#trans kyle RIGHTS

[suppressiveperson]

happy pride gay people

[bunnyreaper]

shy fingies

im having a really bad dysphoria day

if possible can i have some trans masc reader/141 comfort? no pressure, im just havin a hard day bc i have medical issues that make a medical transition unsafe and my dysphoria is kicking my asssss

hi!! no need for shy fingies! the dysphoria has been coming too for me lately, so im sending my love your way!! if this sucks im sorry in advance!! ;__;

tf141 x trans male! reader, platonic. brief mentions of transphobia, protective!141, reader users a binder.

It had been a shitty day all round, and things only continued to get worse. 

The day had started with forcing yourself into the shower, in the pitch black darkness, because you just couldn't face it with the light on. Your chest felt tighter than usual, and your skin just felt distinctly not like home. 

When you'd made your way into the canteen for breakfast, the new recruits were staring again, clearly talking about you amongst themselves as they snickered and judged and whispered words and phrases you really never wanted to hear.

Your only salvation was that you were ending this shitty day with a movie night with your task force. 

"Lad!" Soap calls out to you as you enter the rec room with a bag of snacks in hand. "It's yer lucky day, you get ta pick the movie." 

Soap pats the couch beside him as Ghost, Gaz, and the Captain offer their usual smiles. 

"Uh, I'm not too fussed, you can pick." You offer Soap a forced, tight smile as you try your hardest to get comfortable, despite the constriction at your chest. Today it felt a little worse than usual. 

Gaz lets out a groan, as Ghost's eyes narrow. "He picked last week." 

Offering a shrug, you remember you need to grab a drink before you get too settled into the plush of the couch. When you approach the kitchenette, you notice Price beside you.  

"Everything alright, son?" He asks, his hand clasping down on your shoulder as he offers a soothing smile. "Not yourself tonight." 

Son. As the youngest in the taskforce, Price's sweet and affirming nickname for you makes your heart soar.

You struggle to meet his eye as you mumble your response--a clear lie. "I'm fine, just tired." 

Your captain doesn't seem convinced in the slightest, as he remains by your side as you move round the kitchenette. 

"Can always talk to me, you know that? Or any of the boys?" 

"I know." You sigh, knowing they'd be supportive even if they never can quite understand. 

Another body comes closer, joining in the concern party that Price is throwing. It's Gaz, the same look of worry plastered over his face.

"Something happened?" He asks. 

"No." You snap, just a little too quickly, and the entire room falls silent with Soap and Ghost's conversation ending as they turn their attention to you. "Oh god, can you all stop staring at me?!" 

Gaz's hand replaces Price's on your shoulder as he tries to soothe you. "Talk to us, c'mon." 

Ghost and Soap join you all in the kitchen, and the pressure of them all worrying about you is almost too much to handle. They all look so worried, so protective--though you'd long come to accept that it was mostly because you're the baby of the team. 

"The new recruits were talking shit about me behind my back, you know, that kind of shit." You sigh, staring at the floor and wishing it would swallow you whole. 

The atmosphere of the room changes in an instant. 

"I want names, now." Price's words are a demand laced with anger, though not a shred of it directed at you. 

"Captain..." You call out, as Price is already halfway to the door ready to pull the recruits out of bed and give them the dressing down of a lifetime. 

Soap shakes his head. "Easier if you just tell him, lad." Soap's eyes are kind and soft as he considers you, though you know that he will have some choice words for them too next time he's training them. You almost pity them. 

You mutter out the names of the ones you had recognised, and try not to flinch as Price nods and slams the door behind him as he leaves.

"How long have you had your binder on for?" Ghost asks, his gaze severe with concern. 

"Uh... since 6am." 

He sighs, in his 'not mad, just disappointed' older brother way. "Did you take a break at lunch like you're supposed to?" 

You give him a sarcastic look, and cross your arms over yourself defensively. "It'll be fine, promise." 

The door swings open, Soap coming back into the room with Gaz in tow, and you hadn't even realised they have left in the first place. 

Soap holds out a massive bundle of black fabric, while Gaz has a silky garment in his hands. 

"Biggest hoodie of mine I could find, lad, and a fresh compression shirt." Soap explains, as passes the clothes to you. "Binder off, yeah? Then we'll get under the blanket and turn off the lights." 

"And you still have to pick the movie." Gaz smiles.

You nod in compliance before you head to the bathroom to get changed--freeing yourself from the binder and quickly covering yourself with Gaz's shirt and Soap's hoodie. While your chest still aches just a little, the unease you expect doesn't come on as strong as you expected. 

