#and in ftm he just speaks in a way that has really cute and nice and positive energy

[bleedingoptimism]

𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚

part 3 (NSFW | FtM Steve + Vampire Eddie)

As Eddie lets himself be dragged by Sunshine through the room he catches Jeff from the corner of his eye giving him a big thumbs up and smiles back, unbelieving of his luck.

Out of curiosity, he looks over at The Boss and Sparrow, who are looking at them intently. Sparrow is glaring at him, again. What is up with her?

He sees as The Boss takes Sparrow’s hand and kisses it, telling her something Eddie can’t hear but looks awfully like ‘he’s gonna be okay’ and the frown on Sparrow’s face instantly melts away as she nods.  

He has a second to wonder what the hell was that about before he’s rudely interrupted by Freak, the big bouncer guy, once more crushing face-first into his chest.

They are at the entrance of a hallway that leads to some stairs and Sunshine doesn't seem to notice Eddie’s been stopped until his hand slips out of his.

He turns around and chuckles at Freak and Eddie just staring at each other.

“He’s with me, Freak” Sunshine says, just like Jeff had at the beginning of the night. Only this time Freak is a little reluctant.

“Aren’t you a lucky one?” He asks Eddie, raising an eyebrow, and Eddie has to resist the urge to talk shit back at him. He doesn't want to be kicked out, not now. Not when he’s so close.

Sunshine scoffs and moves to push Freak out of the way, but he also leans in and kisses his cheek, “Be nice, baby” he coos at him and Eddie gets to witness in real time a big-ass grown man melt into a fucking puddle at their feet.

And he can’t really blame him.

The softness doesn’t last long, however. Because as he’s moving past Freak to follow Sunshine, the bouncer stops him again and he speaks to Sunshine, keeping his eyes fixed on Eddie the whole time, “I’ll be right down here if you need me, ok?”

“Ok, baby!” Sunshine answers back, barely paying attention as he takes Eddie’s hand again and takes them upstairs.

They move through a hallway lined with doors on both sides to a second hallway that’s a little more secluded and only has four doors, farther between them. Sunshine gets a key from an inside pocket of his jacket and they enter one of the rooms.

Once inside he lets go of Eddie’s hand and moves to lock the door while Eddie looks around, the place doesn't look like a motel room or hotel or anything like it.

It looks just like someone’s room. Like an ordinary, lived-in, comfy-looking room. And it’s full of stuff. There’re books littered all over a desk and a bookshelf with even more books, but mostly filled with table games.

The bed is unmade, and huge, looks like an antique too, all the furniture does which makes the table games, books, and the fucking basketball and the training weights under the desk chair look surreal. Eddie walks around the room, taps the dresser with his knuckles as he passes by, looking at what’s on top of it. There’re hair and skin care products, a soft-looking brush he resists the urge to grab and try, a small black kit with the words ‘self-made’ in bright pink stitched into it. 

And… There’s a fucking copy of the Dungeons Master’s guide on the desk. He moves towards it and grabs it, looking back at Sunshine who’s just been standing by the door, letting him roam around until now, with a huge smile on his face.

Sunshine chuckles, “That’s not even mine,” he mutters and then lifts an eyebrow at him, “Is that what you want to do while we’re here?” he asks him, cocking his head to the side cutely. Meanly, actually. It’s fucking sexy as hell. 

Lost for words Eddie shakes his head no and Sunshine giggles and it’s the best thing he’s ever heard in his entire life. He feels himself salivating at the thought of tasting everything about Sunshine, even his sounds.

“Why don’t you make yourself at home. I’m gonna slip into something a little more comfortable,” he tells Eddie and then moves to a door on the side that he hadn’t even noticed was there.

That phrase leaves him feeling a little dizzy, all his blood rushing down south. What the fuck, he’s pretty sure he’s heard pornos start that way before. He just sits at the bottom of the bed and lets his mind wonder about what that even means, imagining Sunshine walking out of the vanity wearing a robe with nothing underneath, like in the movies. Or a cute lingerie set with matching colors, or black lace panties and a garter belt. Shit! Maybe comfortable means wearing nothing at all…

And then the door opens and Sunshine walks out… barefoot and wearing a pair of pastel peach sweatpants and a black crop top. And it’s somehow worse than anything Eddie was picturing, or better, actually. Because Sunshine really just wanted to be comfortable with him. And he looks so cozy and soft and warm and fucking beautiful. The sweatpants rest low on his hips, and the crop top reaches just below his belly button, leaving the bones of his hips, his lean stomach, his happy trail, and so many, many moles on display.

Eddie makes grabby hands at him and Sunshine laughs and shakes his head but starts walking towards him, “You didn’t even take your jacket off,” he comments.

