not only you and your ex in the room, but also another person.

“Don’t worry about me,” Geto smiled. Something mischievous lingered over his lips as he did before he took another drag. The joint between his fingers slowly but surely becoming smaller as he was saturating his lungs with the fumes, only to breathe them out after a moment.

“Are you not going to join?” You asked, your voice slightly breaking into a whine once Satoru flicked his tongue over your clit, reminding you how well he spoke the language of your body. He was fluent in your pleasure, you were never sure if it came to him with experience or was he just naturally gifted, but either way, he had a skill and was proud of it. He began eating you out like he was starving for the past decade. His tongue worked the puffy nub of nerves all the way around, he sucked and licked, slurped and kissed your cunt, causing your body to jolt in pleasure. He was purring while between your legs, his long fingers already working their way into your hole. The stretch was delicious, the symphony of his mouth and hands was slowly driving you insane.

“You’re so sweet,” Satoru mumbled, taking the pleasure away to smear some wet kisses along your inner thighs. “She’s so incredibly sweet, Suguru, you have to taste her,” he added, accentuating the thought with a bite onto the fat of your thigh. His friend just chuckled, making his way towards you and he handed you his half smoked joint.

“I’d love to,” Geto replaced your ex between your thighs. He kept looking into your eyes when he opened his mouth, presenting you with his pierced tongue. Little, metallic ball in the middle of the muscle glistened in the artificial lighting and it made you moan out loud, when he swiped it along your slit, gathering your juices. There was something absolutely intimidating about his calm demeanor, something nearly diabolic but it was exactly what attracted you to him. He was complete opposite to Satoru. He wasn’t bright and loud; his eyes weren’t big and vibrant. He looked mysterious, he kept himself quieter, his eyes kept the focus that Gojo couldn’t achieve. They really were made for each other.

“Oh god—,” your eyes nearly rolled back as he began working on your swollen clit ruthlessly. You had no idea if it was because of the piercing or was it just his skill, but it felt even better then when the snow-white was between your thighs. Or maybe it was just you being so turned on by him.

“You like it?”, your ex asked, grinning as he was taking the time to undress himself. “Knew you’re gonna enjoy it.”

You spared him the comment, losing the track of thoughts in the way Suguru was making you feel. You could have sworn you never felt something like this, he was just incredible with the way his tongue was engraving his own name into your clit. Cold metal of his piercing doubled down the pleasure you were receiving, contrasting with the heat of his muscle.

Your thighs began to tremble, your toes curled in, and you felt yourself quickly falling down the hole of ultimate lust. Euphoria was rushing through your veins; your heart was drumming in your chest as the smoke was leaving your lungs after the drag you took from the joint in your hand. Suguru was pushing you over the edge with such ease it felt illegal. You could feel him grinning proudly from his spot between your legs, you could feel his fingers gripping your hips with bruising strength, keeping them in place while he was slurping your soul straight from your weeping pussy.

Your orgasm exploded and you called out Suguru’s name. He didn’t stop. He kept drinking, thirsty for more of you as your juices coated his tongue and the bottom of his handsome face.

“You really do taste fucking sweet,” he commented, getting up and crawling above you. His lips were on yours the moment he reached your face. He tasted the smoke and you tasted yourself in that kiss. It didn’t last long, but the intensity of it made you almost dizzy. “Let’s get you out of this uniform.”

 It took just few moments until you were completely bare underneath the heavy gaze of two men around you. Satoru was just in his underwear, the tent in them painfully apparent and you knew him well enough that he won’t be able to wait much longer, but what bothered you was the fact that Suguru was still completely clothed. He looked sexy in his dark outfit, but he can look sexy in it later.

“Aren’t you a tease—” you muttered, once he got up from the bed to drown the rest of the joint in what little of alcohol was left in one of your cups on the bedside table. “Take this off.” You demanded, coming up to your knees and pushing his hoodie up.

“How demanding,” he laughed but complied and you managed to just blink twice before his god-like figure presented itself to you. A muscular, large body beautifully decorated with a dragon tattoo that wrapped its tail around his right bicep and spread on his back. You couldn’t decide what to focus on – his impressive musculature, the ink on his skin or the fact that even though he still had his pants on, you could already feel yourself salivating.

Satoru was right behind you, swiping the angry tip of his cock up and down your folds, gathering your slick and making you shiver from the touch. He then pushed his girth into you, stretching you impossibly and pulling a quiet, whiny fuck straight out of your throat. It’s been a while since you’ve been having sex with anyone, not to say anyone with that size, but you couldn’t deny that the burn was delicious. It set all your senses on fire, the heatwave washed over you and once Gojo went with the first thrust, it reminded you how much you missed the physical act of intimacy with him.

“Can’t focus, pretty girl?”, Suguru brought your attention back to himself. His long fingers gently gathered all of your hair into a messy ponytail, and you got the hint immediately. As on cue, you unbuckled his pants, pushing them down almost too eagerly. “Good girl.”

The praise in his tone got you weak, you were already becoming a mess from how perfectly Satoru was fucking you right now, pounding his hips against yours in the mind-numbing manner. His cock hitting all of the sweet spots inside of you with each long stroke and that was enough to make you almost incapable of thinking straight, but your hands and mouth acted on its own.

Geto watched how your lips wrapped around his dick. The sight of you taking him into your mouth with such hunger was something he wanted to engrave onto his brain and if the picture was amazing, then there was no word to describe the feeling itself. Your soft, plush lips felt divine brushing along his sensitive shaft, your tongue dancing around his length made him almost lose his composure. You were a sight. And you made him feel so good, he could feel himself twitching in the hot, wet embrace of your mouth. You were sucking him as if your life was depending on it, as if it was your last supper and you wanted to devour it and every time his plump tip hit the back of your throat, he could feel you taking control over him.

