#i know these are stereotypical pictures but i need you to understand that these were the textures i lived every day

[transform4u]

I was raised in a Christian setting, but I was always so proud growing up about being openly gay and flamboyant. Now that I’m older, all my old school friends are getting married and starting families. I used to think those straight guys were so boring and mundane for wanting to settle down. Now I feel so bored with my long time boyfriend. I keep having this weird urge that I need to breed and spread my seed. The more my values change, I feel my breeder kink growing stronger. Can you help me understand what’s happening to me?

It's late at night, and the verse from Corinthians weighs heavily on your thoughts. "Act like men, be strong." Those words, ingrained since childhood through Sunday sermons and Bible studies, echo in your mind like a mantra. You've never truly understood them, I mean it was all just boring, conservative values your parents tried to install in you. But you were nothing like that were you. You wanted to be out and proud and attend every Pride parade you could, putting on rainbow beads and tight clothes----but that's not what those words mean "Act like men, be strong."

Yet, as you mull over these words, a realization dawns on you. Your concept of what it means to "act like men" has been shaped not only by your Christian upbringing but also by societal norms and expectations. Society has painted a picture of masculinity that emphasizes toughness, stoicism, and dominance. It's a definition that leaves little room for vulnerability, sensitivity, or exploration of emotions.

The urge to conform, to live up to these ideals, is strong. It's ingrained in your psyche, reinforced over years of conditioning.

As you reflect, your mind drifts to your boyfriend, the person you care deeply for but who seems to fall short of the masculine ideal you've been taught. You try to reconcile his kindness, his gentleness, with this notion of strength and manliness. Your lip quivers slightly as conflicting emotions surge within you.

A smirk begins to form on your face—a smirk tinged with bitterness and a hint of rebellion. You think about how predictable your relationship has become, how safe and comfortable yet lacking in passion and excitement. The thought of being with another man, someone more assertive, more daring, stirs something inside you—anger mixed with desire, disgust intertwined with curiosity.

You can't help but feel a growing anger and hatred towards your boyfriend. He's not strong enough, not manly enough to satisfy you. You start to question why you ever fell for him in the first place. His kindness seems like weakness now, his gentleness a sign of femininity.

As your self-inflicted homophobia begins to creep into your soul, you find yourself disgusted by the idea of having sex with another man. It goes against everything you believe in; it goes against the Bible. Your mind fills with rage, a rage that will fuel your changes. You know what needs to be done – break up with him and find someone who can truly make you feel alive again.

Your smile morphs into a cocky grin, reflecting a defiance against the norms that have shaped your understanding of masculinity. The rigid expectations seem suffocating now, and you wonder if you've been playing a role, conforming to a stereotype that doesn't fit who you truly are.

It starts as a simple sigh, a release of tension and uncertainty that has gripped you for so long. The weight of expectations—societal, religious, personal—pressing down like a heavy mantle. You yearn to break free from these constraints, to redefine yourself beyond the confines of what others expect you to be.

As you exhale, the sigh deepens into a grunt, a primal sound of frustration mingled with determination. You feel it in your gut—a sudden surge of energy, a tingling sensation that spreads through your entire body. It's as if something dormant within you is awakening, stirring to life with newfound vigor.

You let out a deep, loud, and obnoxious "buuuuurrrrrrrrrp" that echoes through the room. The sound reverberates in your ears as you feel it pulsate throughout your muscles, filling you with energy. You stand up straighter, chest puffed out proudly as if to say "I am here."

Your eyes narrow into a fierce glare as you think about all the changes that need to be made. No more will you settle for mediocrity or complacency; it's time to take control of your life and become the person you were always meant to be – strong, confident, and unapologetically masculine.

Your gaze lowers instinctively to your stomach, where once a softness resided, now replaced by a transformation unfolding before your eyes. The smooth contours give way to something altogether different—a ripple, a shift beneath the surface. Thick, cobblestone abs begin to form, each muscle defined with startling clarity. You watch in disbelief as your body undergoes a metamorphosis, sculpting itself into a form that feels both alien and strangely exhilarating.

A deep, booming laugh escapes your lips, echoing in the room. Your Adam's apple thickens perceptibly, your voice dropping several octaves in pitch. It resonates within you, a newfound resonance that reverberates with power and confidence.

Your biceps swell, veins popping with every flex, pulsating with strength. Your chest rises, pecs transforming into hefty mounds of muscle and flesh that demand attention. You can't help but marvel at the physical changes taking place, each movement involuntary yet empowering. "Holy shit," you say to yourself, feeling your muscles grow underneath your skin. "This is fucking awesome!" You flex your bicep and watch it bulge outwards like a rock-hard mountain peak. A grin spreads across your face as you imagine what else might be possible now that these changes have begun.

Involuntarily, you flex, feeling the newfound strength coursing through your veins. A laugh, almost primal in its intensity, escapes your lips—a laugh that breaks through the constraints of expectation and conformity. It's a laugh of liberation, of embracing what it means to be yourself, unapologetically.

As you stand there, caught in the throes of transformation, you're acutely aware of the societal expectations weighing upon you. Masculinity, as defined by the world around you, seems to demand a certain mold—one you're unwittingly beginning to fit into. The laughter that bubbles up from within feels almost intoxicating, a euphoric rush of newfound strength and vigor.

But with each laugh, something shifts. It's subtle at first, like a distant echo fading into the background. Your thoughts, once sharp and nuanced, begin to blur. The intricate web of ideas and knowledge that defined your intellectual prowess starts to dissipate.

You chuckle, the sound now more boisterous, more carefree. The complexity of language and the depth of thought seem distant, replaced by a simplicity that borders on naivety. Words become harder to grasp, sentences more challenging to string together. The transformation is not just physical but cognitive—a gradual erosion of the sharpness that once defined you.

In its place, a new narrative emerges. Football dominates your mind—Nick Bosa's stats, the plays of the 49ers. It's as if sports trivia and player statistics fill the gaps left by receding memories of literature and philosophy. Workout routines and protein shakes become your daily rituals, intertwined with memories of frat parties where showing off your gains was a source of pride and admiration.

You remember vividly the time when you and your bros were goofing off, teasing each other for acting like fucking homos. Endlessly in the mirror, flexing your biceps and pecs until they shine with sweat. You could feel the burn as blood rushed to your muscles, making them grow bigger and stronger by the day. The sense of accomplishment after each workout fueled an insatiable desire to push yourself even harder next time.

You remember being at the gym with your bros, pushing yourselves to the limit during a grueling workout. The smell of sweat and testosterone filled the air as you grunted through each set, encouraging one another to go harder.

One day, things got a little out of hand when you decided it would be funny to rip a gross protein fart in someone's face during downtime. PFFFFFFTTT Laughter ensued but so did an overpowering stench that lingered long afterward – even in the showers later on, you found yourself growing dumber by the minute as if unable to process basic information like addition or subtraction anymore due solely to this lingering odor clouding your mind.

The once-keen mind now swims in a constant haze, like a permanent state of drunkenness. Thoughts are simpler, actions more instinctual. You revel in the camaraderie of locker rooms, the adrenaline of the field, and the thrill of physical prowess. Intellectual pursuits fade into the background, replaced by a newfound appreciation for physicality and camaraderie.

You awaken and find yourself at a raging frat party, where the air is thick with excitement and the beat of music pulsates through the crowded room.

As you make your way through the crowd of the party, the changes become palpable. Your face, once marked by youthful innocence and boyish soft features, begins to shift. There's a subtle hardening of your jawline, a chiseling of your cheekbones into a more angular shape. The lines of your face sharpen, mirroring a rugged determination and confidence that exudes from every pore.

The party scene materializes—a frat house buzzing with energy, filled with the scent of sweat, alcohol, and the faint hint of testosterone. You remember the cheers, the high-fives, the sense of camaraderie that surged through you like a tidal wave.

Amidst the revelry, a cross necklace slips around your neck—an unexpected accessory that feels strangely comforting. It's as if with each clasp, a subtle shift occurs within you. The liberal, woke ideals you once held dear start to fade, replaced by a deepening conservatism and a newfound faith.

You find yourself thinking about how liberals are just a bunch of whiney pansy-ass snowflakes, crying about their lame-ass woke agenda.

You find yourself immersed in conversations about sports, politics from a conservative viewpoint, and the importance of faith in shaping moral values. Your vocabulary shifts, becoming peppered with phrases like "alpha," "bro," and "dude." reflecting a growing sense of identity—one that aligns with traditional notions of masculinity and righteousness. You bump into your best bro, Chaz, a linebacker for the college football team. He's already fucking wasted as shit. He's got a beer in one hand and the ass of some sorority bimbo in the other.

"Hey man, how's it going?" you ask as you give Chaz a fist bump.

"Fuckin' great," he grunts in response. "I just beat the shit out of some faggy snowflake loser who thought he was too smart for his own good."

You nod along in agreement, feeling your blood boil at the mere mention of liberals and their woke ideals. "Yeah bro, those guys need to learn their place," you say with conviction. "They think they can just walk around being all sensitive and shit...well not on my watch!"

Chaz chuckles before patting you on the back. "That's my boy," he says proudly.

You become more assertive, bordering on brash. Your actions are bold, filled with bravado—a display of confidence that borders on arrogance. At the party, you're the center of attention, regaling others with tales of conquests both on the field and in bed. The admiration and envy in their eyes fuel your sense of self-importance.

As the night wears on, you find yourself surrounded by like-minded individuals, bonding over shared ideals of masculinity, conservatism, and Christian values. The party becomes a celebration of these newfound convictions, a reaffirmation of identity that feels both liberating and confining.

As you navigate through the pulsating crowd at the party, your steps grow increasingly unsteady with each sip from your red plastic cup. The alcohol courses through your veins, emboldening you with a false sense of confidence. Your demeanor shifts subtly, from casual revelry to a more exaggerated swagger—a display of bravado that borders on arrogance.

Through the haze of the party lights and the din of music, you spot her—a pretty girl, a pretty drunk girl with her friends, laughing and chatting animatedly. Her long, flowing hair catches your eye first, illuminated by the flickering lights. She's wearing a stylish outfit that accentuates her figure, exuding a natural allure that draws you in.