Maybe it's the sense that you get to go back into that room with a group of guys who accept you for who you are and have never made you feel lesser. 

When you get back to the rec room, Price has returned, and the room is cast in darkness. The Captain gives you a nod, but offers no further comment--which means he won't be addressing it tonight. 

You get comfortable on the couch between Soap and Ghost, and try to ignore the groans as you make suggestion after suggestion that they all hate, and you eventually settle on something all of you have seen before. 

You snuggle under the blanket with Soap, and feel euphoric when Ghost wordlessly accepts your toes wiggling under his thigh. Every once in a while, you'll meet the eyes of your captain and see his fond gaze, or Gaz will look to you when there's something funny so he can see if you're laughing too. 

Right there, on that couch, you feel at home with your brothers, with yourself. 

[jasontoddssuper]

Robin!Duke:How are you even cooler under your mask?!

Selina:I'm this cool all the time

[lushloooser]

DC plz I’m begging you all I ask is a budget of one trillion dollars and health-insurance so I can afford my HRT refills I will write the most slayyyful big bitch pussy/girldick sloppy fucking HBO series ever put to streaming services

[b1tches-br0es-nonbinaryh0es]

It is so funny to me that people use South Park to back their transphobia because in the video game, The Fractured But Whole, you can beat up transphobes

[trans-broflovski]

transmasc kyle is so real

nothing can convince me otherwise

[peridotamethyst]

[mugwumpnoodles666]

Trans Kyle FTM

[space-hair]

real video of me almost becoming one of those ‘laughed themselves to death’ people over this

[cateyedfox36]

Hey! Heh Ryka Aoki. If you're going to write a book about how amazing donuts are (and aliens, demons, being trans and music but whatever) then you should include a coupon for donuts. So I can get some donuts. Bc I want donuts.

Also 3 books down for The Trans Rights Read-a-thon in one day.

To Bright to See by Kyle Lukoff was a short but intense middle reader about a kid named Bug who's having a crappy summer. They live in a haunted house that just got a lot more active, their beloved uncle died, middle schools starting in a few months, their moms business is struggling and their only friend is going full "girl mode" on them. On turns spooky, heartbreaking and sweet, I adored it. 5 stars!

Magical Boy vol 1 by The Kao. Holy fuck did I hurt everytime Max is dead named and misgendered. But this kid, his friends! They rock. Every kick in the gut you feel when his mom scolds him for not being girly enough (or at all since gd Max is a guy and gay and kind of a "It's clobberin' time' kinda dude) his friends are there to pump him up and affirm him. 5 stars!

Magical Boy vol 2 is the conclusion (Holy shit do we Stan a tight story that isn't bogged down w bs it sell more issues) we see the minions of Devoid getting bigger, bolder and parents are trying and ultimately get it right. And the lore! My friends, you will not be disappointed by the lore. Even if Max is a little Blaise about the whole thing. Another 5 stars!

[fatharia]

My silly characters go to a pride parade for six days!!! (4/6)

[cityofchapin]

"When They Look Right Through You" by Kyle "Guante" Tran Myhre

"When They Look Right Through You" by Kyle "Guante" Tran Myhre #NationalPoetryMonth #Poetry #Poem #ButtonPoetry

A friend of mine read Not a Lot of Reasons to Sing, But Enough by Kyle “Guante” Tran Myhre, and it reminded how much I love his work. I’ve used his poem “Consent at 10,000 Feet” to celebrate National Poetry Month 2020, the year I decided to embark on this endeavor. All roads led back to Button Poetry, it would seem. At least for me. When I first learned of the channel on YouTube, it introduced…

[cuubism]

I've written something very silly. Dating apps, texting fic, crack, smut. desire messing with dream. onlyfans creator hob. trans dream. Enjoy.

--

U up?

The notification from an unfamiliar app stared up at Dream from his locked phone screen. He frowned, perplexed. Nobody texted him. Certainly not with such vernacular.

Dream opened the notification. It pulled up the messaging page of a dating app, one he himself had certainly not installed—

Desire. He grit his teeth. Unfortunately, they weren’t nearby to receive his ire.

Dream looked again at U up? on the message interface. He clicked on the profile of the man who’d sent it, a “Kyle” who would not have looked out of place shotgunning a beer at a rager. Of course, Desire had not only gone to great lengths to establish him on this insipid app, but had also spent time matching him with the exact opposite of his type, presumably to cause him never-ending grief and annoyance. As usual.