“Isn’t she amazing?”, Gojo mumbled from behind you. His grip remained iron on your hips, the bruising force being the only thing that was grounding you now. You could feel yourself clenching around him, your juices were running down your thighs and the wet sounds of skin slapping against each other were filling the room.

“Oh, she is,” Geto confirmed, applying some force onto your head. The tug on your hair was enough to send you overboard and the vibration of your throat once you moaned were enough for him as well. You couldn’t tell who came first, and frankly, you couldn’t care less about it, as long as it felt so damn good.

“I, fuck— I told you,” Satoru panted out. His hips moved slower as he was sloppily riding the high out. You licked the cock in front of you clean, satisfied with the first course but hungry for more.

You shouldn’t allow all of this to happen. There was not a single argument that could justify everything that was happening right now – you shouldn’t sneak out to god-knows-whose room in your friend’s house and you absolutely shouldn’t sneak out there with not only your ex-boyfriend but also his friend. You couldn’t even remember how you agreed to that. Why have you agreed to that? You had no idea. Was it to talk?

You wouldn’t exactly call the way your body was being stuffed full by two cocks at the same time talking. You were squeezing Suguru’s shoulders as he was thrusting his hips up against yours. His body below you, laying flat on the bed made for a canvas for your nails to leave marks, but he didn’t seem to mind at all. He was kissing you with a mixture of passion and laziness, a smirk stayed prominent on his lips as he was swallowing your moans. The subtle taste of weed in his mouth got you wanting more of him. He felt perfect in every way, his movements were setting your nervous system on fire as the heat was spreading over your entire body, radiating from your core. You could feel Satoru’s fingers teasing your clit, you could feel his lips smearing wet trails along your spine. The way his hips were moving seemed to be perfectly in sync with the brunette.

You were so full of them, you never felt something like this before. The initial pain you felt when Gojo pushed his girth into your asshole was long gone now as he was pounding into you in complete unison with how Geto was moving. The sensation of being so incredibly full turned your brain into a heated mush, your body was trembling between them, electrocuted time after time with a sharp waves of white pleasure. Your vision was blurry, the stars covered most of it. You could no longer tell whose hands were where and your thighs were wet and sticky from all the seed that was being pumped into you, gushing out with every piston of their hips.

“You’re so perfect for us,” someone told you. A low, rasped out voice resounded right next to your ear, followed by a harsh bite onto your shoulder and the sudden wave of new pain that radiated from it pushed you over the edge. You were speeding, falling with no parachute. You couldn’t breathe for a moment as the climax was overtaking you. “Such a good girl, you’re making so much mess.”

“Oh god,” you whimpered, gasping for air as their thrusts picked a pace. You couldn’t form any coherent sentence as they were fucking the soul out of your body. Right after you came, they both came as well. Their cum coated your insides and leaked onto your thighs, dripping down as they pumped into you some more.

Gojo was first to pull out, spreading your cheeks and admiring how his white overflown your hole. The menacing grin spread across his face as he gripped your hips and lifted you off Suguru’s cock. The long-haired man sat up as you, led by your ex’s hands turned to straddle Geto’s lap. Your back was facing his chest as he pulled you back onto his shaft. All of his length sank right into your ass, pulling a moan right from your chest.

“Look at you, so gorgeous,” Satoru was in front of you, admiring for a moment your bouncing figure before his long fingers slipped into your cunt, curling in a way that got him pressing onto your oversensitive sweet spots. “Open your mouth for me.”

You barely registered his words, but your jaw dropped nonetheless. His cum coated digits slid right through your lips and you sucked on them, twirling your tongue around and tasting the mixture of your juices and their seeds. Suguru’s hands were kneading your breasts as his friend was playing with the mess between your thighs.

There was something deeply erotic in a way the white-haired man kept your gaze up. How he looked right into your eyes while you were being fucked by his best friend, how he enjoyed the way you gave them your body to play however they wanted. And it felt even more erotic when Satoru licked the lone drop of cum that escaped the corner of your mouth only to kiss you right after.

Geto was still slamming his pelvis up and you got stuck in the realm of pleasure, hanging somewhere between the movements of the cock in your ass and the lips over your own. You could feel your thighs trembling. Your body, still oversensitive from the last orgasm and yet, already entering the state of another. The wave of lustful relief now flowing dangerously close to your core, the knot in your stomach holding just barely and you squeezed Satoru’s hair, tugging at them harshly. You were struggling to breathe through the heavy kiss he was laying on your lips, but the sensation of it rendered you unable to fight it.

And then it hit you once again. The man below you filled you to the brim, tearing down the last bits of composure you had and your world shattered once the final climax. You felt as if the lust and desire were steaming off of all three of you. The breaths were mixed and the tastes concocted. As all three of you fell onto the bed, blissfully satisfied, you began to slowly regain your mind to the sound of a soft chuckle from your left side. Satoru. He had a habit of laughing when he was fulfilled – a sign of his happiness, the state nearing high. There was some gratefulness in it as well.

“How are you feeling?”, the question came from the right side, where Suguru seemed to already plan how to take care of the entire mess. He kissed your shoulder softly.

“Good,” you replied to him, watching as he gathered himself up from the bed.

“You rest a little bit longer; I’ll go get washed first and then you two.”

[artificial-transmutations]

Finally Together

When Jerry called, I could immediately tell something was very wrong. He was holding an ice pack up to his face and looked deranged overall.

"Jerry? What the hell happened to you?"

