#you know. the women who look like what a manly man like him Should want and therefore aren't women whose interest he can just ignore

[normcore-tertiary-character]

Eddie having a panic attack because the store clerk assumes the woman shopping with him and his son is his son's mom is VERY funny. Gayass homosexual.

[jocelynscrazyideas]

Baby I’m home! | Nico Hischier x Reader

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Warnings: smut, language, not much of dirty talk (there literally is none).

Summary: Nico come back from a roadie in Minnesota, they had lost their chance to get into the playoffs. Nico gets h0rny and…

A:N- HELP I’m so tired it’s so hard to keep writing, again I don’t have faith that I’ll like this piece but I spent 2 days trying to write it so here 🫶😉🍇

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

After a roadie Nico returns home. The devs went to Minnesota and they had lost. Originally you were asked to come, actually the coaching staff were going to pay for some of the WAGs to go. Last time, the boys had gotten in a huge argument about the gameplay, and who should be on the first lineup. That’s not in their hands, it’s in the coaches and the stats of the players. Anyway, to keep them from miss behaving, the women were allowed to come.

“Baby!” Nico yells out for me in his American accent. He’s wearing his white tank top that stretch over his back and biceps, wow. He’s a smoke show.

“I wish you went! The Girls went out to the bars and the boys stayed behind and watched bar fights break out.” Nico explains. I’m actually quite nervous that he’s not showing any emotions.

Why is this loss so important? Because it was the devils last chance to win or even tie the game to get into the playoffs. Statistically in team stats overall no, they shouldn’t make it, but in number in points from each individual players had, yes they would have made it and probably win. John is an incredible defender, and so is Luke. Jack is a beautifully gifted skater and Jesper has the moves to skate within seconds across the whole rink. Ofcirese, Nico. My beautiful man. He is the most manly boy in the team, big muscles, coordination, and most importantly his social media presence. Everyone loves him.

I mean I love him.

“I know! I’m sorry.” I shout from our bedroom upstairs. Hear bags drop from downstairs and I think I hear some mumbling. I didn’t go on the roadie because I had work and I’m getting the worst headache for the last week.

“I brought up some meds. Does it still hurt?” Nico questioned and he pulls his tank top off and threw it onto our hamper that rots in our closet. Holy heaven of Abs. He’s just so fucking lovable, I don’t care about the fact he’s hot, but the way he carries himslef, he knows that no matter what he does, it’ll be intentional for him.

“Yes, thank you bubba.” I responded as I take the bottle of pills and take two pills. Yes, my head hurts so much I took two.

“Can we grab something to eat? I hungry.” Nico asked as he takes me by my hips.

He grasped onto my hips and ricks me back and forth, I can hear his stomach growl as he rests his head onto my shoulder. He shoved his head into the crook of my neck, I can feel him take my perfume from my body and pull it into his lungs. He’s smiling, I can feel his lips against my ear, and he starts to wrap his legs around my feet.

He starts to hurt me around and now I’m facing him, he’s looking straight into my eyes. He takes my hand and he places it to his chest. I can feel his heartbeat, and it’s pounding. My stomach drops as he sweeps my from my feet and onto the bed.

“Do you want food? Or we can stay in and shower, then you know do whatever.” Nico suggested, I can feel him slipping away from me. He gets up and grabs his bag.

“You better not get your gear! Its stinks!” I yell after him as nico turns to the stairs to grab his away game items.

“Baby!” Nico shouts for me. “Can you grab some milk? I wnat pasta.” Nico I a sucker for some creamy and thick pasta.

I run down the stairs and I slide into the kitchen in my socks. I have on my- well Nico’s favorite shirt on me, it’s a blue halter top that wraps around my neck with beads, it has shells laces together at the bottom almost as if it were a belly chain, and the shirt is cropped above my belly button and it’s ribbed. It’s cute, but it works better for a swimsuit cover up.

“You look sexy.” Nico slips as he eyes my shorts.

Nico,a boxers are a bit to big for me butt I slide them on anyway, and the best part is that it’s plain black, so it really does match my outfit, it’s called my “I don’t fucking care” outfit. I love the outfit, nice and short and skin tight so I can get every little breeze in, especially since it’s March and season is almost over.

“Are you gonna grab the milk? Also while you’re at it could you grab the packaged rav?” Nico requested as he slips his old man slippers on. He collects his supply’s such as a pan, the milk I gave him and the ravioli, and of course some pesto. It’s not really pasta, but he diced up some cheese, slipped some butter in the ravioli, and he stirred everything together. He lets it set as he grabs two plates. I didn’t wnat any but he knew I haven’t eaten since he left. He puts some buttered pesto cheesy ravioli on my plate and as the man he is, he cooked it so he gets more. He just flips the pan upside down and gathers all of the pasta.

He finished up with dishes since we finished the ravioli, it was delicious.

“So, you wanna shower?” Nico asked me and I can feel him getting really close to me. He picks my hands up and we start to slow dance to the sound of construction in the neighborhood.

“Yeah, well YOU need to shower more, you’re stinky.” I say in a sarcastic way. He looks me dead in the eye and he picks me up. He carry’s me up the stairs and he throws me down onto the bed.

The blunt force of getting absolutely demolished by this man felt oddly great. He pulls my hair to the side and he starts to kiss my neck. I feel his stubble graze my skin. He’s warm breath is trapped in between my jawline and his lips. He pulls away and rubs his chest, he walks out of the room.

I hear the shower turn on, he moans along the sound of water hitting the grout in the bathroom. Nico enters the room eyeing his next meal.

Me.

I took my clothes off and I lay back as if I didn’t move. Nico runs towards me and kisses my forehead all the way down to my belly button. He licks my creases. He holds my breasts as he nibbles down onto my thigh. He looks up at me grinning, and I understand what is about to happen.

~

Water is everywhere. Nico had picked me up and slid his pants off. We had been teasing eachother for about three minutes, then he got to needy. His very hard veiny cock hits his abdomen every time I kiss him, it’s like it has its on pulse.

“Never stop.” Nico says as I go down to my knees. I kiss his v-line and he holds onto my hair. He grips onto me and he pressed his back against the wall. I lick his tip, and then I start to pump. I again start to take him into my mouth, I feel like gagging, it’s so gross, I c at take the taste of cum, but for him I will. I start to moan, enjoying my time trying to please him. Nico throws his head back and starts to get loud, he bangs his hand against the opposite wall, and he’s hunched over. I have very little space to suck. The water starts to get cold so I get up from going down on him. I turn the water to a hotter temperature and I massage his biceps, he starts to get really really warm. He dick is really pushed up against himself.

Nico looks like he’s going to cum, I mean he already did in my mouth, but now he’s opening his mouth anbd says “Turn.” One work that this man says to me and I fold. Nico takes me by my waist and bends down. He’s on one knee as he grips onto me. Nico pumps himself, he’s jerking hard enough to cause me cum. He starts to kiss me down under. I look down and he’s on both knees now, making love to my pussy.

I start to move, I can’t take it anymore, I pull his hand away from my upper body and force three fingers up my hole.

“Woah, woah, you can’t get it to fast.” Nico pulls out and sucks on his finger. He gets up and he pulls me onto his chest. I feel his cock on my back. I turn on my heels and I find Nico smirking down at me. I lay down in the shower as steam fills the large room.

“Legs.” Nico says, but in his switz accent. I do as I’m told and I start to run my clit.

“You’re soaking.” Nico eyes my pussy as he pumps into me. I feel his tip, now his whole cock is inside. He’s warm, and I can feel him twitch as he try’s to say, “can I?” He’s asking for approval to start moving, and I oblige.

“Yes, and of fucking course I’m soaking.” I say as I look up towards the hot water. Nico develops red dots on his back as he starts to thrust himself into me.

“Come for me baby.”

I start to moan and I feel him practically in my lungs. He stands up as he starts to cum. Strings of our future kids are coming out of my 3rd favorite piece of him.

“Oh baby.” I look at him and his dimples are showing. I start to cum again when I see him stand up.

I push him back down as I throw myslef on top of him. I sit on him and his friend. I take a minute to catch my breath as I relax to take him. It’s been four days since we’ve had sex. I push my hand onto his chest and my other in his abs, I can feel him cum, streams of warm substance fills me, and I take myself off of him. I sit in his face and he licks me clean, but that’s before I start to cum into his mouth.

“Let’s clean up, so we can do it again later.” Nico request as I get up and I start to clean up my hair from the knots it’s been tangled into. I grab shampoo and lather it onto Nico’s head and into mine. I feel Nico wash his head as the water falls into my crevices.

We warm up and dry off and Nico swoops me up again and he snuggles me into his arms as he turns our heated blanket on. I’m stuck in his large arms and I’m glad it’s him I can feel poking up at me again.

“Baby, I’m glad you’re home.” I say as I turn my head around to kiss his cheek.

[justlookfrightened]

Masquerade

Filling a prompt from from @hufflepunkwannabe: And perhaps Lardo and bitty playing with makeup?

“Lardo?”

Bitty tapped at her door, which was not quite closed, and pushed it further open.