As she laughs with her friends, her smile lighting up the space around her. She's wearing a tight, revealing outfit that accentuates every curve, drawing attention effortlessly.

You find this chick incredibly hot. Her tits look huge in her tight outfit, straining against the fabric as she laughs and talks with her friends. There's no denying that she's dressed like a fucking slut, there's no way she's not looking for some action tonight.

You can't help but think of all the ways you could pleasure her; how good it would feel to have those big tits bouncing up and down as she rides your cock while she moans your name. The thought alone makes your blood rush and muscles twitch with anticipation.

Without hesitation, you make your move towards them, hoping that tonight will be the night where all your fantasies come true.

With a surge of bravado and a newfound sense of confidence, you make your way towards her, navigating through the crowded party. Your muscles tense subtly beneath your shirt as you approach, a smirk playing on your lips. You know you've got her attention even before you say a word.

"Hey there, sweetheart," you greet her, your voice carrying an edge of cockiness and slurred drunkenness. "Enjoying the party?"

She looks you up and down, her gaze lingering appreciatively on your physique. "Oh, definitely," she replies, a playful glint in her eye. "Especially now."

You can't resist showing off a bit. With a confident grin, you flex your biceps, the muscles bulging impressively. "Like what you see?" you tease, punctuating your question with a quick pec dance, causing your chest muscles to ripple under your shirt.

Her friends giggle in response, egging you on with cheers and playful banter. The girl herself leans in closer, her demeanor flirtatious and unapologetic. "Very impressive," she remarks, her voice teasing.

"Yeah, been hitting the gym hard," you boast, leaning in a little closer to her. "But enough about me. What's your name?"

As you flex your biceps, she can't help but feel the thickness of your muscles beneath her fingertips. Her eyes widen in surprise and admiration at the sight before her.

Blushing deeply, she bites down on her lower lip – a telltale sign of how horny you're making this little slut. It's clear that this girl is interested in more than just conversation; she wants to explore what else lies beneath those bulging muscles.

She introduces herself, her smile widening as she matches your flirtatious energy. The conversation flows effortlessly between you, punctuated by laughter and lingering gazes that speak volumes. You revel in the attention, enjoying the rush of attraction and the validation of your confidence.

"You know what they say," you smirk, leaning in closer to her. "Want to see what a real man is like?"

Without waiting for an answer, you yell over the music and laughter for your bro Chaz. He appears moments later with a keg in hand, grinning from ear to ear at the sight of this potential conquest. You motion towards him and he slides the keg closer before taking off again into the crowd.

Grabbing two plastic cups from somewhere nearby, you start to fill them both up with beer before handing one to her. As she takes it from your hands, your eyes travel down her body – lingering on those "big tits straining against her top and that fat ass encased within tight jeans…god damn she's hot little slut!" you think. With each pump of the keg comes another surge of desire; any notion of your old boyfriend is washed away by now replaced instead by an overwhelming need feel manly tonight here now this very moment right here right now while also experiencing deep-seated homophobia. The thought of two dudes kissing makes you want to puke. You can't stand the idea that someone might think you're gay just because they saw you hanging out with another guy.

Your disgust for fags only fuels your desire for the chick in front of you. She represents everything that's feminine and attractive - everything that a fag isn't. As she grinds against you on the dance floor, all thoughts of fags disappear from your mind as your horniness reaches new heights

Nothing else matters; the only thing that matters is getting laid tonight. As she takes a sip from her cup, your dick hardens in anticipation. Without hesitation, you grab her fat ass and pull her closer for a drunk makeout session while Chaz cheers you on from nearby.

"Babe," you slur in your thick New Jersey accent between kisses, "you're so fucking hot." Your hands roam over her body as she moans breathlessly into your mouth. "I wanna fuck you so bad."

"Giovanni—Gio—take me! You big Italian stallion; I need your thick cock!" she moans breathlessly, with that cocky smile still plastered across your face, there's no turning back now…your fate as the biggest college douchebag ready to plant his seed across campus has been sealed. You fuck the dumb slut with all the passion and aggression of a true alpha male. The cheers from your fellow frat bros only serve to fuel your ego, making you feel cockier and cockier with each thrust. This is what it means to be a man – taking what you want when you want it without hesitation or remorse. And right now, all that matters is claiming this woman as yours while satisfying your primal urges...

You wake up the next morning, hungover as fuck but feeling pretty damn good about yourself. As you stretch out your muscles and roll over in bed, two dumb blonde cheerleaders suddenly appear – tickling your thick abs and impressive pecs playfully.

"One of you sluts gonna suck it?" you ask with a grin on your face. They both smile back at you knowingly before climbing onto the bed to fulfill their duties as groupies...

As the two hottest chicks on campus go to town on your dick, you can't help but think: "Lord forgive me." But who cares about forgiveness when you're experiencing this kind of pleasure? Their lips and tongues work in perfect harmony as they take turns sucking and stroking your cock. You moan loudly, lost in the moment – enjoying every second of this decadent morning after.

[unclewaynemunson]

Okay so @willowworkswithwords sent me this fucking perfect prompt about Steve casually mentioning how much of an asshole his dad is is during a movie night at the Munsons and Wayne immediately shifting into Concerned mode, and I almost finished the thing but then tumblr glitched and i lost it to the void forever. I learned my lesson to never save anything to tumblr without backup ever again, buuut here it finally is:

Wayne first met Steve Harrington long before Eddie officially started dating the boy. He figured out that his nephew was head over heels before Eddie himself did. He hadn't been too thrilled about it, at first. In his experience, boys like Steve Harrington, with his big car and neatly ironed polo shirts, could only want two things from boys like his Eddie: drugs and secret encounters in the dark before he'd finally follow the path that was perfectly mapped out for him by his parents. But it didn't take him too long before he admitted that he had misjudged the boy. He noticed it even before Eddie himself did: Steve Harrington had fallen like a brick for his nephew, and he was in it for the long run.

He mostly met the boy in passing, whenever he'd come home from his night shift while Steve was just leaving the trailer park, or when he'd be heading out to get to work at the same time as Steve came by to pick up Eddie for a date or to hang out with that group of freshmen that Eddie would never stop talking about. The boy was always perfectly polite to him, calling him things like Sir and Mister, apologizing for being in his space and thanking him for the most ridiculous little things. Wayne thought it was a bit much, but he supposed that it was just how the boy had been raised, all formal and uptight. There was something behind it, however, a certain guarded look in his eyes, that always gave Wayne this uncomfortable feeling in his gut. He didn't quite understand what that was all about – until the three of them were having a movie night in the trailer on one of Wayne's nights off.

The two boys were all over each other on the couch, their legs entangled and their fingers intertwined, with their heads as close together as if they'd die if they wouldn't be breathing the exact same air. It made Wayne wish he had a camera on him; instead, he tried to imprint the picture into his memory.

He didn't care too much for the movie, which was about some rich teenage girl trying to break free from the restrictive uptown life that was suffocating her by getting herself some no-good boyfriend in a leather jacket – who Steve and Eddie enthusiastically agreed was a “hot piece of ass.” The main bad guy was the girl's dad, a character who checked off all the rich asshole dad stereotypes: suit that made him look bigger than he actually was, wife who let herself be bossed around by him at all times, and that kind of undefinable charisma, which made everyone else feel like all the air had left the room whenever he'd walk in.

'He kinda reminds me of my dad,' said Steve while leaning forward to get himself a handful of popcorn. It was just an innocent, offhand remark, and sounded perfectly nonchalant – but as he said it, the camera zoomed in on the girl's face to convey one single emotion: fear.

Steve leaned back into the couch and stuffed his mouth full of popcorn, getting crumbs all over his shirt and seemingly not noticing how both Wayne and Eddie had frozen by his remark.

Wayne met his nephew's wide-eyed gaze over the top of Steve's big hair. Wayne wasn't exactly a talkative person, and over the years in which Eddie had been living with him, they had perfected the art of silent communication, not needing more than some looks and gestures to have complete conversations with each other.

Wayne raised an eyebrow at Eddie, which meant something along the lines of Did you know about this?

Eddie responded with a barely-visible nod.

Wayne made a sideways movement with his head. Why didn't you tell me?

Eddie shrugged. It wasn't my place to tell, that meant.

Wayne nodded at him and turned his gaze back to the screen, but he was too preoccupied with other thoughts to properly shift his attention back to the plot.

'You wanna stay over?' Eddie asked Steve when the movie was finished.

Steve's eyes immediately flashed to Wayne's corner, that familiar guarded look in them. 'Um... Would you – would it be okay if I stayed the night, sir?'

'You can stay whenever you like, son,' said Wayne. 'And stop calling me sir, alright?'

'Alright, yeah, okay, sorry sir,' Steve stammered, which made Eddie burst into loud laughter. Wayne merely shook his head and got up from his chair.

He never sat Steve down for some official talk about his asshole dad – that wasn't his style anyway. He preferred conveying the message by little gestures: calling him “son” whenever he had the chance, refusing to be called “sir” ever again, giving him a key to the trailer, inviting him over to watch basketball together, taking him fishing when they both had a day off work... After a while, that guarded look finally disappeared from the boy's face. But it returned a couple months later, when Steve accidentally called Wayne “dad” in a distracted moment. Wayne didn't say anything about it; he merely gave the boy a pat on his shoulder to let him know it was okay. He didn't mind getting called “dad” by Steve Harrington for one bit.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Hi! Can I request MM! Raph with a fem s/o who is very opposite of him, like she's kind, dresses very girly, oblivious, kinds like opposites attract. Where one day, reader is getting flirted with but doesn't understand it, and Raph is js getting jealous/protective??

Don’t Flirt With My Girlfriend (Fluff)

MM!Raphael x reader

A/N: Of course you can! I’m thinking jock Raph with his girly yet a little nerdy girlfriend. I don’t know why, but I just find it cute❤️

Warnings: Raph being jealous, and reader being oblivious to unwanted flirting, but nothing too bad❤️

Whoever said that opposite attracts, had no idea how right their words were. When they first uttered those words, they would have had no idea that such a thing as you and Raphael would ever come to happen.