"Oh, hey. Yeah. This." he pointed at his face. "That's a long story."

"Let me see!" I demanded. You see, Jerry was, most definitely, my bff - my very best, very gay friend. And he had a talent for getting into trouble, sadly.

He slowly lowered the ice pack and I gasped. His right eye was swollen shut, and his face was covered in bruises.

"How..."

"Well, there was this guy. He was kinda hot, and totally my type, but, you know, straight as an arrow. At least *now* I know that." Even despite his bruises, Jerry raised his eyebrows in the cutest way possible - one of the traits I admired about them.

Yes, I should mention, I kiiiind of had a tiny little crush on Jerry. Or perhaps a gigantic one. You always want the ones you can't have, right? In my case, I was a woman - which was enough to disqualify myself rather finally.

"...and? Did he hit you?" I asked, even though I already suspected the answer.

"Yeah. I was just talking to him, trying to subtly find out his orientation. You know how it goes. Apparently, I wasn't too subtle about it, though, and he kind of escalated all over my face. It's no big deal, now I know."

Jerry smiled, but I could clearly see that it caused him pain to do so. It nearly broke my heart.

"It is a big deal." I answered. "That's horrible. You are worth so much more than this. Where did it happen? Did you call the police?"

"It was in the gym. Keith - that's the guy - works there, so, I guess, I need a new gym." Jerry joked. "And no, I didn't call the police, it's just... it's alright, okay Mathilda?"

I was not convinced but decided to let it go. Jerry was just a so sweet and innocent guy, he wouldn't even cause someone trouble if that someone punched in his face. I, on the other hand, was fuming. That was not a way to treat my bff! I would have really liked to kick that Keith's ass right now.

I chatted a bit more with Jerry before he had to go and promised him to come over that evening.

To be quite honest, I didn't plan to do anything, but when I was walking to Jerry's apartment in the afternoon, I passed his gym. I didn't even know it was on the way, because I honestly never paid attention to it much. But now that I saw it on the way, I couldn't help it. I would go in there and just tell the manager that one of their employees was a homophobic asshole. Just a little push in the right direction.

I entered the gym. It looked quite standard, but I couldn't see any manager or anyone else to talk to, for that matter, so I just went in there. It was quite empty, which was not surprising at this time of the day. There was, however, a young, muscular man doing push-ups. It was quite disgusting, actually, with all the sweat dripping down his body and a musky, penetrant smell was filling the room.

He stood up and greeted me.

"Hi, there. You're not a member, are you?"

"I'm not." I said. I felt like adding a "sorry" or something but decided against it. Instead, I clutched my handbag tighter.

"So, what can I do for you, ma'am?" He had that smug grin of an urge driven man who seemed to undress me with his gaze. I shuddered in disgust, but still, I straightened my back.

"Well, actually, I'm here to make a complaint."

"A complaint? About what?"

"Your staff."

"Oh? Do you have an issue with someone working here?"

"Well, yes. I just learned that one of your trainers, Keith was the name, I think, assaulted a customer. That is a terrible way to treat people, and I will not stand for it."

The guy laughed and flashed me a superior grin while he nonchalantly readjusted his groin. Free balling of course. Ugh. Can you spell 'toxic masculinity'?

"Look, honey. Whoever told you that, they lied to you. Keith would never hit a girl, especially not a pretty one."

I felt my face reddening from anger.

"First off, I'm not your honey, and secondly, it wasn't a girl but a guy."

The guy raised his eyebrows. "Really? A guy, huh?"

"Yes. He is my very good friend, and it's not funny at all."

"Hmm. Yeah, I think I remember the guy, some fruity fag who needed to be told a lesson."

Then it dawned on me. The disgusting guy in front of me was the man that had hurt Jerry.

"You're the one who did it! How dare you!" I exclaimed and tried to slap his face.

Before I could land a hit, though, he grabbed my wrist with an iron grip and grinned like a predator.

"Ah, ah. I wouldn't try that, if I were you. Would be a shame, if something were to happen to your pretty face, too."

I withdrew my hand and trembled from disgust.

"Ugh. You're just such a disgusting... jock."

In hindsight, I had no idea what happened, but perhaps some benevolent spirit or sprite was listening. In any case, Keith all of a sudden got a really strange expression on his face and looked really pale for a moment. And then... he suddenly looked even paler, like white paper or cloth. I will never be able to forget the expression of surprise on his face, as his body kind of... collapsed in on himself. His muscular torso diminished, and his arms and legs twisted and fused into thin rubber strips. But his face... His face contorted into a white fabric pouch that was completely devoid of any features within seconds. It had only taken a few moments, but Keith had disappeared.

I looked around first, but nobody else was in the gym right now. I carefully stepped closer and inspected what was left of Keith. Inside his black, damp gym shorts that was lying on the ground, I could see a pair of men's underwear, I believe it was called a jockstrap: A large fabric pouch held by rubber bands - designed to just cover the genitals, although, judging by the size of the pouch, rather large genitals. Now, as Keith had demonstrated quite clearly just a few moments ago, he had certainly not be wearing any underwear - and I had seen what had happened to his face.

With pointed fingers, careful not to touch the damp gym shorts and almost gagging from the strong smell, I picked up the piece of underwear. I had almost thrown it away again, when I noticed that it, too, was covered in sweat and stink. However, the piece of underwear that had once been a man held a strange fascination to me. I lifted it up to my face, to have a closer look, but didn't consider the consequences. When I breathed in, my nose was filled with the overwhelmingly strong and manly smell of sweaty, unwashed genitals, and it triggered something inside of me. All of a sudden, I felt tingly all over and groaned. My body felt weird all of a sudden. It was like that disgusting smell was all around me, enveloping me, pushing me to... change, somehow.