“Do you know when — “

He stopped abruptly.

Lardo was sitting at the desk, an array of makeup tubes and palettes abd brushes laid out on the surface. It was undoubtedly Lardo sitting there facing the mirror, but the reflection looking back at Bitty was somehow not the same. With the slicked back hair, sharper jaw, more prominent brows, it looked like Lardo’s twin brother. Even though Bitty knew Lardo didn’t have a brother, twin or otherwise.

“What was that?” Lardo turned and asked, sounding just the same.

Bitty gathered himself enough to remember why he was looking for Lardo.

“Um, do you know when the bus is leaving for Colgate on Saturday?” he asked. Because Jack had a home game Friday night, and there was a chance Bitty could get to Providence for the game and spend the night, if he could get back in time to be on the bus for the weekend roadie.

“On the bus at 10:15, pulling out at 10:30,” Lardo said. “And we get back from Dartmouth late Sunday night.”

“Yeah, I knew that part,” Bitty said.

“Why?” Lardo asked. “You have plans for Saturday morning?”

“Study group,” Bitty fibbed. Really, if he were really going to study groups all the times he said he was, he should be making the dean’s list this semester. Which he most definitely was not.

“You’re probably not going to make that one,” Lardo said, turning back to the mirror. “No one wants to get up that early on Saturday.”

Except Jack.

“Other athletes,” Bitty said. “We’ll meet early, and I’ll be back in time.”

Which was perfect. He would have an excuse not to be home when the rest of the house got up. 

Bitty watched Lardo squint into the mirror, then take a dark pencil to her brows, making them look even heavier.

“Uh, Lardo?” Bitty asked. “What are you doing?”

“Practicing my makeup,” she said. “I’m doing, like, a drag king look for a photo project someone in my class is doing. What do you think?”

“You look like a guy,” Bitty said. “I mean, like yourself, but also like a guy. How do you do that?”

“The magic of contouring,” Lardo said. “It’s really just using different shades of makeup to change the way people perceive your features. Kinda the same way you use light and shadow to make a two-dimensional painting have depth. A lot of women who wear makeup do it all the time, just not to look like a boy.”

“Huh,” Bitty said. “That’s pretty cool.”

He watched a little longer.

“Do you think you could teach me?”

“Teach you what?” Lardo said. “To use makeup to look more masculine? Because I gotta say, especially with the way that haircut emphasizes your facial structure, you do look like a guy.”

“Really?” Bitty said. “Even though —”

He waved his hand in front of his face, emphasizing the features he always thought of as too delicate. They were nothing like Jack’s, or even Shitty’s.

“I mean,” Lardo said, “You do have big eyes. But your facial bones are more prominent than most women’s. But maybe I could make you up to look like a girl? Or a more manly man, I guess. Either way.”

An idea hatched in Bitty’s brain.

“Could we try both?” he said.

“Why not?” Lardo said. “Sit down.”

First, she recreated her masculine look on Bitty, using makeup a shade or two darker than his skin tone to contour under his jaw, around his forehead, and under his cheekbones. She added lighter makeup to his cheekbones and brow, then found a light brown pencil in her kit to thicken his blond eyebrows.

After a lot of blending and a layer of setting powder, Lardo handed him the mirror. 

“Well?” she said.

“Wow,” Bitty said. “I look like … I don’t even know. A real boy, or man, I guess.”

“Bits,” Lardo said. “You are a real man, makeup or not. But now I get to make you look like a girl.”

“Wait,” Bitty said. “Let me take a picture first.”

Bitty raised his phone to snap a selfie, first alone, and then another with Lardo.

“Okay,” Bitty said. “Do your worst.”

Lardo stepped back.

“We don’t have to if it makes you uncomfortable,” she said. “I just kind of wanted to practice drag makeup too. And I get to use colors.”

“No, it’s fine,” Bitty said. And it was. Shitty always said boys could wear makeup, anyway. And it might be fun to see what he would look like as a girl.

“Okay then,” Lardo said, opening the door to the bathroom she shared with Chowder. “Wash your face.”

Then Lardo got to work, using the darker contour makeup more sparingly but adding more highlighter. She said she wouldn’t pluck Bitty’s eyebrows, but she used a small comb to brush them upwards. Contouring made his nose look thinner and his jaw more rounded, she explained, and eyeliner and mascara made his already big eyes look even larger. 

“Now comes the fun part,” she said, choosing a palette of eyeshadows in lighter colors, the better to make his browline look higher. Blush and a shiny lip gloss completed the look before she handed Bitty the mirror.

Whereas the masculine makeup had made Bitty look somehow like himself, only moreso, this makeup made him look like a different person entirely. Someone he could dress up as, maybe, but definitely not him.

Still, he thought he was kind of cute. He liked what the mascara and eyeliner did for his eyes. Maybe he could just do that sometimes?

Bitty wondered what Jack would think if he saw him this way. Jack, after all, was attracted to women. Would he prefer Bitty as a woman? Was that a can of worms Bitty wanted to open?

“You want a picture before you wash it off?” Lardo said.

“Sure,” Bitty said. “Why not?”

Because if Jack would prefer Bitty with feminine makeup, maybe that was something he could do sometimes? People dressed up for the partners all the time, didn’t they?

Bitty and Lardo repeated the selfies — one of Bitty on his own and one with Lardo — before Bitty went to clean his face again. 

When he came out of the bathroom, he realized Lardo was still wearing masculine makeup.

“So, you like that?” he said. “Looking like a guy?”

Lardo shrugged.

“A little, yeah,” she said. “Feels a little weird. But maybe sometimes? You didn’t like looking like a girl, though, did you?”

Bitty shook his head.

“Maybe because too many assholes have tried to insult me by calling me a girl,” he said. “Even though being a girl is not a bad thing. To be clear.”

“I gotchu,” Lardo said. “No worries.”

When he got back to his room, Bitty sent both selfies to Jack.

Lardo and me were playing around with makeup. What do you think?

It took a few minutes for Jack to answer. He could have been driving; practice had ended not long before.

You always look great, Jack finally texted back. Whatever you want is good. The more feminine one, though — it would take some getting used to for me, I guess. Although the eye makeup is cool.

Bitty exhaled, letting out tension he hadn’t been aware of.

My thoughts exactly, he said. I can make it Friday night as long as I get back here to be on the bus at 10:15 Saturday.

Great, Jack replied. I can drop you off by the library at 9:30 or so.

[talisidekick]

Thanks for being so compassionate! As someone who's had to defend himself from assault pre transition and assault and attempted trafficking during transition which has contributed to some agoraphobia centered on thoughts like "damn, wasn't safe off T not safe on it", it's been rlly scary seeing ppl shrug off how transmascs are endangered in real life in service of discrediting transandro discourse. Cool seeing who's really real I guess????? anyways hope you're well and warm. Srry about my run on sentence lmao

There is absolutely nothing to apologize for. We only get to see one side publically, and that's pretty much just trans women issues. Media likes to cover just us. I rarely see news stories about just trans men. We don't see the stories about trans men getting stalked or followed around in stores by total strangers, getting attacked in public, rarely a mention if a trans man gets killed. It's happening but you don't see it. You don't see a flood of forum posts about the constant dismissal of, unique brand of hatred around, or the types of dangers faced by trans men.

My introduction to questioning my gender was actually FROM transandrophobia. The reason for this is I've had more of a curvy figure since ... well forever, even though my body was producing T on it's own. I got A LOT of compliments on it by pretty much all my friends (which were mostly girls, and yes that probably should have been a sign but I'm a bit thick sometimes, okay?) because I was "unconventionally sexy" because of it. I'm now remembering I do have a shirtless picture somewhere from before I was on HRT ... I'll work up the nerve to show that at some point to prove that point. Anywho, because of this, a random ass stranger had been following me as I went to grab a few things from a walmart after my shift. It was weird as fuck. Uncomfortably close, constantly looking at me but not what they were pretending to, and I kind of knew this dick was waiting until there was no one in the aisle before pulling something. I'd been mugged before at 14 and 15 so at 24 I was kind of like "I'm not getting stabbed in a damn Walmart" and just made sure to be quick. I got out of the store and met up with some old work friends and just let them know someone was following me and I wanted to wait them out. Props to my friends at the time, they bullseyed the dude (to be fair he wasn't being stealthy) and called him out. And he yelled back "You'll never be a real man" to me. My friends laughed at him because as far as we all knew, I was cis. But this would happen two more times in the same week. A lady would tell me I shouldn't be doing "this" to myself with a full body gesture, and that god "loves" me; and a college colleague flat out dismissed my concerns on something because "only a real man would need to worry about that". It got me wondering if this was a new fad, to hate on someones manliness, and upon looking that up I learned about what exactly transgender meant, the experiences of trans men and women (just a bit on women, my concern was on trans men at the time), and thought it was kind of cool there were people who'd know two sides to the gender spectrum. But it must SUCK to have to go through the bullshit I did and actually be affected by it. Like, no one has any right to tell another man they're less of one.