“Oh,” Eddie replies eloquently and just sits there as Sunshine steps between his legs and stands in front of him.

“May I?” He asks him, hovering his hands over Eddie’s shoulders. He nods and Sunshine just smiles sweetly at him, and doesn't move until Eddie swallows and says, 

“Yes, please.”

Then Sunshine grabs him by the shoulders of the jacket and slowly starts pulling it down his arms and off him. Shit. He’s never been undressed like this before, so tenderly. He feels completely disarmed.

Once the jacket is off, Sunshine throws it over his shoulder where it falls neatly over a loveseat in the corner of the room.

Eddie smirks, “Nice,” and Sunshine cocks his head to the side confused, and looks back not knowing what Eddie’s referring to, before laughing sweetly when he sees where the jacket landed.

“Let’s pretend I did that on purpose,” He jokes smiling at Eddie and he has to bite his own lips to stop himself from whimpering at the sight of Sunshine, standing between his legs and looking down at him with that smile.

“So…” Sunshine drawls, as his fingers walk along Eddie’s shoulders and pick at the collar of his shirt, “What would you like to do?” he asks.

Everything.

Anything.

Everything.

“Can I touch you?” It’s what Eddie settles with. 

He’s not expecting Sunshine to blush bright red and blink at him, so sure of himself as he seemed. But he does, and he looks delicious.

“Yeah, yes,” he whispers and lets his hands rest on Eddie’s shoulders, offering himself to Eddie’s hands.

So Eddie takes. He lifts his hands and starts slow, barely pressing, caressing the soft skin on Sunshine’s hips. Sees the trails of goosebumps his fingers leave in their wake.

He presses his palms to the warm skin of his sides and splays his fingers wide to encompass as much as he can and then pulls Sunshine gently closer before pressing his face against his stomach and taking a deep breath.

He does fucking smell like the warmth of the sun on a field full of flowers, the motherfucker. 

It’s the best thing he’s ever experienced, it’s addicting. It’s scary.

He feels Sunshine gasp as he ghosts his lips over his stomach and keeps moving his fingers, exploring, feeling the muscles move under his fingertips, the soft hair of his happy trail, following it up where it almost disappears completely before coming back with a vengeance just below his pecs. 

Sunshine’s breathing gets faster and a little louder as Eddie keeps kissing his abs and whatever part of him he can reach as his hands drift further up, fingers stroking over the scars that follow the outline of muscles and are adorned with chest hair. He keeps going, follows the lines of ribs, and goes to his back, goes up and down his spine, pulling him a little bit closer and kissing just below his sternum.

The hands on Eddie’s shoulders are shaking now, and Sunshine lets out a whimper that seems to surprise even himself, his fingers flexing and twisting the fabric of Eddie’s shirt.

“Strid- I-” He starts but stops and just moans instead. And Eddie gets it. It feels weird not hearing his name come out of those beautiful lips between the whimpers and sounds he’s getting out of him. He wants to hear his name, whispered, moaned, screamed by Sunshine. Fuck he wants to know Sunshine’s name.

“You smell so good, you taste so sweet, you feel so soft,” Eddie tells him, standing up and pushing the crop top up over his torso and off of him. 

He takes a moment to just look at him, they’re almost the same height, Sunshine maybe a hair taller than him. And Eddie lets his eyes dance from head to toe appreciatively, taking in how wonderfully debauched he looks. All muscle and hair and soft skin covered in freckles, flushed and hot and just so fucking-

“You are so beautiful.” 

Sunshine’s eyes light up and he huffs and combs his fingers through a lock of Eddie’s hair and looks at it instead of him. He seems overwhelmed so Eddie lets him have a moment, hides his face on Sunshine’s neck, and stays there a second, breathing him in, and kissing him softly.

The whole ‘Never took anyone upstairs before’ makes a little more sense now and it makes Eddie feel overwhelmed himself to know how truly fucking special it is to be in here alone with him.

He noses the strong line of Sunshine’s jaw and down his neck, eyes almost rolling to the back of his head just from his scent. He kisses and nips lightly from tendon to shoulder and back again as Sunshine wraps his arms around his neck and clings to him, one of his legs going up Eddie’s side like he’s trying to climb him. Like he needs to be closer.

Eddie wraps his hands around his waist and lifts him up an inch before sitting back down on the bed with Sunshine sitting on top of him, knees on either side of his legs.

He immediately dives back to Sunshine's neck because he can’t get enough of him, he can feel his teeth sharpening and he lets Sunshine feel them too. The moan and slow thrust of his hips are pretty fucking encouraging but Eddie wants this to last, can’t get to the main dish yet.