You and Raphael was the stereotypical high school love story. Well… except the fact that Raph was a mutant turtle and considered a hero in the city of New York City , but that is not very important. Raph was a jock, part of Eastman High’s wrestling team, currently testing his waters in the school's American Football team, having played a few successful games. And though he might be big and strong with a quick temper, he didn’t do too well in his studies, lacking behind for quite some time. But that was how he first met you - his opposite in so many ways.

You were sweet, calm and always so happy, yet drawing very little attention to yourself. Well, at least not by sound, but quite a few had their eyes on you. Often dressing in dresses with pretty floral prints in light colors, such as pink, baby blue, light green and soft light yellow and purple, you were the stereotypical girly girl. And not only that, but you were in the same math class as Raphael, which was how you finally got to talk to him, when your teacher asked you to become his tutor.

Becoming Raph’s math tutor meant that you and jock would spend much time together, both at your place and his. And as time passed and the two of you got to know each other, neither of you could help the crush that you were developing. However, it was during this time that Raph learned something very important about you - you were not good at reading his flirting. He could send you all sorts of looks, or say all kinds of sugary sweet things, but you didn’t seem to understand what he was trying to do or say, which was a little frustrating to the young mutant. However, he decided to do his best and follow your tutoring, believing that was a way to get closer to you. When Raph later passed a math test, after you had helped him prepare, he decided to ask you out, and the rest was history.

You and Raph quickly became the couple of Eastman High that everybody knew of. No matter if it was wrestling or football, if Raph did good in his sports, he would make a show of running to you, where he would place a firm kiss to your lips, telling you how much he loved you, before running off to continue his game. That was enough to let the whole school know that you were together. That you were with Raph and that he was with you. Only a fool wouldn’t be able to understand that. Unless some poor soul hadn’t been there to see that. That is where Anker came into the picture.

Anker was an exchange student from one of the Scandinavian countries, having decided to study in the US for a year. That was how Anker found himself in the same English class as you, sitting just a few rows behind you. And it only took him a few days to develop a small crush on you, not knowing about your mutant turtle boyfriend of a jock. Which is why he decided to walk up to you after class, in the hopes of chatting you up.

As you stood by your open locker, getting a hold of the books you needed for your next class after the break, Anker came up by the locker beside you, resting against it as he began talking to you. You smiled a friendly smile to the exchange student, answering his questions as politely as possible, not noticing the way he kept eyeing you every other minute, or how people passing looked at him, as if he was crazy. If Raph saw this, he might as well count his days. But you were totally oblivious, believing that Anker was only trying to be friendly. An exchange student trying to make new friends.

“So”, Anker continued, changing the subject. “What are you doing this weekend, (Y/N)?”

“This weekend?”, you repeated deep in thought. “Well, this Saturday I’m spending time with my family, and Sunday I’ll be studying for Monday”.

“So you don’t have any plans on Friday?”, Anker asked, not noticing the mutant turtle whose eyes was piercing through him, as he walked up to the two of you at a fast pace, his gym bag almost falling off his shoulder. “Would you like to go to the cinema with me on Friday then?”

“No, sorry”, you answered, still not aware of your boyfriend as he was making his way to you. “I already got plans for Friday”.

“Plans?”, Anker asked in confusion. “With who?”

“Me!”, Raph spat at the exchange student, making the boy jump in fear. Not just by Raph’s sudden presence, but by his appearance. No one had told Anker that the mutant turtles were studying at Eastman High. Raph wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close to him, while staring daggers into Anker’s soul, his anger fuming underneath his skin. “I know what you’re trying to do, and you can quit it right now. Don’t flirt with my girlfriend, buster!”

Anker looked more than just a little unsure, before quickly making his exit, feeling Raph’s eyes burn the back of his neck all the way to the end of the hall, until he was out of sight.

“I’m sorry, Raph”, you finally said when Anker was gone, already feeling horrible. “I had no idea he was flirting with me”.

“It’s okay, babe”, Raph said, wrapping his other arm around you, hugging you tightly against him, feeling his plastron underneath his jersey. “It’s not your fault. You’ve never been good at recognizing flirting, so I don’t blame you at all. But if he tries on anything, I’ll punch his face so hard that he’ll-”.

“I don’t think that’s necessary”, you interrupted him, putting a soft hand against his cheek, feeling him lean against it. There was no doubt that having you in his life had helped Raph calm down immensely, having an easier time cooling down from his more temperamental periods. Just like now. The feeling of your warm hand against his face calming him down. “But thank you for looking out for me, Raph. Otherwise I might unknowingly have gotten myself into something dumb”.

“Anything for my girl”, Raph smiled, leaning down to press a kiss against your forehead, causing you to smile like crazy. Even you were able to understand how sweet that gesture was and what that meant. “Are you still up for our date on Friday?”

“Of course I am”, you said, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling his face closer to yours. “I’ve been waiting ever since last Friday for another diner date”.

Raph chuckled at that statement, finding your enthusiasm adorable. “Gosh, you’re cute. Gimme a kiss, babe”.

You giggled, before standing on your toes as Raph leaned down, your lips meeting together in a sweet tender kiss before you pulled back, looking deep into each other’s eyes with bright smiles.

“Eating together at lunch?”, Raph asked.

“Of course we are”, you answered, kissing Raph one more time, before the two of you made your way towards math with your hands entwined.

[rileyslibrary]

Hi, this might be a strange request, but could you please do some sort of character analysis, or maybe tell some of your headcanons for the 141 characters??

I’ve been trying to find some, but everything I find is either weirdly out of character or just some sort of weird projection onto the characters 😭

Not strange at all, anon! It just occurred to me that, for a blog dedicated to Ghost, I’ve never done something like this. Also, I understand what you mean, but it’s also important to remember that headcanons are extremely subjective. Maybe the same applies to my case, and someone also finds my headcanons out of character; who knows?

Please note that I can’t say much about the other boys since I’ve only focused on Ghost, so here are some of my headcanons (i.e. that’s how I personally imagine Ghost):

He’s your average, ordinary guy on the outside. Sure, he is stereotypically attractive (tall, beefy, with a deep voice), but so are a billion other people in this world. There’s nothing extraordinary about him, which is precisely what makes him so intriguing.

I like to imagine his personality similarly to how he wears his uniform—layer, under layer, under layer. You want to peel him like an onion; uncover what lies beneath the surface.

He’s extremely pragmatic and values function over form. It doesn’t matter if something looks bad/ugly/weird as long as it gets the job done. If it works, it works.

Moderation gives him a sense of discipline. He wants to control everything that’s within his ability to do so—managing what food he puts in his body, regulating his alcohol intake, handling finances, and even carefully choosing his words. It helps him maintain his sanity, knowing he has control over his life, especially considering what he went through.

He’s also incredibly efficient. He doesn’t waste time on things that aren’t important or beyond his control.

He’s not a gym rat (he doesn’t regard it as a second home), but he’s definitely a regular. The gym owners are familiar with him, though their interactions are brief—maybe they exchanged a few words to renew his membership in the past, but that’s about it.

He tends to stick to the free-weight section at the gym. If it’s crowded, he’ll put on his headphones to tune everything out, but if it’s quiet, he doesn’t bother. While he doesn’t use the machines often, he’ll turn to them occasionally, particularly when he needs more controlled movement.

Warming up before exercising is particularly important to him, and he takes his time to stretch afterwards, usually in an isolated corner of the gym. He never skips leg day.

He is not a flirt. Usually, it’s others who pursue him rather than the other way around. It’s almost like he has it too easy in that department. He doesn’t have to make much effort—he simply goes about his business (occasionally checking his surroundings for potential dangers,) and suddenly, people gravitate towards him. He’s not a fan of this attention but keeps it to himself.

He engages in a flirtatious exchange almost every day with the elderly lady who manages the convenience store in his neighbourhood, though. He often compliments her on her hair and how young she looks and sometimes jokes that if her late husband were still around, he’d have some competition. She, in return, offers him freebies, which he politely declines. However, he sometimes accepts these gestures in exchange for lending a hand with tasks around the store.

His apartment is modest since he travels a lot, yet he considers it his personal haven when he returns to it. He deliberately keeps it free of any traces of his alternate identity. There’s a family photo framed somewhere. Even his dad included. Maybe he considered cutting him out of the picture but decided against it. He wants to be reminded of both the positive and negative experiences that influence his decisions and actions.

He likes to make his own jokes. They mostly come to him when he does something mundane, like cooking, showering, or watching TV. He doesn’t take offence if others don’t laugh at his jokes, though. He simply views them as idiots or lacking a sense of humour.

He opts for public transport only when needed, like during heavy traffic, but that doesn’t mean he likes it. He keeps his back against the wall and doesn’t wear headphones since he wants to be aware of his surroundings.

He breaks fights if he stumbles upon them late at night and calls the police. When the officers arrive, he is the first to talk to them and usually scolds them for not getting there faster.

I don’t think he wears his mask when he’s out and about. In my mind, Simon Riley is different from Ghost. If someone manages to connect the dots, he’ll make sure it’s the last time they do so. For him, good people don’t know who Ghost is. Only bad people do.

He wants to extend his sleeve tattoo further up his arm but struggles to find the time to schedule an appointment with his tattoo artist. Yes, he has a trusted tattoo artist.

[thesturniolos]

guilty pleasures pt 3- m.sturniolo x reader

summary: i don't think you hoes gonna like it! childhood best friends are head over heels in love until a new person comes along.