This whole situation would actually come back to help me 2 years later in finding myself. I'd only really looked up trans men and curiosity mid covid lock down would lead me to look up non-binary and then trans women. However, transandrophobia is how I, a trans woman, got her start. So it boils my blood when I see people talk about T being toxic or trans men having it easier. It shows a complete lack of understanding and a lack of acceptance and willingness to empathize. Trans men and trans mascs have different issues, that doesn't make them lesser, and while those issues may not affect me, it doesn't make it less of my problem to help deal with where I can. I know certain issues I'll have no experience on, no idea how to help, but that doesn't mean I can't still offer to be support. Everyone should be doing the same, and shame on those who aren't.

You deserve equal treatment and support in your fight for it, not dismissal. Those that dismiss the issues of trans men aren't allies, they're transphobes. And fuck transphobes.

[the-kirbe-anon]

First off I wanna say please do not feel obligated to answer this if you don't want to for any reason. So I've been in the process of detransitioning for a while. I recognize that God made me a man and I should be a man. But it's just so hard for me to be a man and to wake up every morning and know I have to continue living as a man. I know that it's always hard to keep away from sin, but if you have any advice I would appreciate it. Thank you for answering if you do and regardless thank you for running this blog and all the other good you do.

Hey there! I'd first like to tell you that I'm proud of you for recognizing that God made you correctly and that you're doing what you can to live as God intended you to. It takes a lot of courage to recognize that God is ultimately right about who you should be, regardless of how you feel about it. Changing is really hard and you're taking steps to do so for God.

So a lot of transgender ideology seems to basically say "if I don't feel like what gender I was born as, then I'm not really what I was supposed to be". Much of modern gender ideology is trying to base your gender on your personality and how you feel instead of what's simply true. There are also stereotypes of what our culture thinks men and women should be like as far as personality and interests go that absolutely do not like up with what God has said about the roles of men and women.

Here's what God has NOT said about how to be a Godly man: having "manly" interests such as sports, working out, cars, ECT. Or having a "manly" personality according to what our culture calls manly.

Here's what God DOES say about being a Godly man: following the purpose God has given him, protecting and providing for those in need, controlling his temper and ungodly urges, respecting women, and taking lead when he needs to. You also must look like a male, so people don't get the wrong message.

Living as a Godly man is going to take much effort and time, and you're going to mess up sometimes, but God is faithful and forgives your imperfections.

[salemshotspot]

Hunter Hearst Helmsley Gender Headcanons

Hunter Hearst Helmsley Gender Headcanons

WORD COUNT: 985

DESC: Headcanons of Hunter and his gender identity/exploration

WARNINGS: Not Proof Read//Someone Who Knows Nothing About Makeup Writing About Makeup Hoping They Aren't Chatting Rubbish//Mentions Taking Hormones//Tiny Bit Sad At Times If You Squint//Implied Toxic Masculinity//Discusses Complex Gender Feelings//Implied Internalised Homophobia If You Squint//Mentions Of Drinking And Being Drunk

A/N >> Drop writing requests in my inbox and let me know if you'd like to be tagged or untagged in any future fics :)

TAGS: @incorrectwwfquotes @prettyboymichaels-ao3 [apologies you got this notification twice, I was trying to fix a spelling mistake and accidently deleted your @!]

Enjoy!

——————————————————————————

So I feel like Hunter first consciously began questioning his gender when he got close with Shawn; to me Shawn seems the type to call Hunter pretty as an absent minded compliment but to Hunter it was so much more, he couldn't stop Shawn's words rattling around his mind for weeks, being called pretty really started making him question things about himself.

However, although it took Shawn calling him pretty to make him start questioning things I feel like subconsciously he'd been questioning his gender ever since he debuted his wrestling persona of 'Hunter Hearst Helmsley.'

I feel like he took so easily to that persona is because, to him, being an upper-class gentleman was the only way he could be pretty while maintaining his masculinity as he could say anything effeminate about him was merely part of his character.

Wearing a bit of makeup? It's not because he likes it, it's because he's committed to appearing as elegant as he can to fit his character, he's wearing stereotypically more feminine clothes? It's only because it makes him appear elegant in his lace shirts and silk jackets.

He was secretly really upset once he put that character behind him and became 'Triple H' because not only does he have to play a much more stereotypically manly character but he has nothing to hide his less masculine traits behind.

He was probably jealous of Shawn for so long, he was able to be so flamboyant, so sexually ambiguous, he was able to be whatever he wanted and everybody still viewed him as a standard of masculinity; why couldn't Hunter be extended this privilege, why was he burdened with the curse of hegemonic masculinity? Once his jealously towards Shawn shifted to longing, longing to have the freedom he had, to not care what people think like he did I think he'd get really drunk with Shawn one night and accidently tell him everything, the way he feels, the way he perceives himself as a man and is happy with that but he wishes when people perceive him it would be as both a woman and a man.

Not to self insert but I feel like, like myself, he perfectly understands how he feels about his gender but he can't put words to it, he can't put a label on it, nothing feels right when he tries using a label, he uses a fluid label? He feels he's betraying the binary, set in stone aspects of his gender, he uses a binary label? He's reducing himself down to something that doesn't encompass him truly.

Shawn is indifferent to this information in the sense of 'I don't view you any differently, you were my best friend before you told me this and you'll stay my best friend after you've told me.'

Although Shawn is indifferent to the information he makes a conscious effort to try and help Hunter express himself at his own pace and the first way they did this was with makeup; Shawn owns a lot of subtle makeup, he loves to look his best and doesn't see why makeup should be just for women when it's such a life saver.

This is oddly specific but to build on this idea I feel like when Shawn did Hunter's makeup for the first time so he could see how it feels Hunter was absolutely mesmerised by the blush on his cheeks and would end up not going anywhere without having a bit of light pink blush dusted over his cheeks and nose.

I feel like he takes really good care of his lips, like always using vaseline to make sure they're never dry and always look healthy but give this man glittery lip gloss and he will fall in love and use it all the time, bonus points if the glitter is silver.

I do not think he would be completely against the idea of taking oestrogen, he's probably like to take low doses of it if he ever fully committed to HRT, however he is overall indifferent to it; if he never took hormones he wouldn't feel incomplete within his own gender, it could just be a nice little bonus to him if he ever felt he really wanted to.

I do however feel like although he is exploring his more feminine side he wouldn't wear dresses, he just doesn't feel they're his thing [although can I say if they were he would rock a red floor length dress that hugged his curves just right], but when he went to formal events he'd experiment wearing less typically male formal attire [like a ruffled red dress shirt instead of a white one, it's a subtle change but he feels great when he does it.]

Speaking of formal fashion I feel like another thing he'd experiment with is shoes, he feels like wedged shoes are a good middle ground between the black formal shoes men and heels.

Probably heals his past self by allowing himself to indulge in socially accepted feminine acts like for example I feel like he loves baking, he baked with his mum growing up but he was made fun of because it's 'a woman's thing.'

Pronouns wise he says he doesn't care if people use either he, she or they but sometimes when he hears people use she/her he's like a giddy little kid.

Just reiterating how much he loves to be called pretty.

I also feel like being secure in his gender helps him become secure within his sexuality [I personally see him as bisexual]; before he'd be so flustered and paranoid if he did anything that he thought felt gay in public, what if somebody saw?, But since feeling more comfortable with his gender he proudly kisses Shawn live on Raw without giving it so much as a second thought because it's just a show of affection between him and his friend.

——————————————————————————

A/N >> I'm aware this turned into headcanons for Shawn too, I might do Shawn his own headcanon list if anyone is interested! There's a few wwf wrestlers I want to do these headcanons for

[mybabydenkikaminari]

Compilation of Rlain and Renarin references and mentions of each other

Hi everyone! I have become obsessed with my two babes since I finished RoW and I haven’t found any compilation of all the times they talk about each other, so here we are. There are not a lot of them but the list will grow so much in the Knights of Wind and Truth, that I wanted to be ready!! And If you are wondering, yes I am sure that I have every single one of them (thanks to the Stormfather that we can search for words with Kindle).  Enjoy the little crumbs that we got <3. 

The Way of Kings

None

Words of Radiance

None

Oathbringer: 

Chapter 37 - Rock PoV

“Don’t deny it, Rock. Lopen is … well Lopen. And you’re obviously… um… you. But I’m still the strange one.” 

Lunamor slapped dough onto a rock, then pointed toward where Rlain -the Parshendi bridgeman they used to call Shen- sat on a rock near his squad, watching quietly as the others laughed at Eth having accidentally stuck a stone to his hand. He wore warform, and so was taller and stronger than he had been before-but the humans seemed to have completely forgotten that he was there. 

“Oh”, Renarin said. “I don’t know if he counts.”

“This thing is what everyone always tells him” Lunamor said “Over and over again.” 

Renarin stared for a long time while Lunamor continued to make bread. Finally, Renarin stood up and dusted off his uniform, walked across the stone plateau, and settled down beside Rlain. Renarin fidgeted and didn’t say anything, but Rlain seemed to appreciate the company anyway. 

