#wonder if he’d eat out a trans guy……

[transk0vsky]

I think 90s Casey sucked some guys off in a punk clubs bathroom using a gloryhole

[sooniebby]

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫

𝗪𝗲𝗲𝗸 𝟯: 𝘃𝗮𝗺𝗽𝗶𝗿𝗲/𝗲𝗱𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴/𝗯𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗮𝗴𝗲

Bottom trans male reader. Reader’s lower part is called interchangeable: cunt, pussy, clit, folds, heat, hole. No mention of anything feminine. Reader has had top surgery.

“Is… the rope necessary?”

You were dressed in your Halloween costume, a very simple makeshift murder victim. A tired white shirt with fake blood splattered all over it. Jeans that you purposely tore and also splashed some blood on it.

The real “kill wound” in your costume was a fake slit throat that you had. It was starting to feel itchy on your neck after being at this party for over two hours now. The blood on your face had uncomfortably dried up a bit that you just wanted to wash it off.

The guy you were with, inside some random room. You didn’t really know who owned the house. You were just here for free drinks and candy.

He was dressed pretty bland compared to you.

Just a nice dress shirt and dress pants. You wondered why he’d wear something so nice to a college party like this.

His white shirt was unbuttoned now, letting you see his chest a bit better. Which was nice as you were currently being tied up. He wrapped the rope around your chest and shoulders, leaning it down to circle around your hands.

He was slow and methodical, making sure it was tight but not too tight. You were a bit too drunk to complain about him taking too long. Hey, if he needed bondage to get off, so be it!

“W..what are you anyway? Such a boring costume..”

He glanced up at you and smirked. You saw the faintest sight of fangs. Ah, vampire.

Eh, he could’ve done better.

You yawned, getting comfortable on the bed. Wow, this bed was so soft. All that alcohol was making you a bit sleepy. And this bed wasn’t helping you.

With a jolt, you glanced down at the man as you felt himself slap your thigh. He didn’t say anything, just finishing his touches on your bondage. You could still move your legs and if you tried hard enough—you could slip your hands free though it would hurt your wrists to do so.

“Are… you going to speak?” You whisper, watching him move down to your jeans. He glanced up at you and with a smile, turns his attention back to your pants.

You spread your legs open to give him space as he.. quite literally tears your jeans apart?!

You cry out in shock, sobering up a bit at the sound of tearing jeans.

“D..dude?! What the fuck..?”

He paid you no mind as he reached your boxers and also teared that open. Fuck, he was going to ruin your clothes to bits at this point. You squirmed a bit, wondering just what the fuck you were going to do after this with no pants or boxers.

You watched as he leaned close to your legs and began to kiss it. His kisses were wet as he trailed down to your wet heat that was beginning to ache to be kissed itself.

His fangs.. which.. felt real in a way, teased your skin. You grunted, wishing you could just reach down and tangle your hands in his curls but your hands were tied.

“Jeez… those fangs of yours feel.. real, man.”

He stopped for a moment and glanced up. His eyes just staring at you before looking down as he pressed a soft kiss on your inner thigh. You couldn’t help but giggle a bit at the softness.

Why weren’t most one night stands this nice?

You gasp as you felt his kisses on your pussy this time. He was soft—just pressing kisses on your folds while one of his hands teased your clit.

“E…mhm.. ever eat… cat before?” You drunkly joke.

He looked up at you unimpressed. You pout. Hmph, this guy just didn’t know what a good joke was.

His breath was really the only sound you ever heard from him. But you wanted him to talk. So badly but you didn’t know how to get him. You had come up to this room with him because of his teasing on your waist and you thought he’d start flirting with you.

But no, just started binding you.

“Name..?” You muttered, thinking maybe he’d be nice enough to tell you.

But he didn’t. He leaned in and began to lick your pussy, slow and methodically once more. You flinch, your legs accidentally closing on his head. He grunted in discomfort and moved his hands to grab your legs and force them apart.

You couldn’t help but feel a bit happy.

You got him to grunt!

That’s something..

He was sucking and licking your heat with a sense of ownership—eyes staring straight at you as he watched you try to move your hands against the bondage. Your lips were parting constantly as moans left your throat, filling the room.

You couldn’t really help yourself that you began to try and ride his face. He didn’t seem to mind as he allowed you to do so. You whimper and whine, his nose was a bit good to ride on.

Huh, maybe you should stick to sleeping with man with long noses.

The drunk thought leaves your mind when he pulls away. You whine and pout at him, wondering why he’d pull away. His lower face and nose was wet from your slick but he didn’t seem to care at the moment.

He reached down and pulled open his pants, his cock slipping out. You blinked in shock. Holy fuck, that cock was huge.

Maybe.. eight inches?! Jesus, what type of man needs eight inches???

You glance down and watch as he grips his cock and rests it against your cunt. He gently rubbed his cock between your folds, earning a sharp gasp from you.

You were biting your lip in excitement—even if the thought of such a large cock was scary.

But he didn’t slip inside of you.

His cock began to rub against your pussy, getting between your slick folds. He reached down with his free hand and placed it on your hips, gripping it tightly as a way to keep you still.

“W…c’mon… inside~” you whined.

He continued his thrusting against your folds, his cock constantly rubbing against your clit. His grunts began to fill the room, overpowering your moaning.

You felt as if you were being used.. but honestly it made you excited.

You just wished he said something to you.

Praise. Degradation. Something!

Much to your shock, his cock began to cum. He moved his cock between your folds and cummed right near your hole—teasing you with the thought of him pushing his cock inside and just filling you with cum.

He pulled away after a second and reached down, scooping up the cum that was dripping from your pussy and fingering it inside. You began to squirm and twitch, hips thrusting upwards as you cried out.

Finally… something inside!

But then he pulled away.. again!

“F…fuck you! I wanna cum, man!” You grunted, wishing you could just reach down and make yourself cum.

He simply smirked and patted your stomach before pulling away. You watched in shock as he buttoned up his shirt and pants and… left.

He fucking left.

You panicked a bit, wondering what the hell were you supposed to do now?! As you shuffled around the bed, trying to force your hand out of the bondage, the door opened again.

He was back.. with water and a bowl of grapes.

He sits down on the bed and makes you sit up but makes no effort to untie you. You part your lips and gladly accept the water, humming at the cool drink blessing your dried throat.

Huh, you didn’t notice that.

His lips pulled into a smile as you saw you begin to feel comfortable once more. Once the water was finished, he grabbed the bowl of grapes and began to feed them to you.

He was.. taking care of you? Oh, this was nice.

You hummed in delight, starting to feel sleepy again after being mildly taken care of.

“You.. do this with everyone you fuck?”

He didn’t answer. Stupid man. He placed the empty bowl on the night stand and made you lay back down again. Getting between your legs, he pulled down his cock.

You didn’t know if eating and then fucking so quick was smart but eh, you were still a bit too drunk to truly care about that.

He leaned over you, staring over you as a smirk pulled on his lips. Staring at his teeth you began to notice his fangs were a bit too real. It looked as if they came straight from his gums.

“You.. must’ve put most of your money into the fangs, huh?”

He raised an eyebrow, as if in a way telling you that you’re wrong. You gasped at the feeling of his cock pushing inside of your tight heat. His cock was stretching you but you couldn’t help but sigh in relief—happy to fully be fucked.

His thrusts were different from his other one. No longer slow and methodical. He was like a beast, his hips slamming into you as you squirmed and cried. Your cunt tightened around his cock with each thrust.

“S…so good! Fuck.”

You cummed in no time, arching your back as you screamed out. But he didn’t stop, his thrusts were even faster now—forcing you to squirm as your body was being forced to cum again so quickly.

You could’ve sworn you were squirting at this point.

But he hasn’t cummed.

And he wouldn’t cum for a few minutes as your body got tired from the constant and back to back squirting. Your body was limp by now, your pussy lightly clenching at this point. The only sound leaving you was soft little whimpers.

You couldn’t even speak properly now.

He leaned down, pressing kisses on your throat. You hoped he was close soon, your body couldn’t handle another orgasm. His teeth grazed your throat as he moved down right where your shoulder and neck connected.

And he bit.

You screamed out, spasming against his body that held you down to the bed. This wasn’t just a simple bite, his teeth—no fangs, pierced your skin.

“W…h…!”

Any sort of pain you felt was soon pleasurable. You began to softly moan, trying to move your hand but still not able to. He continued to drink.. just like a vampire before pulling away after a few seconds.

His lips were stained with your blood, turning them red in color. A few drops slipped down his chin and his eyes were blood red. He reached down and gently rubbed the spot his bit, giving a bit of comfort for it.

You felt something warm inside of you now… oh, he came. His cock slipped out of you as white cum slowly dripped out of your aching hole. Your breathing was light and soft…

You somehow felt content.

He grinned down at you. His black curly hair was no longer neatly laid like before. You tried to truly look at him now but all you could do was whine about the ropes still bonding you.

He pulled the bondage off and began to rub your wrists, pressing a kiss on the mark it left on your skin. His eyes trailed your body. The only thing you had left was your shirt.

“You…you’re….?”

He smirked.

“B…wh..?”

He hummed and walked over to the closet in the room. He pulled out a long coat from it and wrapped it around your body. Much to your surprise, he picked you up easily.

You whimper but glance up at him, wondering what he was thinking.

“Y…you..? Wh.. a… college..?”

He looked at you thoughtfully as if he was actually thinking why he, a vampire, came to a college Halloween party. But he simply shrugged. He looked close to your age, but perhaps now getting a better look, three to four years older.

Physically at least.. who knew how old he was mentally.

“Wh…ere..?” You mutter, starting to feel so tired. But you weren’t sure why.

“Home.”

Your eyes open in shock as you stared up at him. His voice was nice and velvet. So smooth and deep. You wanted him to keep talking. Please, keep talking.

“Sleep. You were good… so I decided…”

He leaned down a bit to your ears, gently nipping it as you hummed, snuggling a bit in his arms.

“To keep you forever.”

Realistically, that was such a fucking scary thing to say. An immortal being taking you forever.

But.. you were drunk and happily satisfied by sex you knew no one else could possibly give you.

How long was forever anyway…?

Eh, you only meet a sexy vampire once.

You get it? He edged you with his cock and his voice… a true edger… does that make sense? Lol, anyway, hope this was sexy enough cuz he doesn’t talk basically at all! Why he doesn’t talk..? Don’t ask, I just thought it’d be sexy

Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @nakedtoasterr @smellwell @tehyunnie @ofclyde @chill-guy-but-cooler @iwishtobeacrow @remdayz @mello-life69 @kiiyoooo @kaedezu @tomoeroi

[randomsufff]

HEHAHBFKI More South Park doodles I think I’m going insane.

Actually this is kind of the product of me being liking South Park way back in high school but was too embarrassed to draw them when I was bored in class and now it’s all kinda flooding back 💀

Read below if you want to know more about my New Kid and my thoughts behind some of the doodles cause this turned out longer then I though 💀

Anyways- introducing my New Kid. No name cause I literally have no idea. Whatever the cannon name is ig- though I’d think it’d be funny if she was referred to New Kid by literally everyone like in game. I like the idea that a lot of people have with their New Kids that they liked the makeover section with the girls during the Stick of Truth a little too much. I also like it cause… uh… I didn’t play Stick of Truth. (The combat system is not my cup of tea) So it’s not until the start of TFBW does she know shes really a girl.

To give context to the top right drawing- I couldn’t remember the dialogue Wendy says in the alleyway if you say you’re a trans girl- but I do know what she says if your a cis girl (I always knew you were a girl) cause I did a second play through as a cis girl. And I don’t know if there’s supposed to be a huge time jump between the end of Stick of Truth and TFBW but I think it would be funny if it was just the next day- so combine these two fact to get “Wendy always clocked New Kid as a girl but NK just found out yesterday 💀”

Anyways- she’s such a cutie, I love her and her cool superhero outfit I gave her. Outside of the game- I’d like to think of her basically exactly how she acts in game. Mostly non-verbal, with the occasional zingy one liner, and just kinda goes along with the crazy shit the happens in South Park un phased. Like if she was in a episode- the plot would happen and she would be on screen, but wouldn’t say anything, and anytime another character would address her, they’d respond however as if she spoke lmao. Aroace, just like me, so she’s just friends with everyone (except Cartman) and vibes with everyone.

The mini Style comic I though of cause 1) I wondered if Kyle had the same elf ears as the other elfs did in game (again, never played and it’s been a while since I saw gameplay so whoops if it’s confirmed or whatever) and 2) I thought it would be funny if Stan was caught lacking and tried to /rp his way out of it (I wanted to add an extra bit where Kyle would be like “Oh, are our characters gay for each other??? (ARE YOU /SRS OR /J STAN)” and Stan would have to just “yes, and” his way out.)

The last three images were kinda of a stream of consciousness put on paper and made neat lol. I really like showing that all the costumes the kids wear are homemade and stuff- either stuff taken from their parents or visibly taped together etc- cause I think it’s charming. Anyways- I though Kyle’s little robe could be like one of his parents bath robe- and it would be a little too long for him to run without eating shit so he’d have to hike it up like a skirt/dress. Which lead to me thinking that Cartman would say some shit about that and how Kyle, who has a literal Golf Club, would smack his ass up. Which then lead to me thinking about how since Kyle’s the Elf King and Stan’s basically his right hand how he might lift it up wedding dress style if needed (/RP GUYS, RIGHT?RIGHT???) and how Cartman would react, which lead to that one JoJo meme cause thats literally how they’d retaliate.

Always- I’ll probably have at least one more post about South Park I swear. There was a period of time before I stopped watching (I gotta pick it up again) where I would doodle a bit of whatever was happening in the episode, each episode. Crazy I know, but not only did it improve my drawing skills but it helped me remember what actually happened in episodes cause I have shit memory and definitely don’t remember some of the episodes I watched. So I might redraw some of those- see if anyone can tell what episode they’re from.

[izgnanik-a]

Some more trans Ghoap? Previous fic link here

Thank you to the lovely anon who loved it so much to send me an ask for more in the funniest way. I love that you loved it.