Dream should probably have just deleted the app. Instead he responded, For?

What he received in response, a few minutes later, was a poorly-lit photograph of Kyle’s penis. Dream pinched his nose between thumb and forefinger with a sigh. He should have known.

I have seen better, he replied, and closed out of the app.

He had been back at his writing for ten minutes or so when his phone buzzed again. He checked the notification.

Brad: you could be MY good boy, kitty cat 😽

Dream gagged, but opened the man’s profile out of perilous, morbid curiosity.

Brad, 28, Hedge Fund Manager, “Looking for something casual on the DL”, likes golf and cryptocurrency— oh, dear. Somehow, Dream doubted this Brad truly wanted Dream to become a part of his life. Nor did Dream want to be his ‘kitty cat’.

He was going to have words with Desire.

You strike me as a man who brings choking into the bedroom without knowing what a safe word is, he wrote. Am I accurate?

I can choke you if you want, baby 😜, wrote Brad. Which may as well have been a yes.

Dream did not think that Brad was the person he wanted that from. Not to mention that his utter lack of kink safety knowledge would probably land Dream in hospital, and there were more interesting ways for that to happen than mediocre sex in a finance associate’s penthouse.

I would prefer to keep my brain cells, he wrote, and closed the app.

Over the next few days, Dream fielded many strange, annoying, and obscene messages from people on this app. He certainly had not “swiped right” on anybody himself, so he could only assumed Desire had done so on his behalf and had now left him to suffer the consequences of “matching.” By all rights, he should have just deleted the app off his phone. But Dream rarely communicated with anyone, certainly not strangers, and there was something a little bit entertaining about seeing what kind of drivel was being thrown his way. Was this how people attempted to court over the internet? Or perhaps Desire had merely “matched” him with the dregs of humanity.

By the end of the week, Dream had received seven “dick pics”, four offers to share one or more of his body parts in exchange for cash, and a request to become a seventy-five year-old man’s “sugar baby.” He was uncertain precisely what that entailed, but he was fairly certain he would not like it.

He had also received a text from Desire that read, enjoying yourself? ;) to which he did not respond.

His meager entertainment expended, Dream was on the verge of finally deleting the app when he received a different message:

Hob: Do you think it’s possible to cheat death by force of will, or are you too busy craving its sweet release to consider it?

Dream frowned, perplexed by the specificity of the message. Finally it occurred to him to actually look at the profile Desire had made. He swiped over to said screen, and sighed in aggravation.

Desire had, at least, chosen flattering photos of him. He supposed if the goal was to have Dream sexually harassed over the internet, this would have been a requirement. The photos definitely suggested something other than “serious, committed relationship”, but they weren’t terrible, at least.

As for the text—well, Dream finally understood where some of the more unhinged messages he had received had come from. He read through the given prompts, and Desire’s answers to them:

Dating me is like: You found a stray cat and brought it home and fed it and you were going to take it to the animal shelter but now it won't leave. It’s pretty cute if a bit mangy but it won’t stop biting your hand and mewing pathetically. The sex is pretty good tho.

“Pretty good.” Desire had written all this and couldn’t even manage to make Dream sound like a satisfying hookup. Typical.

He read on:

I’ll fall for you if: You tell me I’m a good boy 😳

Things were falling into place in Dream’s mind now.

Hob’s strange message seemed to arise from the main part of Dream’s profile, where Desire had listed his “religion” as “worshipping l’appel du vide.” An interesting element for this “Hob” to focus on. Dream did not think it was typical for messages on these apps to open with a discussion of death.

He switched back over to the messaging page of the app, and replied: I consider death often. As to your query, it depends: are you thinking of death as an entity one could escape, or a force like gravity? Or perhaps a place one must go?

Hmm, Hob responded, good question. I think it’s like a state. But a state of nothingness. See, if I thought it was a *place*, might be willing to go, see something new and all. But what’s the point of nothingness?

Nothingness is its own satisfaction, wrote Dream. It seemed peaceful, to him. Quiet. The lack of need for satisfaction in the first place.

But you won’t be there, so you won’t get to experience it, said Hob.

Precisely.

Huh. The void really is calling to you. You don’t like experience, then?

Is that innuendo? Dream asked.

Could be. If it is, do I get to be part of the toxic codependent relationship that ends horribly for everyone?

Another reference to Desire’s profile choices. What Dream was apparently “looking for in a relationship.”