His hands go back to feeling every vertebra on Sunshine’s spine as Sunshine's slow thrusts start a rhythm that pairs wonderfully with the small musical gasps and moans he lets out.

He’s so fucking responsive, it’s driving Eddie completely insane. Sunshine is the most beautiful, sensual, perfect man he’s ever had the pleasure of experiencing, because he’s a fucking experience. And he’s never been so hard in his life, it’s almost too painful and he feels, he just knows, he’s going to come embarrassingly fast and probably before they even get their pants down and he honestly couldn’t care less right now.

Feeling like he’s about to overheat, Eddie leans back just enough to take his shirt off and he’s about to embrace the shivering angel on his lap again when Sunshine places his hands on Eddie’s chest. 

Eddie looks at him but Sunshine is staring somewhere below his neck and then down his chest and all over his torso. His hands move, touch him reverently and look at him as if Eddie was worth a shit. It makes his chest hurt, the way Sunshine looks at him.

He lets Sunshine caress his skin, trace his tattoos, and circle his nipples, flicking one of the piercings before cupping his peck, which makes Eddie chuckle getting a cute smile in return before Sunshine dives in and starts kissing Eddie’s neck, nipping, and licking like he’s the one who is actually hungry, like he’s the one who needs blood.

Eddie moves his hands to Sunshine’s waist and holds it strongly, fingers digging into the meat with purpose and encouraging the delicious rhythm of his hips to start anew. 

Both of them are breathing hard now, and Eddie grabs the waistband of Sunshines sweatpants and pulls them up, lifting him a little with the force of it, making him gasp and keen and then moves him and places him more firmly over his left thigh, so he can properly grind against him, use him to get off. 

Sunshine keeps moaning, breathless, “Ah, ah, ahs” he buries into Eddie’s hair where he’s grabbing and pulling at it. And Eddie places his leg more firmly on the floor and lifts his ankle a little, giving him more friction, actively holding Sunshine's waist and directing his movements as he fucks his thigh unrelentingly.

Sunshine’s knee is giving Eddie all the stimulation he needs right now. He’s close and he knows Sunshine is close too. He can feel it.

After a particularly hard thrust, Sunshine lifts his head upwards and gasps loudly like he’s coming out of the water for air. Eddie takes advantage of the angle and goes for his neck, returning the sweet kisses and licks but when he bites him back, he bites more meaningfully.

He groans with his teeth touching that beautiful skin almost hard enough to break it, questioning.

And Sunshine, with his hands still buried in Eddie’s hair pulls at it and pushes him closer to him,

“Yes, yes, do it. Taste me. Take me,” he chants.

And Eddie finally bites him and God. It’s delicious, indescribable, he’s never tasted anything like it.

Sunshine moans loudly as he comes and Eddie growls, his eyes going to the back of his head, his mouth full of blood, his senses full of Sunshine. The taste, the smell, the feeling of knowing Sunshine used him to satisfy himself, got off on him. It hits him like a train, and he comes too, and he can’t even bring himself to be embarrassed from coming completely untouched.

The only thought in his head is:

Jeff was right. Sunshine does tastes like fucking orgasms.

He licks and kisses and mouths at where he bit him until the wound closes, the only evidence it happened is the big purple hickey left in its place and Sunshine leans on him, slowly getting his breathing back to normal.

He doesn't want to let go of him, Eddie thinks, and he unconsciously wraps his arms around his waist and holds him close.

But Sunshine isn't moving either, his arms are around Eddie’s neck, his body still occasionally shivering and he’s humming, sighing, moaning, making all kinds of cute, soft little sounds.

Fuck. He really doesn’t want to leave him.

He didn’t even get to see him completely naked. All that golden skin and moles and hair. He wants that, he wants to touch him. To taste the heat he felt on his thigh, see how wet he got, bite him all over.

It occurs to Eddie that he doesn’t even know his name and his heart breaks a little. He doesn’t even know what music he likes, or what his favorite food is. Fuck. He just wants to know his favorite color.

He’s completely fucked.

Desperate to do something before he just starts weeping, he sighs and leans back a little to look at Sunshine’s face,

“So what do you want to do now?”

Sunshine’s eyes go big and then a little sad and he bites his lips and Eddie shakes his head, backtracking a little,

“I’m not trying to get you to kick me out just so you know. I would actually love to stay,” he tells him and smiles gratefully when a small smirk appears on Sunshine’s lips. “I just wanna do whatever you want to do now,” he finishes.

“I want to kiss you,” Sunshine says, with no preamble, no hesitation, and a little desperate.