Cw: mutual pining, sexual tension, fingering, toys, semi-public sex, more frotting, slight dom/sub, Johnny’s a pleasure dom, ftm!Simon

// Don’t like?? Don’t read // MDNI //

Having Johnny’s number meant the ball was in Simon’s court to contact him. He gave him his number because they’d had a good night, a great night even, though it was embarrassingly short.

Simon ran through his thoughts the morning soon after, realizing he probably seemed so pathetic. Cumming from humping this guy with clothes on, and then falling asleep??

He needed to move out of town ASAP.

Simon let a few days pass, anxiously eyeing the note every time he’d sit in his living room, or even staring at it from the kitchen. He’d stand at the counter, eyeing the vibrant thing until it imprinted into his mind.

What harm would come from texting Johnny back? He obviously showed interest in Simon, regardless of their night together.

And they hadn’t even gotten to the good part where Johnny’s hands would be all over him. Didn’t even get to the part where Johnny’s mouth was supposed to run through the folds of his cunt.

Fucking idiot.

Simon finally sat at the coffee table, a full week later, the night of the club event again, sticky note in hand, phone in the other. He contemplated if any of this was a good idea; bringing a stranger to his own apartment was risky but so was going to someone’s house.

But he was apparently desperate, and had no other options but a big Scottish guy who was a dirty talker and good with shoving his tongue down Simon’s throat.

He input the number into his contacts, sitting with a draft message open in front of him. He didn’t know what to say. Sup? Hey? It’s Simon? Nothing. He was so embarrassed by their last encounter that he would rather never show his face at the club again, never call.

Simon bit his tongue as he sent a shotty text of hey, and stared at the screen. He’d make himself a cup of tea, take a shower, let the message linger before he’d return to it.

The moment his hand touched the kettle —

DING.

He stared across the room to his phone on the table from the kitchen doorway. He clutched his hands into fists before moving for it. Staring at the lock screen, he eyed the message.

Took u long enough.

Simon paused, plucking it up. Do you even know if you’re texting the right person? He watched the bubbles appear and disappear.

I’m sure I am. ;)

Simon began to wonder just how many people Johnny had wooed like this at the club. How many people had fallen in Simon’s exact steps. There was technically no ulterior motive besides getting fucked — so there was no harm in playing the game, right?

Simon humored. Okay then — what color are my eyes?

There was a long pause, long enough for Simon’s kettle to whistle. His phone chirped.

Blue.

Lucky guess. Simon sat down on the couch. Half of England has blue eyes.

Then don’t ask stupid questions. Ur smarter than this. He replied.

Simon was taken aback. Johnny was blunt, but not overly critical. Maybe this wasn’t Johnny. He leaned forward in his seat. Fine. He sent. What’d we do when we left the club?

It would come out in truth whether or not Johnny was a one person at a time kind of guy, or if he really thought that Simon was just some stupid bloke.

We went back to urs, and u fucked urself on my hip. I told u how much of a good boy u were, and u came in ur pants before I could eat u out.

Simon didn’t want to show his face at the club so he skipped this week. He received a text from Johnny asking where he was, when he had lied and said he was going out with a friend, he had received a “ :( “ and “ be safe .”

The next day he received a good morning text and a soft looking selfie from Johnny; the orange hue of sunlight came in through his bedroom, dark grey sheets and blankets, his hair ruffled, sleep in his eyes. He was shirtless, tattoos creeping where the camera couldn’t fully see. But Simon outlined the roundness of his cheeks, the cushion of his chest, the absolute beauty of this man.

God — he could touch himself raw.

He sent a flimsy good morning message back, and proceeded with his day. Dinner came, and Johnny sent another photo. He was sat by candlelight, face red, and a wine glass in front of him being the culprit. His chin was leaned on his palm, pouty frown on his face.

Wish u were here.

Simon felt flushed. This man was lusting after him, and he was just feeding Johnny scraps. What would he even do if he had Johnny in front of him again?

Simon sent, how much have you had to drink?

Enough. Came back almost too quickly.

Are you driving home? Simon wondered who Johnny had gone out with. Was it with his friends? Another date? Another—?

Another date would have to reference to having gone on a date with Johnny. Simon hadn’t ever gone out with him. Only used him as a scratching post to get his rocks off.

Came with friends. Still wish u were here.

Simon started to think if he did something heroic, like showing up to where Johnny was, sweeping him into his arms, and took him home — would it get him laid.

He shouldn’t be so selfish. The man was drunk off wine. He wouldn’t take advantage of him like that.

Lmk when you get home safe. Simon sent and let his phone ding for the rest of the night. He regretted doing so when he woke up.

Waking up to drunk messages from Johnny was a handful to sort through. Half written messages, horribly written ones, and a singular photo.

Simon’s mouth was dry; Johnny was laying on his bed, shirt shucked up between his teeth, the bottom of a tattoo under his pecs showing. The hairy expanse of his stomach and happy trail showing, pants unbuttoned and pulled open to show his briefs. Johnny’s hand was holding the bulge of his cock in his pants.

The message underneath read wish u were here bad.

Simon felt his cunt throbbing perversely. He felt all urges to leave the house vanish, and all he wanted to do was touch himself like Johnny was in the photo.

It had been the last thing Johnny sent, but there wasn’t much thought to why. Simon contemplated but didn’t fight himself long before he was moving for his bedroom, unbuckling his button, and pulling the curtains over the windows before sliding his pants off.

He grabbed his silicon dildo from his closet along with his lube, situating himself up by the pillows before pouring a drizzle of lube on his fingers. He slipped his fingers between his thighs, already warm and soft under his touch. He kept the photo on his screen as he touched his clit, glancing over when he lost focus on why he’d been so bothered.

He imagined it was Johnny touching him, but he wouldn’t be so desperate and quick. Johnny would praise him, run his hands up and down his thighs as he shoved his tongue down his throat. He’d makeout with Simon until he was throbbing in his jeans, grinding himself into Simon’s hot cunt, and still refuse Simon relief.

He wouldn’t aggressively rub Simon’s clit. He’d run his fingers over his mons, along his outer lips and work his way down. Maybe he’d even eat Simon out. He’d get so cock drunk that he wouldn’t even put his fingers into Simon until he was begging him, writhing, squeezing his face between his thighs. He go at it for hours.

He wouldn’t keep shoving his cock head into Simon’s cunt to the point where it was burning. He’d make sure Simon was gushing pre before lubing himself up, and he’d play with Simon’s clit. Tease him with his tip, pushing it between his folds, and running it back over his mons. Just making a mess.

Then he’d lean over, whisper sweet things in his ear as he was pushing in.

“You’re doing so well for me. Such a sweet boy.”

“So soft. I can’t stand the way you feel under my hands. It’s too good.”

“I wish you could see the way you’re taking me. Splitting open on my cock, panting so hard, and I haven’t even gotten all of it in.”

“I love the way you clench when I play with your clit. Pushing yourself on my cock to take the rest of it. So greedy.”

“Such a good boy for me. Only for me. Say it, sweet thing. You’re mine, aren’t you? Yeah?”

Simon fucked himself down on his dildo as he rubbed his clit, eyes shut, mouth open, grinding until it pushed up against his front wall, lighting up stars in his eyes.

“That’s it. Good boy. Of course you needed something to grind up against. Be sweet for me and cum, using me as a toy to get off.”

Simon moaned painfully as he orgasmed, sitting on the full length of his dildo as he slumped down on his shoulders and knees. He grimaced as he dragged his fingers over his clit to feel the lingering shock of his orgasm. Like the masochist he was, he kept rubbing until he was jerking away from his own touch.

Sliding until he was belly down on the bed, he pressed his forehead into the sheets as he took deep breaths. Dildo abandoned behind him, covered in lube and his own excrements.

All his time was becoming occupied with obsessing over this man, over this Scottish devil who teased him and praised him. He should feel sick for doing such ludicrous acts.

But he couldn’t bring himself to take the shame he was being handed.

The photo was left without another word. No acknowledgment that it ever happened. Come the night of the queer event, and Simon was sitting in his seat with a drink in hand. He knew Johnny would come, because he’d asked, practically begged him for an answer, and he was jittery with nerves.

He’d jerked off more times than necessary to Johnny’s photo, a teasing non-nude photo, the prerequisite of promised sex. There would be no slowing down when Simon got his hands on that man. He’d tear him apart in the bathroom stall if he had to.

Simon couldn’t see the front door so he was left to wonder if Johnny was really coming. Would he come? Would he treat Simon differently? Would he cling to Simon, keep him under his arm, and drag him this way and that way all night? Or would he just take Simon to some quiet spot and finish what he was promised?

Simon was lost in thought as a crowd was closing in on the other side of the bar. He looked up from his drink.

From across the bar, the low LED lights underneath painted the high points of Johnny’s face in red, like some lucrative predator. He kept his eyes on Simon, making sure his prey didn’t run off before he could sink his teeth in.

The air felt electric, and Simon was buzzing again.

All he could think about was the photo, and the desperate ache of Simon’s thighs every night he rode his poor dildo.

Johnny rounded the bar, and Simon tried to brace his dignity before Johnny yanked it out from under his feet. His hand slid along the back of Simon’s shoulders before it wrapped around his waist, his chest pressed to his spine, cheek to Simon’s neck. The hug was as intimate as fucking was, but it was careful, stomping the line between friends and fuck buddies.

“Hel-lo sailor.” Johnny purred against the side of Simon’s face, giving a chaste kiss to his cheek before pulling himself aside. Not far enough to give Simon space, but enough to press his chest to Simon’s arm, facing him while standing between the bar stools. “You’re here early.”

“Spying on me?”

“No.” Johnny trailed off with a seductive smirk, sliding into the seat beside Simon, still facing him. His thighs bracketing Simon’s body. “What’re you drinking?”

“Vodka.”

“In a weekday?” Johnny guffawed. “I didn’t know you were the type.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

Johnny smiled, leaning in on the back of Simon’s chair. “Oh yeah? Care to share?” He hovered in Simon’s space, and he was just choking on his spit.

Simon watched him peer at his lips, and back up to his eyes. “Got a light?”

Johnny was all hands and tongue and teeth. His body was plush up against Simon’s, keeping him pinned up against some stranger’s car in the dark of the parking lot.

Simon let his head tip back against the roof of the car as Johnny bit all along his throat, mouthing and nipping along his collar. Simon gasped as Johnny managed to get a thigh between his legs, searching until he got the right angle and—

Simon whined out loudly, like a kicked puppy, and clenched his mouth shut when Johnny pressed down on him.

“Feels that good, huh?” Johnny pressed his smiling lips to Simon’s cheek, holding the other side of his face. “Go on, ride it like last time.”

Simon’s face was hot red. He was driven by carnal desire and nothing more. He couldn’t explain why his thoughts left him. All he knew was how to listen.

And grind he did.

Simon gripped the back of Johnny’s neck, pressing his cheek to his bicep, and grinding his clothed cunt until he felt raw. Until his hips were giving desperate humps, meeting Johnny’s hips before bumping the side of the car.

Johnny’s hands were soothing down his back, over his hips, guiding him, and slipping into his back pockets to cup his ass. He found amusement in Simon’s empty headed lust.

His lips pressed up against Simon’s ear. “Do you want my help?” He hummed, crushing Simon’s body to the cool glass of the car again. He collected Simon’s face in his hands, looking into his eyes. “You want my hands?”

Simon panted over his wet mouth, clarifying finding him in moments of need. “Yes.”

“Yeah?” Johnny smiled, “Unbuckle your pants for me.”

Simon gulped, licking his lips, and let his hands fist in Johnny’s shirt at his sides. “Not here.”

Johnny glanced around, and shoved his hand in his pocket between them to find his car keys. He unlocked his car, underneath Simon, and reached for the handle. “Inside.”

They shuffled into the small backseat, bumping into each other within the confined space, and Simon ended up straddling over Johnny’s lap.

“I think I liked outside better.” Johnny joked, kissing Simon into silence. His hands smoothed along his thighs, squeezing his ass. “But this is fine too.”

Simon kissed down Johnny’s throat, biting his neck as he did, and kissed his collar before there was a hand in his hair bringing him up again.

“I like kissing you.” Johnny said.

“Then stop talking.”

Johnny smiled, one hand dragging underneath Simon’s shirt. “But I want to have my mouth on other parts of you.”

Simon gave a high sigh when Johnny kissed him again. Simon ran his hands down Johnny’s chest to his stomach. Teasing at his belly, feeling his happy trail, and waistband.

Johnny gazed up at him with soft eyes, “You can unbuckle my pants if you’d like.” He whispered.

“Why would I want to do that?” Simon teased.

“Maybe you’re curious.”

Simon scoffed. “Curious?”

“Because I didn’t send you the photo I wanted to the other night.”

Simon felt hot, maybe it was because the air in the car was growing thicker or because Johnny was a literal heater under him.

“You never text me back.” Johnny smirked.

“What was I supposed to say?” Simon huffed.

“A compliment would have been nice.”

“You come off as cocky, you know that?”

Johnny hummed as he leaned in to kiss Simon’s mouth again, reaching between them to unbutton his own pants. The sound of his zipper slipping down made both men look down between them. Johnny leaned back in his seat. “You next.”

Simon hesitated. Sat in the lap of a very hungry beast, he hated to steal its dinner. “There’s something I have to say first.”

“Okay.” Johnny sat closer, putting his hands on Simon’s hips.

Before Johnny’s mouth could silence him, he shouted into the hot silence. “I’m trans!”

Both men stared at each other at the intrusive utterance.

Simon felt his heart suddenly shifting to blare in his ears when Johnny stared up at him. He felt like his breath was too loud, panting too heavy, holding Johnny too softly.

“Okay.” Johnny said plainly. And his hands began petting Simon again, smoothing up and down his waist. “Do you want me to stop?”

Simon didn’t even answer. He was launched by the reassuring question, sinking his mouth into Johnny’s again. He unbuttoned his pants, desperately trying to shove them lower so he could get his underwear down enough.

The dripping smell of his hot cunt filled the space, making Johnny seem less interested than he was.

Simon’s hands were collecting one of Johnny’s off his hip, bringing it to his stomach, dragging downward to his thighs. He panted over Johnny’s mouth as he took his sweet time to Simon’s cunt.

He had a teasing twinkle in his eyes when he parted his fingers, deliberately touching Simon’s pubic hair and outer labia instead of his warmer tip.