Chapter 55 - Rlain PoV:

Rlain sipped his drink and wished Renarin were here; the quiet lighteyed man usually made a point of speaking with Rlain. The others jabbered excitedly, but didn’t think to include him. Parshmen were invisible to them-they’d been brought up that way. 

And yet, he loved them because they did try.  

-

“So…” Skar said. “Are we going to talk about Renarin?”

The twenty-eight men shared looks, many settling down around the barrel of Rock’s drink as they once had around the cookfire. There were certainly a suspicious number of buckets to use as stools, as if Rock had planned for this, The Horneater himself leaned against the table he’d brought out for holding cups, a cleaning rag thrown over his shoulder.

“What about him?” Kaladin asked, frowning and looking around at the group.

(They proceed to complain that reading is feminine with one of the most stellar quotes of Lopen: “Drehy likes other guys. That’s like … he wants to be even less around women than the rest of us. It’s the opposite of feminine. He is, you could say, extra manly”)

Kaladin rubbed his forehead, and Rlain empathized. 

-

He felt embarrassed for them-they were simply too concerned about what a person should and shouldn’t be doing. It was because they didn’t have forms to change into. If Renarin wanted to be a scholar, let him be a scholar

-

“I’m sorry” Kaladin said, holding out his hand to calm the men “I wasn’t trying to insult Drehy. But storms, men. We know that things are changing. Look at the lot of us. We’re half-way to being lighteyes! We’ve already let five women into Bridge Four, and the’ll be fighting with spears. Expectations are being upended-and we’re the cause of it. So let’s give Renarin a little leeway, shall we?” 

Rlain nodded.  Kaladin was a good man.

Rhythm of War

Chapter 54 - Renarin PoV

We need more, Glys said. We need more like us, who will be. Who?

I can think of one, Renarin said, who would be a perfect choice…

Chapter 79 - Rlain PoV (Honorable Mention)

No, Venli is here, he thought. There were two of them. He’d never particularly liked Venli, but at least he wasn’t the sole listener. It made him wonder. Should they… try to rebuild? The idea nauseated him for multiple reasons. For one, the times he’d tried mateform himself, things hadn’t gone the way he -or anyone really- had expected. 

Chapter 111 - Rlain PoV

Keep fighting, a voice said in his head. Salvation will be, Rlain, listener. Bridger of Minds. I have been sent to you by my mother, at the request of Renarin, Son of Thorns. I have watched you and seen your worthiness. 

Chapter 114 - Rlain PoV

Renarin knows? Rlain thought

He suggested you, Tumi said. And told our mother about you. He was right. Our bond will be strong, and you will be wondrous. We are awed by you, Rlain.  The Bridger of Minds. We are honored. 

-

Rlain had established that he needed to stay, at least until Renarin returned. 

[forgiveness-in-the-misery]

Xander is genuinely an interesting character. It’s complicated because a lot of people now just see him as aged poorly or Joss 2.0 and completely ignore the actual show itself and why he is the way he is.

Between the books, not the comics, the actual books and the TV show you come to learn incredibly important things:

Xander had a goth phase for a while that is brought up in the books.

Xander struggles with depression and loneliness.

Xander’s bedroom was in the basement as far removed as a kid could get from their parents.

Xander’s parents fight frequently and violently.

Xander’s father is a cruel drunk who treats his son like an abomination.

All of the above literally explain why Xander is the way that he is….and current fans blatantly ignore and avoid that and it is mind boggling to me.

He wants to joke constantly and make awkward comments and jokes especially if he’s anxious or scared or uncomfortable. He seemingly doubts people aside from Willow could ever like him for himself so he settles for the role of being the clown. He wants to be seen and understood and loved and when Anya eventually offers him this he panics due to the fear that he will turn into an abusive monster like his father and ruin her. Xander ruined his relationship with Cordelia for essentially the same reason, the fear of ruining things, of dragging her into his family and this life that would result in depression and resentment for her. He cheated on her with Willow because Willow is the only person who knows him and knows his family situation and she is safe and comfortable and familiar and kissing her knowing she has loved him most her life at that point was manipulative and misdirected and wrong on his part…..but look at his home life.

The boy never saw what a relationship is meant to be. His parents were hateful and resentful. He didn’t grow up seeing love and he has a deep fear that maybe he can’t actually love somebody.

Even his relationship to Buffy feels like deep down she is who he wants to be more than wants to be with. She’s brave and strong and witty and smart and resourceful and can easily come across like she doesn’t have time to care what people think of her.

And because of the toxic masculinity of the 90s and the shit his own father tried to beat into him about being a real man….he resents that. He feels humiliated and resentful that this girl is everything he’s been told he should be. It’s why he gets so up in arms about Buffy breaking it off with Riley, because Riley is the type of man Xander grew up being told is a real man and he idolizes that.

Spike and Angel don’t fall into this role. Spike ironically enough like Xander we learn was soft and gentle and loved poetry and kind things and was mocked and teased by people for being the way that he was. Spike became a vampire and became blood thirsty but even seeing him with Dru through the centuries the gentle lover never died with his humanity, it comes out more and more as the show progresses and frankly it comes down to vampires have no need to care.

Once you have lived hundreds of years and may live hundreds more then the concept of gender norms and sexuality come to be meaningless human concepts.

Xander is this sort of tragic character who is trapped under so much fear and anxiety and grew up in a time when the worst things you could be is a woman or gay and he wanted badly to be masculine to be a hero to be brave and manly and all of that and it frequently ended up with him distancing from his friends, losing women who did love him and tried to understand him but he never let them close enough.

So anyway I really wish people would look at story more than 2023 social norms in a show made back in the 90s/2000s and also I wish the show had made Xander gay.

[iifishizzleii]

sibling johnny mactavish includes

unedited😛

having eight sisters.

this man has ‘younger brother’ energy written all over him. he’s the middle child, but by the time his parents got to having johnny, they were already at the ‘eh, i don’t care what you do just don’t die’ phase parents get at with their kids. which meant that it was up to his four older sisters to raise the boy right.

johnny knows how to read women. and while it’s partly because his sisters taught him well, it’s also because living in a house full of that many women meant learning their language or fucking perishing. this man is fluent in eyelingual. he knows every eyebrow raise, side-eye, narrowed gaze to a pointed look. who needs morse code in the military when you got eyelingual?

being a big character

because when you learn the language, of course you’re going to want to learn the culture as well. and johnny mactavish has been submerged in women culture all his life. which means three things:

one, he knows how to play the long game. whether it comes with petty revenge or simply asking for something from a higher power (his oldest sister), johnny is the king of waiting it out, finding the sweet spot of those moments and taking it. it’s the reason why only he, out of the entire task force, can get away with so much shit when it comes to laswell.

two, johnny knows how to be mean without being rude. thanks to the second and third mactavish daughters, his sisters (bless their heart), johnny knows how to kiss a person’s cheek while stabbing them with verbal cues. his sisters would do it all the time to each other and to guests that came over that they didn’t like. and it paid off being the brunt of so many passive aggressive comments because johnny’s work sometimes requires being civil, but that doesn’t mean he has to be a gentleman.

and three, johnny knows how to play dumb. really. it’s almost scary how quick this guy can go from playing with sticks and making dumb jokes about mud, to building a bomb made of sticks and mud. and it was his younger siblings, surprisingly, who taught johnny that being as pretty of a family that they were (because let’s be fr, soap is gorgeous), nobody expects them to know how to think. it makes getting out of certain situations and receiving special treatment so much more easier, too, when all you gotta do is give a charming smile and bat your eyelashes (ghost has been at the receiving end and has fallen for this act far too many times to let anyone else know).

having really thick skin

a lot of people think having an older brother is tough. and hey, it is! ghost would argue its a lot meaner than having a sister, because sisters are naturally more nurturing, nicer, and kinder than brothers are.

and for the most part, that was true. all of johhny’s sisters are good people. they’re kind, yes, and helpful and overall worthy of their spots through the pearly gates. but they’re not fucking nice. the fuck.

the amount of times johnny was dragged out of bed to take out the trash at the crack ass of dawn is ridiculous. he should have brain damage now from how many times his head hit the floor. but, he was the only boy, so all the ‘manly’ jobs like mowing the lawn, washing the cars, bringing in the groceries, all of those were johnny’s chores. (but, even then, most people would pass their home and see several girls—blondes, brunettes, and gingers— washing the porch, the family truck, and tending to the yard. johnny was j

and that’s not even to mention the psychological warfare. mactavish’s are infamous for their temper, so when you’re living with eight other land mines dressed in heels and lashes just waiting to be stepped on, everyday was a different fight blowing up in the house. and when you got insulted by your sister, johnny learned that the only way to deflect is by hitting them with something meaner a lot more quickly or you’d cry.

like that time johnny blamed the wet floor in their bathroom on all of the leg hair his younger sister kept shaving and getting stuck in the drain so the water flowed out the tub and soaked the tiles. and she automatically replied with, “or maybe it’s all the grease from the back of your fat fucking neck dragging on the ground that’s making the tiles wet”. (it was their other sister’s fault it turned out.)

loving the hard times

because as much as johnny could give his family shit for all of the bad days, none of them could compare to the good ones.

the mornings where he woke up to the smell of sourdough pancakes and sizzling bacon.

when his sister would pull him out of school early to go shopping at the mall, and she’d buy him a new toy or cool shirt.

when he did one of them a favor and later that week she’d taken johnny to get some greasy fast food with her to eat at a park because she wasn’t trying to buy food for the whole house.

when his younger sisters spent their first daddy-daughter dance standing on his church shoes and holding his hands because their real father wasn’t around anymore.

when they spend the rest of the day outside spraying each other with the water hose after washing the cars because the house was too hot, and sandwiches with premade lemonade under the tree was lunch.

when the winter winds were so strong they broke the heater, and the family spent a week having a slumber party in the living room to keep warm.

when they all got matching tattoos on the ankle, a roman numeral for each sibling.

when johnny went off to join the army, leaving his sisters for the first time, they all went to the airport to see him off.