And that’s how Eddie kisses him, desperately, passionately and so fucking deep.

And after what’s definitely the best kiss of his life, Sunshine leans away and then back in to press their foreheads together and says, 

“Steve. My name is Steve.” 

“I’m Eddie.”

𝙚𝙣𝙙

part 1: 🍷

part 2: 👄

part 3: you are here

bonus content: ☀️

ao3: 🌙

art: 🦇

coffee?☕🥐💕

#stranger things #steddie #vampire eddie munson #steve harrington #i wrote something #well boys we did it! i hope you like this <3 #i wanted something real sexy but i think i made it too romantic lol #they are soulmates ok

[smallestapplin]

I'm gonna have to go find the Adaman x nonbinary masc reader x Volo one damn lol. I'm really happy to see that you do write any gender reader =D Ok though, my actual request lol. So preferably Guzma and/or Piers finding out that the cute, polite and quiet masc librarian moonlights as a loud and lewd (and clearly out of the closet) rock star. If there are any other characters you wanna write for with this prompt I thoroughly encourage! -FTM Anon

Finally, I get to be gay and do crime.

Reader is male!

🔞18+🔞 for lewd language!

-

-

💀Guzma💀

- probably has never bothered you aside from one time.

- He thought, from what he assumed, the shy polite librarian would be an easy target to bully.

- But he was wrong, your Pokémon are stronger than he thought.

- But it made him respect you, especially with how you didn’t insult him, just thanked him for the battle and went right back to work.

- He found you adorable anyways, he kinda pictures protecting you with how cute you look.

- Never thought he had a chance though, sure you’re a book nerd but that doesn’t mean you’d go for a guy like Guzma, or another guy in general.

- So imagine his surprise when he sees you in such a setting. He almost didn’t recognize you.

- The sweet cute librarian, who speaks in such a mellow and calm voice. Screaming at the top of his lungs about some of the raunchiest things he’s ever heard.

- You were singing your heart out on that stage about getting railed by another man and the crowd is thriving off it.

- Guzma takes it all in, from the outfit, your words, and your act, it makes it clear to him he does have a shot.

- So the next time he is by your library he lays it down thick.

- It was a slow down and you were just happily putting books away when he suddenly appeared pinning you against the book shelf.

- “And to think I thought you were shy and cute!”

- “I-I’m sorry?”

- “That little rockstar ‘sona of yours was a delight to see.” Guzma laughs at your flushed face.

- “Now tell me, I gotta shot at givin you a wild ride?”

- You stammer and stutter over words, not at all expecting this, a full minute of this before you can get out a squeaky “yeah sure.”

- “It’s a date then! Pick ya up after your shift.”

- You can only sink to the ground after he leaves.

- this is it, this is how you go.

🎸Piers🎸

- Piers has met you a few times at the library you work at. He use to go there all the time for books for Marine.

- And while he shows up less he also kinda had a crush on you.

- You run that library. And you dress in such a cute way fitting for a librarian. If you wear reading glasses and look up at him over them he melts.

- You’re such a soothing person to just exist around, and it’s nice. It’s different from his usual life style on stage.

- Your voice is even and you’re so kind to him when he walks in.

- He is stunned at the turn of events.

- The usual sweet, mellow toned librarian, who seems like he’d never yell a day in his life or flush at such lewd topics.

- Belting out possibly the lewdest and rock song about riding a man.

- Piers can’t take it, his brain is melting and face burning bright red the more you sing.

- It doesn’t help he loves your voice is perfect to him.

- The rockstar wanted to stay and watch but he was getting hot under the collar and had to leave to cool down.

- And when he saw you again, in your sweet librarian outfit and calm voice, welcoming him in.

- But he is acting so off.

- “I apologize if I overstep, but are you alright sir?”

- Oh he could hardly look at you without blushing. But he knew a bit more about you now! Maybe he can take Marnie’s advice now.

- “Sorry I just…uh…”

- “Piers, sir? Are you feeling okay?”

- “Yeah, yeah, I just…do you want to go out for a coffee sometime?” Piers spoke quickly, eyes locked onto the wall behind you.

- He feels himself melt and his heart break at your cute laugh.

- “I’d love to, my shift ends at six if that works.”

- He haphazardly writes down his phone number and gives it to you.

- “Great! See ya then.”

- He goes home and screams in his at home studio.