In horror, I felt my feet swelling up in my shoes. It wasn't painful, but it felt like I had been wearing boots that were way too small. The pressure was quickly getting unbearable and painful until my canvas shoes and thin socks couldn't take it anymore. First on the left and then, shortly after, on the right side, the toes of massive feet burst out from the footwear. The pressure subsided, and it felt fine again.

The changes didn't stop, though. Now that my feet had broken free from their restraints, my legs were the next to follow. A ripping sound heralded the death of my tights, as my legs gained mass and muscles. It looked almost comically how the threads of my tights were ripped apart, strand for strand. At the same time, I watched, as my hands grew larger. Gone were my delicate fingers, replaced by thick sausage-like appendages. Those new finger weren't carefully manicured but instead, I was now sporting short, ugly nails that would have been fitting for a lumberjack, rather than a girl.

While my legs were still growing, and I was getting visibly taller, my arms were next to follow. My blouse didn't even stand a chance as the arms did not only grew longer but most importantly, stronger. My biceps swelled like I visited the gym every day and, to my horror, I saw a tattoo forming on my right arm that reminded me a lot of the one Keith had had. I didn't have much time to think about it, though, as a new force practically ripped my blouse apart: My torso was pushing outward in all directions. My shoulders widened considerably, and my bra snapped from the strain. At first, I thought my boobs were growing, but it was quite the opposite. They were receding into my body, being replaced by even more massive and decidedly male pecs. Below them, a ripple went through my stomach, leaving behind the cobblestone road of abs.

The changes had met up at my midsection now and I was afraid of what was going to happen next. Sure enough, my skin-tight summer trousers bulged forward as something pressed against them from the inside.

"No..." I groaned, with a lower voice than I was used to, and tried to push whatever was appearing back into my midsection, but it was no use. With another ripping sound, a penis emerged from between my legs, quickly followed by a pair of testicles that pushed the ruined trousers down and settled in between my tree trunk-like thighs.

My head started swimming. That was wrong, that was so wrong. But the changes just went on. An Adam's apple formed in my throat, further lowering my voice, and my face reformed. It became squarer, and my jawbones became more pronounced. At the same time, my beautiful long hair receded into a short masculine cut. However, as hair disappeared on top of my head, it grew elsewhere. Or, should I say everywhere. Disgusting, wiry body hair grew in on my arms and legs and even on top of my enormous feet and the back of my hands. My chest was coated by a layer of short and coarse hair, and a treasure trail led down my midsection, where it disappeared into a thick pubic bush.

Speaking of bushes, two more formed in the large area of my armpits. Ugh. I was hairy like a fucking monkey. The only well-groomed bit of body hair was on my face, in the short beard that I could see in the gym mirror.

I could hardly believe my eyes. Staring back at me from the reflection was no one else but Keith. *I* was a splitting image of Keith now, only naked aside from the tatters of my clothes. I wanted to scream, but all that came out was a low grunt.

Okay, Mathilda, no reason for panic, I told myself. I would just... Go see a doctor. Yes. There had to be an explanation. This could be treated.

I took a step towards the exit and stumbled over the remains of my coughing. Oh, right, I was still naked.

The only piece of clothing was Keith's gym shorts. Well, his gym shorts and Keith himself, who was a piece of underwear now. I looked between the shorts and the underwear. On the one hand, I really didn't want to wear what had just been Keith, but on the other hand... I certainly wasn't going without any underwear. Everyone would be able to see the outline of my current genitals. Yuck.

So, lacking other options, I pulled on the white piece of underwear. It was, unsurprisingly, very sweaty, and it clung to my junk. I grimaced, but it was better than the alternative. My ass was still largely uncovered, but that was not as bad as the front side. I had to admit that my new equipment filled out the pouch pretty well.

I quickly shook my head and pulled on the gym shorts as well. It felt weird not to cover my chest, but that was probably acceptable in my current state.

Perhaps I could ask Jerry if I could borrow some men's clothing from him.

Oh my, Jerry. He was probably waiting for me. I grabbed my handbag and fled the gym.

Walking felt weird. Of course, regardless of my looks, I was still a woman, so I took small steps and refused to spread my legs too much while walking. It was very awkward. The sun was shining down and although it wasn't all *that* hot, I found myself starting to sweat. How disgusting was that? It was like those stupid mountains of muscle were producing so much heat that my skin was soon glistening with sweat and my armpits started to smell. I tested it by lifting an arm and taking a whiff. Ugh. I needed a shower, badly. I probably would be able to use Jerry's.

Jerry... I saw his face right in front of me in my mind. The cute smile, the adorable brown eyes, the cute little dimples on his cheeks when he grinned.

A strange feeling came over me from my groin area. What was going on down there? When I looked down, the ample bulge of my cock had become even bigger, probably tenting out the pouch that had been Keith's face. I groaned. Men were so primitive. All it took was one sexy thought and bam, erection.

Still, I couldn't deny that it felt pretty good. I checked it anyone on the street was looking before I felt the outline of the cock through the layers of clothing with my big hand. The touch made me moan, and I felt my member throb.

That's when I experienced the weirdest feeling. As the sweat from my groin mixed with the fluids seeping out of the cock head and were absorbed by the jockstrap, all of a sudden, I felt the presence of Keith - the real Keith. It was like a strong mental attack, to get his body back, but I fought back. It was not *his* body, it was mine, even though it may have looked like Keith right now.

It was the strangest experience. I could practically *feel* his thoughts and emotions. The humiliation from being wrapped around, well, *my* cock and balls, I could even taste and smell an echo of what he was tasting and smelling, including the weird taste of precum that had mixed into the face-pouch recently.