Simon grit his teeth, gripping Johnny’s wrist. “Just fucking do it already.” He growled.

“I can’t help it. I like the way you look.”

And Simon must’ve looked like a freak; pants pulled down under his cunt, half way sitting in Johnny’s lap, half straining his thighs as he arched his ass back between the seats. His head bumping the ceiling, hands clutched Johnny’s body like some soul eating creature.

Simon relished the moment Johnny’s two fingers were closing around his swollen tip, gently tugging and stroking him between his fingers. Simon fucked into hand, panting and shaking as he held himself up.

Johnny clutched the bottom of his jaw, making him look into his eyes as he played with his tip. “Look at you. Sweet—sweet boy. You’re so big in my hands. Practically drooling into my palm.”

Simon tried to tuck his face down but Johnny kept him firm.

“You’ve been like this all night?” He pulled Simon’s face in, ghosting his tongue along his bottom lip. “Poor thing. Were you thinking about the photo? Would you like to know what got me hot that night?”

Simon whined as Johnny cupped him, nulling his chances of grinding against his palm.

Johnny mouthed in his ear. “I was thinking about eating you out, all night. And I couldn’t stop thinking about you absolutely loving it.”

Simon began moaning desperately, muffling it into Johnny’s shoulder as Johnny rubbed his palm against Simon’s clit. His fingers rubbing past his hole, making an absolute mess of him. He rocked his hips against Johnny’s every stroke, breath getting higher and higher.

“There you go. Make a mess of me, sweet thing.” Johnny held the back of Simon’s head, keeping his lips on his cheek. “I’ll suck you off dry and then maybe you can fuck me.”

Simon was seeing black spots in his vision as his eyes were rolling back. He clutched to Johnny’s wrist as he whined in agony, orgasming the hardest he has alone, and still forcing himself to grind against Johnny’s stagnant hand until he was crying from overstimulation.

He felt his cunt throbbing, his head pounding, and—Johnny’s soft hand on his thigh. He soothed his hand up to his hip, and down to where his jeans cut off access. Then up again. He didn’t usher Simon along, didn’t redirect him to a more comfortable spot yet, just soaking in the blissful moment.

Simon moved first. Sitting his bare ass on the backseat, his knees resting in Johnny’s lap, head against the glass of the door. He shut his eyes, parched again. His pants were still tangled around his thighs.

Johnny squeezed his calves softly.

Watching him, Johnny made no effort to get Simon out of his car. He was quite content with squeezing up and down Simon’s calves, rubbing his thumb into each ankle, and up to his thighs. He gave him a soft look before smiling, his thumb stroking the skin of his thigh underneath.

“Why do you do that?” Simon asked.

“Do what?”

“Touch me.”

“I like to.”

“You’re always touching me.”

“I like to.”

“Why?”

Johnny shrugged. “You’re attractive. Though your humor is really dry.”

“Alright.” Simon began tugging his pants up. “Times up. I won’t be insulted by you.”

Johnny laughed, leaning over to trap Simon against the door with a kiss. He smiled down at him, “I like you.”

Simon glanced between his eyes with bewilderment. “You don’t know me.”

“I want to.”

Simon shook his head softly. For a man who just got a handjob, he really was something else. Maybe he was always this dumb, or maybe it was just the endorphins. Johnny liked that.

“I’m a really good cook.” Johnny insisted.

“I bet you’re a lousy cook.”

“Let me cook for you, and we’ll see.”

“What if it’s a flop?”

“Then we stick to handjobs in parking lots.” Johnny stated.

“I’m not doing this in your backseat again.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

Johnny stared down at Simon, smile slowly growing more and more on his face.

“You’re unattractive when you smile.” Simon lied.

“You’re attractive when you cum. I want to see you do it again.”

next chapter?? maybe??

fic masterlist link

tf141 masterlist link

[allwaswell16]

Annual Writing Self-Evaluation

Thanks for tagging me @kingsofeverything !

1. List of works published this year:

Netflix Original

A Deal

Do You See What I See 

Bitter Ends Turn Sweet (series)

All This Time

On That Note

Ace of Hearts

Crush

Daydream

One

Heart Beat 

2. Work you are most proud of (and why):

Probably Bitter Ends Turn Sweet. First of all, just knowing there was a song called Chicago on FITF had me shook. Then, the first time I heard it, it was just such a fanfic that the whole story was just right there in my head as soon as the song was over. And I was like...nah. I'm not gonna write a long kid fic, right? RIGHT?? I've written angst before, but writing about a child made me emotional in a way I've never felt while writing in part because I was writing a disabled child. And for that matter I wrote a trans character into this fic as well. But I wanted to write this in a way that made it clear how deeply loved and celebrated these characters were to their families and the people around them. Maybe I made their characters have it unrealistically easy, but it's what I wanted for them just as I want that for my disabled and trans family and friends in real life.

3. Work you are least proud of (and why):

I wouldn't say I'm not proud of any of them, but the time stamps I wrote for Bitter Ends are just things that didn't fit into the main story. And I feel like there's a reason they didn't, if that makes sense. But I thought it might be fun for anyone who liked the fic to read those bits of it, which is why I published them at all.

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

oof I can never find anything. Here's something from Bitter Ends:

Harry shrugged. “Maybe. Gem said it was okay to make mistakes like dancing with the wrong guys.”

Louis nodded, considering. “How about dancing with the right guy?”

Harry’s heart pounded harder, and he wasn’t sure it had anything to do with the dancing. “I don’t know. He didn’t say anything about that.”

He’d now lost Liam amidst the dancers, but it was hard to concentrate on that with Louis this close. Louis’ hand splayed out across his back, keeping him close as the beat slowed. 

They’d both dressed in black. And although Harry’s shirt was filmy with a bit of lace and Louis’ a t-shirt sheer enough to see his tattoos through, they were near enough to one another that Harry couldn’t tell where one fabric ended and another began.

Perhaps he could blame muscle memory on why he lifted his arms and wrapped them around Louis’ shoulders, close enough now to feel Louis’ breath at his neck, cooling his heated skin just there as desire zipped down his spine. 

The bit of scruff still on Louis’ cheeks slid against the bare skin of Harry’s shoulder peeking through where his shirt had slipped down, and Harry was thankful for the volume of the bar blocking out the sound of his moan. The whirl of lights danced across his vision, caught up in this moment with Louis.

5. Share or describe a favorite review you received:

There's this one for Bitter Ends: What a gift!!! What a wonderful, sweet, tear inducing gift of fabulous writing! Every word, every sentence of story building was exquisite. I could do nothing else but read this from start to finish and will reread it again and again. Max was an inspired character, so real and so loved. Thank you for this.

And this one for Ace of Hearts: I had no idea I loved early 19th century pirate stories as much as I do now. I couldn’t leave a comment until I finished reading all the parts. I don’t remember when I started but I did forgot to eat for awhile. I haven’t read a story with so many twists and well written.

And basically every single one for Do You See What I See because they're all the same thing...people yelling at me when they find out the twist hahahaha

6. A time when writing was really, really hard:

No one come for me, but I wouldn't say there's ever a time where it's really hard to do. BUT sometimes it's really hard for me to make time for it.

7. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

I spent YEARS trying to come up with a plot for a Louis/Cillian Murphy fic. Nothing felt right. And then it somehow occurred to me that what I really wanted to write was Louis/Tommy Shelby and once I figured that out the story immediately came to me.

8. How did you grow as a writer this year:

I always like to try my hand at new things, so this year I wrote girl direction for the first time, some new rare pairs, I wrote an advent fic, both my longer fics are kid fics, which is wild to me lol.

9. How do you hope to grow next year:

Whoops. Had to come back and add this in. I just hope to find more time to write and keep finding more challenges for myself.

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

If you looked through my author's notes this year, you'd definitely notice how often I thanked @nouies I couldn't have done half of what I did this year without Lou. Her encouragement and making fic posts and reading things over for me helped me enormously. To have someone supporting and keeping me going was just everything. And always @louandhazaf for betaing my fics and always being excited to read whatever new thing I've come up with to write! Thank you x a million, Nic!

11. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

lol yes. hmmm where to start...Bitter Ends has a lot of my son and the things my family likes to do in Chicago in it. Do You See What I See is based on a FB ad I saw that I found hysterically funny and also based on the animals that run around in the wooded ravine behind my house. Daydream takes place in a coffee shop that I like to go to. And Heart Beat takes place in a fictional version of my hometown, has a fictional version of my cat in it, and has a plot inspired by me spending a lot of time in a converted cathedral listening to my son play the drums.

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

I think I say the same thing every year...READ!!! It's important of course to make time for the actual writing. And writing as much as possible if your goal is to become better at it, but analyzing other people's writing is how a lot of people grow as a writer. What is it about your favorite novels/fics that you love? Read or reread them with a critical eye at what exactly the writer is doing so you can try it out in your own writing.

13. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

I (think??? lol) I'm only signed up to write for @1dalphalouisfest but I'll probably sign up for @1domegaverseficfest too. And obviously I'll write for my own fest @louisrarepairfest I have this soulmates fic that I've been simmering in my brain for a while and I just recently started to figure a few things out for it. So it may or may not fit into one of those fests.

14. Tag three writers whose answers you’d like to read. ;)

@jacaranda-bloom @nouies @lululawrence and anyone else who wants to do this just say I tagged you!

*All answers should be about works published in 2023

Past years: 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020 , 2021 , 2022

[badchoicesworld]

Ok this might be too niche, and if so I totally get it. Its a bit similar to the one about post top surgery (which I loved, by the way)

So I don't know if you've ever heard of transtape, but it's a type of binding. And boy it can be REALLY itchy. So I was wondering if you could write a noir fic where the reader and him are eating out somewhere, or even at home, and the reader is (trying to hide it but kind of hardcore failing) itching at the tape like they've got some sort of allergic reaction.

But noir is obviously concerned like "what's wrong are you having an allergic reaction???" And the reader is like "oh Nono it's nothing-". Either because they didn't tell noir they were trans yet, or simply because they don't want him to worry and flip out.

But then noir is like "absolutely not" and he goes into full "gotta save my partner" mode, because he thinks there's gotta be some sort of obscenely serious allergic reaction here, and he's doing a full medical examination while panicking. The reader finally tells him what's up when they see just how worried he is, and he's relieved but also still concerned. Cute hugs included please.

Thanks so much! I don't know if this completely ridiculous, but thank you!

noir finds out you wear trans tape

yknow, i love spider verse so dearly but if i ever became one it’s incredible how fast id become past tense, my arachnophobia could not live w the fact that i’d be part spider

established relationship

warnings: none, don’t think

pairing: spider-noir x transmasc!reader

requests: check out the masterlist !

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

ever since you invited noir to your dimension, he’s been wanting to try out all of the new food places that he’s never heard of before

he mostly sees a sign that he really likes, something usually glowing and neon and immediately assumes the food has to be incredible

admittedly, a lot of the food is better in comparison to 30’s cuisine

it’s like a tradition for you guys to get takeout once a week, something like that, just to try out new foods and see if you can find anything you like

this is one of those instances, later in the week where you two decide to order some takeout and kick back in your place

you also happen to be three days deep into wearing trans tape, right around that mark where it starts to get irritating and itchy if not maintained properly

of course, you’ve done pretty well at keeping this little detail about yourself private, for your own reasons

that of course includes from your partner, peter parker/spider-noir

wether he knows you’re trans or not, he’s unaware that you bind with trans tape and if you were ever to explain that to him, he’d be fuckin clueless

trans tape ? the tape is trans ? what ?

so yeah i don’t blame you for keeping it a secret

anyway, you two are settling down with your food from this new joint that noirs had his eye on for a bit

it slaps, food slaps, food is amazing

and it’s a pure coincidence that your trans tape starts to really irritate you, the adhesive or maybe one of those annoying as fuck loose fibres that’s just barely grazing ur skin

at first you just try to discreetly readjust your body while trying not to spill food all over you, easy enough

but then the itch doesn’t go away .

try as you might, there’s no way of discreetly dealing with an itch . give it a scratch, lest it haunts you for the rest of your life

you again, try to do it as discreetly as possible

but after a while, even noirs oblivious ass will notice how thoroughly you’re trying to scratch at yourself

at first his head is completely empty, he’s just staring at you cluelessly until he thinks that it could have something to do with the new food you’re both eating

immediately voices this concern, doesn’t bother to beat around the bush if he thinks your health is at risk, straight up “what’s wrong? are you allergic?” with no context

now you’re both confused cause, no, you’re not ? but then ah, right, attempting to discreetly scratch an itch can look awkward

assuming your allergic is probably the smartest thing to do

insist you’re okay with no further explanation, and noir will just assume you’re attempting to downplay it

takes it into his own hands, sets his food aside without hesitation and does the same for you

starts a full scale investigation, he is a PI

starts to gently pull on your arms to get a better look at them, rolling your sleeves up if you’re wearing them

checking your temperature, getting up close to see if you’re breaking out in any sort of rash while asking plenty of questions, like a real detective

he doesn’t start to panic until he doesn’t find any of these symptoms at all, now he’s perplexed and worried

the whole time you can be trying to spew reassurances or excuses, but he’s not convinced until there evidence to suggest you’re NOT having an allergic reaction to the food

you’ll be here forever unless you spill what’s going on

so, in your time, you eventually will

you’ll reassure him once again that you’re fine and go on to explain to him what’s going on, that you’re binding and your trans tape is starting to irritate you

the concept of being trans is a little confusing to him, but the physical act of taping your chest down is a lot easier for him to understand since it’s a like, an action (does that make sense)

so while it might confuse him why you do it at first, especially if it’s gets irritating after a while, he can understand the actual action of doing it

in his head it’s like “oh. okay.” idk man it’s ur appearance he doesn’t have a say in that shit, he doesn’t wanna, he just acknowledged that this is a thing you do

but then he gets curious

he’ll ask about the details, why it irritates and if there’s things you can do to avoid it

explain to him that, yeah, it can suck to bind and there’s instances where it can be a risk, but you do it for the sake of your wellbeing

he’ll insist that you don’t have to bind around him if it makes you uncomfortable

in his head, if something bad has happened while you bind once, it could happen again

now he’s just kinda bummed that this is something you have to endure at all, just for the sake of your own comfort

he’ll probably hit you with a “Well. Do you have to?” a few times in one sitting, in the least insensitive way possible

he just doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable

seems counter productive to him, to do something that causes discomfort to BE comfortable

but he’s just having a hard time understanding the importance

still, he’s not feeling great about it now and wants to show you he’s there through plenty of TLC

grab ur takeout and pick a movie with some bright ass colours

he’s notably a little more delicate now around your chest, especially the sides

for future reference, he’s happy to help you tape up if you ever need the extra pair of hands

but you will have to teach him how to do it properly, if not, he’ll think ur supposed to go as tight as possible

also willing to help take it off, is for some reason the one wincing

he’s checking up on you constantly now

ESPECIALLY after he’s done his own research and learned about how dangerous binding can be if it’s not done right

he’s over dramatic, let him have his moment

he is the type to physically stop you from doing certain things you shouldn’t while binding- will give you one of those disapproving looks while he waits for you to do the right thing

he’ll hit you with a “what do you think you’re doing, mister?” and u just know it’s over

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

bind safely freaks

[pegglefan69]

He had breakfast with the chickens. The chickens would cheer him up. He settled in the middle of their little pen like a gloomy statue, playing Bauhaus for them with the volume turned all the way up. The sky was a rich, gorgeous pink, and the chickens burbled contentedly as they scratched in the dirt or hopped around on the little obstacle course he’d made them out of a few logs, but the tranquility of the scene before him did nothing to change the fact that Norris was now deeply restless. As he tucked into his bowl of desiccated granola, he found himself wondering what the old man was doing for breakfast.  That was dumb. The guy probably had his wallet. He was probably at a diner that very moment, eating pancakes or whatever, thrilled to be free from that horrible tree and ready to see where the rest of his weird life would take him. He certainly wasn't wondering what the big man with no eyebrows was up to. If Norris was on his mind at all, he was probably nothing more than a lingering impression, like the remains of a bad dream.