[slurping-up-grass]

Twinks and Sex Workers in 19th century wartime literature

(if this is of interest to you)

So I'm sure we've all heard of Dorian Gay *gray*- I hated that shit, too many descriptions of flowers, not enough evil satanic sensual not-so-heterosexual romance for my tastes.

This academic year, the school has decided that I should read Maupassant's Boule de Suif, a book set just after the french defeat in the Franco-Prussian war of 1871, where France is still being occupied by German soldiers.

The author himself fought in the war and has much to say from this experience, but as we stumble into the second chapter, we find ourselves face to face with "Mademoiselle Fifi", who, as a non native French speaker, took me a beat to comprehend is a male, German, second lieutenant so twinkish in attitude and physique that his comrades have nicknamed him "Little Miss Fifi".

French is a strictly gender-binary language, and Maupassant consistently refers to Mr Mme Fifi with feminine pronouns and conjugation, which is quite an incredible level of gender-bending for his time period, considering that the language requires you to specify far more frequently than in English the gender of the person you are talking about, and Maupassant narrates "woman".

Our introduction to this character is remeniscent of other notable twinks-

Hamilton:🎵peach fuzz and he can't even grow it🎵

Mme Fifi: "pale face where her burgeoning moustache was barely visible"

And continues:

Dorian Gray "made a little moue of discontent to Lord Henry, to whom he had rather taken a fancy"

Mme Fifi "had taken up the habit of expressing her sovreign discontent towards people and things"

-basically, the common thread is cuntiness.

Maupassant fixates on Mme Fifi's teeny-weeny baby white waist for a little bit too long and we begin to wonder what might have really motivated him to drop out of law school to join the big manly war of 1781.

The men decide that they need some good prostitutes for their party, and Maupassant notes that "Mme Fifi" "herself" seemed "out of place". She is very uncomfortable, sitting up and down in her chair and decides she wants to break something, so stands up and shoots a painting of a woman with a moustache, you know, like the moustache he is too "coquette🎀"* to grow? *feminine

So after Frankenfurter reminds everyone that this is his god-damed rocky-horror gay-ass castle and he gets uncomfy when people put women in it, they all go to the castle museum where Fifi begins happily stimming and clapping her hands because they are going to play her favourite game "making faces".

She created this game after her meanie superior officers refused to "Ding-don-don" the churchbells for entertainment even after she tried "pussycat manners, womanly cajolery, and soft whispers of a mistress hysterical with desire" to persuade them.

IS IT POSSIBLE TO CREATE A MORE CAMP CHARACTER?

Sidepoint- a consistent theme that redevelops here is whether french "women of pleasure" should feel guilty for betraying their country by sleeping with German occupying soldiers, or whether this is just a service they sell to survive (the prostitutes reassure eachother that it is just their job and they shouldn't feel guilty.)

"It's the job that wants that"

They don't desire the soldiers, the separate entity that is their employment does.

The women get put in size order and the smallest woman (Rachel) is given to Fifi, the twinkiest man.

He then blows smoke in her mouth, which is pretty gross, but she doesn't voice her anger. We get the impression he is either freaky, or really not into women because instead of engaging in traditional pleasure, he enjoys pinching her to make her shout, then making out with her and randomly biting her to make her bleed.

He looks her in the eyes and reminds her he is paying to be able to do whatever he likes to her.

The men begin toasting the things they own and include in this The Women of France. Rachel cannot help but correct:

"Me! Me! I am not a woman, I am a whore; that is absolutely all we have given to the Prussians."

-she breaks the illusion of desire, this is a job to her

He slaps her. She stabs him. FIFI DIES. The women are locked up. There is disorder and Rachel escapes. The soldiers are punished for forgetting the aims of the war and exploiting their position with prostitutes. Rachel hides in the church, which is sacred ground the soldiers cannot enter, and is remembered as a hero after the occupation.

So yeah, patriotic prostitutes and crazy, jealous twinks🌈

I am fully convinced that nobody will ever read this @strange-aeons

[garretgentleman-art]

Diego and Misogyny

Every time I see a cool manly character, I start testing him for sexism. And it was the same with Diego.

Maybe he thinks women are weaker than men?

A lawyer must be strong. Both man and woman.

Maybe he thinks women are dumber than men?

No, he believe in Mia even though she is a newbie.

But he calls women cute nicknames!

No, he calls men that too Nicknames are just markers and they really should lead to an alert and make you look for sexism. But don't get caught in the Association fallacy. If sexism is not found, relax. If you find evidence that a character treats both genders equally, relax. Mia is full-fledged employee who can decide for herself whether Diego's familiarity is acceptable to her. If she feels humiliated because of this, Diego will stop because he likes Mia.

The image of Diego is partially based on the image of gentleman. And often problem with this image is that gentlemen do not believe that women are capable of evil. They perceive women as children, and they shift the responsibility for their actions to the surrounding men. Does Diego do it?

No. He believes in the subjectivity (agency) of a cute little girl. Even when she is 14.

I guess criminal responsibility comes in this age in Japanifornia. We know that Dahlia is demon. She persuaded her father to get rid of Iris in order not to share the money. She robbed her family. And then she killed her big sister. She is incapable of creating an emotional connection. But Diego and Mia don't know about it. I wish they didn't blame the child just because their intuition, but ok. Diego is very protective. Such men often find it humiliating when a woman defends them. Maybe Diego finds it humiliating that Mia is protecting him?

Maybe he finds it humiliating for Phoenix that his teacher is a woman?

Oh, no-no. He considers him unworthy

But Diego! You only saw her first trial. (and read all the rest I guess) Maybe he doesn't trust women on the battlefield?

Maybe he doesn't think a woman can make decisions about herself?

Maybe Diego doesn't like it when a woman takes all the attention to herself?

It's funny. Dahlia went to hell without even knowing who killed her. Because she is Mia's enemy. Not Diego's. Diego didn't even say hello to her before the murder. And he even never intervened in their conversation with Mia.

Makes me wonder how sincere Diego is when he talks about a revenge. Diego said he didn't know what he felt: the desire to protect Maya or the thirst for revenge. But I'm pretty sure the second emotion was not anger, but fear. By the way. There are no phrases in the game that would imply that Diego is ashamed to be a victim of woman.

But he's ashamed of his carelessness. He knows Dahlia is a dangerous killer, but...

People also accuse him of toxic masculinity. Okay, let's compare. Toxic Masculinity: "Boys Don't Cry" Diego:

Boys and girls.

Since when do we call the principle "you can cry, but later" toxic masculinity?

Toxic masculinity often hurts those around you. Maybe Diego started to despise Mia when she started crying?  

He has an empathy for crying men too. He's an attorney after all

Diego considers it his duty to protect Mia. So what? Diego is her senpai. Diego demands from Phoenix to protect Mia not because of he's male, but because he projects survivor's guilt onto him. Not everything in the world is explained by the fact that a man has become a victim of patriarchy. Sometimes people just feel responsible because they are good people.

Mia felt guilty about her client. I'm sure about Diego too. It's was her case after all. She didn't ask Phoenix to help with White. And she saves him at every trial. If she were a man, would you accuse her of sexism because she doesn't trust Phoenix?

Oh, I almost forgot. If Diego is misogynistic, then Mia is a weak patriarchal woman with no self-respect and a victim, right?

Let me skip the screenshots where I prove that Mia is cool. Diego tries to be strong and wants to protect his loved ones, not because society demands it from men. And Mia teach Phoenix to smile in the most terrible moments, not because society demands it from women. It's just their personality. Both Diego and Mia do not like to talk about their injuries to other people. It's definitely toxic to them. But is it masculinity? I don’t think so.

And by the way. I don't consider this dialogue problematic in context. Diego just broke down because of a lot of stress. Franziska was the first to be rude.