- TWO ROCKSTARS GET TOGETHER-

#pokemon #pokemon imagines #pokemon x reader #pokémon #pokemon fanfic #pokemon piers #pokemon guzma #pokemon piers x reader #pokemon guzma x reader #Pokémon x male reader #other

[mfmango]

fun mango fact I live laugh love ej x liu and I wanna make art of them so fucking bad but I have like. Severe art block and I DONT like it.

they're just so cute and it's like ejekshahsn it's even better if you know about or I've told u my ver of creepypasta chars/my au

I'm gonna infodump while I'm at it

my ver of ej is nigerian/russian (russian from chernobog, his father of sorts, his mother was just a nice Nigerian woman lmao) and he's like. 27, he's also like 7 feet fucking tall lmfao did most of med school and his medical knowledge is like rlly good n shit, he's really caring especially when it comes to liu and he's also really protective. He has locs, dark brown and he puts jewellery in them sometimes

he has dark grey skin and full lips, the top one being a darker grey, (skin color is #45413F, top lip is #302D2C and bottom lip is a combo of top lip and #403230) he's also like extremely muscular. he spends a lot of time working out and he has really good stamina (this is both a win for liu and a loss. iykyk)

He's very warm and he has a deep voice, not like corpse husband deep but like. He sounds like MC Ren (the N.W.A member) but a little deeper

liu is like the complete opposite of Jack in my au. He's skinny as shit and before he met Jack his ribcage was dead ass showing, after he met Jack and started eating a bit more he gained a small amount of weight, but was still kinda underweight, my version of Liu is ftm btw, hasn't physically transitioned apart from hormones

he's also like 5'7

Liu's like. 22, he has a few scars on his face and all over his body, and he has pretty severe eye bags but that doesn't mean he ain't pretty. mf looks like a dream.

he makes money by helping jeff deal and shit

liu (and jeff) is/are polish. Very polish might I add

Jack speaks both Russian and Yoruba (a bit of igbo/ndi igbo, he picked it up from another Nigerian friend in highschool before the chernobog genes kicked in)

so if liu swears at Jack in polish, Jack will respond in Russian and they'll still understand what eachother is saying cause a lot of slavic languages are similar

their height difference goes hard as fuck though LMFAOO

jack is like rlly good at cooking but he prefers liu's cooking, they're both good tho

Jack doesn't let ANYONE touch his locs (jeff tried once when he was high lol bro almost got his hands cut off) except liu, but he's still careful lol

lius kind of blunt and a bit monotone at times, Jack doesn't mind much tho

they're not perfect, they can be a bit toxic at times, jack holds more power in the relationship but it works in their situation

Jack has a tendency to like. hold liu and cuddle him and tell him how he'd do anything to see him smile etc etc

they're killers, they're freaks they're not gonna have a perfectly happy relationship, no relationship is perfect

also they don't live in the slendermansion or whatever lol

Jack used to but he moved in w Liu and lius been living in this like. lowk luxurious cabin in the forest lol

lius a bit scared of heights, Jack still picks him up for the hell of it

liu wears a lot of Jack's clothes for the sake of comfort, jack carries things that belong to liu , like pens or photos of him whenever he's out on a mission (he does assassin stuff), regardless of if he's gone for a short time or a while

jack brings stuff home. it could be books, notebooks/sketchbooks, food, etc.

liu doesn't go out much. he likes staying at home, he can go out in public safely for the most of it, he only ever goes out into towns for groceries or emergencies

jack cannot keep his hands off liu lmao, he has to be holding onto him one way or another

if u managed to read this whole thing just be my mutual already

#eyeless jack x homicidal liu #homicidal liu x eyeless jack #its 3am #ej x liu #jack x liu #jackliu #mfmango

[polyklok]

This one was so much more detailed and I don’t know why-

Pickles “The” Drummer, physique/appearance

Nathan

Skwisgarr

Toki

Murderface

He got his name legally changed to the dumbest thing possible-

His age was actually a debate in the fandom during the early days, but that dwindled down greatly once a video of him was taken, drunk as all hell, yelling “I’M TWENTY-FUCKING-NINE YEARS OF OLD AND GODDAMN PROUD OF IT!” to a bartender asking for age identification. He’s 31 now. (By now, I mean like…10ish years ago, when the show was out)

5’4, short guy. Especially when compared to his band members. During shows, he started to wear heeled boots that make him 5’8. Still wears normal shoes most days, though. And still gets shit from the other guys for it.

Only 120 lbs. He’s generally pretty scrawny, although his biceps are nicely toned from years of going ham on the drums. Also has a bit of a beer gut, just a little squishy.

FtM, has been on T for a while and has gotten top surgery done. More headcanons regarding his gender journey later!

Let’s talk about his hair for a while-

No one in his family knows why his hair is…that color. Like, they have the ginger gene on his mom’s side. His mom and brother both have nice, brownish-red hair. But he came out with a head full of neON ORANGE HAIR. 