That depends on the quality of your experience, he wrote.

I’ve received good reviews, said Hob.

You’ve yet to call me “kitten,” so I suppose I must concur on that front, replied Dream.

You started that one, little stray cat, said Hob.

Technically Desire had started it, but Dream had to grudgingly admit that his profile did invite such comments.

Having a smashing time in your dm’s, then? Hob continued.

I have received several unsolicited pictures of genitalia, wrote Dream.

Oh yeah? said Hob. Anything good?

Random strangers’ genitals did not interest Dream. There was a reason he did not watch porn. Mediocre at best, Dream said.

There was a long pause, and Dream hastily added, Do not send me a picture of your dick as comparison.

My dick is already all over the internet, you don’t need to get it here 😛, said Hob.

Dream blinked several times at his phone screen, as if to clear away a fog before a message that might make more sense.

What, he wrote.

Before Hob could reply, it occurred to Dream that perhaps he should actually look at Hob’s own profile. He had gotten too caught up in the strange conversation to remember to do so.

He opened it and— froze.

Dream had already deduced that Desire had intentionally matched him with whoever they thought Dream would be least interested in. He could see why they had thought the same of Hob, primarily because he was very different from Dream. In the past, Dream had tended to have flings with people who were rather like him, in some respects. “Tortured artists,” Death would say.

This was not Hob. For one, unlike Dream’s pouty and morose profile photo, Hob was actually smiling in the first picture on his page. And what a smile.

He was handsome, too. At least, Dream thought so. Handsome in a homey, comfortable way, the type of handsome that suggested really good hugs, and coffee in the mornings, and someone to come home to. Dream scrolled through more photos, and caught the spark of mischief in his eyes that belied his easy nature. This best matched the way Hob spoke in his messages, he thought.

It was not so much that Hob was his usual type, and more that Desire had unintentionally uncovered a type Dream had not known he had. He swallowed hard. Scrolled back up to read the details of Hob’s bio, in search of answers to the strangeness of Hob’s response.

Ah. His profession was listed as “OnlyFans creator.” That would explain it. He supposed he could track down Hob’s profile on said app. Dream was historically not very interested in porn, however. But he was finding himself interested in Hob.

He moved back to the messaging page, and wrote, before Hob could question why Dream was confused about information that was clearly stated in his profile, Ah. I see. I’m afraid I don’t watch porn.

That a moral stance? Bcuz I get enough of that already, trust me.

Personal taste, said Dream.

Prefer to get it in person, eh? said Hob.

Yes.

You’d do numbers on OnlyFans just fyi, Hob wrote. If u ever wanted more cash. Or does Poetry & Malaise pay better than I thought?

Dream’s “career,” according to Desire.

He supposed Hob's comment was flattering, in a way. Is that your own bias, Hob? Or your considered opinion as a professional?

Both ;), said Hob.

If that is your situation, then why are you on this app, dare I ask? Most people I have encountered seem to just be interested in sex but I doubt you are suffering from a dearth of it.

What, porn stars can’t want to get married? :(

Dream could imagine his pout. It was surprisingly endearing.

THAT is why you are here?

Sure, be judgmental about it, mister “I want to get consumed.” Or was that about vore and I misread it as metaphorical?

Dream spluttered, though Hob was not physically present to see it. Indeed, Desire had written that Dream wanted “someone he could consume and be consumed by in turn,” which was surprisingly accurate considering its intention had been to mess with him.

It is not VORE, he wrote. Then followed it up with, I have frequently been accused of being intense, possessive, and overbearing.

Well then we have that in common, Hob replied. By the way, sex for work is not the same as sex with someone you really care about. Or would you feel emotionally fulfilled after fucking your colleagues?

I don’t have colleagues, said Dream.

Right, right. Poetry and malaise.

And have you achieved much emotionally fulfilling sex from this app?

No :(, said Hob.

You are too handsome for that to be the case, wrote Dream, and realized what he had said a moment after he’d hit send.

He panicked internally until Hob replied, And here I thought I was just annoying you 🥰.

I might be having a crisis over your photos myself, Hob added, but let’s not discuss it or I’ll embarrass myself.

We could discuss it in a different venue, Dream wrote, heart in his throat. I am interested also in hearing your plans to thwart death. Perhaps over drinks?

Thought you’d never ask :)

So they set a time.