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of sex.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

guilty pleasure, but what does that really mean?

for matt, it was the girl he'd called his best friend forever. the girl who had been on his mind every hour of every day from the age of 9.

he'd curse himself for thinking about the way her hips moved and what those lips could possibly do. she belonged in a museum, no girl had ever looked so ethereal to him and it would forever stay that way.

she was whimsical, matt being wrapped around her small pinky finger, twisting him round and round. he was careless, she could have him anywhere, he didn't mind that he was completely and utterly smitten for his childhood best friend.

deep down he had always known that the tiny sweet spot, that was more like a heart shaped crater in his chest, would eventually turn into something more, something that would infect his dreams and his every thought. he would take everything she gave him and never ask for more, as much as he wanted to. if it meant a one-time, heated, oh so heated, moment of weakness was all he'd get and nothing more- he would take it no matter what.

those few moments were everything to him, regardless if it was only a matter of ten blissful minutes.

it wasn't the sex that had made him so enchanted by her unearthly figure, he'd always been aware of the glistening of her skin in the sunlight and the creases in her smile lines that poked at her cheeks when he made a joke.

it was the simplest things that made him fall even the slightest bit harder. however, since that day, the tensions between the two were high, so high that walking past one another without rushing to rip their clothes off one another, was the biggest struggle of the day.

the idea of friends with benefits didn't sit right with matt, friends with benefits felt like a lame excuse, a symbol of pointless sex and the pinnacle of using so called 'friends'.

he didn't just want those desperate, lust-filled instances, he wanted the sweetest parts of relationships. aftercare, shopping trips, baking together and all those picture-perfect, stereotypical couple things.

it wasn't just a small crush to him, it was now a craving. he needed her in more ways than one, in ways he thought she would never understand.

unbeknownst to matt, he was everything and more to her and had been for years. that time at the pool wasn't just the reality of heaven for one of them. it was a memory that they would both cherish.

maybe she did wear that bikini because it was his favourite colour and maybe she did realise how riled up he got when she shook her head free of water and forced her weight onto the sides of the pool. the curves of her body perfectly silhouetted against the cold concrete, a quintessential shadow made.

to her, the shadow was imperfect as she imagined the man's outline mirrored on the floor, caressing the hips of her own one, her hands slipping up to his hair, back to his chest, a fast pace-

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

"hey, matt!" she walks in, a smile spreading across her face. she was holding a bag of groceries in one hand and her phone in the other.

you know what, just keep it cool. that's the approach we're taking from now on.

"hey! where you been?" that was normal, not a single voice crack. 1-0 to me.

"just, you know, catching up with some friends and running some errands." she looks down at her phone, swiping a little and then laughing. a rosy pink begins to dust her cheeks as she turns around and walks towards the kitchen.

"what's got you all flustered, hey?"

"uh- nothing. what are you even talking about?" she rolls her eyes but never takes them off her phone. i frown and look away, whatever.

i grab my phone too, as if it would have an answer because for some reason, her not telling me, really affected me.

i hear her rustling through her grocery bag, rummaging for something and then, yet again, another laugh.

what could be so funny that i can't know?

i look over again, she's not even looking at what she's picking out from the bag, she's fucking fixated on that phone. a grin so wide it makes me ache, a perfect smile.

"no, seriously, what is it? i wanna know!" i pester, leaning over the arm of the couch to face her.

her glance finally breaking away from the device and she stares into my eyes, shrugging. "i don't know, its just a funny joke my friend made," she looks down again, " he just uh- texted me it."

oh. a friend. a he friend, specifically.

the problem i have with this situation is that i know that smile, that one i just saw. that's a purposeful smile. a smile to get me provoked, to get me out of my seat, to make me remind her of exactly what we are.

"oh yeah?" i push myself off the couch, my feet slowly dragging my body towards my girl. yeah, she was my girl. well- for now she was.

"yeah, he just sent me it. see?" she flips her phone to show me and my face twists.

"where'd you find this funny man, eh?"

"i met him a couple weeks ago" and didn't tell me.

and all of a sudden, like that, a quick glance of a phone, a twitch of an eyelid, i realised that the smile wasn't fake and there was indeed a funny man behind that phone.

her eyes weren't on me and they weren't on my fading smile, they were fixated on that screen and i think that was the beginning of the end.

tags!: @sturniolosstar @sturnioloshacker @mattsgirlfriendlol @mattsfaked @mattsturnioloslut @mattsturnioloarchive @noellesturniolo @chrattenthusiast @bernardenjoyer @byechristopher @jupitersturniolos @sturniolopepsi @sturniolo-conspiracy @gamermattsgf @whor3ing @estelleswrld @evieolo @recklessmatt @recklesssturniolo @realuvrrr @thematthewlover @therealestrae @urfavstromboli @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @inlovewchris @ihateeveryone357474 @ilovemattsturn @imlidewwallyhittingdagwiddy @lilasturns @lovingmattysposts @lemonadeloverr @oversturn @plasticferal @poopydroopt @strniohoeee @deatthmatch @fruitglazed @flowerxbunnie @hearts4sturniolo @hawaiihasmyheart @heartsforchrisandmatt @hoesformatt @justangelheree @kqyslyho3 @klarasmith @kirby0strombolli @zooweemamas @m4ttslvr @mattsturniolox

[apogonpjthecoolestfish]

Helpppppp I wanted to come out as aroace to my closest friend, and we were literally coming from a pride parade ("we can come as allies!" "yeah, haha, allies, definitely 🫥") so I thought it would be fine. I said something "ironically" referencing not knowing what sex was (yeah, yeah, stereotypes, whatever, I just needed her to understand the rough picture and hoped to explain more later) and she said something like "omg asexual!you headcanon?" And I told her that it's not much of a headcanon. And. She didn't say ANYTHING. And I tried to clarify a bit (without saying outward that I'm aroace because the reaction made me even more nervous) and she literally didn't say anything for a solid minute, maybe even more. No reaction, no acknowledgement. Just changed the subject after the awkward silence

What do I even do now? Pretend it never happened???

Girl, like literally what was that 😭💀

And this was like my first coming out and damn, I don't want to do that ever again tbh

And yeah, fine, I wasn't really that slick with hiding my identity all this time (literally had a subtle aroace flag ring on) but come on, literally no reaction? Whyyy?

[geese-in-a-frock-coat]

What's your evidence for Watts and Murdoch being autistic? (I totally agree btw)

Hello, internet stranger. Buckle up cause I've thought too hard about this.

Ok disclaimer I have not really sat down and watched the whole thing for a hot minute. Its past nine, you're just gonna have to trust me this one.

Credentials: Mega autisitc

Murdoch:

Does not understand social conventions. Like this ones pretty obvious. He doesn't understand why people keep dogs. Raises his kid in a completely non traditional way. Frequently doesn't get why people care about something that he sees as not being worth it (sports and popular trends and so forth).

Doesn't like small talk

Cares about justice NOT the law. The thing that really makes me think he's autistic is that he cares about things being just and is prepared to break the rules to do so. The main example being he lets that woman out of prison depsite the fact that he could go down for it. He turns a blind eye to Watts and lets Giles go even though they're both criminals in the eyes of the law. And on the flipside he sends George to prison because I think that's what he percieves as justice (if anyone's seen the bridge this really reminds me of Saga at the end of season 2)

Sees through hierarchy. There are so many epsiodes that play out like "I think Mr X is the killer." "But Mr x is extrememly important and influential!" "I don't care he killed her."

Interest in science and inventing. Look I know we joke about stereotypes but like, its a stereotype for a reason. He builds things with an autistic brain. He uses pattern repition through learning about previous inventions and applying them to his own devices.

Visual learner. This is not autism exclusive but he solves cases in such a unique way that it screams ND to me. Murdoch often literally builds a case. They make a joke about clue/cludo but he literally has to make the model of a house to picture where everyone is. He makes all those model of the ladies that were covered in metal. And let us not forget his famous chalk board.

Buzzkill. I say this as a long-term sufferer of leaves parties at 8:45 syndrome. He does 'boring hobbies' which autistic people often have because we don't feel the need to take up traditional ones.

Remember that scene where he attempts to read out his and Julia's book and just absolutely cannot tell that no one gives a single toss about anything he's saying.

Wears the same thing for nearly 20 years. If it ain't broke don't fix it.

Refused to let his wife cut his hair because he didn't want to change from the lady who used to do it.

breather. Part 2: watts.

Cannot read social cues: Frequently insults other station house four people. Pretty sure he called someone's baby ugly but I might have hallucinated that. "You're face is symetrical." Got chucked out of station house because he didn't get on with any of them

Disregard for societal norms: doesn't feel the need to be polite or tactful with anyone or to really follow police protocol. Acts very 'improper' a lot of the time. Only got one shoe shined that one time because that was all he needed. Puts his feet on the sofa, lies on the desk and leans over tables.

Makes limited eye contact.

The man will fidget with anything: Look this is clearly a character decision from Daniel Maslany but its an autistic character decision if ever I saw one. We're talking pencils, cups, fabric, anything. If it is on the set, he will find a way to play with out. And I don't normally like to assign autistic traits onto behaviour implemented by actors but it's basically stimming at this point. I dare you to keep an eye on this man's hands for any scene and I garuntee you they will not stay still.

Disorganised, but not: He always has tiny bits of paper and whatnot in his pockets but always seems to know where everything is. organised but doesn't have to time to be tidy. Same whenever we see his flat, it's equally disorganised. as an autistic person I find things end up all over the place because I don't have the capacity to keep them in order.

Bad handwriting and can't spell

Physicality: Most autistic people will have some sort of problem with co-ordination. He walks uneavenly. He has an odd posture. I always think about that scene where he steps in sick and moves around like a dear on ice. He's clumsy, can't sit straight and has a strange posture.

can't think when being interrupted

can't focus on two things at once.

George realised he'd been possessed by aliens because he was acting normally.

pretzels: dare i say safe food. If not, they're bland, usually the same everytime and take little mental effort to consume.

Strong sense of justic: see william murdoch.

SPECIAL MENTIONS:

Dr Emily Grace: didn't become a doctor becuase she didn't want to adopt a 'cheerful bedside manor.'

Dr Julia Ogden: Married to Murdoch (like calls to like) and sees through the bullshit of victorian society.

Susannah Murdoch: has those two as parents and I have the full confidence of genetics on this one.

In conclusion:

There's probably so much more I could talk about that I just don't remember because there is a lot more of this show than most others. But anyway. Murdoch is autistic because he has to be for the show to work and becuase he often comedic-foils far too close to the sun. And Watts is autistic because there is no way on God's green earth a man who stands like that is neurotypical.

Thank you, internet stranger, I am here all week.