It wasn't easy, but I repelled Keith's mind and kind of stuffed it back into the underwear. When I continued my walk, I didn't even notice that I know walked like a man: With long, powerful strides and enough room for my balls.

Luckily, my cock had calmed down a bit by now, and I ran the rest of the way, just to make sure. I was glistening with more sweat when I finally arrived at Jerry's apartment and rang the bell. Ugh. That musk was so bad, I just hoped I could hop under the shower right away.

However, when Jerry opened the door, we were both stunned for a moment. I because Jerry looked even better in reality than when I imagined him. Foreign hormones flooded my system, coming from my balls and I just stood there for a moment. Of course, I had a crush on Jerry before, but right now, in this moment, I realized for the first time that now, Jerry wasn't quite as unreachable as before.

Jerry, on the other hand, backed away, an expression of fear on his face.

"Keith, what... Is this some kind of joke?"

I was taken aback by his reaction.

"No! It's not... It's me, Mathilda!"

"Who?"

"Mathilda, your best friend."

Jerry stared at me, confusion on his face.

"What are you talking about Keith? Wasn't it enough for you to bash my face in? Do you want to humiliate me now?"

"No, please. Listen, Jerry, you're my friend, and I would never hurt you."

He scoffed. "Oh really? My black eye says otherwise."

I could feel myself getting upset from all the testosterone and took a deep breath.

"I can explain. Please, Jerry, hear me out."

He looked at me skeptically.

"Fine. I'll listen."

With that, he let me into his apartment.

"Okay, first of all, can I take off these gym shorts? They are really really disgusting and sweaty, and they are clinging to my legs. Yuck!"

"Uh, oookay." Jerry looked even more confused but allowed it.

Gladly, I got rid of the stinking shorts and threw them at the ground, far away from me. Jerry frowned but was apparently more captured by my now only jockstrap-clad body that I sat down on his couch. I admit I wanted to get rid of the jockstrap, too, but then I would have been completely naked in my friend's living room.

The thought was oddly exciting, and I felt my cock raise in reaction.

I just hoped that Jerry wouldn't notice my state of arousal, even though there wasn't much fabric left to hide it, but I quickly spoke.

"So, Jerry, it's really me. Remember the time when we watched Star Trek: Voyager and had a pillow fight, and you beat me easily, even though I am taller and stronger?"

"How would you know about that, Keith?" Jerry crossed his arms. He had obviously noticed my midsection problem, which was throbbing now, leading to another wet spot on the piece of underwear.

"I'm telling you, I am Ma..."

Suddenly, I grabbed my head. There it was again. Keith had reacted to my arousal and was fighting for control of *my* body again. It was weaker this time, though, and although it took me a few moments, I pushed him back between my legs, where he belonged.

Finally, I spread my legs, man-spreading without even thinking about it and giving the whole world in general and Jerry in particular a good view of my massive groin. A smirk formed on my face. Having such a big cock was something to be proud of.

"...Mathilda." I finished my sentence, although I found the name rather unfitting for a stud like me. "I just kind of... transformed into Keith's body, but it's still the same old man as always. Woman, I mean."

"Uh... what?"

I smiled and stood up, slowly, so he could see all the muscles I had gained. I was taller, too, taller than Jerry even.

"But tell me, do you like what you see?" My cock was throbbing like mad now. God, I needed to have this man!

"Uuuh... uhm... yes? Yes."

I chuckled. "Well, Jerry. I don't know how to get back to my original body yet, but do you want to... touch this one?" I gently took his hand and placed it on my chest.

Jerry didn't react at first, but then he started caressing my chest. It felt great, and he moaned, too.

Another small spurt of precum spilled into my underwear and again, Keith acted up. It was even weaker this time, and I had no trouble staying in control. I did notice something else though. Apparently, Keith was enjoying this a lot, way more than a straight man should. He was almost addicted to my cock fluids by now, and he mentally lapped at my organ submissively. And he exhibited a longing for Jerry that appeared to be too deep-rooted to have developed recently. Well, good for him, because as my jockstrap, he would have a front row seat in what happened next.

"Mathilda, is it really... okay?" Jerry asked, barely being able to restrain himself.

"Yes Jerry." I said while looking into his eyes. "It's more than okay. It's perfect. And it's Matthew from now on, okay?"

I took a deep breath, breathing in my wonderful musky smell, and I watched Jerry do the same. And when I kissed him, I couldn't wait to tear his clothes off and plow his cute little ass with my mighty cock while my lucky jockstrap was watching.

[callmebrycelee]

I've been mulling this over for the last few days and I figured I'd just put what I'm thinking out there in hopes that someone will understand what I'm coming from. I'm reading a wonderful fanfic where Buck leaves the 118 and goes to work at Air Operations. He is paired with Tommy and the two of them strike up a friendship and an eventual romance. I'm only a few chapters into the story and there's a conversation where Buck and Tommy are relaying their backstories to each other. Buck talks about getting crushed by the fire engine, the subsequent surgery and setback, and him suing the LAFD. Tommy talks about his time in the Army and ultimately joining the 118. He goes into vivid detail about every single awful thing he did to Chimney and Hen. He ends the story by telling Buck that even though the Chimney and Hen chose to forgave him, he can't quite move past his guilt and works hard daily to become a better person. The thing I've been mulling over is the concept of white guilt and how it often triumphs over forgiveness extended by people of color. I find this so funny because even when people of color, esepcially Black people, are at their most vulnerable and open, whiteness still finds a way to be greater than.