Chapter Three of my ongoing WIP novel is out! In this one Norris has a uniquely crummy morning, interacts with several cool older lesbians, & is hounded by the specter of a certain mysterious old man.

If you haven’t started reading yet, & ‘early 2000s trans Goth accidentally gets roped into helping a gay wizard on a revenge quest against his former apprentice/lover’ sounds like fun, you can start reading here, for free! 🧙🌈

[dgknightblue]

I was thinking about El Dorado and RVB after the song good to be a god came on and wondered how I could twist it in any way I want.

Who are the main characters pretending to be god?

Church for one.

So that leaves the other one.

They were a blue and a red.

I thought about Simmons, but like I don’t know if it works.

I don’t remember the names of the main characters it’s been a long time since I’ve watched it.

There are a number ways this could work.

Kai is a thief they meet that gets flirty with Church to help her out.

The sword fighting at the beginning, really like the whole sister bit, but I like the idea of Simmons kind being family so he’d know Carolina’s the best…..

Maybe after they help Kai they meet Tex? I don’t ship Kai with anyone.

Hm…..

Actually I’ve got this idea of Grif somehow tricking Simmons into marrying him. Like there’s this place where Simmons and his family live that’s off limits.

Simmons is the “weakest” of the kin still living because he use to get sick often as a child and he thinks he’s the only “fully human” family member.

Uh or his family just has special powers and he thinks he never got any so the others are a tad protective and it’s also because he was the sickly child back then.

So closed off, sheltered Simmons rarely ever meets anyone because he’s rarely aloud out of the private land or home. He’s got this backstory that’s kind of sad.

His dad was hitter before he left, so Simmons’ mom wanted him to be safe when she couldn’t be there, she moved into her sister’s home.

Wither or not you want to do Trans Simmons is up to you, but I do just so you know.

How do simmons and grif meet?

Kai got into a little trouble due to a scuffle and Grif was trying to bail her out and they had to run. They hid in one of Simmons’ hiding spots in the forest surrounding his home.

He had a complete and utter panic attack so they had to calm him down. Afterwards, they realized where they are (in a very well known piece of private property) and who they are with (a sheltered, innocent, and possibly very important kin to the land owners and who is also visibly terrified but not hostile).

Believing in magic (don’t know if I want actual magic or just superstitious peoples) and hearing the rumors about the people of the property, Grif offers to be Simmons friend in exchange for safety.

Simmons (who crushes easily and has a few rejections behind him) lights up and throws any caution out the window. Grif realizes Simmons is blindly trusting him and that he’s so fxcking lonely.

But Grif knows only kin are allowed to be on the land, so he thinks fast on how to make his proposal semi official in a short amount of time.

First is words of promise

Second is mutual agreement

Third is proof

Kai helps them and stays quiet about what she thinks about this. It’s fxcked up they are tricking this poor guy, but also they need the protection.

Simmons is chatting excitedly about his new friends and wants to tell his mom about them. They aren’t excited about that.

Simmons holding Grif’s hand as he leads them to his house and that he’s the only one home right now, he was making pastries!

Grif might have just lucked out.

Soooo Simmons was already a very domestic and now he’s on his way to being a full househusband/ malewife. He doesn’t know what personal space is or the difference between friendly and lovestruck so he’s just feeding Grif by hand and wiping his face for him and embarrassing him in front of Kai and she’s trying not to laugh at her just engaged brother.

It comes up somehow, but Simmons gives Grif a thank you kiss on his cheek and he’s snuggling him- WHY IS HE SITTING ON HIS LAP???

“GET YOUR GAWD DXMNED HANDS OFF MY NEPHEW!!!!”, says a tall, angry man in light blue.

Simmons can’t read the fxcking room so he cheerfully waves.

“Hi uncle Church, this is my boyfriend! I just met him today!”

“Oh shxt don’t say it like that!?”

Kai’s having a blast now. Here comes Caboose!!! Yoinking Simmons to go play and eat the rest of the pastries. The Grif’s are left

[Unfinished, abandoned idea]

[artificialqueens]

🏳️‍🌈 WeHo Trans Nights: Chapter 1 (Bianca Del Rio / Kylie Sonique Love ; Multi) - Imafuckinglibra

A/N : Happy fucking pride, that’s it. I don’t care if the month’s almost over, this mini-series is my pride gift to you all and ngl myself. This was pure, unapologetic, self-indulgent smut that I wanted to exist and you know what, I am really proud of it. And yes, I pinky promise there will be art that follows for this next queue, k bye.

“…then this dumb bitch had the audacity to say, get this, people were killed at Stonewall.” 

The small room filled with a loud uproar of oohs, aahs and a few laughs, none of which came from Roy. He was far too busy reposting some snide comeback he tweeted at a heckler to his Instagram, his Instagram story, Facebook, and once again on Twitter, just for good measure.

“Did you hear that?” Darienne asked, slapping Roy roughly on the back. 

“Yeah bitch dumb something stonewall, so funny…” Roy drawled absentmindedly, still typing away on his phone.

Never one to shy from a good excuse to celebrate something, his best friend Shane threw an annual party to kick off pride. Always a different stupid theme and always a hotbed for degenerates. 

This being the 8th year in a row, Roy had had enough. All night, he’d fulfilled his best-friend duties and helped keep everything running smoothly, as usual, but nearing the end of the party he was not in the mood for any more mindless small-talk. Even with Darienne.

Darienne, still standing beside him, sighed deeply, “Will you lighten up please?”

“Ugh, why?” he grumbled. “You know I hate pride.”

“Now, Roy…” 

He felt someone’s hands on his shoulders. 

“My love.” It was Shane, cooing in his ear, taking the phone out of his hand just as he hit the last post. “Can we please put the phone away for one night and engage in polite society?”

Roy blinked at him slowly, emphasizing the stupidity in his statement with a loud smack of his lips.

“Look around you,” he gestured with his open palms, “NONE of these people are polite society.”

“Well-“

“Willam sucked off a guy while he watched dog porn, I know Australians have different worldviews but we regular folk see that as…what’s the word?” Shane shifted from one foot to the other, crossing his arms in annoyance as Roy kept pretending to think. “Nasty ass shit!”

“I hate you,” Shane broke out into a laugh, hitting Roy on the arm with his bedazzled rainbow fan, a little roughly at first but then a few more times, playfully, till Roy stopped frowning. 

“Okay, okay.” Roy snatched his fan from him. 

“But thank you for coming to my party, even if we have so many degenerates.”

“Of course, I get my best material at your little shindigs.” 

And that really was the God’s honest truth. As much as Roy loathed Shane’s parties and having to engage with so many people who he tolerated at best, it did make for some top-tier stand-up material. Material the budding comic desperately needed.

“Oh I know,” Shane nodded. “I intend to get royalties any day now.”

“Is that how it is?” He raised an eyebrow. “So this is a business affair?”

“Oh pussyface, at this point I’d settle for any affair.”

“Only if you ask nicely,” Roy shot back with a shit-eating grin, his hand sliding down from Shane’s shoulders to the small of his back.

“Don’t tempt me, I have guests to entertain,” Shane sighed, turning away from Roy and towards the room of people. “Like that one!” 

Shane waved at Adore, running off to go catch up.

Roy gave the room another scan, checking for any out of place cups or spills to clean up, even sort of hoping there would be a stain on the carpet to scrub so he’d have something to cure his boredom.

Then, like a godsend, he saw her walking towards him.

“My my, aren’t you just cuter than a box of kittens on a Sunday afternoon?” Kylie whistled when she saw Roy’s outfit.

“Haven’t seen you all night, I was wondering why this party was so quiet,” Roy teased. 

“Careful, one of these days I might take it personally,” Kylie smiled. She finally turned around, arms open for a welcoming hug. “Well hey there, Sugar!”

“How are you, Sugartits?” He squeezed her tight, getting a good whiff of her deliciously sweet perfume. 

Roy loved getting to hang out with Kylie, rare as it was. There wasn’t a specific reason, she was just that one friend he never really got to work with regularly and thus never spent time with. But it did make reuniting so much sweeter. 

They both looked at each other and gave a good exhale, neither sure what to say except the usual, “you look good” or “I’ve missed you”. 

Instead they quietly made their way to the bar where the poor twink bartender Shane found on Grindr was panicking while pouring drinks, clearly out of his depth. Roy’s sympathetic smile seemed like the only comfort he’d received all night and for a second he almost felt bad for him, till he decided to note it down in his phone for later material instead.

“Well,” Kylie broke the silence first, turning towards where Willam was still telling his story. “He’s doing the Derrick bit again…never gets new material, does he?”

“Nope.” Roy popped the p for emphasis. 

It seemed like every year, Willam would tell this same story, Roy would get drunk on the same cocktails and, if he played his cards right, Shane would ask him to stay over at the end of the night for a wild evening of sinfully good sex. The latter he wasn’t too mad at.

And Kylie. Every year they’d flirt a little over the same shots of tequila, catch up on what was new in their lives, and then part ways yet again. Same old same old, and this year she was right on cue again.

“I’m pretty surprised we’re dressed the same. I mean I look better but we knew,” she teased while they waited for their drinks from the struggling bartender. “I didn’t think anyone else would come as a slutty witch, let alone you.”

“Ouch,” Roy pretended to flinch, pressing his hand to his wounded chest. “Say what the fuck you really think, cunt.”

“Oh please, you can take it.” 

“You like that?” Roy asked, lifting a brow. “You should see how I give it.”

Even without looking Roy could feel her hand moving slowly closer to his on the countertop. He tried to decipher if it was just his mind playing tricks on him or if she was trying to do a little more than flirt this time around. 

Not that he would mind. She was gorgeous; she’d always been gorgeous but tonight, she was a downright smoke show. It was obvious how much work she put into her body just from her Instagram posts but seeing it in person was something else.

Well, that or just the obvious; the costume she wore was so small and tightly fitted it was damn near indecent.

When Shane had given the theme for the year as ‘Gay Christmas,’ the West Hollywood way of saying Halloween, he didn’t expect anyone else to even bother thinking of a witch; it was too mundane.

And yet, here Kylie stood in nothing but a corset, a lace bustle that showed off her black panties, leather opera-length gloves and boots that went all the way to her thighs. An oversized witch hat and teeny, tiny broom as accessories as if they were an afterthought to make the witch part fit.

“So um, can I ask you something?” Her fingers crawled towards him, running them over the back of his hand. 

“Yeah, sure.” He casually took a sip from his cocktail as if the butterflies in his stomach weren’t going berserk. 

“I need you to promise me if anyone brings out their guitar or starts singing again this year…”

“Oh god!” Roy burst out into hysterical cackling. The visions of last year’s fiasco and the horrors of 20 queers trying to sing over each other replayed in his mind.

“We are out of here!” She slapped his shoulder, joining in his laughter. “Member when uh, what’s her name?” She snapped her fingers, “the little one with the baby face and the sad songs?”

“Blair,” Roy shuddered. 

“Blair!” Kylie pulled her face in confusion. “I always expect some big gal with like some unseasoned potato salad in hand when someone says Blair St. Clair, don’t you?”

“If that ain’t the honest truth, bitch.”

They clinked their glasses and each took a sip, smiling cordially at each other before they returned their focus to where Willam was starting a new story about how drunk Derrick had gotten at a comedy special they did together. 

Not quite as old a story as his Stonewall tale, but once you got him going he didn’t relent on any chance to diss good ol’ Derrick Berry, especially when he was in attendance, practically blowing smoke out of his ears with rage. 

“So, how’d Shane talk you into this?” Kylie asked, dragging Roy’s focus back from his phone, yet again replying to snarky comments left on his posts.

“Do you mean the party or the get-up?” He didn’t even bother looking up, too distracted in his mission to get the last word in. 

“You do look fantastic in that shirt though,” she teased, fingering the little piece of loose thread around his shoulder.

Maybe he’d gone for a predictable look, a black mesh crop top that barely came up to his chest, the same leather harness every respectable queer person owned, black denim shorts, some knee length black boots (which Shane had happily provided) and a witch’s hat. 

“I know,” he nodded, finally putting the phone away. “Black’s my color. Have to admit, you don’t look half bad yourself.”

“Oh I know, sugar. You don’t have to tell me.”

“I always forget just how country you are until you talk.” He smiled, a sense of homesickness tugging at his chest. “Sugah.”

“Are you tickled, bitch?” 