[nalyra-dreaming]

Are Louis and Lestat in an exclusive romantic relationship on the books? Show!stat likes 'variety' and the way I took it is as an open relationship, like they go out and have their fun, but the romantic attachment is exclusive and just the two of them, instead of a polyamorous relationship that has love among multiple people... Anyway, I'm asking because I'm trying to understand show!stat better lol. I don't think the show has been clear about it, but maybe they want us to be confused? That's their goal? Because I believe Lestat only goes to Antoinette after he gets the impression Louis is slipping away. And that he takes Louis' shame in vampirism as shame in being with him too? So I get him trying to find a distraction or whatever. But I struggle with understanding this, not because he's 'with' two partners, because I believe all relationship configurations are valid and well, if they live forever, maybe they need a more diverse sex life than us and sex doesn't equal love lol. But even in his 'non-exclusivity', Lestat is still... Exclusive? Like, he just seems to go to Antoinette. But he also doesn't seem to really care about her either, like, I know we only got Louis' POV and not his, but he let her lose a finger and kicked her out of her own home to have sex with Louis? If he was sleeping around it would've made more sense to me, like, yes, he needs diverse partners, scenarios, kinks etc to entertain his sex life. But this feels like having a side piece only because Louis is distant, but being ready to drop her as soon he feels like there isn't an obstacle anymore. Like, if Louis embraces vampirism, finds some peace with his existential crisis an grief and gets to a good, comfortable place in his life, maybe they can be fully together now. And if/when that happens, I'm not sure if Lestat would need more? Anyway, this makes me so confused, because he has this aura of an extroverted, social, sexy, life of the party etc kind of guy that you'd stereotype and associate with being eternally single, sleeping around etc. But he also took so long to try again after what happened between him and Nicky, then he was fell in love with Louis and stayed in NOLA because of him, they familial and domestic life with Claudia for years and were genuinely happy before everything... There are parts of him that feel pretty traditional and simple too. So I'm like that Oprah "what's the truth?' meme lol. Anyway, thank you and sorry this got so long.

:)) Lestat is… monogamous at heart. I think Sam said that at one point. He loves deeply, and fully, and fatally.

He loves Louis.

Their relationship is not the easiest. We have only seen an edited, distorted picture of it for now, we also know now that Louis (at least thinks) he made it awful for Lestat because he wanted to make Lestat suffer (as he was suffering).

Vampires have (what I call) feeding flings. What Louis does in SF. Fuck and kill. What Lestat obviously does, too, bc Louis expects Antoinette to burn when he comes back.

The problem is that she doesn’t. Because she’s more than a fling. She is a symptom of their problems. In the book Antoine later tells us (yes, in the book Antoine survives) that Lestat came to him to talk about what moved him, which he felt he couldn’t at home, because he felt he would be ridiculed. Lestat in the show alludes to that when he rants about Claudia in Antoinette‘s bed (in the hotel). Antoinette was a retreat.

As such she is both less and more than an affair, something that is made clear by her getting turned later. We are led to believe he only turned her out of convenience, but Lestat always only turns people from or for love.

The edited tale tries to play up the cheating and jealousy aspect, but that is not (all) there is to it. Louis‘ and Lestat‘s main problem came imho, when Louis stopped feeding properly and stopped biting Lestat - the vicious circle that came with the lack of intimacy and bridging of the maker/fledgling barrier.

I talked about that here:

So the truth… the truth is it’s not as simple as we are led to believe. In their good times Louis had no problems inviting prey into his brothel to (fuck and) kill. Or the soldiers in s1. Louis did not even comment on them being in their bedroom :).

I think I would put it: they’re as monogamous as vampires can be?^^

And we‘ll probably see more hints wrt s1 in s3 :)

[bleue-flora]

as much as I like the dsmp story and its message about how there’s a deep down, I can’t help but think about the Bojack horsemen quote about how there’s no deep down and you are the actions you do regardless of someone’s intent or backstory

[context]

I believe you are referring to this quote “That’s the thing. I don’t think I believe in deep down. I kind of think all you are is just the things that you do.” (Which btw yall its real annoying when I have to find whatever the hell you are talking about, no shade just as an aside…<3)

The thing is, both things can be true. Life is about choices, and your every action and inaction has a consequence, (which I think I’ve talked about before but I don’t feel like finding it at the moment). In other words, everything you do impacts the world around you and has lasting effects. You may not know it and are likely very unaware of the consequences (positive and negative). This is because like my post said we are all inherently selfish because we live and see the world from only one view - our own. So yes, you are the actions/“things you do” and choices you make, regardless of the intentions.

At the end of the day, whether you meant to or not, whether you had good intentions or not, if you hurt someone the facts remain the same - you hurt someone. They have a fundemental right to feel hurt and that is always valid, emotions and feelings are always valid, whether it’s logical or makes sense or not. The reason deep down doesn’t change the outcome or the hurt you caused. However, that is about the past action. If you want to learn and grow and form meaningful relationships, avoid conflict… etc. That’s where the deep down comes in. Then it’s important to look at the reasons, not as excuses or justifications but as explanations - a bridge to understanding and shattering our stereotypes, assumptions and judgement.

(Okay, my foot still hurts from you stepping on it, but yeah if it was just an accident then the relationship doesn’t have to just all end over something stupid like it would if I assumed it was intentional.) Yes the impact you make on the world is the sum of what you do and that impact is true regardless if there is a deeper reason behind it. But also, if you only focus on what people do and go no deeper, then you are missing the bigger picture and your relationships will not last long and you are going to live a very lonely and conflictfilled life.

That is why it is important. Not because in the finale of the dsmp Dream’s reveal changes any of his actions, but because it changes our perspective of him and that changes how we act next. Whether we show compassion and empathy or understanding or forgiveness of someone’s actions or run the hell away. (Whether a conflict breaks out over you stomping on my foot so I step on yours back.)

As an engineer, a nerdy metaphor I could use is that it’s kinda like if situations were an equation then the effect and action is the answer (the one side of the =), but sometimes we need to used the other side of the = to solve for x, so we can solve the next equations.

The deep down matters because it should change your action. It matters because in recent years after excusing my behavior because of something or the other, I realized ya know other people might also have a valid reason too. So while my automatic assumption of why they are late to class is that they are lazy, or rude, or don’t care, maybe maybe they actually woke up nauseous and were throwing up which prevented them from being on time, maybe they fainted coming out of the shower, maybe their car wouldn’t start, maybe they had a doctor’s appointment beforehand, maybe there was a car accident making them late, maybe there was a train blocking the road…etc. there are so many reasons, but our mind just jumps to the worst, and we expect grace from others when we are late but wouldn’t give others the same benefit of the doubt. If we had, if instead of judgment and criticism, we checked on them after class to see if they are okay then maybe we learn of their struggle, and maybe they need our help, or maybe we relate and become friends, maybe you share your notes with them, maybe you give them a hug. The deeper meaning changes what you do and like the quote says, what you do is the impact on the world…

[wintersera]

business issues || ceo!kimlip x ceo!reader

notes: i had sm fun writing this i cant lie. BUT anyways if you study business or whatever and i get the terms and shit wrong… no i didn’t pls ignore it </3 ALSO researching high end rich people stuff was a pain in the ass bc it reminds me that i dont have disposable money- also reader is a ‘tsundere’ yk the trope,, and is also like 5’11 just because 😭

cw: degredation, dom reader, sub idol, theyre just very mean to eachother. use of the word ‘brat’ but idk if i characterised kimlip enough to be a brat 😭😭

wc: 3.2k

shit… why is she here?

there was this uncomfortable pressure inside of the meeting room and everyone around felt it, but they couldn’t understand why. a couple guys crossing their arms looking elsewhere in the room, a close ceo friend of yours awkwardly shifting around in their seat and the deafening sound of silence was just… overbearing. you could hear the sounds of a few people tapping their pens, shuffling their shoes, rustling their jackets and good lord it was awkward as hell.

your completely obvious scowl was directed to one person in the room and it was none other than your life long rival, miss kim jungeun.

well let me give you a rundown. you came from a background of extremely successful business men and women. growing up spoilt by your parents, you always looked down at people who were well… less fortunate than you. growing up with a family who were heavily involved with stocks and marketing, you of course, had to honour the family and take up the same jobs as they had. it’s not like you hated it either, in fact, you absolutely enjoyed it. everything was just money, money and more money for you and you were nothing more than happy. your personality wasn’t any better than your average millionaire. picture your stereotypical wealthy individual- that was you, but obviously way worse.

boastful, one of the many words that describe you. you lived for the thrill of business, making risqué deals and then bragging to your peers about how it worked well for you (as if you didn’t threaten them with the risk of losing money… you have your ways) always having recent designer brands on display and whatnot. showing them off to, once again, your peers. and by god you were so cocky about it every single damn time “have you bought louis vuitton's newest arrivals? well i doubt you did, i know a shit ton of your graphs are decreasing. let’s talk about that”

your lifelong rival, kim jungeun, also came from a similar background. another spoiled kid raised by rich and successful parents. like you, she also grew up learning about the marketing business and how to make money easily. another successful business woman in her family, money was a need, a want, a lifetime goal to earn more. she HAD to be rich. it’s just a rich kid thing you know… god, not to mention how painfully bratty she is. throwback to when she’d pester the hell out of her parents to buy her 2 different coloured porsche cars. one black and one red, the same model but different colours… oh, and the time where she started arguing with you about how she wanted the same exact bag as you and begged for you to give it to her? sure, she looked cute be- i mean she looked desperate begging for it. anyways…

now, the two of you sort of grew up with each other, attending the same private school. on the outside people would’ve believed you were friends, really really good friends. but in all seriousness you hated each other's guts. was there a reason? no, not really. rich kid hate was very common actually. petty things like either one of you had a branded item and the other would go mad because they didn’t have it, screaming at each other because you HAD to prove that you were richer than the other, fights over who would ride this specific horse for horse riding practice? the list can go on and on and on.. like said, rich kid problems. what made it worse was that both your parents were best friends, meaning you’d often see each other during your parents’ meetings or somewhere like the golf club. unfortunate right?

anyways, you had started a business at the exact same time as jungeun had. which is also funny because you had started the business in the same area- whats even more funny is that your company specialised in almost the same thing as hers. same starting time, same business, same location, same everything… it’s like you were soulmates or whatever. the thought of that sent shivers down your spine, almost causing you to gag out loud

“my apologies, i feel ill”

you’re sat in the meeting room with numerous other ceos, one notably being your acquaintance miyawaki sakura from hybe cooperation “what’s got you all queasy? nervous for the presentation?” eyes locking into yours, whispering loud enough for only you and her to hear.