Just because he doesn't like Franziska doesn't mean he doesn't like all women. I'm pretty sure that he can't stand kids with whips who criticize strangers for an unimportant things while they are on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Let's say thanks to Franziska von Karma for taking the brunt of it! Although in the end Phoenix couldn't avoid it anyway... Game: Franziska will beat Pheonix with a whip Anime: Diego grabs and pushes him. Maybe Diego is biased because he knows her father or associates her with Dahlia. Maybe he draws conclusions about Franziska from her terrible behavior (+reacts painfully to her claims because of his feeling of guilt, which he tries to deny). It doesn't matter, he has the right not to like her. 

But I understand, "know your role" sounds like more than just an insult. What is her role? The game doesn't explain what Diego means. You can insert literally anything here: snobbery, prosecutor hierarchy (the replacement prosecutor and the main prosecutor), ageism, sexism, hatred of the Germans. Or he's just careless with specific insults. This phrase contradicts the image of Diego, which we saw the entire previous game and will see after this. It raises questions.

... Not again... Don't tell me that the word "role" is really only for the sake of a funny reference. It's stupid.

She is cute but who can stand Franziska anyway... P.S.: The game does everything to make Diego look like a good person (he is the third main antagonist, and seriously, Miles and Franziska are shown to be much more ambiguous). But it can't do anything about those who WANTS to hate him. Everyone has their own reason. Ship war, wrong activism, just fun... This is how fanons work in any fandom. People can find something absolutely everywhere. I have seen such wild “errors” in the interpretation of the most understandable canon that I see no reason to excuse "fans", sorry. Bonus Diego is a very funny character. I love all these cool (and ridiculous) metaphors. I love that Diego drinks so much coffee. And I like the fact that Diego quotes phrases about men, but in situations with a women.

Maybe this is a language habit due to the existence in the male team.

Or he deliberately saying it with smile to motivate Mia.

So... What's the answer? Sometimes Diego says manly things, but only when they don't fit the context. It's funny and cute because they instantly clash with the real world, turning their meaning upside down.

Diego and his strange metaphors... I guess Diego has some personal perception of men (not serious, like "a man should drink 10 cups of coffee a day"), but definitely not women. In conclusion, there aren't characters in the game that think about Godot bad. Even Phoenix instantly changed his attitude towards him. Do you know why Diego is my favorite character? Because he is complex and dramatic. But most importantly, because he is a pro-feminist.

[minkyumami]

⚠️ new hyperfixation acquired ⚠️

I saw the Valentine’s Day episode and went insane over it

read my destiel fic boy

If there was a God, had he read Dean’s mind? Did he know about the fantasies? He must’ve, Dean thought to himself as he watched the angel devouring his burger. God must’ve known what Dean had secretly wanted for most of his life — because Cas was exactly that. A man. Well — an angel, becoming a man. A little bit androgynous, but still undeniably masculine. But pretty. And strong enough to overpower him.

I am the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition, were some of Cas’s first words to him.

Dean wasn’t sure that he knew what it all meant, but he knew that it was hot. The bright red handprint seared onto his bicep — Cas’s handprint. The permanent brand he’d left on his and his brother’s rib cages. All the little ways Cas had owned him — what he’d said to him in the first dream.

You think the armies of Heaven should just follow you around? There's a bigger picture here. You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of Hell. I can throw you back in.

For the first time since he was a little kid — maybe since he was a toddler — Dean had found himself wanting to call another man “Daddy.” And he might as well have, with Cas. The things he’d already let him do. The things he’d sworn to him. Sometimes he felt like Cas had to know what it meant — that it wasn’t normal for Dean to pray to a man, obey a man, believe in a man like he was God.

Or maybe normal was all it was. Embarrassingly mundane. Natural and constant and innate.

He still wasn’t sure if God was even real — Cas believed it. Convinced Dean to give him his amulet for it. But Dean only believed in Cas. He had seen him, touched him, been pressed against walls by and held close enough to smell him, almost kiss him, swear he could taste him. Some essence of him which never went away. He was more real than God, and better than all the other angels. Better than any other man.

But Cas had to have seen the dreams. After a while, Dean felt guilty. Maybe they had confused him. Dean had wondered once or twice if it was Hell that turned him this way — made him a little gayer, in a way he couldn’t stuff down anymore. He remembered realizing at some point that men and women were almost the same on the torture rack. Their screams sound the same. The blood under their skin is the same. He saw Cas bleed before. Many times. Because of him. For him. Dean thought for a while that he was just broken. That a maniac in him had been teased out, and he was cursed to feel confused and abnormal for the rest of his reinstated life.

But once Cas started showing up in dreams, it was harder to believe. More teenage than damned. Really, they had always been that way. It made sense — he didn’t have to dream about women. They were already out there in the real world. But men — the kind of men he seemed to like — only came in dreams, and, apparently, Heaven. Never nightmares. He didn’t like what happened in his nightmares.

But all the dreams about being rescued from burning buildings, retrieved from cars sinking into rivers, carried bridal style, protected — had Cas seen them all? Did he remember starring in some? Had he been able to feel the way Dean’s stomach flipped every time he caught sight of him in his mind — the way it felt to relive being reborn. Being gripped, being raised, being groped and ridden. Rendered awestruck. If Cas could feel any of it, could he understand?

And if there was a God, had he been kind to Dean? Giving him Cas in the first place. Then bringing Cas back to life. Did this mean he approved?

Could the loyal soldier ever believe that?

He looked at him again, chewing mechanically. Ground meat on his chin, on his lips. Jimmy Novak liked red meat, not Cas. This was Jimmy’s body, Jimmy’s manly craving wrenched to the surface, Jimmy’s pretty face and delicate nose and slouchy wiry frame. But Dean didn’t know Jimmy — not really. Even when it was just Jimmy, and Cas was in Heaven having all the misplaced devotion tortured out of him, it was Castiel that Dean saw. Castiel, going through something. Briefly not himself. Castiel, waiting to be remembered like a man’s first thoughts upon waking.

That was sort of how he looked now, with the meat. Dean didn’t see any remnant of Jim. Only Cas smiled softly and said with his mouth full, looking down shyly at his burger, “This makes me… very happy.”

It was so rare to see him smile. Anna had been like that too. So insatiable it made her sad.

Or maybe not insatiable. Maybe just unsated.

Sex was really simple with her. Painfully so. But of course, she’d been rebelling for a long time. There was no confusion; she knew what she wanted. She was ready for love — maybe ravenous for it — even the temporary, sinful, selfish love which was all Dean knew how to give. It had felt a bit more meaningful, because it was Anna, and she wasn’t quite human, and Dean thought he knew exactly how she felt. All that stuff about blind obedience. A father who leaves you alone and doesn’t explain why. Even then, even right as his lips first touched hers, Dean was half thinking about Cas, and whether or not he’d ever follow Anna’s path. Whether or not he’d ever felt the same way as either of them, and if he would ever be capable of admitting it. To himself or anyone.

If he’d ever be capable of loving Dean back, the way he loved that burger. Of course he could — Dean was sure he felt as good as loved. Cas had already proven it in too many ways to count. Especially in the way he’d grown to care for Sam.

But of course Cas could own up to a hunger that wasn’t his — even that — that his vessel was hungry — he’d struggled to admit. Even for red meat, he couldn’t go too far.

Dean wanted to hide his face — it was all so ridiculous. Pining for an angel, who, at the end of the day, was just a dude. A severely emotionally unavailable dude. Worse than Dean himself. Almost as bad as John Winchester.

But kinder. More vulnerable than either of them.

Cas looked at him from the passenger side and said, “What I don’t understand, is this: Where’s your hunger, Dean?” And suddenly the car was too small and too warm. He needed the windows open, for the cold night air to slap him in the face. He was certain that Cas would read his mind instead of waiting for an answer. He was certain because he wanted him to. Then he would see the constant memory of that night when it was just them — after Sam left. He’d understand that Dean wanted the same thing he’d wanted then, when he realized that Cas was a virgin who’d never even thought of sex. Not Jimmy — Jimmy had a wife and a kid. Jimmy had to have desires that Cas wasn’t aware of. Jimmy had to like women.

Dean had had half a mind then to do it himself — but it was too much like taking advantage of him. Not that Dean was so irreproachable — but Cas wasn’t some co-ed. And if Jimmy liked women, that wasn’t gonna just disappear for Dean. Rather, an appetite for men wouldn’t just materialize out of thin air, right? It had to be there already, wanted by the vessel. If Castiel — the incorporeal angel form of him — could even want that — and Dean had felt many times that he could — he couldn’t even begin to act on it. He wouldn’t know how unless Jimmy knew how.

But the way Cas had looked at him then. The innocence in his eyes — the unwavering trust — it made Dean’s whole body burn just like it was burning now in the car. It had been such a relief when the hooker rejected him, when the bouncer chased them out. Maybe he laughed harder than the situation was worth, but he didn’t think Cas could tell. The excitement bubbling in his chest never wore off when the angel was around.

By Valentine’s Day, it was impossible to ignore. Whenever Cas was gone, it left him violently and made him remember what it was like being dead. That moment just between waking up and knowing that he was human again. When he still was just a corpse without a soul. When Cas was around… well, it was like this.