It’s very thick and frizzy. When it is in it’s natural state, its a pretty much a lion’s mane. Many people thought he looked like that on purpose during his Snakes ‘N Barrels days to fit in with the ‘glam rock’ fashion. But actually, he started playing glam rock because his hair looks like that.

As for facial hair, he’s very proud of it. It took a long time to grow out properly, so he takes really good care when maintaining it. (Ignore the fact that it’s a different color in the pic. That was my mistake.)

Cannot say the same for his skin. It’s very dry and sort of…leathery? He spends lots of time outside with absolutely no sunscreen, so my man has been BAKED (in more than one way ;))

Also from this, he’s very tan and freckled. It’s cute.

He has a tiny little button nose. Sometimes, he even twitches it like a rabbit. Literally so precious.

His lips are dry and cracked from years and years of smoking various substances. He prays to gods of burt’s bees chapstick.

Also, canon to the show, but he has a very goofy, crooked smile!

Doesn’t take that good of care for his dreadlocks. He spent so much of his life fussing over his hair, he’s honestly sick of it. He only goes to get them redone when they start to seriously stink.

To contrast Skwisgaar; I will say, he has the fattest ass in the band. Murderface is a close second. That is all.

He loves his piercings. Got his ears done when he was a teenager to piss off his parents, did his eyebrows later on. It’s seriously his favorite thing about himself, physically speaking.

He has all sorts of clothes, many of which he altered himself. From his muscle-tees, baggy jeans, leather pants, crop-tops, even a few skirts. He sticks to the same basic getup, but will shock both bandmates and fans occasionally by bringing out some seriously fabulous outfits.

In universe, there are several online accounts completely dedicated to him wearing feminine clothing. He single-handily brought back cheetah-print leggings.

He’s very talented at eye makeup. Doesn’t do it so much nowadays, but still enjoys a little bit of glittery eyeshadow. As a treat.

Call me weird, but I think I’m gonna include a…smell headcanon in all of these. Whatever.

Usually, he’ll smell like alcohol and weed. Sometimes vomit or piss as well. It’s the truth, hun.

But let’s not fool ourselves; he has a collection of very old, very fruity perfumes that he sprays on himself occasionally when he doesn’t feel like showering. Which is often. So he smells like whiskey, piss, and “cherry kiss dream”

Conclusion; he’s one of the few people on Earth who could acceptably wear low-rise jeans. He deserves it.

#metalocalypse #pickles the drummer #dethklok #metalocaypse headcanon #polyklok is real #dethklok headcanon #metalocalypse pickles

[heartbeetz]

aaaaaaaaa noooo I'm thinking about his voice againnnnn

#stoppppp #@ me : go to sleep stop being a fruity little bastard #hhhhhhh I like bill's voice so muchhhhh #in bj he speaks with a bit of a ''frat jock'' edge even though that's not really his personality #and in ftm he just speaks in a way that has really cute and nice and positive energy #like both still obviously have that distinct bill vibe to them but they're almost 30 years apart so of course there are changes #regardless of which time frame it is I like the way his voice sounds 😖😖😖💙 #hhhhhg cringe little gayboy just wants to listen to his bf talk #roz posts #♡: 🎸🤘⚡️ #ok now I'm sleeping FOR REAL #hhhhh his little laughs during the dual couples therapy scene thoughhhh ♡♡♡ #sorryyyyyyy for being cringe

[jaeheewillalwaysbemyfav]

Ah, your work is so cute and it puts me in a good mood! You also have the characters personalities perfected! I was wondering if you could do a fic where maybe Mammon and MC are hanging out and MC comes out as trans (Ftm), but on accident (like Mammon sneaks a peak at his phone and noticed pride stuff and asks). Recently figured out I was and it’s been a bumpy ride and I just need a fic to cheer me up. Thank you if you do

You sir have been Most Patient, and for that I cannot thank you enough! This is super late, but I hope all is going well with you and your journey. ^-^ I also hope you still get some enjoyment out of this fic, even if it’s oh so very late.

Like… a year late. Maybe more. Probably more.

Sidebar, the setup for this feels kinda long but I also personally think it’s funny so I’m leaving it. I don’t have an editor to tell me no sooooooo :p

Content warnings: Accidental outing as trans, the mortifying ordeal of coming out, but otherwise this is gonna be pretty fluffy. 

Also, this isn’t a warning, but since I usually do gn stuff, I’m gonna be extra clear and say this fic is about a transgender male MC who uses he/him pronouns. Ladies and theydies, if you’d like your time, please wait until I’ve opened requests again and I’ll be happy to write ‘ya something.