--

Drinks turned quickly into tumbling into Hob’s flat turned quickly into Hob pushing Dream up against the door and kissing him senseless turned quickly into falling into Hob’s bed. Dream was feeling quite happy about his decision to go on a date with this weird, death-obsessed OnlyFans creator. He had been right about Hob giving good hugs, he had learned that when Hob had greeted him at the bar. He had also learned that Hob really knew how to use his tongue.

“Fuck, Dream,” Hob said, looking up at him, lips wet. He had his hands wrapped around Dream’s thighs and his face between Dream’s legs, and yes, Dream was feeling very satisfied with his decision, indeed. He might even have to send Desire a gift basket. “You taste so good.”

“Your mouth is ungodly,” said Dream, tipping his head back against the pillow with a groan as Hob continued teasing him with that mouth, swiping his tongue through Dream’s folds and sucking on his clit.

“Converted you to a new religion? You’re done with the void, then?”

Dream twisted his hands in Hob’s hair, holding on tight, thighs trembling, heartbeat racing in his throat. “Perhaps.”

“Is Dream your real name, by the way?” Hob asked, pushing one finger into Dream, and then quickly two, as Dream moaned and clenched down on him. “I kind of thought it was fake.”

“No,” said Dream, though it came out as another moan. “It is real.”

“Fascinating.” And he went back to torturing Dream with his mouth, fucking him deep on his fingers, until Dream was squirming and writhing under him, trying to get away from Hob’s relentlessness even as he wanted to throw himself into its fire. He felt hot, feverish, taut all over, Hob’s hands were so good, and his mouth—

“Hob,” he whined, “please.”

Hob paused, looked up at him, lips and nose wet with Dream’s fluids. Then grinned cheekily. “Yes, kitten?”

And why did something that had sounded so revolting coming from anonymous strangers only make Dream laugh when Hob said it? He laughed, a horrible, choking laugh, and Hob laughed too, incredulously. Dream could not remember ever laughing during sex, it had always been a torrid and serious affair. But Hob was so charming and handsome and Dream wanted to kiss him.

“Come,” he commanded, drawing Hob up towards him by his hair, and Hob went, and Dream brought their lips together. Hob’s mouth was slick and tasted of Dream. It was heady.

Dream wrapped a leg around his waist and pulled him closer until their bodies were pressed together, and Hob ground his cock between Dream’s legs, between his folds and against his clit. He didn’t try to actually fuck Dream, though, which Dream figured was Hob’s professional good sense considering they hadn’t discussed birth control or anything in that vein in their haste. He imagined what might have happened if he had instead gone home with Brad of the un-negotiated choking kink, and laughed despite himself.

“What are you laughing at?” asked Hob, lifting his head to look at him. He really was so appealing, with his dark eyes, hair falling long over his forehead, his voice that was much more honey-warm than Dream could have imagined over text.

“I was thinking of the catastrophe that would have resulted had I slept with one of the questionable individuals I’ve encountered on that app, and my good fortune in finding you instead.”

Hob smiled, and kissed him, a proper first date type kiss, sweet and kind. Then he said, dragging his hand through Dream’s hair, tugging on it, “Don’t think about anyone else.” He kissed Dream’s jaw, then down his neck, nipping at his skin.

Dream dug his nails into Hob’s back, into his strong shoulders as Hob ground against him. He wished Hob was fucking him. His cock felt so good even just moving between Dream’s legs, and the weight of his body over Dream’s was so grounding. Next time, maybe.

He shivered as Hob moved faster over him, claimed his mouth with a hard kiss. “Come on me,” Dream urged, pulling Hob in tighter again with his leg wrapped around his waist. He reached between them and got his hand around Hob, and Hob groaned.

“Dream—”

Dream pulled him off in time with Hob’s own thrusts, and soon felt Hob’s hips stuttering, his grip tightening in Dream’s hair. He came over Dream’s hand and stomach, breathing hard against Dream’s throat. But he didn’t pause very long to recover himself, instead slipping three fingers back into Dream, making Dream arch against him with a shout.

“Hob!”

Hob worked him mercilessly until Dream was clenching around him with a gasp, body shaking as his orgasm ramped back up and hit him, fast and hard. Hob grinned against his throat as Dream panted, then gently pulled his fingers free and raised his head to look Dream in the eye as he brought them to his mouth and sucked them clean of Dream’s spend. Fucking. Hell. And this man couldn’t find someone to marry him?

Hob kissed him again, and again it was sweet, and firm, like his hugs. Dream kissed him back, petting Hob’s hair. Pleased with the position he’d found himself in. Pleased with Hob.