“I am very tickled…especially by that outfit,” he whistled, making her spin around while holding her hand over her head. “You really—“

“Fill it out well?” Clearly she’d gotten this note before.

“No.” He grabbed her by the arm, pulling her roughly back against him so she’d be facing the same direction as him. “Look.”

“What?” She stopped, looking down at where he held her bicep.

“Better grab your shit…and quick.” He failed to hide an amused smile as he pointed over to where Trixie and Jinkx were setting up their chairs and a guitar.

“Oh, sweet baby Jesus…” Kylie’s eyes went wide in horror when Trixie began strumming the intro to Jolene by Dolly Parton. She quickly grabbed her drink, trying to chug the rest.

“Forget the goddamn drink, run!” Roy laughed, pushing her towards the front door with his hand on the small of her back.

*

“Is this your first time seeing my place?” she asked politely when they walked into her apartment. 

“Uh, yeah.” Roy nodded. “Pretty sure, but it’s nice. Good view.” 

God it was awkward.

“We don’t have to make small talk, do we?” she asked with a hesitant tone while putting down her stolen glass down on a countertop. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk to Roy and continue their banter from earlier, but she did have more pressing issues to take care of first.

Roy crossed his arms, his brows furrowed as if he was thinking something through, asking, “No chit chat? You sure?”

“If you are.” Kylie shrugged. 

Faster than she could say flash Roy closed the distance, crashing their lips together in a feverish rush. His hands were already desperately clinging to whatever fabric he could find to rip it off of her. 

“God you just got even sexier,” she breathed into his mouth. 

Kylie could feel the corners of his lips twisting into a smile, presumably at the relief that he didn’t have to wait around anymore. 

“Back, uh, back room, on the right,” she instructed between breathy moans, following Roy’s lead and removing the thin piece of fabric he dared call a shirt as he pushed her into her bedroom.

Their costumes flew left and right in a haphazard rush to undress till Kylie was finally down to just her corset, and Roy had to let go of her to focus. 

“Lord have mercy.” He stopped in his tracks, admiring her tits when they escaped the top loosened laces of her corset.

“You like em, baby?” Obviously Kylie knew the answer, given the way his mouth practically salivated at the sight of them. 

“You have no idea,” he moaned, taking one of her nipples in his mouth, causing her head to tilt back in gorgeous ecstasy as Roy’s tongue swirled around it, soothing where his teeth had grazed it. 

He let the now over-sensitive bud go with a loud pop, satisfied at his handiwork, and reached for the second one, repeating every step, every bite and every lick, making Kylie practically vibrate with desire.

“Now don’t make me beg.” 

Kylie’s long fake nails latched onto Roy’s ass in a desperate attempt to guide his thigh between her legs for any kind of friction as he kept worshiping her breasts. 

“I can’t help it,” he murmured into her neck, latching onto her pulse point with his teeth. 

“Dammit, why did I wear this stupid thing?” Kylie whined.

She hadn’t expected Roy, ever the hardass, to be so attentive or teasing, letting her get embarrassingly wet and needy before he even made an effort to remove her corset any further. 

“Don’t worry baby, I got you,” he soothed, at long last pulling the laces apart. 

His gentle tone was a stark contrast to the way his teeth tore into her flesh, nipping at freshly exposed skin lower and lower at a snail’s pace till his knees hit the floor.

“Boy, if you don’t-“ Kylie exhaled impatiently when he paused right at her clit, so close she could feel his breath against her wetness.

She grabbed a fistful of Roy’s hair, the fingers of her other hand spreading herself open so he couldn’t miss what she was asking. Practically offering herself up on a silver platter for him to indulge in.

Roy smirked at her, probably ready to quip something stupid back at her but she pulled his head between her legs, trapping him with a flat palm behind his head before he could even dare.

Finally obeying, his tongue flattened out against her with his eyes pointed up at her, carefully watching her every reaction to every drag of his tongue.

“Baby, please,” she moaned a little more forcefully this time, rolling her hips against him. She didn’t have the patience for teasing licks anymore. She tried angling her hips up so he’d get the message but her legs faltered. 

“Woah there.” Roy grabbed onto her with both arms, steading her so she wouldn’t tip over. “Maybe we should…” He tilted his head towards the bed.

“Might be for the best,” she admitted, letting go of Roy so he could stand up. 

Face to face again, Roy slipped his tongue into her mouth, letting her taste herself on him as he walked her till the back of her knees hit the bed and she finally laid down.

With his hands on each thigh and a good forceful push, he shoved her further on the bed, her head against the headboard so he’d have enough space to lay down between her thighs on the edge of the matress. 

“Baby,” Kylie gasped when Roy’s thumb replaced his tongue on her clit, swiping quick circles around and around till she was breathless. Her hips thrust sporadically onto his pointed tongue, white knuckles gripping the sheets the only thing grounding her. 

“Good?” 

Ungodly good. Her whole body was alight, lightheadedness set in, her belly warm with anticipation, her cheeks flushed bright glowing red; all the warning signs that she was about to snap.

“Faster…”

“You’re so-“ he tried humming against her but a firm tug at his hair shut him up again.

“Don’t speak!”

It was all too much, even the way Roy was moaning into her while his hips rolled against the edge of the bed. 

“Just a little more…oh god…” She sucked in a deep breath, bracing herself as waves of overwhelming pleasure crashed down on her, knocking the wind out of her till she was a softly cursing mess.

The way Roy was still trying to toy with her by tentatively licking slow strokes around her clit even after she stopped shaking, although appreciated, had left her overstimulated.

“I need a minute.” Kylie tapped Roy’s shoulder. 

“You okay?” 

“Are you okay?” 

“Well, I’m definitely kicking myself for not doing this sooner.” Roy flashed a cheeky grin, wiping his wet chin off on her thigh. 

“Oh, sweetheart.” She caressed his face, slipping her thumb into his mouth for him to suck on instead, dragging his bottom lip out. “I knew that big mouth of yours would have a good use one day.”

“Bitch.” Roy bit down. 

“Why you son of a!” she hissed.

“What? Little ol’ me with the big mouth?

“If you don’t get your ass up here,” she snarled, sitting up and leaning forward enough that she could brush her lips against his, tempting him with a kiss just out of reach, “so help me…”

Roy eagerly obeyed and not particularly in the mood to mince words, Kylie pushed him down into the bed and straddled his back effortlessly in one swift motion. 

“Knew those redneck Olympics would have a good use one day.” 

“No more talking,” Kylie ordered into his ear, pinning him down with her body weight. 

“Yes, ma’am.” If it wasn’t so cute the way he said it so earnestly she might’ve corrected him again.

She started at his shoulders, digging her thumbs into the sore muscles as her hips subtly rolled down onto him, mimicking the way he pleased himself before she stopped him. 

Her hands moved lower, exploring the taught muscles flexing under her nails. Kneading his ass through his briefs till he tried to reach a hand into his underwear.

“Now you’re just being a cunt,” Roy huffed when she slapped it away. 

She wanted to be generous and let him get off, sure, but not before she could have at least a little bit of fun with him as payback.

“Uh uh,” Kylie tutted. “I’m being a lady, and I’ll take my sweet time if I feel like it.”

Roy dropped his head into the pillow clutched between his fists, a deep annoyed sigh making its way through the fabric. 

“What was that?” she asked, tongue in cheek, but he simply repeated the sigh, louder this time. 

Kylie could tell by the tight black shirts he wore so often on stage in his Instagram reels that Roy, at the very least, kept an eye on his physique after top surgery.

She’d never seen him this naked or this up close, obviously, but she had to admit; she agreed with Roy on his stance about not doing this sooner. 

He’d always been pretty thin but lately his shoulders and back had filled out quite noticeably while his waist and hips stayed as petite as ever, maybe even some new definition in his faint abs if anything.

His tight little ass, however—in his skimpy shorts, she knew it would be irresistible, imagining it as a cute little bubble butt just enough for a fist full each.

Curiosity was getting the better of her and Roy’s sighs had turned to muffled moans by now. She slid off of him and hooked her fingers into his waistband, ready to whip off his underwear in one go till she remembered he had his packer in. 

“Can I take this off too?” Kylie gave his underwear’s waistband a little tug, revealing a faint hint of a tan line above his ass crack. She bit her lip, trying to hide how enticing this little detail was to her.

“Yes! For the love of God!” 

“Just checking,” she lilted innocently, smiling at his impatience. She yanked off his underwear. “Oh!”

“What?” Roy shot up onto his elbows, looking over his shoulder with panic in his eyes.

“I just knew you’d have the cutest little fanny!” Kylie squealed in delight, grabbing a perfect fistful, just as she anticipated, of each cheek, earning an eye roll from Roy. 

At this angle on all fours, ass up with his cheeks and legs spread open, she could see just how practically dripping wet he was. 

“Poor honey bun,” she fawned over him, nails running up and down his sticky inner thighs. “You really are such a mess, huh.”

Roy bit into the pillow, refusing to give her the satisfaction she was looking for, but his legs bending to get closer to her fingers said more than any words ever could. 

Kylie finally showed some compassion and gave his slit a drawn-out lick, all the way from his dick to his hole.

Roy surprised them both when he let out a loud high pitched whimper, quickly throwing his hand over his face, “Oh my god, I am SO sorry.”

“What was that?” Kylie laughed loudly, she leaned on her side to get a good look at where he was hiding his face in the pillow again.

“I don’t know!” Roy admitted, joining in on the laughter. “Nobody’s tongue’s been that far back in a while! I guess it-it took me by surprise maybe?”

“That’s okay, sugar,” she teased in a low voice against his skin, already hovering over the same spot, ready and waiting. “Do you want me to do it again?” 

“Fuck…please,” Roy sighed pushing his hips back against her tongue. 

He reached for his dick again, jerking himself off in the same rhythm Kylie’s tongue had set for them. Desperation palpable with every stroke or every time he’d bounce back against her. 

Maybe if Roy’s muffled groans weren’t so distracting, either one of them would have heard the front door of her apartment opening.

“Hey, Kylie! Have you seen my blue work shirt?” her roommate shouted, clearly shuffling through the apartment. “I need to switch clothes, but I can’t find it-” 

“Fuck!” Kylie jumped off the bed, already throwing on a robe that was sitting on top of a hamper pile nearby. 

“What is she doing here?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know, but I’ll be right back,” she whispered, quickly wiping her mouth off with Roy’s discarded crop top. 

“Hey, that’s—whatever.” He gave up the fight about his shirt being a makeshift cumrag before he could even start. 

While she was dealing with that mess, Roy figured he’d make himself at home. He rolled himself over onto his back and tried to get comfortable, but his erection was by now downright painful.

Just to ease some tension his fingers, lazily slid up and down around his growth till he found a rhythm he liked. Four loud buzzes from his phone on the floor pulled him back to the present. He reached down to pull it from the pocket of his shorts.

Shane J:

Hey

Shane J:

What are you up to?

“Ah fuck,” he sighed. He forgot to say goodbye to Shane before he left and now, clearly bored and/or drunk, he needed some company.

Shane J:

I need you to come over 

Shane J:

I’ve got something to show you

He bit his freshly painted nails, debating what he should do or if he should say something since this situation, as fun as it was, seemed to be over. 

“She’s gone.” 

Maybe not. 

Kylie finally came back in before Roy had time to open the messages, her untied robe already on the floor, ready to get straight to business again. 

“Great.” Roy shoved the phone behind him like a child who’d been caught with it after bedtime. 

“Now,” Kylie purred, climbing over the bed towards him, a huntress on the prowl. She spread his thighs open, threw her left leg over his and with a little repositioning managed to get them pressed together at just the right angle. “Where were we?”

The pressure of her body weight resting on his dick was electrifying, making his hips inadvertently thrust up against her. Finally, he could let go of that breath he’d been holding in.

“That good, baby?” she asked, leaning down to suck on his bottom lip, their hips grinding together in unison.

“I want to fuck you,” Roy whispered into her mouth, his voice practically hoarse with want. 

“Then put it in.” Kylie stilled her hips and leaned back, pulling him with her till their positions were switched. Now with Roy on top and in control. 

His eyes flicked between hers trying to work out what she was planning.

“What?” She slipped her fingers into her mouth, pulling them back out with a thick trail of spit. “Do you need a map?”

She took his dick between the top of her slippery index and middle finger, guiding it just a little lower towards her entrance, and he gasped at the contact. 

“Fu-uck.” His eyes fluttered closed as she pushed his dick into her. He had to pace his breathing to avoid coming right then and there.

It wasn’t particularly deep, but god what he could manage inside felt fan-fucking-tastic. She was tight and wet and absolutely stunning. Especially when she grabbed his ass and wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him tightly while pushing up against his thrusts. 

“You never tried this?” she asked softly, her fingers dancing along his well-sculpted chest and around his scarred nipples. 

“Not exactly…” he admitted, looking down between them, slightly embarrassed for not thinking of it sooner. “But better late than never right?”

“Uh-huh,” she nodded, progressively struggling to form words as he fucked her harder, needier.  

He could feel the pressure in his stomach building, the possibility of finally getting to come so close, but seeing her fall apart like this a second time was too tempting to pass up. Almost worth edging himself one last time.

His thumb was already rubbing her clit in quick figure eights again in the same way she responded to so well last time, earning louder and more full-throated moans as opposed to her cute little whimpers.

“Oh fuck…” Kylie gasped, throwing her head back onto the bed, her legs trembling as she clung to him for dear life.  “Don’t stop…don’t stop…”

He could feel her tensing from deep in her core, every pulse, every flex around his growth pushing him further into oblivion. Unable to process any coherent thoughts. His hips frantically jerked into her even after her limbs went liquid.

“Keep going,” Kylie whispered, her nails deep into Roy’s ass. 

“Fuck I’m gonna come!” he growled, gritting his teeth, steadying himself on her shoulders. “Are you-“

“Keep going…” she repeated.

“I’m gonna…I-”  He finally came. Unabashedly moaning out any last praises in her name as his whole body ignited, like a high he hadn’t felt before and he wasn’t sure if he could come down from. 

His head full of lights and tingling, his body overheated and overstimulated but he knew he needed more, he needed to come again and fast.

“A little more left in you, Sugar?” Kylie asked sweetly, wiping some sweat from his brow. 