Cis people who want to be transphobic? Why are you even here lmao

MC Comes Out as FTM By Accident (feat. Mammon)

It’s a (relatively) quiet day at the House of Lamentation. Satan is still firmly in the scheming phase of his latest prank; Lucifer is in some parlour somewhere, sipping Demonus and listening to a record that would “somberly vibrate the flesh off of your mortal bones, MC”; and Levi and the twins are livestreaming a bet about how many of the otaku third born’s figurines Beel can bench press (the latter two are under threat of 1000 years of torture if any of the merchandise is damaged).

This leaves Mammon and MC chilling on one of the House’s many frighteningly expensive couches, sometimes chatting, sometimes just silently sharing Devilgram memes with each other. 

(Asmo had been with them, but left after declaring that the sexual tension Mammon constantly radiated while around MC had become more pathetic than amusing. MC had just rolled his eyes and laughed, but judging by how many pillows Mammon had thrown his brother’s way and the dark blush on his face, he was taking the teasing more seriously.)

Personally, MC didn’t get why Mammon’s brothers gave him such a hard time. Sure he can be abrasive and his refusal to be honest despite how terrible he is at lying could get… frustrating, to say the least, but all in all he isn’t a bad person. Maybe demons are just bad at expressing genuine fondness for each other. Or maybe it just runs in the family, so to speak.

“H-hey, what are ‘ya staring at?!” Oops. MC didn’t even realize he’d been eyeing Mammon for that long. Not that he minds getting an extra eyeful of Mammon...

“Sorry, just spaced out for a minute there,” he says. 

Neither break eye contact for a long moment.

Shit, this is awkward. Think, MC, say something!

“So did you see this video of a hellhound on a trampoline—”

A glass-shattering shriek echoes through the House of Lamentation, followed by — oh that is actual glass shattering — and the plip-plap footsteps of someone running with bare, wet feet. Seconds later, a furious and appropriately damp Asmodeus comes flying down the stairs, with a weird orange and white towel on his head… Aaaaand nothing else on. MC doesn’t get to process any more than that before Mammon pounces on him, straddling him and covering his eyes with a hand.

“Asmo! What the hell are you doing, running around naked and screaming?!”

“I think you know why, you stupid scumbag!” Asmo retorts with an affronted flip of his hair. Or at least MC thinks it was his hair, all he knows is he just got lightly splashed. Why does he smell citrus?

“What are you even talking about?”

“I was going to take a nice, relaxing bath to scrub off your desperation for MC’s affections—”

“I am NOT desperate!”

“— but when I washed my hair, you know what happened?”

“...You confused orange juice for shampoo?” Mammon drawls. MC doesn’t need his vision to picture the smirk on Mammon’s face.

“How dare you,” Asmo hisses at much lower volume than before, “I would never confuse any of my bathing products.” His voice immediately returns to its regular cadence. “No, someone snuck dye into it, or replaced it, or cursed it or something! Because now,” a towel smacks wetly against the floor, “my hair looks like this!”

Mammon howls with laughter, prompting Asmo to make several sounds MC semi-confidently determines to be swears in Infernal… or whatever the native language of the Devildom is called.

He paws at Mammon’s hand obscuring his vision. If Asmo’s hair has been turned into a creamsicle by some prank gone wrong, he very much wants to see the damage. Unfortunately, Mammon doesn’t budge.

“Not that this isn’t extremely hilarious, but what does it have to do with me?”

Asmo squawks indignantly. “What does it— It was obviously you, you idiot!”

Finally, Mammon removes his hand from MC’s eyes to point an accusatory finger at Asmo and proclaim, “No way!”

The brothers’ petty argument fades into white noise as MC beholds Asmo’s hair. It truly is something else. The demon’s curls have gone from a peachy pink to a swirled mess of neon orange, with pieces of the original colour peaking through here and there. It cannot be played off as intentional or good in any way. There are even patches of his skin that are dyed orange as well. It’s pretty hilarious.

MC is starting to lose feeling in his legs.

“Uh, Mammon? You mind getting off of me?”

Eyes enormous, the Avatar of Greed does just that, and instead presses himself into the other side of the couch like a startled cat. Asmo rolls his eyes and turns his attention to MC.

“You’re not overwhelmed with the most poorly hidden crush of the millenia, right? Would you mind helping me sort this mess out?” he asks. “Think about it. It’ll just be you and me, all glistening and—”

“Not helping your case,” MC retorts, carefully keeping his eyes above Asmo’s waist, “but yeah, whatever cursed soda got into your hair stuff is probably close enough to normal stains that my tricks will help get them out. But! You need to put on some clothes first.”