“Good?” Hob asked, stroking a hand up and down his side.

“Very,” Dream sighed.

“Good,” said Hob. “For me, too.”

He kissed Dream’s cheek, and then went and got a soft wet cloth to clean them both up, and even brought Dream a glass of water. Truly Dream’s good fortune was unparalleled on this day.

Hob slipped back into bed beside him, and Dream laid on his side, head pillowed on his arm, gazing at him. Tucked an errant strand of Hob’s hair behind his ear. Ran his fingers over the stubble on Hob’s cheek. He really was quite handsome, especially mussed from sex, in the low bedroom light. Perhaps Dream was going to have to find his OnlyFans. Just so he could… take this home with him.

“You really are even prettier in person,” Hob murmured, studying him. “Although I don’t think the rest of your profile was really doing you justice.”

“That is because my sibling initially created it to annoy me,” Dream admitted. “However, I think I am the one who’s come out on top in the end.”

“That does explain some things,” Hob said with a chuckle. He took Dream’s hand and kissed his fingertips, met his eyes again. “I promise I won’t break your heart. If you stay.”

My BFF’s take on why you should date me, Desire’s profile fills had read: With luck you can be the next person to break his heart <3

Once again, it had not been entirely inaccurate. But perhaps it would be this time.

“I think I am inclined to,” he said quietly, and Hob smiled, that warm, endearing smile.

So Dream did stay that night, cuddled up in Hob’s arms. Feeling all warm inside, even when Hob had fallen asleep, and Dream was still awake, lying beside him. He often had a hard time sleeping, but he didn’t mind so much, right now. Hob was pleasant to cuddle up to, even if Dream couldn’t sleep. Hob was pleasant all around, in fact. Dream tended to fall fast and hard and he could already feel it hovering over him like a cresting wave. Fortunately, Hob didn’t seem inclined to be any more casual about him than Dream was feeling about him.

Dream thought he could get used to this.

With Hob’s arm still wrapped around his waist, Dream swiped his phone off the nightstand and opened his text thread with Desire, which still had enjoying yourself? ;) as the last message, as yet not responded to.

Having made Desire wait for several days already, Dream wrote, with a little smile, I think I am going to get married, and turned off his phone.

[syoddeye]

reading recs

received an anon the other day that requested fic recs of all ratings, here's a big list of some of my favorites! definitely not exhaustive, definitely forgot people, and i am so sorry in advance for that. please mind the tags on these fics.

SNAFU by @adnauseum11

I've posted about SNAFU before. This is one of my comfort series. Excellent characterization of a retired John Price, navigating a relationship with one of his oldest friends.

Heavy Weighs the Crown by @sentientcave

Newer series, very yummy so far. I love Charlie's characterization of the 141 in this universe, and their writing is delectable.

Rugby AU by @sentientcave

Another banger from Charlie. Reader Ripper is also yummy. Something to snack on. To quote: "I don't know anything about Rugby tbh this is just vibes and thots. Something somethin elaborate rituals."

Nobody by @391780

My gateway fic into Nikto. Without giving anything away, every chapter sends me into a short spiral. The most recent chapters have done heinous (affectionate) things to my brain.

Ursa Major by @the-californicationist

Have you ever been to Alaska? Ever wanted to visit? Honestly, read this fic and let Cali transport you there. Her ability to set the scene and bring it to life is un-fucking-matched. Doc (Reader) is a smart, confident reader-insert that feels like a real person.

Binders and Boyfriends by @pfhwrittes

Trans 141 and Trans Reader supremacy. Another comfort series from the wonderful Parker. Everything listed here is wonderful, but I have a major soft spot for P's Gaz-centric works.

Housemate!Gaz by @pfhwrittes

First, in this house, we hate Reader's roommate. Second, we are Widget fans. Third, could you fucking imagine opening the door and your new roommate was Kyle motherfucking Garrick? I'd faint.

Call of The Jurassic by @stuffireadandenjoy

Another newer series that put me on the edge of my seat. When I first saw that Tats was giving us my favorite fellas and putting them in Jurassic Park, ooooooh, I knew we were going to be spoiled rotten.

Wrong Number Right Day by @stuffireadandenjoy

"Kyle gets a wrong number text but decides to be a little generous that day." Reader's living the dream. Text Kyle Garrick and get cash money for rent? Very excited for more of this.