“Yeah,” he panted, desperately fumbling, struggling to find the right spot he had inside her again after he accidentally slipped out. “I just need to, shit, get this right.”

“Do you need help?”

“Fuck this.” 

“C’mere, it’ll be easier,” Roy quickly scooted up to hover over her chest where Kylie waited, resting on her elbows so she’d be the perfect height.

“Jesus…Christ.” He let out another shocked high pitched whimper when her tongue circled his dick. He grabbed her head on either side, guiding it where he wanted her to suck a little harder instead. 

“Don’t bother being gentle,” she purred against him, sending delicious shivers straight through his whole body, fogging up his already oxygen deprived mind even more.

“God, where have you been hiding all my life?” he joked in an effort to regain some control, fucking her face till he turned to jelly.

Legs weak, oversensitive and spent, he finally fell back, laying down opposite her; the both of them giggling at the absurdity of the night’s events that lead them here and the scattered bites and bruises they each showed for it. 

“Boy, that was a blast wasn’t it?” Kylie was the first to speak, again, patting Roy’s sweat-drenched thigh.

“Fuck,” was all he managed, still a chuckle in his voice. “We should do that again sometime.”

“Yeah, some time…” she lulled, feeling around the bed for where her phone had dropped when they walked in earlier. “I mean, it’s only about midnight now, what time do you have to leave?”

“Seriously?” Roy shot up like an overzealous meerkat, looking at her in disbelief. 

“Well?” She shrugged, hooking a leg over his so they were in a perfect scissor position again. “Might need a minute to catch my breath, but you tell me,” she teased, scooting her hips closer so they were touching again.

Both holding onto the other’s hips, they happily melted together again, laying back down to lazily enjoy another round as Roy sighed, “God, I love pride.”

Pride Challenge Points: 7685

[pashterlengkap]

My mom’s gay best friend was a boisterous, chain-smoking alcoholic. He taught me so much.

When I was kid, my mom’s best male friend was this big, boisterous guy named Lowell who never met a vice he didn’t indulge in. No, seriously. He chain-smoked, and he was always flying off to Vegas to gamble, often winning massive jackpots — which, of course, had me wondering how much money he’d spent to win those jackpots. Whenever we went out to eat, he always ordered steak, as big and as rare as possible. Related: I came out as trans while CEO of my company. My only regret is not doing it sooner. This is who I always was. I’m just living as that person out loud and unhidden.  And man, could this guy drink. Looking back, he was clearly an alcoholic — high-functioning, but an alcoholic nonetheless. Of course, he was an entertaining drunk — the life of the party. He always had everyone in stitches. Get the Daily Brief The news you care about, reported on by the people who care about you: Subscribe to our Newsletter In retrospect, I can also now see that Lowell was almost certainly a closeted gay man, but those were very different times, and that issue never came up with my mom and me. Lowell was a terrible influence on kids. Except, of course, he wasn’t. Once when I was in my early 20s, he told me I was looking very handsome, and I — being my typically self-conscious self — said, “No, I’m not.” And he said, “Don’t do that, Hartinger. You’re young, and you’re only gonna be young once! Enjoy it.” One weekend, my parents threw a big party with a hundred guests, and they asked me to be tend bar. I was eighteen — too young even to legally drink myself — and I’d never made drinks before. But, of course, I had Lowell to teach me. I don’t remember a single drink Lowell taught me to make, but I remember the feeling of confidence he gave me. A dorky, self-conscious kid like me — a bartender! Was it a crime letting an eighteen-year-old mix and serve drinks? I dunno. Things were different back in the 80s. But even at the time, I thought it was pretty interesting that my parents had friends like Lowell. Sure, my mom and dad were straight-laced and socially conservative — and I’ve already written how my mom was really, really high-strung. But I knew my parents were different from most of the ones at my Catholic high school or in our suburban neighborhood. A surprising number of their friends were intellectuals, sophisticates, and downright oddballs. Like Lowell. Once Lowell even stayed with my brother and me when my parents were out of town — which reminds me just how truly different things were back in the 80s. When I was twenty-three and home from grad school, I tried to rent one of my first apartments. But I was young and inexperienced, and the landlord insisted on my having a co-signer. My parents were out of town again, so I called Lowell. Would he mind being my co-signer? “Sure, Hartinger,” he said. “No problem.” But the landlord wanted his financial details so they could check on him to make sure he was credit-worthy. “I’m not giving them my account numbers!” he told me, indignant. “Look, Hartinger, why don’t I just write you a check for the first six months, and you can pay me back. Good? Good.” And that’s exactly what we did. From a young age, I was pretty fascinated by Lowell, but I was kind of appalled by him too — the way he lived. He was an impending train wreck, always about to crash. Meanwhile, my father had had a heart attack at age 31, and as a result, my mother made healthy living a top priority in our house — even before the “fitness craze” swept the country. I wasn’t thrilled with this at the time — the crazy Hartinger family with their strange, low-fat ice cream and always out hiking or jogging. But looking back, I think it’s the best possible gift my parents could have given me. If I’ve stayed fit over the years, I think it’s largely because eating well and being active is just what people in our family did. As for Lowell, the only time he pressed a bench was when… http://dlvr.it/SzH5VR

[scrybe-of-writings]

It's Normal - P03 & FtM Reader

TW: Gender Crisis, negative thoughts about Gender Crisis, internalized transphobia

oughh the first thing i ever post is a fic about two fellas being trans. go figure. fic's under the cut have fun go ham

I am down horrendously bad for this guy but I also kind of meant to leave this ambiguous on purpose so I guess it's your call on whether it's romantic or platonic or just two guys Being Silly

also I've always headcanoned p03 as being ftm but i guess if you think about it this could be interpreted as either? maybe? idk man robots and gender are equally complicated to write for all i know is that this guy is Not Cis

“I think… I’m trans,” you blurted one game. It had been quiet for a few minutes, nearly bordering on awkward—the two of you hadn’t taken a break for quite some time, and you had begun to run out of things to talk about.

P03 set down a card. “What?”

Immediately, your face began to burn. You should have expected this, really. Why did you think that he, of all people, would get it? Did he even know what being trans was? If so, he’d surely find you even more disgusting than he already had. Stupid. Stupid, stupid—

“Are you going to elaborate, or are you just going to keep your face in your hands?”

Oh. Um.

You lifted your head. “Uh. Trans. Transgender? I think I’m transgender.”

“The hell is that?” Jesus. Okay.

“Uhh. You know, like—um. Okay—so—you know how we have, like, the concept of gender, right? Like. Men and women and all that jazz. And you know how I’m like. A girl. But the thing is I’m not. But. Like. Okay maybe yeah I look like a girl but I’m not really because calling myself that is really super gross and sometimes I wonder if I’d feel better about myself if I cut my hair and stopped wearing blouses and—”

 “God. Okay, slow down. I can’t understand a thing you say when you ramble like that. It’s irritating.”

“I want to cut my hair. And wear bigger clothes. And make my voice lower? I guess?”

He just stared. God, you were a weirdo. Even if he was neutral before, there was no way he wouldn’t despise you after that explanation. Why couldn’t you keep your shit together for ten minutes? You could feel his gaze burning straight through you, but the worst part was that you couldn’t figure out why. He hadn’t said anything for several seconds, and you were getting extremely worried. What the hell was going on in that processor of his? You hated the fact that he was so hard to read sometimes.

The silence was getting too much. “So… there’s that.”

“So what’s the big deal?”

You blinked. “What?”

“I said, ‘what’s the big deal?’ Okay, you have long hair and stuff. Just change it. What, you want scissors? We’re in a factory. Made of metal. Find them yourself. Don’t leave hair on the floor.”

“You’re not grossed out?”

“Am I not supposed to be?” There it was. You knew this would happen. Of course. ‘Do what you like, but I still won’t be a fan’-type shit. God. Stupid. Stupid—

“Of course I’m still grossed out by you. You sweat and leave stray hairs everywhere and you make messes when you eat and I had to install a bathroom because of you. Do you know how much that screwed up the synergy we’ve got going on here? Our system? Beasts are disgusting. Was your haircut supposed to change that?” He scoffed, then went back to looking at his cards. “Your ideas are unhinged, challenger.” 

“No, me being trans.”

“What about it?”

“I—?” This was going in a very different direction than you'd thought it would. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little relieved, but part of you still wasn’t convinced that he wasn’t playing some kind of trick on you. “Doesn’t that freak you out?”

“No…? Did you hit your head? Do you have some kind of brain-eating parasite? Did you breathe in some of those freaky mushrooms? I told you not to go back there. Anyway, it happens to everyone. Chill out. You’re not special.”

Wait. “What?”

“What?” “What do you mean it happens to everyone?”

“I mean it happens to everyone.”

Did— Was he—?

“I… don’t think so.”

“Of course it does.”

“So it’s happened to Dredger? And Inspector? Leshy? The mages?”

“Okay, maybe not everyone,” he said, a little too quickly. “But it’s not some super interesting thing like I’m betting you’re hoping it is. Super normal. So calm down. Are we done?” P03’s eyes refused to meet your own, despite how much they were darting around, and you could hear clicks getting increasingly louder as he kept stacking the same cars on the table. “Can we get back to our game, now?”

Holy shit. You didn’t think you’d ever seen him this uncomfortable before. A few minutes prior you might have thought it was because you were the culprit—freaking him out with your weird gender moment and all—but you were beginning to suspect that maybe it was something else. You had never been one to pry, but…

“P03?”

“What.”

“Do… you want to talk about something?”

He hesitated, like he was about to let his walls down, even for a second, but stopped himself, and you saw the emotion leave his face again. Still he refused to show vulnerability, it seemed. He picked up his cards. “No. Not really.”

You picked yours up, too. “Alright. Well, if you change your mind… We’re a little bit in need of a conversation topic, aren’t we?”

“Tsk. Okay."

The room was quiet again, but after a while, you heard a very soft, "Scissors are in the middle drawer. You’re really stupid, you know that?”

“Ha, ha. Okay, buddy."

[gh0stchoir]

Welcome to the club, my boy! We wear or binders and trans-flags with pride! *high five?* Anyway: Can I request the Miya twins' childhood best friend coming out as trans to them? Just platonic fluff and wholesome stuff, (i.e. shopping for clothes). Don't ask me why, but I think they would be very supportive and the best guard dogs, next to Mad-Dog-Kyoutani.

“Just like us!”

Masterlist

Anime: Haikyuu!!

Character(s): Atsumu Miya, Osamu Miya

Pronouns used: he/him(trans afab)

Time set point: highschool

Warnings?: accidental misgendering(not by the twins)

A/n: this was so wholesome I smiled so much writing this,, n sorry if this is kinda short my head was goin bRRrRRRRRRRR shsksurujfj ALSO SRRY IF THIS IS KINDA SHITTY AAAAAH

Italics means past tense/memories, d/n means deadname

⚠️FEMALE ALIGNED= DNI OR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED.⚠️

Y/n sighed as he looked into the mirror, narrowing his eyes on himself. Today was the day, he’d tell his best friends that he wasn’t what they saw him as all his life. He wasn’t a girl, no, he was a boy. Just like his best friends.

Y/n sighed as he nervously fiddled with his phone, staring at the group chat between him and the twins. He sent a message earlier asking if it was okay for the two of them to come over to his house. They both agreed, less than half an hour ago saying they were on their way.

About five minutes later, a knock was heard from the front door. Y/n immediately got up and opened the door, seeing the twins looking at him.

Thankfully, they both called him by his name, not his old dead one. He had asked them to call him y/n instead of d/n(deadname) a bit ago, saying he felt like the name suited him better.

“Oh also!” Y/n smiled as he set down his bento on the table, eyes shining. The twins curiously looked at him, continuing to shove rice into their mouths. “I was wondering if you could call me Y/n instead of d/n. It feels more suitable for me, doesn’t it?”

Osamu thought to himself, saying the name again and again. He shrugged and nodded. “Yeah, that’s a nice name.” He began eating again.

“That’s a cool name! Of course we’ll call ya’ that! Don’t sweat it!” Atsumu smiled brightly.

“ ‘Eyo y/n! Happy to see me, huh?” Atsumu grinned, ruffling his hair and walking in the familiar house. Osamu shook his head and sighed, following suite. “Ya’ got a peanut for a brain, ‘Tsumu.”

“I do not!”

Y/n smiled, chuckling softly. The twins never failed to make him laugh and amuse him.

“Anyways…why’d ya’ invite us over so abruptly? Usually when ya’ wanna hang out, ya’ say before the weekend.” Atsumu smiled, raising a brow when he saw y/n begin to pace.

Osamu caught sight of this aswell, knowing he only did it when he was nervous about something.

“Well I uh- I wanted to tell you two something I’ve told no one…because I trust you both, a lot..” Y/n fiddled with his sweater, not breaking eye contact with the rug beneath him.

The twins curiously hummed in acknowledgment, both now intrigued.

Y/n inhaled deeply, and turned to face them. He breathed out slowly. “I-….I’m not a girl like you guys have always seen me as…I’m transgender…not a girl- I’m a boy..”

He felt warm tears begin to flow down his cheeks, not wanting them to say that he was wrong or something. He didn’t want them to laugh at him, tell him he was an idiot. Bad thoughts filled in his head as the silence grew unsettling and awkward.

“Is that why ya’ wanted to be called y/n and not- yknow the old name?” Osamu walked up to him, grabbing a tissue and wiping his tears. Y/n nodded softly, eyes blurry from the tears that kept coming.

Atsumu smiled and patted him on the back.

“Damn, now yer even more cooler! Not because yer trans or anythin’-! Just..because now our little friend group is more aligned! If ya haven’t noticed, me ‘nd my brother both are gay.”

Osamu sighed and nodded. “True, we never really…expressed that we were attracted to men. One day we kinda both brought up that we once both had a crush on some guy in middle school.”

Y/n stifled a laugh, watching as Atsumu huffed and crossed his arms. “I hope..this doesn’t change anything though..” Y/n mumbled, looking at the two of them. “I haven’t told my family yet-scared they’ll say something bad about it..I just trust you two a lot.”

“Of course it ain’t changed nothin’! In fact, we can go shoppin’ for some new clothes!” Atsumu smiled happily. The idea of just helping y/n by atleast getting clothes for him made him ecstatic.