Stifling. Dean felt stifled by him. In a way that he could only define as too good. If Cas was reading his mind, he’d see the flashes of his future, completely human self — the one from the bad future, who said out loud that he liked past Dean, who behaved like he was imitating Dean at his worst, who was stoned all the time and led orgies like a cult leader and talked to Dean on the car ride to the Devil’s hiding place about sex — like they had already had it plenty of times, or like they would have it plenty of times, or might never have it again. Like it was as casual as a handshake, and like handshakes were in dwindling supply. The whole situation — the way future Cas had spoken to future Dean. The way they both seemed to have taken womanizing to the extreme, how Cas didn’t seem to like the man Dean had become, but couldn’t seem to leave him either — did whatever he said at the end of the day, as if Heaven was still ordering him to. Trusted him completely, as if he couldn’t shake that human instinct — the whole thing smelled of complicated. It smelled of all Sam’s stupid exes who turned into friends and still loved him and told their other friends how pathetic they felt about it.

And stupidly, he wanted to see it happen with Cas. He thought that any horrible future would be bearable if he could have that for a second. The kind of thing only Sam seemed capable of. And maybe… maybe he could not screw it up. Not become the guy that would sacrifice his angel without a second thought. Maybe that was why he’d screwed up all his relationships with women. Maybe that was why he’d never even given himself a chance. Or God had never given him a chance. Because he didn’t understand then that this was how it was supposed to feel.

How could he say any of that out loud?

Where’s your hunger, Dean?!

It’s right here. It’s this. It’s you and me alone in the car. Cas wetting his lips, finishing his meal, licking his fingers — now there’s nothing left for him to eat. Dean turned towards him, as if to offer up his body. All the parts of him that Cas could just take without asking. Anna had told him to forgive himself for what he was forced to do in Hell. What he learned to like doing. Cas had told him to become a monster for Heaven — Cas could have told him to do anything.

Dean had tried boundaries. No more teleporting close enough to kiss. No more unannounced forehead touching, zapping him to random places. Not unless he really had to. He could drive and Cas could tag along. It had occurred to him too late that this was somehow worse — more physical maybe than the magic Cas did to get them from point A to point B — they’d already become too intimate. And he understood now that it could not be reversed. And Cas didn’t get it. Even if he did. He’d lost everything for it.

So Dean smiled and lied.

When he considered that all this was a punishment rather than a gift, the existence of God seemed more likely.

The worst part was, while Cas remained oblivious, Sam seemed to have caught on. Hell — it seemed like Sam knew before Dean did.

[rom-e-o]

The boys (including Bob) all being invited out for a "business dinner" by a prominent but sleazey associate that ends up being in... an adult entertainment venue that's geared mostly towards the gentlemen. This associate doesn't bother to mention this to the boys for whatever reason, so, naturally, the wives are invited along, because, unless it was top secret, why would you not invite your lovely, charming better halves along for an evening of what you presume to be fine dining? Needless to say, NONE of the couples are very impressed, but this associate insists on having the "meeting" here, and because he is someone with significant pull on high places and would be ideal to have an ally in, they all bite their tongues and go along. Cue the ladies kind of putting a damper on this man's (and, really, a lot of men's) evening as they naturally kind of monopolize a lot of the working girls' time with genuine and friendly chatting. Yes, they definitely offer up help and services to lots of the girls who would like to get out of the business but feel stuck. Yes, they also discuss beauty tips. And work out routines. And like be connections. And just have lots of positive interaction with the girls working there, because these are three core Pack women, why wouldn't they connect with these women?😅. Maybe they even talk with a depressed man they find in there or help a guy who's trapped there by his mates but wants to get back home to his own girl so he doesn't screw things up with her.

And the hubbies are just as enchanted with their beloveds as ever.

Ooooh ... I love this! And how absolutely in-character that entire scenario is for them. They would SO be the type to walk into a room of topless waitresses and dancers and immediately start making friends.

The associate brings them to this private area, just swarming with ladies. Poor Bob is red in the face the WHOLE time, and can barely glance up from the floor. Thankfully, Ethel leads him along. ("Careful, watch your step.")

I feel like the ladies are mostly amused by the showboating. The obvious display of 'manliness' in the form of this entertainment display. It's incredibly transparent.

As they settle in, waitressed bringing them drinks and rubbing shoulders, the ladies start working their magic around the table.

"Mmm...someone on here is wearing Neroli Portofino by Tom Ford. Who is it?" Connie asks.

And one of the more timid girls, who obviously is hesitant to be there, stammers, "O-Oh, me. I'm sorry, is it too fragrant?"

"No, it's lovely! Perfume smells different on each person because of pH. It smells delightful on you."

"Oh, thank you! I-It was a gift from my mom."

The head gent starts snapping for another round, but oh no. The ladies talk over him.

"Your mom? Is she local?"

"N-No. Um. She lives in Lavenham. You wouldn't know-"

"Suffolk, right?"

"N-wait, yes!"

Meanwhile, another convo with the woman starting to dance, Bess says, "Oh, hey, excuse me! I don't mean to leer, but your legs look amazing! Do you also do pilates, or ...?"

"Oh? Actually, I do kickboxing."

"Kickboxing? Oh my gosh, you're kidding. I do, too!"

"Not shit, really? Honey, we should got o class together. I've been dying for a spar partner to help me keep my reps up. Want to trade info?"

"Absolutely! Here, sit down right here."

The men are flabbergasted as their entire entourage of ladies completely shifts attention away from them and onto the women in the room. EVEN when he sends that group away and bright new ones into the room, the convos continues. Make-up. Morning routines. Where did you go to collage? Aw, your dog is a viszla? How long have you had her?

Ethel, meanwhile, insists on taking the trays from the girls hands and helping pass drinks, and she is giving these men NO victory. No sashay, so giggles. Just a 'here' and she practically drops it into their palms and goes back to bantering with another woman about her child starting preschool. "Oh, you must be so excited for your little Marguerite! Congrats, pet! Does she knows what she wants to be? ... London's first astronaut? Well, I'll be watching the skies for her!"

The hubbies are enamored, and so proud. They already weren't going to let this sleazeball walk all over them, let alone use an adult venue to turn this into some pathetic excuse for a pathetic excuse of a stag party. But to see their wifeys give these ladies a good time while completely talking all over the plans of this sleazeball? Oh, it's glorious.

[hobisfavoritespritecan]

FUCK YOUR LIFE'S PERCEPTION

TYLER DURDEN X READER

⚠️Warnings: swearing ⚠️

Just a short drabble. Tyler tells you he cares about you. That's about it.

Tyler's cigarette smoke rose up from the end of his cancer stick and drifted up towards the ceiling of the non-ventilated room. The green paint was peeling in tremendous amounts and the stains from water damage were evident. The smoke curled in cylindrical spirals and kissed the chipping paint almost as if inviting it to fall to the floorboards below; which conveniently, were also subject to the same damage from the water above.

You laid in silence next to him, watching the sights from above and playing with the hem of your shitty Goodwill shirt that had been unraveling due to hasty scissor cuts you'd made the night before upon realizing it was longer in length than you'd originally wanted it. You were both in desperate need of a shower and while not bathing might've fit the aesthetic of Paper Street, it did not go over well anywhere else.

Motioning towards his pocket, Tyler silently offers you one of the cigarettes he has. The container itself only held two of them while the rest of the semi empty box has a couple of bloodied tissues stuffed into it's crevices and a haiku from you which read:

"Tyler, that bitch boy, God I love that man to death, shut the fuck up please." You had given it to him for his birthday and was quite proud of it to say the least. He looked at it, laughed, and then stuffed it into the very same pocket he had just withdrawn it from. The smoke was fading now, trying desperately on a fight against the house to find an open window or a vent to no avail.

Taking a cigarette for yourself, you allow him to light it. The drag was long and slow and you felt your lungs fill up with what you presumed would eventually kill you.

"A lot on your mind?" The leather jacket-clad man asked with a twinge of a smile, growing fond of your company over the past few weeks. Ever since he'd offered his services to you at Lou's while you were working, you'd grown attached to him. The night you guys fucked and laid in bed afterwards talking about how soap was the yardstick of civilization and how there should be more methods of shaving for women, you knew you couldn't just be fuck buddies. Your emotions with Tyler ran deep.

"Yeah, something like that." You said, blowing the smoke out and watching it meet the rest of the clouded air above. It was soothing in a way. Almost as comforting as a hug if you liked them.

"Wanna go for a walk?" He asked, knowing that was your favorite past time when you had plaguing thoughts. Sighing at his perfectness, you agree by getting up from the magazines you had plopped yourself down on on the floor. Placing your hands behind your back, you lean back and crack it with a satisfied hum escaping your lips. Tyler joins you and picks up his red tinted glasses on preparation for the outside.

"How'd you know?" You ask, walking out towards the door leading to the kitchen and eventually to the mud puddle infested streets of the lower income street you resided on with your boyfriend.

"Know what? That you were angry?" He asked smugly, walking after you with that confident manly sort of walk that only pricks seem to have.

"Yeah." You said, shivering once your foot stepped out the door. The shit shirt (as you referred to it as) was only making matters worse considering how thin the material was.