Price of Pegging by @gemmahale

Pegging and John Price. I could stop there, but I won't. Gemma nails the depiction of a submissive Captain Price. She also captures the dynamic of a couple trying something new extremely well, that gave me some fluffy feelings.

All of Gemma’s WIPs by @gemmahale

I've had the absolute privilege to read some previews of Gemma's work and the WORK and the DETAIL and the CHARACTERS are chef's kiss. Delicious. It's so difficult to pick just one. I love the Feywilds. Useful Girl. Call of the Wild. Do yourself a favor and spend some time in the tags.

Offer Me His Hunger by @kaadaaan

Something about a 141-er and a single mom that's gonna do it for me every time. In Offer Me His Hunger, it's Johnny, and Reader has no idea what she's in for. Jesus Christ, Kadan writes one of my favorite Johnnys, and really nails that obsessive and calculating streak.

The Space in Between by @391780

You will laugh, you will cry, you will love and hate mafia boss!John Price. Reader crosses paths with John and the 141, and gets caught in their wake. Early writes some of the best Reader characters of all time, and this one's no different. This story will get under your skin so fast, in the best way.

The Arrangement by @391780

Speaking of Early, this is THE gateway drug to her work, in my humble opinion. One of the first COD fics I ever read and converted me into being a Price girlie. Sugar Daddy Price x a cute, smart, and fucking funny Reader. Also one of my favorite characterizations of Simon of all time.

Club 141 by @greatstormcat

BDSM and the 141 make a Sy very happy. Reader starts off with a fake ass dom and is quickly properly introduced to BDSM culture with the fellas. Really solid group dynamics. Make sure you read that Price x Ghost post for a good fucking time.

Lamb to the Slaughter by @ohbo-ohno

Probably one of my favorite Ghoap fics of all time. The way my jaw was on the floor for the majority of this should've sent me to the emergency room. It's brutal, it's horrifying, and fuck me running, I loved it, start to finish.

The Pit by @peachesofteal

First, the nightmare of getting into an accident in the winter. Second, having Ghost and Soap find you. Oh boy, The Pit is peak Ghoap manipulation. When I got to the end, I just sat in silence. Stunned. It was amazing.

Eyes Wide, Tongue Tied by tippytulip (if you're on here, pls lmk!)

Another early COD fic for me. A thrill ride with a whip-smart Reader AND it's set in the Midwest. Those are two ways into my heart. The relationship between Reader and Price isn't an easy one, and he gives her a dozen and a half reasons to dislike him. Another ride of a fic, with great action scenes and group dynamics.

Trapper, Keeper by @tinypandacakes

A König fic that makes me screech no less than ten times per chapter. Panda writes a fucking scary König and it blows my mind. So much of it is subtle and manipulative, with few outright (so far, it's ongoing!) examples. I get a knot in my stomach every time I read and I LOVE IT.

DOG by Danceofthesevenveils

Another König fic that features a pathetic loser König, who is also one of the scariest motherfuckers I've ever read. The use of text messages underscores the creepy vibes, and a great vehicle for the Reader x König dynamic early on.

Desire Paths by @ceilidho

Manipulative best friend Johnny, you are iconic to me. Ceilidh writes some of the best nasty Johnny fic out there, but Desire Paths has my heart. Another ending that had me gasping.

Take Me Home, Country Road by @ceilidho

Cowboy Price, take me awayyyyyy. A fantastic Western AU focused on a Reader with a secret and a Sheriff Price that'll make you sit up straighter. Ceilidh captures John's voice so clearly, I can hear it when I read. That porch scene is seared into my brain in the best way.

Tender is the Flesh by @crashtestbunny

Do you like scary Simon? Do you like feeling unsettling and turned on? *slams table* Do I have the fic for you! Connie's butcher!Simon makes my blood run both hot and cold. "Oh she’s a stunner." lives in my head rent free. Also the apron tie bit.

Pornstar!AU by @shotmrmiller

Warning, if you don't smoke, you might start after reading Toni's porn AU. I love this depiction of Ghost, his control and his care. AND there's a threesome bit with Ghost x Reader x Price. It's what dreams are made of.

[trans-broflovski]

In my blue hair and pronouns emo era ✌

[mitoad]

giggling ab this okay so

imagine gaz n reader, they've just started to date

and reader is trans (ftm) but gaz doesn't know that yet

but then after a few weeks of dating reader is taking their T in the bathroom/bedroom and had forgotten to lock the door & gaz walks in oh no,,

YEAH so!!! i hope that's enough to.. you know. yeah!!!! i 💗 ur fics sm.