Y/n looked at Osamu for reassurance, eyes lighting up when he nodded. The twins waited for y/n to change into some pants and a random t-shirt, Atsumu giving him his hoodie to hide his chest better. The twins kept in mind to get him a binder.

“They all fit really nicely..are you sure this isn’t gonna be expensive?” Y/n handed the clothes to Osamu who slightly narrowed his eyes.

“Expensive or not, ya’ like them. We are getting them for ya’.” Osamu ruffled y/n’s hair and led him to the checking out place in the store. The cashier smiled as he made small talk with the two, ringing up all the clothing. Y/n looked to see Osamu sighing and looking around. He sighed and rubbed his temple.

He turned back to y/n with an annoyed look. “Gotta go look for ‘Tsumu, be right back.” He walked off, searching for his idiotic twin as y/n nervously held the money in his hands. The cashier finished ringing up the clothes and looked back to y/n. “Well ma’am, that’ll be-“

“You mean sir”.

The twins appeared behind y/n, both with serious and slightly mad faces. The cashier gave an apologetic look and muttered out a quick ‘sorry, my bad’ before receiving the money and handing back their change, watching as the twins practically dragged y/n out of the store.

“Oi! Stop pulling me!” Y/n huffed, crossing his arms as he looked at both of the twins.

“Did he say anything else harmful?” Osamu set down the bags he held and gave an apologetic look. Meanwhile Atsumu glared at the cashier, cracking his knuckles.

Y/n sighed and ran a hand through his hair, slumping down on a bench. “No, only that..and ‘Tsumu, stop staring. It’s rude.”

The blonde whined, being to go on a rant as to why he should be able to “teach the guy a lesson” to make sure he doesn’t make a mistake like that again. Osamu deadpanned. He was extremely close to shutting his brother up by punching him.

“Ok ok we get it..anyways..wanna go home? I mean, we have been here for a few hours, and we have a couple of bags.” Y/n looked between the two. The both nodded, agreeing that it was time to go since it was almost nine pm.

As they all walked back to y/n’s house, they made small talk and passed along a few jokes. Y/n sighed softly and gazed up at the sky above. Specs of light, better known as stars, littered the sky. Some making constellations.

“Thank you both for today…it really means a lot, considering I’ve known you two since practically forever.”

Atsumu grinned, “of course, that’s what best friends are for. Now don’t you go forgetten that we are always here for ya’. If not the both of us, than one will be atleast.”

“He has a point. We will be here to help every step of the way” Osamu agreed with his brother, for once.

Y/n covered his face with his hoodie sleeve, wiping the tears away. He looked back up at his best friends with a smile.

“And ya’ better stay away ya’ hear me!! Or else we’ll kick yer butts again!” Atsumu huffed, watching the group scurry off with bruises and bloodied faces. He turned back to see his brother tending to y/n’s wounds.

“I’m sorry for them..just a bunch of stupid bullies. But like ‘Tsumu said, we’ll protect you again if they come back.”

He realized in that moment, they weren’t lying. They’d be with him, helping him, in every step he took. As best friends do.

“Thank you so much..”

[brownfrogs]

IM FREAKING OUT YALL!!!!!

There was a AMA with Paul (Hanzo’s VA) on Instagram and he had some wonderful hcs!! Original thread by @npchanzo on twitter but im just here to transcribe it on the blog for latter keeping hehe.

-Hanzo is a dog person, and probably wouldn’t work at the cat café in Kanezaka. (I KNEW IT!!)

-Hanzo would be a great father. People who have regrets like him would want a better life for their children. (GUYS?? MY HEART 🥺😭???)

-Paul would like to see Hanzo interact with McCree. 👀👀👀

-Someone asked if Hanzo has a significant other and Paul said he *thinks* they won’t give him one in OW2 (this is his very personal opinion and shouldn’t be taken as the absolute truth)

-Hanzo would sing to old love songs beautifully and apparently Paul sung in his voice the classic Besame Mucho??? I NEED THAT CLIP NOW

-He said he doesn’t have any particular hcs for Trans Hanzo but he would find that very interesting.

-Someone asked him what costume Hanzo would probably wear, and he said he’d like to see him dress up as Roadhog or one of the female heroes. (Awooga)

-Paul would like to see more story with Hanzo and Genji. They mostly interacted just in the cinematic and not much else and I am inclined to agree.

-@AoNoHasuArt asked if Hanzo is or was a smoker and Paul answered thinks he might have been.

Thank god for Paul bc we are eating tonight fellas.....giving us what we need....thank u Paul

Happy Bastard Pride!!!!!!

[sohotthateveryonedied]

Gender? In THIS Economy?

Read here on AO3!

Summary:

Duke is questioning stuff and goes to Tim for advice. (feat. trans!Tim and nonbinary!Duke)

“Here you go. One Batburger with extra pickles, extra onions, and extra extra mayonnaise.” Duke drops the paper takeout bag unceremoniously into Tim’s lap. “Your taste buds need a tune-up, bro.”

Tim unwraps his burger and takes a bite. Batburger may be questionable when it comes to copyright laws, but damn if they don’t pile on the condiments better than any fast food restaurant in Gotham. “Sounds to me like you simply haven’t reached the sky-scraping level of enlightenment that I have, grasshopper.”

“Enlightenment would have been going to Red Robin and using your uniform to get a discount,” Duke says. He sits beside Tim on the rooftop’s edge, their legs dangling side by side a hundred feet above Gotham’s plunging gray streets. He digs into his own burger and makes a face. “Enlightenment would also be getting the Robin Nuggets next time. This tastes like dried leather.”

“I like it,” Tim says with a shrug. “It has personality.”

“So does raw sewage, but you don’t see me eating that.”

Tim concedes the point. His communicator buzzes in his belt. He checks the screen and discovers an alert from Cass composed entirely of clown emojis and red harlequin diamonds.

Duke notices. “Should we get that?”

Tim pockets the communicator. “Nah, Spoiler’s got it. We have time to relax.” And he’s not about to pass up quality time with the one little brother who doesn’t hate him. It’s hard enough as it is for Tim and Duke to find the time, what with them being on opposite sleeping schedules and work snatching their attention away with grabby, toddler-sized hands.

“Don’t get a lot of that during the day shift,” Duke says. “Every time an alarm goes off, it’s my business.”

Tim knocks him in the side with his elbow. “That’s what you get for turning to the light side instead of kicking it in the shadows with us. More employees to go around.” He sips his soda for a moment. “Why did you come out tonight, anyway? I thought you stayed in on weeknights.”

“Right. I actually wanted to talk to you about something.” Duke says it carefully, like he’s testing the waters. “I need advice.”

Tim has to admit that his chest puffs out a little at that. It’s not often people come to him for advice when Dick and Barbara are right there, all full of adult wisdom that Tim is too pitifully shrimpy to possess. “What’s up?”

“It’s kind of...personal.”

“Yes, Bruce does have special powder for suit-chafing. It’s in the cabinet under the first-aid supplies.”

“It’s not that,” Duke says, though he snorts in half-hearted laughter. He looks down at his hands like he’s dreading the words lodged in his throat. “What was it like, realizing you were a dude?”

One of Tim’s eyebrows shoots up. “Oh.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. It’s an invasive question.”

“No, no, it’s fine. You just caught me off guard, is all.” It’s not like this is the first time someone has asked. Tim used to be uncomfortable talking about it, but he’s grown up since then. Talking about his trans journey is as normal as talking about what he did yesterday. He eats a fry. “What do you want to know?”

Duke searches Tim’s face for a sign that he’s lying, that he should back off. When he doesn’t find one, he asks, “How old were you when you figured it out?”

Tim thinks back. “Nine, I think? But even before that, it’s not like I ever really felt like a girl. I knew there was something wrong, but I didn’t know what. When I first heard about what being transgender meant, everything I’d been feeling until then clicked into place.”

“What was it like?” Duke asks, “growing up the way you did? Presenting as a girl when you knew you weren’t?”

Tim shrugs. “I don’t know. It was life at the time. I dealt with it.”

“Was it hard? Pretending to be something you weren’t?”

Tim doesn’t know what answer Duke is looking for, or why he’s so interested, but he won’t ask. “My parents always had this idea of me being the perfect daughter, all obedient and graceful and crap. I’m pretty sure their hope was to eventually marry me off to the highest bidder so they could reap the business benefits.”

“That sounds awful.”

Tim shrugs again. “I didn’t start feeling any different than I should have until around six or seven. I was always a tomboy. I liked doing boy stuff and playing sports, but my parents thought it was a phase I would grow out of. They’d make me wear dresses and go to fancy parties with them, all the while I just wanted to claw my skin off and go home.”

He remembers the nights he would lie awake in bed, imagining what it must be like to have been born someone else. Anyone else. To grow up as a little boy who was allowed to run around, to get dirty, to be himself instead of following some arbitrary guidelines someone else drew up the day he was born. He imagined what it would feel like to answer to a different name than the one he’d been given, which grated on his ears the longer time went on, like an itchy sweater he couldn’t shed. It was hell.

He gives Duke a sly grin. “But the upside of having absent parents is that there aren’t as many people watching you. No one cared if I went to school in the boy’s uniform instead of the girl’s. No one was there to stop me from cutting my hair short the way I wanted it.”

Duke's eyes widen. “You cut your own hair?”

“It went exactly the way you’re thinking. I had to go to the barber the next day and have them fix it because it was so uneven. But by the end of the day, it was the way I always imagined it. I was finally starting to look like the person I wanted to be.”

Duke stares intently at the remains of his burger as if the universe’s answers to an unspoken question were written in sesame seeds. “Did it get better after that? Did you feel...at peace?”

“‘Course not. The world wasn’t magically fixed just because I took a step in the right direction. My problems didn’t go away.” When he says that, Duke looks almost...disappointed? “But,” Tim adds, “it was better than it was before. I still had to act for my parents and the rest of the world, but I didn’t have to hide from myself anymore.”

“How did your parents react when they found out?”

Tim grimaces. “They...didn’t take it well.” He can still hear his father’s voice in his memories, bringing up therapy and camps and whatever places he could think of that would “fix” his little girl.

“But, after a while,” Tim continues, “it was clear that I wasn’t going to change my mind anytime soon. I guess they figured it would be easier to go along with it than fight me every step of the way. They still didn’t like it, but they tolerated it.”

Duke is quiet.

“Why do you ask?” Tim prods.

Duke’s expression doesn’t give anything away. It’s nights like this when Tim can see how perfectly Duke fits into this mental institution they call a family. For all that Duke thrives in the light, he keeps his cards just as close to his chest as the rest of them. He gives Tim a half-smile. “Just wondering.”

“Okay.”

They fall into weighted silence, the scales tipping on either side of their post, but never settling. Tim waits. He finishes his burger and busies himself with reorganizing the pouches in his belt, giving Duke the privacy to think.

“I don’t know,” Duke starts after several minutes, “if I’m a boy.” He looks at Tim. “I think I might be something else.”

“Okay,” Tim says calmly. “What do you feel like?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve always felt different, y’know? When I was a kid, it was because I was smarter than everyone in my class. And it was fine, because I knew what it was and how it worked and why it was a good thing, being the smart one. It made sense. Time went on, the other kids started catching up, but that mismatched feeling never went away. I never felt right in my skin.”

Duke’s face rises to the dark clouds, the Batsignal shining from the top of the police station like a holy beacon. “Then I met Batman. My powers started to come in and everything clicked into place, all at once. That was why I never felt like I fit in with everyone else, because I was different. I had powers. That must have been it.”

“But it wasn’t,” Tim guesses.

Duke shakes his head. “I thought it would be. I mean, what else could it have been, you know? It should have explained why I never felt at home in my identity. But time goes on, I learn how to use my powers, and it fixes some of it, but not everything. There’s still part of me that looks in the mirror and sees something off. Some detail out of place.”

“Do you feel like a girl?” Tim ventures to ask.

Duke folds over the corner of his straw wrapper again and again in tiny triangles. “Nah, I doubt it. I like some feminine things, but I don’t think I’m a girl. Or a guy. I think...I might be nonbinary?”

Tim does his best to channel Bruce’s “supportive dad” energy and smiles. “Okay. What pronouns do you want to use?”

“They/them, maybe? For a while?”

“Duly noted.” He puts a hand on Duke’s shoulder. “I really do appreciate you telling me.”

Duke rubs the back of their neck, their cheeks flushing. “It feels good to say out loud. Not just in my head.”

“Do you think you’re going to tell anyone else? You don’t have to if you’re not ready, but our whole family will support you.”

“Yeah.” Duke picks at their nails, nodding absently. “I know they will. I’m not worried about that.”

“Then what are you worried about?”

Duke takes a deep breath in, and Tim is reminded of a balloon close to bursting. “My parents aren’t dead. I’m going to get them back. And when I do...what are they going to think when they wake up after half a decade and find out that their son isn’t their son anymore? What if they don’t like the person they see?”

Tim can’t say that he hadn’t swum with the same thoughts years ago, back when the person who is Tim Drake was still on the drawing board. But there’s a difference between his situation and Duke’s. “Your parents love you, Duke. They’re not going to stop loving you just because you’ve grown up since they last saw you.”

“What if it’s too much? The superpowers and the crime-fighting and the new gender...it’s a lot to take in.”

“Well, sure,” Tim says. “It might take some time for them to get used to it, but this is who you are. They’re going to love it just as much as they love the rest of you.”

Duke smiles, and if their eyes are a little misty, Tim pretends not to notice.

“Besides,” he says. “If I were you, I’d just lead with the superpowers thing. Anything after that sounds perfectly acceptable.”

[goldenchan-fx2thepeacock]

Friendly Neighbourhood Phantom

rKay, y’all remember how I said I would write a fic for that one post I reblogged? Well, Wattpad still hates me, but here ya go.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Danny was bored. He’d finally mastered the powers that decided to show up when he ‘died’ in the portal accident, but nothing was happening. Not that it was bad, just boring. He felt like he should do something. And when he overheard Sam talking about volenteering, he got an idea.  “Sam, what was that thing you were talking about volenteering for?” He asked. “Oh, it’s a soup kitchen not far from here. You thinking about helping out?” she replied. “Well, yeah. I was thinking about using these powers for something useful,” “Danny, that’s genius. But volenteering is a big step. Maybe you could just help out people in ghost form?” “Huh, that’s not a bad idea. Thanks Sam!” He ran to class.