Now I'm not here to excuse any of what Tommy did during his time at the 118, but I have to admit that the majority of the people I have seen taking umbrage with Tommy and his behavior, even after he has been forgiven by those whom he offended, and even after he has taken strides to change, are white, non-queer individuals. And before we making this a B*ddie versus BuckTommy situation, I have seen individuals from both sides of the fence taking Tommy to task.

Before I jump into my thoughts on this, let me just say that I'm a Black man. I'm also a queer man. Most importantly I'm a Black queer man and let me tell you a little something about poor behavior from white people. It happens so much and so frequent that oftentimes I don't even see it happening until I am allowed to have a moment to process and reflect. With that said, quite a few of my close friends and acquaintances are white and all of them at some point have said or done something deliberately or accidentally offensive to me. Now not all Black and/or queer people are a monolift so let me make this very clear right now. I am speaking on behalf of myself and myself only.

Now that I've gotten out of the way, I will say that in any and all cases where I have been offended, my forgiveness is more for myself than the other person. Forgiveness is something I do to protect my peace. I fundamentally understand how whiteness works here in America and I understand how it operates. You don't get to half 39 years as a Black queer person without learning this. Especialy living in the the south. I also realize that at the apex of whiteness is the white, straight male and whether we realize it or not, we all, for the most part, at some point, seek proximity to him. You see this happen with white women, with Black men, and evenwith gay white men. In fact, the only group you don't tend to see this with is Black queer women and I believe this is because they are truly the antithesis of the white apex.

With that said, any time my friends or acquaintances have behaved badly, especially towards me, especially regarding my race and/or sexuality, I understand where that energy comes from. I really do. And, if we are being truly transparent here, there have been moments in my younger existence where I actively participated in the oppression of Black women and queer people. I, too, was a Tommy who hid myself by participating in the toxicity directed towards queer people. And yes, I felt tremendous guilt for my actions when I had time to reflect.

Here is the thing people forget about guilt. Much like grief, guilt ebbs and flows, and it doesn't really go away. What happens, or what should happen, is that your world gets bigger and bigger to the point where that grief or that guilt doesn't occupy as much space. That's exactly what I believe has happened to Tommy Kinard. Yes, he still feels bad about what he did to his friends back then (and he should) but his world has gotten so much bigger since then. That guilt that was once a loud roar is hopefully only a whisper now because he has done the work to understand why he behaved the way he did and has taken strides to be a better version of himself.

So, to all the white, non-queer individuals out there who have been taking Tommy to task for things he did a long time ago, things he's been forgiven of a long time ago, parts of himself that he has made better, ask yourself this one simple question. Why should my guilt (white guilt) be bigger than the forgiveness provided to him by those he offended? Second question I would ask you to ask yourself. Why am I demanding that Tommy actively punish himself and be punished for something he has already been forgiven of? When you answer that question, there is one last question I want you to ask yourself. Why am I feeling guilty and projecting that guilt onto someone else?

Again, I am not excusing any of what Tommy Kinard said or did during that time of his life. I just find it strange that so many of you are condemining him of something he once did when you should be asking yourself, am I actively participating in the oppression of those around me. There's a 99.9% chance you are so maybe focus on your own garden before you start asking others to clean up theirs. Also, for those of you coming at this from the angle of, well we didn't see Hen and Chimney forgive him. So what! Unless you have a camera following you around 24/7, no one will ever get to see you be forgiven of the fucked up stuff you've been doing. Most of all, stop projecting onto fictional characters. It's weird. Okay, those are my thoughts. Do what with them what you wish. As always, these are my opinions.

[shaylogic]

Okay analyzing George and Jayden's favorite scene (in case of 2 dead dragons, "I don't want to be a bad guy!")

I saw a post talking about how Edwin turns up Charles' collar and how that is an acceptable Edwardian share of physical touch between men.

Additionally, you could see it as him helping re-establish Charles' Cool Guy confidence with the popped collar look, when he's feeling vulnerable.