Upon your sudden fixation with the cold, your boyfriend took off his leather jacket and placed it over your shoulders in an attempt at comforting you. It wasn't entirely warm, but it would do.

"I feel like life is just getting worse. Everything is a downward spiral and we're all just inevitably spiraling with it. There's nothing to live for. We're all consumed by the media that tells us to kill ourselves. Nothing is right." You eventually admitted to Tyler who was preparing another cigarette from his pocket. Grinning, it seemed as though he liked your response considering how he didn't have to pry the information out of you.

"You sure you don't just need a shower?" He asked, walking alongside you purposely going through all the puddles accompanying the sidewalk you were on. He was strange like that. You were sure there was a poetic meaning to it as there always seems to be, but you didn't feel like figuring it out in this moment.

"Well, that too. But I'm serious, Tyler. Everything is shitting on everything else."

"I agree with you. The world is chaotic and terrible and beyond redemption. Humans redeeming themselves? Forget about it."

"Exactly. It's just-"

"-but there are some good things."

You stopped in your tracks. Did Tyler just contradict his every statement? He's always rambling on about the terrors of the world the unfortunateness of the human condition. It's always the media that's cynical. Down with the patriarchy. Everything sucks. Why was he disagreeing with you now?

"What do you mean by good things?" You asked, genuinely curious by his change in demeanor.

"I say fuck your life's perception. You're entirely right about everything. The world is beyond saving. People are dying everyday and the rich get away with murder. We're slaves to the television. But- there are some things worth living for."

Curious, you give Tyler that look which reads "what are you going on about?" In an urge for him to continue. The puddles stopped the closer and closer you guys made it to town and his shoes eventually stopped making the rubbery squeaking noises of clothing material hitting water. Gravel replaced the mud and Tyler started to kick the stray rocks beneath his feet.

"Like what?" You ask.

"Like soap. Literature. Arson. Bagel Bites. You." He says, matter of fact as if he didn't have to think of the answer at all. He was such a a badass, seeing the world for the way it was; grimy and worthless. He taught life lessons to the space monkeys he kept in the basement of Paper Street. There was no special little snowflake attitude about him. He was solely the most interesting and intelligent human being. From the way he wore his clothes to the way he treated everyone else. The way he smoked and the way he preferred baths over showers. He was always the first to willingly touch the city subway railings not caring if he got sick. He blew shit up for fun. And now he was telling you that you were something good about his life, something that he valued so little.

"You- you mean it?"You ask, reaching for his hand now that the sidewalk was level.

"About what I said in regards to Bagel Bites?" He joked with a knowing smile. "Of course."

"No, asshole. About me."

"Oh," he pretended to think for a moment, "yes."

[rickgrimesdoingrickthings]

ಠoಠ

A headcanon about a pet peeve for Rick- something he really hates and will test his patience.

When people say or act prejudice based.

It's not because Rick is some random moralist. In my opinion, there are many reasons why it annoys him so much when people act racist or sexist etc. 1) First thing is- to act based on prejudice is stupid- Rick is very intelligent and stupid people annoy him, specially people who are willing to use prejudice to act superior than others. Prejudice is based on shallow, superficial ideas, puts everyone in the same bag and is strongly influenced by bias- to Rick, that's the most stupid way of thinking. People who say "all men are like this" or "all women are like that" are basically putting 50% of the world population in the same bag without considering each person's peculiarities. Judging without knowing is stupid to him, who acts mostly based on logic and rationing. 2) Second thing- he's sensible and smart enough to know people are way more than race, gender, etc. and are not defined by that. So when someone uses prejudice to erase others, Rick interprets that as injustice, and guess what, Rick hates injustice.

3) Third thing is personal- he has suffered because of prejudice- Rick is far from the concept of what sexist traditional people expect and construct as what "a man should be like". Of course you can't even compare the struggles Rick faces for not being the "ideal male stereotype" with what minorities go through- in fact, black people, LGBT+, women and immigrants go through a lot worse on a daily basis (Rick considers that injustice, considering the previous topic). The point I'm trying to make is- Rick doesn't fit in what most of a sexist society expects a man to be like. He is sensible, emotional, he is not aggressive, he likes art, he's shy, he hates conflict, he is not muscular, he is not big, he doesn't like imposing his opinions, he doesn't like being the center of all attention, he doesn't like to show strength and authority all the time, he is not a womanizer, he doesn't like drinking, he doesn't like going out with friends to bars etc, he likes to read, he likes to draw, he likes to take care of his kids, he is not a controller, he likes to cake care of his appearance, he likes to look good, he doesn't like flirting with strangers or being flirted by strangers. Rick has so many traits that sexist people would disapprove. He probably already got bullied a lot because of who he really is like and maybe it's one of the main reasons he is so reserved about his tastes, about the novels he likes to read and even about the sweets and snacks he enjoys. He hates to see people emulating actions based on prejudice- shallow values that hurt others, without critique, without empathy.

4) Fourth thing- Prejudice thinking / acting is bad to the world.

Rick is aware of the oppression people go through. He thinks racism, sexism, homophobia, xenophobia etc. just bring more pain to the world. That causes more hate, more crimes, more chaos, more suffering, more wars, more mental health problems and diseases, more conflicts and more unhappiness. Prejudices are rocks in the road to the ideal happy world Rick wish that existed. He thinks such things harm human society as whole, he doesn't want that. As a cop, Rick already experienced so much disgrace and violence, many caused by prejudice and it's direct and indirect effects.

5) Fifth thing- Prejudice limits people. It's quite simple: many men could have been great artists, happy with their art, but weren't because they got laughed at, for art wasn't something "manly". Many women could have survived aggressors if they had been taught to defend themselves instead of being labeled as "fragile". Rick has a very practical blunt view of people- he always tries to see the individuals, not the labels. He wants to be free to be a loving father who is present to take care and play with his children- he wants to be free to teach his daughter to fight and be strong- he doesn't want prejudices in the way, he doesn't want people to bother him because of prejudices they carry. He doesn't want his group being weak because the survivors are having their potentials limited. He's very practical, he doesn't want people feeling superior trying to force other people to live in any specific way against their will- to him, as long as people respect the laws so society can be peaceful, people should be free.

@wexarethewalkingxdead

[wolfnanaki]

Greetings. During my various interactions with the fandoms of GVH and Snoot Game, a common anti-trans argument I frequently saw was that trans people don't need to change their gender to have expressions incongruent with their assigned gender at birth. i.e. Someone can do traditionally male-oriented things without actually being a man. Therefore, they say being trans is pointless because there is never a reason to change one's gender as anyone of any gender can do anything. Personally I can't really come up with a good retort for this without sounding like I support gender stereotypes, so I want to ask, if it's okay with you: What do you usually say in response to people who say that sort of thing?

It's a silly argument that anti-trans people make, because here's an important question: why are these activities being grouped with genders? Why do certain things need to be forced into binary gender roles?

The "trad" crowd would have you believe that things like sports, breadwinning, fighting, etc. are all things that define masculinity, while femininity is all about being a homemaker, servitude, baking, cleaning, stuff like that. But we know that's all bunk because we see people doing the opposite all the damn time. Women who love boxing and chopping down trees. Men who feel at home at bakeries and teaching.

None of these activities have any bearing on your gender because, despite what conservatives will tell you, they aren't gender-exclusive. The way this gets framed by transphobes is insisting trans men are forcing themselves to do more traditionally manly things to prove their masculinity, and the opposite for trans women.

In this framing, they see transness as a performance. As in, they see it as a fake act done by delusional people trying to be something they're not. It is part of what informs their whole worldview about trans and nonbinary people.

Here's my point, short and sweet. Your activities aren't your gender. Your gender, how you find it, how you come to express it, is all you. You define you for your own self. Sometimes that leads you to changing the way you dress, or taking medications, or changing your pronouns, or other things. But it's your gender and your body. No fucker on the internet has any right to tell you what you are or aren't. And they sure as fuck have no right to tell you what hobbies you should/shouldn't have.

On the topic of Goodbye Volcano High, we can actually talk about a character that fits perfectly into this discussion. Sage is a trans man (assigned female at birth). When he was young and living as a girl, his parents pressured him into acting, presenting, and performing traditionally feminine roles, and he couldn't stand it. But after coming out as a trans man and beginning his social transition, he came to enjoy looking and presenting in a feminine way, now that it was a choice he could make instead of an obligation. And like Fang, he doesn't want to have to perform more "masculine" to prove his gender; he's happy as he is.

Sage does not make sense in the rhetorical world espoused by transphobes. And there are many trans and nonbinary people like Sage too; trans men who like being girly, trans women who like being manly, and nonbinary and genderfluid people who can have a whole variety of gender presentation preferences.

There are as many ways to express gender as there are people in the world.

Anyway, shorter version: gender is a much deeper and personal thing that just the hobbies you do. I hope this helps. 🏳️‍⚧️

Sorry if this ended up being longer than what you're looking for, I just find stuff like gender and gender expression fun to think about!