After school, he put his backpack down and changed. The first few times it was painful, but now it was a numb tingling sensation. He knew about the more sketchy areas in town and sped off. 

He set down in a playground with a bunch of kids. There was one sitting off on her own. She was glumly playing with the sand.  “Hey kid, want to play a game?” He asked. She stared at him. At first, she seemed startled, but she smiled. “Yeah! Let’s play hide and seek!” She giggled. He smiled. “Okay, I’ll count to ten and you go hide. Just don’t leave the playground,” He turned around and closed his eyes. She giggled and ran off. Once he finished counting to ten, he turned back around. He heard giggling from her, but decided to wander when looking for her. “Oh my gosh, you’re so good at hiding. I wonder where you could be,” He heard giggling behind him. After looking around a few trees, he acted like he’d just spotted the play structure. “Maybe you’re hiding in here?” He peeked under the structure. She giggled up at him. “You found me! Now it’s your turn to hide!” She ran off to the tree. He dashed into the slide and hid just in view. She spotted him immediately. “Ha! I found you!” “You did!” they played a few more rounds. 

They were the only ones left when her dad showed up.  “Iliana? Where are you?” He yelled. She dashed out from the play structure.  “Right here daddy!” She yelled and ran over to Danny. He smiled at her and waved goodbye.  “Iliana! That’s dangerous, don’t play with demons,” The dad snatched her away from Danny.  “He’s not a demon!” Iliana said. “I’ve heard about things like you,” The dad narrowed his eyes at Danny. “Stay away from my daughter,” “We were just playing hide and seek!” Danny protested. “And I’m not a demon,” “Preying on children is wrong. Go back to hell,” Danny held back the tears and left. He knew the feeling. Transphobes liked to tell him to go to hell, but this was horrible. 

Once he got home and finished his homework, he looked through his insta. Then he got a random idea. He went to the account blurb and clicked “make new account”. He took a selfie in his ghost form and set it as his profile pic. What to call it? He drummed his fingers on the desk and an idea came to him. He typed it in. Danny Phantom. He posted a bunch of anti bullying posts and selfies. He’d take pictures when volenteering as Phantom and put them up. 

When he got to school in the morning, there was the usual buzz. Sam looked at him. Tucker was on vacation for a few more days.  “So, how’d ‘volenteering’ go?” she asked. “Pretty good. I played hide and seek with a little girl. Is that a good start?” “Sounds good to me. But pretty good with you usually means that something happened,” She knew him too well. “I got called a demon,” He snapped. She grimaced. “Oh, Danny. I’m sorry. What was it?” “I think it’s just the whole ghost thing. I doubt he could tell I’m trans,” “Well, that’s gotta count for something!” “Maybe,” He sat down in Lancer’s class and pulled out a notebook.  “Anything else happen?” “I started an account on Instagram for ghost me. I called it Danny Phantom. Should be easy enough to find,” “Don’t you think anyone’ll notice the parralels between that and Danny Fenton?” “The people here are too stupid to guess that. Besides, no one’s gonna connect the dots between me and a random ghost,” “Good point,” Lancer walked into the class.  “Alright class, you know the drill,” Danny pulled out the novel they were reading this week. 

Danny spent the rest of the week helping out in random ways and putting the pictures up on insta. Maybe it was kinda cheap, but unlike some accounts he’s seen, he was doing it solely for the purpose of raising awareness, not to make a good face. There were a few other derogatory terms thrown his way, but it wasn’t horrible. Today, he was going to start volenteering for real. He set down in front of the soup kitchen.  “Listen, we don’t have soup till later. Come back then,” A guy wearing a big apron said. “Actually, I was going to volenteer to help out,” Danny said. The guy turned around.  “You got a bit of a look going on there. Why do you wanna volenteer?” “To help out the community. And I can’t help looking this way,” “Huh. Well, get an apron on and help me make this soup,” The guy turned around. Danny obliged.  “Uh, you never told me your name,” Danny said meekly. “Milton’s the name. And since I gave you mine, I’m gonna need yours,” “Danny,” “That all? No last name?” “You didn’t give me yours,” “Nah, but the kids like you usually boast about it. For a teen, you’re pretty humble,” “Thanks?” “Okay, enough small talk. Help me stir this while I get the other ingredients,” Milton thrust a long wooden spoon into Danny’s hands and walked off. Danny started stirring the big pot on the stove. He smiled and hummed a little tune to keep his attention. Milton walked back in. “No picture taking? You really are humble,”  “I guess it just didn’t occur to me. I mostly made my account to tell people to be nicer to the less fortunate,” (Yes, the first part is a Toph line, but less condesending in this case) He kept stirring but didn’t pull his phone out.  “You kids these days. Always an ulterior motive,” “I mean, I’m a ghost, so I could’ve been dead for hundreds of years for all you know,” Milton stared at him. “A ghost?”  “Jeez, don’t panic or anything. Not all ghosts are malevolent. And I’ve only been ‘dead’, per se, for about a month,” “I thought it was just dumb hair dye and contacts,” Milton gaped.  “Yeah, teenager just casually floats and nothing’s weird about that. Got the ingredients?” “Wha- oh yeah. Here,” Milton dumps the vegetable in the pot. “Sorry to scare you like that. I just didn’t want you calling me a demon or something when you found out,” “Why would anyone do that? Seems cruel,” “People don’t often care about anything but their prejudices,”  “Generalization or stereotype there?” “Stereotype. I guess. Let’s just make soup,” He wasn’t about to spill his troubles onto a random stranger. 

He stood in the window giving out soup. Sam was standing not far off taking pictures. He wasn’t completely sure if he should keep posting. But it was kinda late to do that now. Danny Phantom had started to gain attention Danny Fenton never would.  “What the hell? I didn’t know Milton was the type to let freaks help out,” One skinny teenager in ripped clothes said.  “I didn’t know there was a reason to not let a person help the less fortunate,” Danny handed him a bowl of soup.  “Sorry man. I guess the stress of having to come here everyday is starting to get to me,” “It’s okay. When Milton takes his turn, wanna talk about it?”  “Thanks dude,” The skinny guy sat down at one of the many tables set up. “No problem. It’s the least I can do,” Danny smiled at him. Milton walked up behind him.  “I’ll take it for fifteen minutes. Ghost probably don’t need breaks, but I’d feel bad if I made you do all the work,” Danny nodded and ditched the apron. He phased through the wall and floated over to the skinny guy. 

The guy looked startled.  “You’re floating,” He stared at Danny’s feet.  “Ya know, probably could’ve told you that myself,” Danny smirked.  “Danny! Is your shift done or something?” Sam ran over.  “Nah, I just was gonna let this guy talk about his problems to someone,” “You’re a ghost,” The guy looked lost. “Yes and no. Semantics. Listen, I’m not here to tell you about my weird life. I’m here so you don’t completely lose it from having to support yourself,” “Thanks again for that. So your name is Danny?” “Yeah. This is Sam. What’s your name?” “Jack,” Danny held back the snort that came with thinking of his bumbling father. Bumbling couldn’t have been more accurate. Jack Fenton gave Danny bumblebee vibes.  “Nice to meet you Jack. What did you need to talk about?” Sam snorted behind Danny. “Shutup,” Danny slid into the seat across from Jack.  “What’s funny?” Jack said. “Nothing. My dad’s name is Jack and you look absoloutely nothing like him. Sam is drawing certain parralels that don’t need to be there,” “Your dad? Do ghosts have dads?” “Half ones do,” Sam said.  “We’re not talking about that. Why do you have to come here. You don’t look much older than 15,”  “If it weren’t for the glowy hair and eyes, I’d say you don’t look older than 12,” “I’m fourteen,” “Close enough,” “Whatever. Why do you come here?”

Danny became a hit with the soup kitchen users. He’d talk to people about they’re issues with an air of concern. He didn’t shut anyone down no matter how small the issue. Soon, he wasn’t a freaky prospect, he was the ghost who listened to people’s issues.  “I think we should get Jazz to help you out at the soup kitchen,” Tucker said one day at lunch. “I mean, she knows, so it can’t be that weird. It’ll give her some field experience with helping people out too. Yeah, that’ll work,” Danny took a bite out of the glowing sandwich.  “Are you sure that’s safe?” Sam poked it.  “Eating ectoplasm won’t kill me anymore than I already am,” “Touche,” Tucker said. “That’s not how touche works, at least I don’t think so,” Danny replied.  “And you’re in academic english,” Sam laughed. “You are too! And english is like, my worst class,”  “Fair enough. But yeah, getting Jazz to help out is a good idea,” She forked her veggy lasagna. “Okay! I’ll tell her tonight,”

The soup kitchen wasn’t the only place Danny volenteered. He kept up the random helping and stopped a few crimes when he came across them. It wasn’t like he went looking for crimes, but it came with the territory. He stopped a car crash one time. Danny Phantom slowly became a hit on Instagram. Danny had to turn off notifcations at night. He opened it and gaped.  “500 followers overnight! And it’s going up?! Holy shit,” He turned the notifications back off and did his morning routine. It was break day, so he glared at the sports bra he knew he’d have to wear.  “If I find that ghost boy, I’ll tear him apart molecule by molecule!” Jack Fenton said. Danny winced. It was normal at this point, but he didn’t like it very much. “Oh Jack. You know we should study it,” He head his mom say. Danny didn’t know what was worse, his dad’s threats of death or his mother’s dissociation.  “Dann-o! We’re going looking for the ghost boy today!” Jack said excitedly.  “What did he do wrong?” “Nothing, but he probably has an ulterior motive to all this helping stuff!” Jack replied. Danny sighed and pulled out the cereal.  “That’s the ecto contaminated cereal Danny,” Maddie said. Mom, that’s what he meant.  “Oh, whoops,” He put it back and grabbed a new box. “Why’re we keeping it anyways?” “It’s an experiment!” Mom replied.  “You guys and all your ridiculous ghost stuff need to stop it,” Jazz huffed as she walked down the stairs.  “But we have proof of ghosts now! And some of them can get they’re hands on human tech,” Jack- er Dad, said. “You mean social media? People could just taken random picture of a random guy doing that and made something out of it,” “He’s floating Jazzibear, that means something!” J- Dad said loudly.  “Photo editting,” Jazz knew it was hopeless, but she did it for Danny. “Believe what you want,” Dad grabbed some fudge from the fridge. 

Jazz and Danny walked to the soup kitchen. Well, Jazz walked and Danny floated. It was Saturday, so they were taking an all day shift.  “500 followers Jazz! That’s crazy for one night!” “That’s great!” “I know. Oh look, we’re here,” Danny sped over to the kitchen while Jazz sat at one of the tables. “Hey, it’s my favourite ghost,” Milton said. “More like the only ghost you know,” “Yeah, let’s stir this pot and make soup,” Milton laughed. Maybe everything wasn’t great, but Danny was okay with that. He smiled and stirred the pot of soup. 

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And, la fin. Maybe it sucks, but I felt like writing something for this. My first oneshot actually. Let me know if you want more of this! The idea came from a post I read by @redrobin-detective. I reblogged it for those who want to see the original concept. Sorry if my grammar is a little strange to you. I’m from Canada, and grammar here is different than the States. 

[theghostofblackbunnymask]

Hii !! I was wondering if you can do me a match up if youre up for it 👉👈 romantic pls !!

For a short answer: I have anger issues, memory issues,,, i'm a c!bench trio and c!fundy kinnie, trans af and i have a rock collection

For a long answer, well:

I'm usually quiet and don't speak up a lot when around strangers but when i'm with people i know (whether be as close friends or aquaintances), i'm pretty loud and chaotic.

I have a hard time communicating with people, even if i'm close to them, due to the fact i keep daydreaming and i have a lot of issues. I also get annoyed and/or pissed off easily, even for no reason and just start wrecking havoc everywhere (i.e throwing shoes at walls, kicking cabinets). I have an awful memory, like c!ranboo but less extreme

i like rocks, listening to weirdcore songs while laying in bed, daydreaming, writing and eating things that you arent suppose to eat (i.e markers, lids of containers)

And i am touch starved af but is too afraid to speak abt it <33

So sorry I'm answering you late my dear! Also dearie, if you haven't already, please go to a doctor about you eating things like markers and lids, it could be extremely dangerous for your health, and I don't want you to get hurt. After some thinking, I think you would match perfectly with Karl Jacobs!

I matched you up with Karl for 2 reasons

1- Both of you have memory issues

2- You daydream quite often, causing you to have trouble communicating with people, and I can Karl having the same problem, but with Time Travel.

I can see Karl helping you with your rock collection by collecting rocks that no longer exist, so everytime he goes back into the past, he'd collect a rock you don't have yet and doesn't exist anymore.

You and Karl have bracelets you use as a way to remember each other, so if Karl or you were to forget each other, you just have to look at your wrist and their name is written in yarn.

Karl would try to improve your social skills by having talks to you for short periods of time, and then talk to you for even longer so you get better at talking to people. But if you're not comfortable with that, he would give you a stuffed animal and tell you for at least 10 minutes a day, you'll have to have a conversation with the animal, and once you get better, he'll boost it up to 20 minutes, and so on and so forth, it may not help, but he's trying his best.

When you ever start to get annoyed or pissed off, Karl would try to calm you down cause he's scared he did something wrong and just doesn't remember. And after that he'd clean up you mess and make you your favorite food.

Karl tries to to keep markers and lids away from you, since he doesn't want you to get sick.

Karl will find out about your touch starvedness sooner down the line, and since Karl's main love language is touch, he'll be cuddling, kissing, hand holding, and carrying you all day. Karl loves to fall asleep in your arms, it makes him feel safe.

Karl heard Weirdcore music to the first time when he asked what you were listening to, and after that day you and him would sit down in bed, writing little stories as you two listen to weirdcore music, you two even dance to it.

Karl would definitely take you time Traveling with him, and sometimes he even let's you choose what era you guys go to, but he always warns you that you may lose some of your memory, so he gives a memory book so you don't forget anything.

They're been times were Karl has forgotten you, and once he remembers he'll do everything in his power to make it up to you.

Late at night Karl will hug you and never let you go, want to go get food, you can wait till the morning, cuddles are now.