Even more so, I was thinking about Edwin bringing a warm lantern to a cold boy in an attic, and now he's bracing him against the night with the collar's warmth.

~~~

Besides the collar part of this scene, something I've been paying attention to across other scenes is how the friend group directs their attention of listening to and helping support each other.

For example, I already wrote in this post about how Charles actually started to open up to her before the kissing scene about his anger, but she doesn't quite pick up the significance and gets distracted with her issues with David.

That same night after the night nurse violence, Edwin tells Charles he can confide in him, and Charles responds with the polite shield of essentially "same, mate" rather than opening up to him.

Charles' whole thing is about not being able to be vulnerable about himself and to focus on making things easier on others (because his abusive dad trained that into him)

So it's interesting in the collar scene that after they hug and Charles immediately moves the focus to Edwin "what are you worried about, then? " ("how can I help you with what you're going through?"), Edwin responds in avoidant gay panic about Cat King/Charles stuff "Let's get you sorted first"

And!!!!!!

Please rewatch Charles' face journey throughout this scene

He is in the habit of putting others first, and people are all too happy to receive the help. Think again about the scene in the first episode when Jenny tells Crystal that people all focus on themselves. Maybe you get a good day when they think of you for a second and then it's back to them.

Crystal is still working through not remembering how toxic she became in response to her own parents, and she still got some habits of focusing on herself as Jenny points out that she can't begin to recognize and work on yet because she doesn't get her memories back until the end of the season.

Edwin is also preoccupied with his gay panic, so his response to Charles in the collar scene was avoidance, like Crystal not quite recognizing her rare opportunity of Charles opening up to her when he hadn't even done that with Edwin.

I think Edwin and Crystal equally didn't quite fully catch on to Charles' needs, but Edwin accidentally did the right thing in returning the focus to Charles.

Charles seems surprised, but grateful. You can see in Jayden's acting that Charles leaves that exchange feeling a little more seen and loved.

[malewifesband]

sure you can do what you want with your trans headcanons but dont you want to explore the themes of the work. dont you want to see characters who actually have experiences like yours be the ones who are like you. laios' experience is simply not a transmasculine one, but it is a very, very transfeminine one

laios feels rejected by other men, bullied relentlessly by then as a child in all-male settings, and seems to feel safer with women BUT also feels innately like a predator around them (always keeping physical distance, terrified that others would even THINK he was attracted to marcille). he does everything in his power to seem safer and smaller and models much of his body language after like cute girls (i dont have the panel on hand, but the way he plays with the rim of his plate and then shyly looks up while pouting his lip when asking marcille if she wanted to stay on the island instead of go to jail is one example, but theres a lot. a lot.). hes envious of and idolizes his sister, sees her as more deserving of life than him. all these themes together are a very transfeminine themed character: the desire to become a monster (and even more his desire to become a dog) speaks to a desire to shed more his manhood than humanity outright. being a man specifically seems to limit him

there are a number of characters with more transmaculine themes. senshis desire to be a man in his own way, without the need for 'iron in his veins' (also very gay). chilchucks (and all halffoots) adoption of toxic masculine traits in order to 'pass' as a grown man when people refuse to see him as such, despite the damage it does to himself and to the women he loves. Kabrus feeling that he's just his foster mother's doll + the thing where a little girl who looks just like him sees the dungeon opening. falins tendency to go with whatever others want for her until she is fused with a (male) dragon and suddenly finding that she knows what she wants and is willing to assert herself to get it. lycions whole allegorical transition and the very firm assertion that he is a man in the adventurers bible despite being quite manly for an elf already. izutsumi reads the same both transmaculinely and transfemininely. otta, tbh. wont get into that one.

laios i think only makes sense as a transfeminine character

[alphajocklover]

I've grown....tired of my life. Like, it's the same pointless thing day after day. Caring so much about making the world better. I work a sad little non profit. Living in the big city and making little money. I haven't been on a date with a gay in over a year. Straight guys have it so much easier. Sometimes I wish I was more like them...dumb... obnoxious and loud...always having some crude joke....hehe....that'd be fun...to be some loudmouth hot as hell straight comedian or some famous straight actor who could get away with whatever he wanted because he was dumb, hot and young. Like maybe a lean muscular dude or a big bodybuilding buff guy. It wouldn't matter just as long as you make me some obnoxious hot straight asshole.

You say you’re tired of your life… but I don’t think tired is the right word. The word tired suggests you‘ve used up all your energy, that you’ve reached the end of your endurance and need to stop. That’s not what’s happening here. You aren’t tired, you’re restless. It’s not that you’ve used up all your energy, it’s that you haven’t used any of it. You’ve been standing still, living the same life the same way for too long now, and now all that energy you were supposed to be using to be a real man has built up so much you’re about to burst, and as silly as it sounds I’m not speaking in metaphors. Masculinity has its own, literal, actual energy.

Not much is known about it. It’s been called a number of things throughout the years, one of the best known and crudest nicknames being ‘Big Dick Energy’. But what we do know is that it’s real, and you’ve built up quite a lot of it. That happens sometimes, when someone generates said energy but doesn’t actually use it by doing anything manly. See, every guy generates some, jocks generate a lot, sissys generate a little, and most people use just as much as they generate. But not you. You haven’t been using any of your energy, so it’s built up inside you and now… it’s going to burst out. From what you’ve told me it seems like you’re already experiencing the first symptoms. An urge to act manly, toxic and obnoxious. But that’s just the beginning. Soon the buildup will become too much, and it’ll take over.

The transformation will be almost instant. You’ll beef up, dumb down, and lose yourself in pure, toxic masculinity. It’ll come off of you in waves, and you’ll feel like it’s the greatest high of your life. But like every high it won’t last forever. Eventually, probably after a few weeks of fucking sluts and beating up nerds, you’ll run out of energy and go back to you’re regular self, probably confused and strangely horny. That doesn’t mean you’ll never see your straight douchebag self again. Once you’re overloaded by masculine energy once, it’s easier for it to happen again. Not only that, the next time it happens it’ll happen longer.

You could try to keep it from happening again. Do something manly regularly, something simple like watching sports or working out. Or you could let it happen again. Keep turning into a straight jock for longer and longer, until eventually you completely overload on it and end up like that permanently. Whatever choice you make, I’m sure you won’t be tired of your life anymore.

[dragonlands]