“there’s a certain bitch in front of me and the thought of her is making me sick” covering your side profile, whispering back to sakura.

“you have to be joking? miss kim? she’s one, if not, the best strategists out there for marketing. how exactly is she a bitch?”

“uh, hello? i’m clearly the best. also she’s a complete and utter bra-“

cutting you off with a loud cough, the host of the meeting begins his introduction “as you all know, we’ve noticed a couple trends in a lot of your companies graphs. i’ve gathered a few of the best ceos to at least provide some help, because of well… we’re sort of losing audiences right now so-” another throaty cough escapes the mans mouth “-miss kim, if you would like to present first”

rolling your eyes and scoffing i hope you trip over and bruise your ass… her blazer looks very nice today, i wonder who tailored it. whoever did the colouring must use high quality- what the fuck am i thinking about?

not even 5 minutes in and you’re already ticked off. over what? just her, her presence alone pisses you off and it can be seen through the way you’re leaning back on the chair “as seen by this information here i believe that it would most likely attract more audiences. also looking at this chart it sho-“

“clearly you know nothing about the audience, miss kim. you know nothing about this department” a pen twirling around in your fingers.

“excuse me what? i know nothing about the department you say” tilting her head ever so slightly up, intimidating as she may seem, you only scoff at her attempt to drive fear into your heart “i’ll let you know i’m much more qualified in comparison to you”

“HA- as if. i just wanted to mention that your tailoring is humiliating to look at. whoever designed your clothing should be shamed” she looks at you in disbelief, bringing up your petty arguments into the meeting. what are you five?

“miss l/n… you’re stooping way too low” sakura says as she’s holding your arm to calm down.

jungeun ignores sakura, her attention completely diverted onto you and winning the argument “right, as if your tailoring isn’t any better. your cufflinks look like they were made out of nickel silver. how poor do you have to be to buy- i mean borrow cufflinks”

“fuck off. it seems like your eyesight is getting worse, not being able to tell the difference between nickel silver and pure platinum. ha, maybe the fake chopard glasses are fucking with your eyesight”

“you wanna fight?” loosening her sleek black tie, her hands already balled into a fist. seeing her angry made your day, bringing her bratty personality out is what you lived for.

“and break your smug face? with my pleasure” leaping from your chair, you fists ready to land themselves onto her face. yet you feel a couple of people holding you back, one of them being sakura “sakura, you’re a great person, but for the love of god let me go”

“security come quick, a fights broken out” a guy calling for them desperately.

the same goes for jungeun, wanting to smash your face into the table, a few people held her arms. “get off me you lowlifes, you’re ruining my shirt you fucks” flailing around as she’s swatting hands away from her “hands off my blazer, that shit costs more than your monthly salary”

eventually you were escorted out of the building and into your respective cars. what an immature fight you thought to yourself. there was some self reflection going on as your chauffeur drove you back to your house. why exactly did you start pestering jungeun and why did you enjoy it so much? how has she stayed in your mind for so long and why did you keep your rivalry even though you could completely put her out of business (your hubris speaking)

—

you sit at your table, a cup of coffee in your hands as you scan the documents given to you this evening. it was a cold night, the clouds outside your window were dark grey and unwelcoming, much like the knocks at your door “give me a few minutes i’m busy”

you’re currently wearing a white button up, your top button being undone while your tie was hanging around your neck loosely. the rest of your attire was made up of some formal black pants, obviously high end. you looked scruffy today, but it didn’t matter to you since you planned on staying inside your office for the rest of the night.

fuck, your head was throbbing from all the thinking you did yesterday.

another knock on the door and your assistant walks in without any care then leaves? what the fuck “i told you to give me a few minutes, do i need to fire you” shouting at her from across the room. you could care less about your appearance, that was until you saw.. jesus fucking christ… kim jungeun again “why are you here?”

“to apologise for being such a bitch at the meeting” although it sounded genuine, you couldn’t believe someone so haughty could be apologising, it was like you were in a daze how could she be apologising to you while being sober? it’s almost comedic. but you couldn’t just accept it like that, where’s the fun in being nice.

“go on then, bow down and get on your knees or something”

“fuck you mean by that? i change my mind. i’m not apologising to your annoying ass” she spat at the ground “how about you apologise for embarrassing me in front of the other ceos” turning the tables back at you.

as much as she did piss you off you had always looked at her with some sort of interest- yes you fought too much but that’s what made your relationship interesting, to be honest you felt a little sad when she never paid much attention to you. maybe just a little jealous when she would argue with her employees and not you.

“you’re so bratty you know” you scoff, feeling heat rise to your head. standing up from your desk you tread carefully towards her, eyes narrowing as you rip off your tie from your collar, a fiery gaze piercing through her like daggers “there’s no way in hell i will ever apologise to you, brat” you would be lying if you weren’t turned on right now, seeing her once stoic face turn into a cowardly frown made you feel sort of… aroused. “oho, not speaking back for once, cat got your tongue?” your body towering over her with ease, thank the lord for your amazing genetics because now you’re trapping a 5’4 girl between the wall and yourself.

“you’re so pretty when you don’t furrow your brows at me, fuck, you look even better when you have that dumb look on your face” you’ve only been alone with her for a couple of minutes and your knee is placed in between her thighs, she lets out a small whimper, much to your surprise. she could’ve fought you right here right now yet she didn’t, instead she lets you do as you please.

looking at her you coo, “letting me humiliate you like this? i thought you had decorum jungeun,” that may have been her breaking point, you never EVER called her by her first name and with that simplistic action of calling her ‘jungeun’ you had her in the palm of your hands.

jungeun chuckled “you’re saying i’m the one without decorum, yet you’re here pinning me against the wall in your office” her hands sliding down your chest, resting itself on your abdomen. her actions spoke words, she’s as riled up as you were and you knew it.

biting your lip, you try not to make a sound, tracing her fingers around your waist. “you want me don’t you y/n. give in and just fuck me”

the last few words ringing in your ears. forcefully grabbing her arms and bending her over your desk like a slut, her pencil skirt showing the curves of her ass very well “you don’t need prepping, your wetness is already soaking through the fabric… are you a slut or something jungeun?” smirking. without hesitation you drop to your knees, peeling off her tights, exposing her ass to the air “keep your mouth shut for me” you say as you pull her panties aside, her glistening cunt waiting for it to be fucked by you- and you only.

it was a sight to see, and fortunately it was only for you. pausing in your tracks you lean back to observe the scene “you look amazing, however you’d look even better without this cheap skirt” ripping it off of her waist.

“you’re so pretentious that it’s almost disgusting”

“i didn’t say that it looked horrible on you this time though'' truth be told, you were actually internally salivating at the way the skirt enhanced her body lines, but it’s whatever. you could buy another one for her.

parting her folds apart you suck gently on her clit, eliciting a few muffled moans. grabbing her thighs just to pull them apart to make it easier for you. she rolled her eyes back, feeling vibrations from your “mhm’s” and “so good” and other comments on how good she tastes.

the friction of your tongue circling around her clit made her scream out loud “the whole building is gonna hear you if you don’t shut your mouth” yet you secretly didn’t mind that. sure you had a reputation and so did she, but in this moment you couldn’t care less. seeing how responsive she was only made you greedier, she was like money to you; you wanted more. you felt hot, something you couldn’t explain took over your mind and made you work hard. lapping up her cunt, practically making out with her pussy now, you take your hand that was resting on her leg and slide two digits inside of her gently.

“s-shit.. ah-“ clutching onto your desk with her hand while the other one tries to reach for your wrist. moving so painfully slow, you watch her hole swallow and clench around you fingers. entranced by the way it looks and by the way her walls feel wrapped around you, it was like a perfect fit “go, fuck- faster, d-don’t be like this…” the way her voice trembled sent shivers down your body, sounding so desperate and needy that it was overwhelming. never in your entire life had you seen her this desperate and it made you feral.

slowly, ever so slowly, you thrust your fingers in and out. your tongue still working circles around her clit. although it wasn’t like you being sweet and caring, you made sure to start slow. really, fucking, slow. moving her hips in tune to your movements, because you’re that much of an asshole that you had to be painfully slow.

but that’s the fun of it, switching up from very slow to excruciatingly fast- slamming, not two but three, fingers into her dripping cunt. for her it felt out of this world, waves of pleasure crashing all over her body that it seemed like she was being possessed, as you can tell by her legs shaking like crazy. your attention now back at her clit, instead of what you were doing previously, lightly sucking and circling, you licked with passion. it was messy- the way you ate her out, her juices dripping all over your face and dripping down to your chin, something that you could deem as pornographic because it was just that messy “mmmgod- fuck fuckfuck, y/n right there” unfortunately, you didn’t have the view of her face but you knew she would be drooling all over the table from having her cunt be abused.

“so- feels so good…” her moans alone cleared your mind, and you wanted her to scream out your name badly. you felt her walls clench around you harder, knowing that she was on the verge of orgasming you had two options; be mean and edge her, or let her cum all over your face and into your mouth…. the second option sounds way better.

“jungeun mmhm, you’re so close. let me take care of that” your jaw started to ache and your arms became sore, yet your will prevailed. wanting to see her unravel because of you was definitely worth the pain. “cum- cum for me jungeun”

curling your fingers inside of her sent her over the edge, she became breathless and so did you. the sounds of her squirming on the table and the ticking of the clock in the background were the only sounds that could be heard. you ignored the latter and focused on her only. somehow her hand finally made it to your wrist and tugged at the cuffs. then she became limp, as a joke you jerked your hand again which rewarded you with a squeak from her. standing up again, you gazed at her from above. sprawled out across you desk, her once straight hair becoming dishevelled, clothes wrinkled and more- the finest piece of art couldn’t rival such a view.