(we need more ftm fics RIGHT NOW!!)

whoEVER ANON IS . I LOVE U . Thank u so so so so much 4 this request my fingers have been acting to write m or ftm content u have appealed to my deepest desires . myways this rq is super silly i love chilled out gay mf and nervous closeted trans mf dynamic so much. 

Also posted on trans visibility day lets GOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!

the same (always changing); kyle 'gaz' garrick + trans male! reader (979 words)

notes: some implied and described internalised transphobia, mentions of transphobia, mentions of gender dysphoria, reader does not have top surgery yet, partial nudity on reader (non-sexual), little hurt/comfort type w/ fluff at the end !!

-

It wasn’t meant to be a secret. It really wasn't.

But here you are, cooped up in the cold premise of your shared bathroom, waiting for the gel to dry into your skin as you stare at your figure in the mirror, noticing the little changes with a strange sense of europhia. You wished you could run back to the arms of your boyfriend as you ramble about how good the hormones have been working, how you can see your outer shell peeling open to show the man who's been living in the inside, a feedback loop that had you seeing yourself in reflections instead of skin and hair and face that you'd barely recognised. Maybe his face would melt into that gorgeous smile, arms pulling you closer to him like he's seeping off the happiness he swears he sees seeping off your skin's pores. But it's the flip of a coin, a winning ticket in an uncertain lottery.

you're not so sure if Kyle would love the kind of person you were.

gender hadn't ever been a point of focus in your conversations, never something that had to be caught and pinned down with word or thought. he was a man, you were a man, and you loved each other. both of you did your best to keep it at that simplicity. but part of you, like the serpent to adam and eve, had always doubted whether kyle would look at you with the same eyes if you somehow ended up showing him your childhood photos or now-invalid passport, the face that was still soaked with dysphoria-ridden tears. 

the gel is still sticking to your ribs when the door practically flies off its hinges slamming against concrete walls and gaping open your closed eyes with ugly sound. There's a groan of exasperation that should make you giggle, but only makes already tense muscles almost turn to stone. "honey, you done ? really need to take a fat shi-" 

And then there's that silence both unsurprising but dreaded, how it felt to inhale smoke. 

You hate the shock as his eyes run over your bare chest in realisation, feeling any words about to come out crawling back into your windpipe as he notices the thin layer of gel and the label of the bottle on the sink. 

"love?" he calls, an endearing substitute replacing your name. you didn’t know if he'd call you that, even after this revelation. Or did he not know what else to call you now that this had been revealed ? "kyle," you echo. 

please just look at me, kyle. 

his eyes still look the same as how they look at you; stormclouds that accompany you on lonely and rainy nights, and your eyes can't help on focus on the pretty shade of grey instead of the battering of water droplets hitting against tin. Not once  does it ever shift to malice or hatred- only worry, for you, maybe. 

"do you want to talk about it right now ?" isn't the response that you expected. It's an gentle offer, and extended hand waiting for you to take or push away, more freeing than astute observations of your perceived identity or the bitter words hissed out when others had realised. You can only nod your head in response. 

"im sorry," you say, and you don’t know how much (what you're) apologising for. Sorry for never telling you. Sorry for making a distance that could have been avoided. Sorry for being this without your permission, anyone else's permission. 

but he's quick to hold you and the shame that you carry , not minding any of the gel residue on his shirt. "hey, no, it's okay," his voice is gentle, reaching out for your secluded self. "remember what I told you when we first started dating?" he puts a hand to your head, playing with your hair as he pulls you closer to him. "I love all of you, dove. Everything." he rests his chin onto your shoulder, murmuring the words into your ear. And you can't help but hug back, clinging to him like a lifeline. Your lifeline. "I love you too," you muse.

you both stay there for a minute before he pulls away with a complaint of some back pain from a recent mission, and you kiss his nose, allowing yourself to smile for the first time since he'd entered the room. "so.." you start, now perched on the rim of the bathtub. "you're ok with me being trans?"

you giggle when he deadpans at you, "love, I just hugged you for 5 full minutes after seeing you apply testosterone instead of taking a shit. I don’t really care if you're trans." 

and after your testosterone dries and you put on your shirt, you both in bed, tangled up in each other's arms. ramblings about little stories or town gossip. professions of grandiose love guised under quiet murmurs. the hormones are still a little crusty on your skin, but they're doing the work that should have been done since birth. 

The same, always changing.