There's so much negativity around Izzy's death so I wanted to address some of the points I keep seeing thrown around.

"Izzy's death was pointless"

No, he just had his big speech about how basically they can kill him but they cannot kill the movement. That is a clear paraller to a lot of real life protestors of unjustice. He died protecting the community, he died so the community could go on.

"Izzy's death made his healing pointless"

No it didn't. Healing is always good, feeling happiness and belonging are ALWAYS worth it. We never know how long we've got, doesn't mean we gotta stop trying to be better or happier. His healing was still real. It still mattered.

"Izzy's character arc was left unfinished, it's bad writing"

Oh my god. If you open any writing guide about how to write impactful deaths, and the first thing that comes up is to leave some part of their arc unfinished. And his arc did go through quite a beautiful line, sure there could've been more but his story didn't end like, mid arc. As a writer, of course you want to make the audience sad when a character dies. It's good storytelling. Good stories are supposed to make us feel.

"Izzy died on the arms of his abuser"

Where the hell did this idea come from? Ed and Izzy have been in a toxic codependent relationship way before this show started. You could argue that Izzy was Ed's abuser, but that is not the argument I want to make here. Yes, we saw Ed driven to madness shoot Izzy on screen, but we know Izzy's the one that forced him to be Blackbeart when he didn't want it anymore. There's turmoil all around them. But the final moment is them finally meeting as people, not as components of Blackbeard.

"Izzy's death was unnecessarily awful"

His death was sad, yes, but it was quite beautiful as far as deaths go. He was surrounded by family who cared for him. He was loved, and accepted as he is. He knew his legacy will be carried on.

"They killed off the only character that showed us healing is never too late"

Did we watch the same show? That begins with then unhappy 40+ year old Stede deciding it's finally time to reach for his dreams? Where we see Blackbeard slowly gaining back his humanity? Where Black Pete starts off as toxically masculine dude but ends up in a soft gay marriage? Where most of the crew wanted to mutiny but then they realized being soft is good, actually. Jim's whole purpose in life being revenge but them learning to let that go and instead concentrate on love and fun and family. And so on. Izzy's arc is beautiful, but he's not the only person healing who thought it was too late already.

"Izzy's death was bury your gays trope"

No, what, no. In a pirate show where everyobody is queer some queer people will die. Bury your gays is about only having one or few queer characters and killing them off while the straights get their happily ever afters. This is so far from that.

Also, I want people to be aware of the phenomenon, where creators of diverse shows are subjected to more critism than those of non diverse shows. If this intrests you, Sarah Z on Youtube made a great video on it called Double standards and diverse media. Our flag means death has given us so much, queer love story with a happily ever after, finding community, nonbinary character. And the creators have always been so kind to fans, so let's show them tht kindness back. Because critizicing this one aspect can easily turn to seeming like the whole story is just unwanted. That stories like Ed and Stede's aren't worth telling. And I'm so aftraid that will happen, when just now for the first time in years we are finally getting queer stories.

Also, I understand people are sad. I am sad too - Izzy was an amazing character and his death was sad but that's just. Good writing. You can grieve, but trying to turn it into a moral or dramaturgy issue is just not a good look. And attacking the creators of this wonderful show is just horrible.

Remember - this fandom is a safe space ship 🏴‍☠️🏳️‍��

[cosmicpoutine]

leaving a lil rant here :]

I love Tim and his ships sm. Me personally, I only really ship TimKon. Those two are perfect for eachother and have so much clear queer coding that it’s crazy, and they have dialogue that’s just. gay shaped.

I also get TimBart, I don’t ship it romantically but I get why people do!! Tim and Bart are close as well, and the balance they get between ‘depressed tired wet cat’ and ‘living breathing embodiment of adhd’ is great.

I also get TimBartKon, they’re a trio. They are always a trio, so many people like to bring up how TimKon has so much coding and one of the big examples they use is when Tim tried to clone Kon. You know who else he tried to clone? Bart.

The only Tim ship I don’t get is TimBern, or any ship involving those two. When Bernard first appears, he’s Tim’s bully. He actively makes fun of tim and puts him down and then that character is forgotten about until Tim comes out as bi, then they just rework his character and go “haha guys this is his boyfriend not bully ygs are crazy” and just forget about all the bad stuff Bernard did? Reworking a character is great and all but, it just feels a bit weird and out of place for me. There’s always going to be that certain toxicity for TimBern, at least for me.

homie... bully??? im flabbergasted- im speechless- im jason todd (dead)

okay, im gonna start off by saying you have all the right to not ship them, and im not here to defend timbern as a ship. im here to defend BERNARD DOWD.

first thing bernard does is give tim advice about teachers, and he clearly says they're gonna be good friends.

if bernard was a bully, tim wouldn't hang around him so much. besides, i hate it when people place tim as a helpless little boy who would get bullied. he has put himself in situations where he looks weak on purpose to keep his identity safe, but he's not a victim at all. tim is a social butterfly because he's really good at masking and reading people.

not to mention, both bernard and darla push tim a lot because they're trying to get him to open up and be closer to them, but he keeps pushing them away. tim is a professional liar.

and when tim has to quit robin and start hanging out with normal people, he invites bernard over.

and bernard is acting relatively normal, and he wants to play video games and talk about how hot tim's stepmom is.

bernard is a normal teenager who has no idea one of his friends is the hero he's so obsessed with. he even shows concern for robin dying and makes up an entire conspiracy theory about batman havin a robin orphanage. you can tell he's afraid of robin being gone for real because at this point they haven't seen robin in months bc tim retired.

i dont know what about all of these interactions gave you the vibe that he's a bully because all i see is a normal teenager teasing his friends and being jealous tim gets more bitches.

im not saying that bernard was never mean or weird around tim, but he definitely wasn't actively bullying tim.

bernard is obnoxious and cocky, yes. but thats just because they wrote him as a real person. he's the school's chameleon, maybe even a little bit of a loser, too. he knows everyone but keeps a safe distance so that he doesn't get pushed into a box. im not sure if, at this point, he was already in a cult or being indoctrinated, but when we see his parents and the dowd home in tim drake: robin that just doesn't look right.

also homie talk about "forgetting all the bad things bernard did" (which in my opinion is none but okay lets follow that logic) everyone forget about all the bad things batman did to tim, he was not a kind and loving mentor, he was cruel to both tim and steph. we forget that batman was kind of an asshole to damien in the beginning. all those things are forgotten for the sake of the batfam.

in conclusion: we're just so used to the idea that superheroes can only ever form strong friendship bonds by having near death experiences together that we forget that the secret identifies exist and that the people who know them by their legal name also means a lot to them. after all, these people are the reason why they're heroes.