“um… are you okay? did i fuck you too hard” growing a tad bit concerned. she wasn’t getting up… you assumed she passed out from exhaustion since it was pretty late in the night and well you knew her from childhood so of course you knew she wasn’t able to stay up for much longer“fucks sake, eurgh okay… passed out in my office for what reason” you’re so glad she’s sleeping, or else she would’ve felt the kiss you planted on her forehead “stupid”

—

the next day she woke up in some stranger's bedroom. curious to where she was, she got up from the king sized bed only to find out she was half naked. anyone waking up half naked in someone's bedroom would obviously be scared as hell. she was shocked beyond belief? she knew she didn’t drink so why was she in-

“before you scream profanities in my house, i was the one who brought you home”

“WHATTHEFUCK? oh my bad you scared the living shit out if me… ah- did you at least dress me?”

“well yeah, did you think i would let my employees ogle at you?” you again, scoff at her, your tone less sarcastic than usual “alright come down before breakfast gets cold”

“you made breakfast for me?” the first time you’d see her blushing at you, it was cute but you couldn’t admit that to her face.

“not exactly me, my chefs made it, but i suggested some foods i thought you would like soo…” hiding your face in embarrassment “don’t look at me, please”

[roboneco]

Something I noticed about the difference between the writing of boys and girls in lookism is that with boys

WE. GOT. DEPTH.

The "main" side characters to me are Zack, Vasco, Eli, Vin, Jay, Zoe, Mira, Mary, and Crystal. They are the ones who for the first 200 chapters or so I thought the story will revolve around (till god dog arc of course) I'll only talk about two boys and two girls to not bore you.

We got introduced to Zack as an arrogant bully and to Vasco as a kind hero but a biased one. PTJ could have just gave them character development and all would have been well but NO he decided to give them backstories. Vasco got a full one and Zack got a few panels talking about how he was always praised as the best and how that inflated his ego (remember a backstory is reasoning not an excuse for anyone's actions) till we got a bigger picture during Johan's own backstory that explained why he stopped boxing and turned from a kid who picks fights to an outright bully.

Now listen of course that was the right choice (to give them backstories I mean) but when you do that to every male character, I expect of you to treat the female characters the same way! But no.

Mira first is introduced as Zack's "girlfriend" later we discover she isn't and all we know of her is that she's sweet, courageous and hates fighting......wow she's perfect! No flaws to trace the origin of or to think of how to fix them! Ok PTJ I am now waiting for her backstory where we learn what gave her all these amazing traits and how she managed to be such a good person!

Oh.... apparently she's always been like that... because we didn't get shit. Like even the cult arc which was mainly Johan's anyways didn't give us anything about her. Sure stuff happened to her and she did a cool thing but there was no lasting effects on her that showed in the story. No trauma. No bitterness. No nothing. She is the same before and after the arc except.....of course her relationship with the boys got strained.....

UGHH! Ok ok ok cool cool cool COOL! What about Zoe! Zoe is a queen and her character actually developed and changed! She started as a mean girl who only cared about looks and now she is so understanding and sweet! She even sacrificed herself for Daniel!

Look all this is great. I have some problems with her arc (not all of it!!) but this isn't what I am talking about now. What I am talking about is her behavior is never explained.

"What is there to explain? She has bias like everyone in society. That's literally the theme of the comic. That doesn't need explaining" ok the same applies to Zack! He was shown as the stereotypical bully who then changes their ways and befriends the protagonist type of character. Yet PTJ chose to flesh him out with a backstory and introduced another important character through him (Johan my darling boy) and didn't find it important to do the same for Zoe.....

Like for real not even like one chapter that talks about anything in her life other than boys. Her backstory didn't have to be impactful or anything. I still remember Vasco's with fondness even tho it has nothing to do with the plot now what so ever.

I picked these 4 to talk about because arguably at that point of the story they were all of the same importance but the same applies to the others up there I didn't mention. Except Jay because no hate I feel like PTJ made him as fan service and doesn't actually know what to do with him.

[magpie-trove]

August Reads

Cress & Winter • Marissa Meyer | it was Trying Times and for some reason Lunar Chronicles is one of my go to escapes and comforts turns out. I really wanted to reread Cress but got sucked in and had to do Winter too. Still as good as the first time. Deeply near and dear to my heart.

The Talented Mrs Mandelbaum • Margalit Fox | new non fiction about a Victorian crime boss lady and her band of thieves and fencers. Short and to the point. Interesting. Wouldn’t say it was one of my favorites of the year but it was worth reading.

Your Vote Matters • Rebecca Katzman | childrens non fiction about the electoral process. Made sense and had a real nice layout and pictures!!!!. (Not a picture book it was like 80 pages or something? But yeah I like it!)

Howl’s Moving Castle • Diana Wynne Jones | was just rereading all my faves for a bit there. Still a 12/10 book.

Yours from the Tower • Sally Nicholls | new YA epistolary fiction set in the 1890’s. Surprised me! Actually had a little nuance! Was very good about the characters. Important to me cause it made me understand how people work in certain situations better than I had before. I think I cried sad and I know I happy cried a little towards the end. I do recommend.

Sonnets from the Portuguese • Elizabeth Barrett Browning | still a favorite

Voices in the Air • Naomi Shihab Nye | the Emily poem!!!!! I think I loved Everything Comes Next more, a lot of these poems got more specifically political and idk it takes away their power a bit to me? But it still had plenty of bangers

Wheels of Change • Sue Macy | YA non fiction about the role of the bicycle in the suffragette movement. Interesting topic, real nice layout, lots of good primary sources. It had a reprint of a lot of pretty funny things women were advised not to do while riding, including “do not say Feel my muscle” and “do not ask Do you like my bloomers?”

The Castle of Llyr • Lloyd Alexander | follow up to The Black Cauldron. Beloved. He writes at such a good level and manages to keep the Nobility to the story.

Kilmeny of the Orchard • LM Montgomery | I actually didn’t like this one that much? Kinda hinged on some racist stereotypes and was mean about adoptees and the romance felt kind of condescending. Idk I wasn’t really impressed.

Saintly Women of Modern Times • Joan Carroll Cruz | Learned so many cool stories!!! I did also discover though at times you need examples as encouragement and at times examples might get a little discouraging. The women highlighted were all unique and interesting though!

Mapmakers and the Lost Magic • Amanda Castillo and Cameron Chittock | children’s graphic. Nice art interesting premise and world building. I’d probably read the next one.

Uniformity with God’s Will • Alphonsus Linguori | very good

A Wish in the Dark • Christina Soontornvat | HELLO!!! Childrens fiction with the premise Les Miserables but in Thailand. LOVED IT. SHOOK. I CRIED. BEAUTIFUL. I loooved the characters looooved the words, it was sooooo goooood!!!!!!!!! Made me want to do something nothing else has ever succeeded in (read Les Miserable). Do recommend!

The Lucky Poor • Mazie Lovie | adult graphic memoir about getting a house through Habitat for Humanity and unexpected drawbacks or something? Nothing really struck me about it tbh

Sisters of the Lost Marsh • Lucy Strange | the VIIIIIIBES VIIIIBES FOR DAAYYYYS. Middle Grade fantasy based on English folklore and circus, about six sisters who’s father says they’re under a curse. Beautifully done. This one will haunt me. Do recommend.

Romanov • Nadine Brandes | YA historical fantasy. had its moments but I kinda wanted the fantasy out of it at times though it wasn’t as jarring as some other stuff in that regard. It was a nice walk in the park and then the most nightmarish thing I’d read then just kind of ok. Not bad at all but not my most favorite. I just wanted to read about Anastasia tbh. I think (?) it had a pretty good illustration of forgiveness at one point though that made it make sense to me in a new way.

[alpaca-clouds]

The Vampire antisemitism problem

Okay, folks, Castlevania: Nocturne releases tomorrow and I might as well now talk about this topic, because it is an important one and I realized that a lot of folks do not realize this is a thing.

So, let me be blunt about it: A lot of the original, gothic literature that created vampires how we know them today was technically anti-queer, but most of all antisemitic. And because of that a lot modern vampire media often unwittingly reinforces the antisemitism within vampire horror.

Let me explain.

I think most people understand that those original big vampires (Carmilla, Ruthven and Dracula) are in their text explicitly queercoded. And that is alright, because by now queer people have reclaimed the vampire for themselves. Heck, they actually did so by the 1970s.

But there is another thing that mostly comes out of Dracula. As much as Dracula is a story about queerness "currupting" the "innocent", it is also a story about the British fear of reverse colonization. A lot of people reading Dracula today go about Jonathan's experiences in Transylvania and go like: "Oh, you are a bit of an idiot, aren't you?" When he is so confused about local customs - and also is super ignorant about literally everyone warning him. But... back in the day this was part of the horror. The strange "uncivilized" country was the picture Stoker was going back. Eastern Europe was (and still is by many) seen as less civil than Western Europe. And also... for a plethora of historical reasons also was home to more Jewish people than western Europe.

And, well... In comes Dracula. Who is from the perspective of the book not only one of those uncivil Eastern people, but also Jewish. No, this is not text, but in the description of Dracula the book clearly calls out to antisemtic stereotypes within the description of him.

And... Well, there is the thing about the blood cabal.

For those who lived under a stone for the last 1000 years, a quick explanation: A lot of antisemitic conspiracy stuff involves a secret cabal of powerful Jewish people extracting blood from children to drink it and use it within some sort of rituals. The details change, but the general idea has been the same forever.

And... Well, to put it bluntly: A lot of the historical vampire mythology did not have them as blood suckers. At times energy suckers, yes, but often vampires of all sorts rather made you sick. The entire blood sucking thing mostly came in there through antisemitic stuff.

And a lot of modern vampire media is painfully unaware of this.

Now mind you, this topic is super complicated. Mostly because there is a big issue: You absolutely can use the same symbolism for something else. Because you do not need a secret group to be blood sucking. There is a TON of vampire media out there, in which the vampires are actually a standin for capitalists or - what I believe Castlevania Nocturne to be going for - colonialists.

But... I just wishes that people were a bit more aware about this. A bit more careful when invoking this.

Also... Just do not go with "secret vampires running the world". Just don't. If you have a secret group of vampires secretly running the world... whether you intent it or not, that story is gonna have some antisemitic subtext in there.

[hiiragi7]

Honestly, it's talked about a lot just how rigidly medical many anti-endo spaces are, but I don't think it's talked about nearly enough how pro-endo spaces often fall into the exact same rhetoric. In fact, I have seen many pro-endos who push for even more strict medicalization than anti-endos do with regards to CDDs.

I cannot count the amount of times I have seen a pro-endo system say "I cannot have DID because I did not experience this specific type of severe abuse" or "I cannot have DID because my trauma didn't happen before the age of 9" or "I cannot have DID because I can still function fairly well in my daily life".

By making statements about what kind of trauma needs to happen, or quoting rigid age ranges for DID, or drawing lines in the sand at how disabled you need to be in order for it to count as "disordered enough" to be DID, pro-endos very much frequently fall into the exact same arguing points as anti-endos in order to seperate themselves from DID even if they claim to be against and mock the strict medicalization of DID often seen in anti-endo circles.

Despite claiming all the time that the rules are not as rigid as anti-endos make them out to be, pro-endos still often view DID as something "other" and create similar strict rules and binaries surrounding DID. It's especially prominent in systems who call themselves OSDD, who view OSDD as "less bad DID" and so cling to the OSDD label when their symptoms actually align more with DID. The lines they draw between OSDD and DID very often just show a lack of understanding of what DID's diagnostic criteria actually describes based on their own misconceptions about what DID is, which tends to be very narrow and specific. (Not to say everyone with OSDD is actually DID, of course, but it is a much higher number than people are really comfortable talking about.)

A lot of the time, this is very heavily related to downplaying symptoms as well as misinformation about what DID is. However, when downplaying is related to trauma, it is also a massive issue that the pro-endo community largely does not know what trauma is, either. Similar strict binaries and rules that people make about DID are also applied to the concept of trauma as a whole; especially when trauma has been so discoursified and used as an arguing point to harm endogenic systems, many systems are not comfortable talking about trauma at all.

We see this not only as it relates to dissociative disorders (ex., "Emotional neglect isn't enough to cause DID, you have to have been physically or sexually abused and I wasn't so I cannot have DID") but also as it relates to origins, particularly with things like traumagenic vs. stressgenic. Many pro-endos have very extreme ideas about what counts as trauma, and so do not believe they are traumatized if whatever their idea of "severe abuse" is was not present. Many who were abused in less overt ways or who dealt with trauma that was not related to abuse (ex., chronic stress, major surgeries, or natural disasters) tend to believe they are endogenic and non-disordered because they do not fit the picture of "trauma survivor" they have stereotyped in their head.

A lot of systems also have very narrow ideas of what a trauma response looks like, and believe it only ever looks like classic PTSD symptoms. If they do not have PTSD symptoms such as flashbacks or nightmares, there is a tendency to say "I am not traumatized".

Pro-endo spaces absolutely need to become more comfortable discussing and sharing information on disorder and trauma, because the current lack of knowledge is depressing at best and a barrier to recovery for many systems at worst. I do feel that syscourse has definitely worsened a lot of the pro-endo community's avoidance of discussing trauma and dissociation and the push to seperate experiences into anything except "traumagenic DID", though I do also feel it's related to unchecked trauma responses and internalized ableism as well. There's a lot of nuance and complexities to be found there, and this isn't a problem that can be solved overnight, but I do believe it can get better.

[goingmerryfics]

So since you’re on impel down you’ve surely seen my darling favorite villain Sir Crocodile so may i request just some soft x reader fluff or headcanons for him x a trans male reader i never see x masculine stuff for him but I love him very muchhhhhhh thank youuu 💚👉👈

Trans Male Reader w/ Crocodile

Content: Trans Male reader, he/him pronouns, coming out. No emphasis on if they’re pre or post-op top or bottom so feel free to picture this as you will. No NSFW!

Notes* Thank you for the ask! When I tell you I fell in love with this man the moment he showed up in Alabasta-

You’re not the only one he’s interacted with that doesn’t fully align with the stereotypical gender norms See: Mr. 2

Anyway, as a trans man myself, I’m very happy that this just so happened to be my first official ask. It kind of turned into a bit of a comfort fic, hope that's ok! Please enjoy!

Crocodile

Crocodile knows you’re trans before you tell him

So while you were panicking about coming out to him in the midst of your blossoming relationship, (What if he loses trust in me? What if he reacts badly?) he was oblivious because in his eyes, there was nothing wrong. He was dating you, and you identifying as male or female or otherwise didn’t matter. You managed to worm your way into his heavily fortified heart somehow. Labels didn’t mean fuck all to him if he was already in love with you

Eventually when you do come out to him through ugly tears and hyperventilation, he just kind of blinks at you

“Huh? Why are you crying over that?”

It takes you by surprise

While you’re trying to calm yourself he opens his arms and offers you a hug, which you take happily

While he’s holding you to his chest, he pulls the cigar out of his mouth and sighs

“All that matters is that you’re mine.”

You felt your body begin to relax, surrounded by the warmth of the man holding you tight enough to crack your spine. You’d soaked the front of his shirt with tears and a bit of snot, and yet he didn’t seem to mind. Crocodile holds his cigar away from you so you won’t go into a coughing fit before you can catch your breath, while also being careful of the hook on his other hand- the last thing he needed right now was to snag you on it and hurt you while already in a vulnerable state.

His quiet comfort was enough to pull you out of the panicked state, but he didn’t let up until he felt you take a step back. There was a pause while you wiped up your face as best as you could with your sleeve, and Crocodile stayed patiently waiting until you were ready to look up at him again.

“Better?”

You nod, and apologize for the outburst, but he clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes.

“If I’d known you were so scared to tell me this, I would have let you know a long time ago that I already knew.. Now let's go clean you up.”

Now that the animosity is out of the way though, it feels like your relationship has changed for the better. You feel much more comfortable with him

More importantly, you feel more comfortable sharing certain things with him- and he feels much more comfortable asking questions, too!

One day he asks you what Dysphoria feels like, and man did that take you a few hours to put into words and even then your explanation didn’t feel exactly right

He lets you know very quickly that if there’s anything he can do (he means anything he can pay for, really) that all you need to do is ask and consider it done

He understands when there are days where you don’t want to be touched in certain spots

He makes sure to make it known to anyone else who may know you’re trans that you will not be disrespected whether in his presence or not. If anyone dared to misgender you, he would deal with them accordingly

He also does things that will help you feel ‘manly’, like asking you to open a jar for him even if he could very well open it himself

Long story short, he loves and respects you no matter what

[thisisthinprivilege]

Submitted anonymously

One day I will describe to you the entirety of my hellish experience at the school of public health of which I attend, but until then here is just a sampling.

As a fat person, attending a public health school is extremely difficult (more difficult than I realized it would be) for many reasons, but two of those reasons are the two mandatory classes. I’m in an introductory public health class now and though it is supposed to cover all aspects of public health, every single one of the first ten lectures discussed obesity. We have guest speakers and they have all addressed it in some way or another.

The thing is, their topic may not have anything to do with weight specifically, but they always find a way to work it into their lesson. For instance, one woman was discussing the difficulties of surveying populations. She mentioned that the weight category was often a difficult one with regard to accuracy when people are self-reporting. She mentioned that no one ever says they are a heavier weight, because hell why would they-that would just be embarrassing for most people. This is not an exact quote, but it is pretty close.

First of all she laughed while she said this-super professional- and second, people with secret eating disorders would absolutely lie to say they weighed heavier in order to help cover up their secret. It was really frustrating to have this public health professional be so immature about such an important topic.

The worst thing about this class so far, however, has been the student presentations. A few have been about obesity (I think there is a competition over who can say the word obesity more frequently) and none of them have treated the topic with the least bit of sensitivity, maturity, or professionalism. The worst one started with showing graphs about how high weight correlates with low socioeconomic status, so far this is reasonable and points out a lot of issues America is having with regard to cheap food due to government subsidies. It took a turn for the worst when beside his talking points he showed degrading images. The first image showed a kid having trouble deciphering the difference between chocolate cake and a pile of vegetables, thereby reinforcing the stereotype that fat people really don’t know the difference themselves. The second image showed a very fat child eating at a McDonalds. I wondered if this child had consented to his picture being taken in the first place, much less put on the internet and made into a meme where this presenter presumably found it.

When people laughed at the image I felt disgusted and bile rise in my throat. What kind of monsters laugh at children; my peers are supposed to be professional adults.

Finally he ended his presentation with discussing ways to reduce obesity, but instead of discussing ways to close socioeconomic and inequality gaps, he only focused on what fat people need to do. He said that though doctors are telling fat patients to lose weight there must be some disconnect because so far it hasn’t worked so doctors should double down on fat patients. He was clearly implying that fat people were too stupid to understand their doctors the first few thousand times and just completely ignored how low socioeconomic levels come into play, even though he knew they did.

The second presentation discussed how sugary drinks caused obesity and because of that we should make labels more transparent. I am all for transparency when it comes to food labels, but there are a myriad of reasons for why sugary drinks are bad, not just because they make you fat. He then showed ads that “more accurately describe sugary drink products” rather than the ones with celebrities that are shown now. These ads showed faceless fat people with words that suggested that people not drink sugary drinks if they don’t want to look this way. These ads were in poor taste and extremely degrading.

Finally, the third presentation that was completely unprofessional discussed how black women had higher rates of deaths from breast cancer than white women. She said at the beginning these results controlled for BMI, but then went on to discuss how obesity played a huge role. She said that black women tended to be fatter than white women and that this trend in weight followed the trend in breast cancer death rates and that obesity must be the reason.

This reasoning seemed like she was just trying to find a reason to further blame fat people for all health problems. She said fat women had breast cancer detected later than thin women and I couldn’t help but wonder if that was because fat women are afraid to go to the doctor because they know they’ll be fat shamed. She had no discussion on that, just discussion on how black women needed to be educated on better food choices so that they and their children won’t be obese.

I have no problem in educating people on nutrition and helping them pay for groceries as one of her suggested programs discussed, but I do have a problem with only targeting fat people. Not all thin people understand healthy nutrition and not all fat people need to be educated. It is these assumptions that all fat people are lazy, stupid, ignorant, and in desperate need of a savior that make me feel both angry and full of despair at the same time. I have to give my presentation next week (about air quality), but I am honestly wondering how I am going to be able to do so in front of a group of people that can’t take me seriously because they find me to be both disgusting and an idiot. I have never felt so anxious in my life.