“Spoilsport~ But if you insist…” Asmo smiles beatifically and saunters back to his room, making absolutely no effort to cover himself as he goes.

I’d kill for his confidence, MC thinks. He promises Mammon he’ll be back as soon as possible and takes his leave, following the trail of watery footprints.

~~~

Mammon remains folded into the corner of the couch, pouting. Of course Asmo had to come and steal MC away from him, he can’t have any time alone with him ever! There’s always some stupid shenanigans that interrupt it— 

MC left his phone. 

It’s sitting innocuously on the couch, face down. Unguarded.

Vulnerable.

He shouldn’t. He won’t! That’s MC’s phone. Mammon may be a demon, but he’s a demon with standards. He will totally respect MC’s privacy. He’s not even tempted. Who cares about some human’s phone anyway?

...What if it’s unlocked?

“Oh screw it.” 

The phone’s in his hand before the indent it left in the couch cushion can spring back in full. It is, in fact, unlocked, and open on the photos app for some reason. The photos are organized in time based folders. Mammon scrolls through the more recent ones, which consist mostly of pictures of the brothers, some with MC, some not — hey, when did MC take that picture of him?! — until he comes across a folder simply labelled “Pride”.

“Tch, they have a whole folder dedicated to Lucifer? Gross!” Mammon remarks as he opens it.

Jealous as he may not be of MC dedicating a folder to Lucifer instead of him anyone else, new pictures of Lucifer could sell for a pretty penny on the Devildom black market…

Oh. Oh. These are not photos of Lucifer. 

Mammon’s not the most knowledgeable about the human world, but he knows a Pride parade when he sees one. It looks like MC had a really nice time, smiling and laughing with a group of people in brightly coloured clothes. The album ends with a wide shot of MC and his friends in a line doing various corny poses. Each one has a distinctly coloured flag draped across their shoulders like a cape. MC’s is a 5 striped design of bright blue, pink, and white bars. The wrinkles on the flag/cape suggest it was recently unpackaged.

Something about those colours pings at Mammon’s memory, and with a bit of effort it comes to him: when MC first came to the Devildom, his phone background involved those colours! Asmo had seen it and asked him about the colour choice, to which he’d responded with some blustering nonanswer and then promptly changed the background.

Did MC… think that any of them would judge him for being trans?

“Okay,” MC declares as he re-enters the room, “Asmo’s given up and is bleaching his hair, apparently magic demon pranks go way harder...than…” 

Mammon freezes. The pair stare each other down for a few interminable seconds.

“...That’s my phone.”

“So it is…!”

“You saw the pictures, didn’t you.”

“Piiiiiiiicturrrrreessssss?” Mammon extends the word into several more syllables than is necessary. “What pictures?”

MC’s mouth does not say “Dude.” But the expression on his face very much conveys the sentiment nonetheless.

“Okay okay, I might have taken a little peek at your phone while you were gone. But it was just to make sure you didn’t leave it on! I locked it right away, I swear!”

“You’re still holding it.”

“Kuh-K-Keeping it warm! Cold phones lose battery faster!”

“...”

“Ugggggghhhhh okay! I looked a lot and saw everything! That what you wanna hear?!”

MC braces himself. “So…?”

“So what?”

“You don’t have any… questions?” he asks with a gesture towards himself.

“Uhhh, no?” Mammon pauses. “Oh wait, yeah, I have one.” Here we go. “ ‘MC’ and he/him pronouns are the right junk to call you by, yeah?”

MC blinks owlishly. “Yup— Uh, yeah, they are. Been that way for a while now… You really don’t—”

“MC,” Mammon says with a sharp toothed grin, “you really think humans are the only ones who get unsatisfied with what meat vessel or titles they’re assigned by the big man upstairs?”

Understanding bonks MC on the head with the same delicacy that Mammon carelessly tosses his phone back with. “Wait, r—”

“Let me show you how cool the Devildom trans flag is.”

#mrsketchydude #obey me #obey me mammon #obey me imagines #obey me trans mc #mine #my writing #mammon #happy pride month everyone #except where i live the parade is in august so it's more like pride summer #hot demon summer indeed lol #all the brothers are trans and/or nb bc i said so #but especially mammon #PS: i do not have a design for the devildom trans pride flag in mind #but if someone else does I Would Like To See It

[artystaroc]

Now that Ryoma is gone

Headcannons that I developed as I learned more about him!

But first let me go over the headcannons I had before

• So I find he's less anxious and definitely just depressed(tm). So anxiety tics have been thrown out the window.

• I said he was ace and, you know? Since then I've narrowed it down more to demisexual. (I also might start drawing him with an ace ring cause I think he would look nice with a ring)

• The fact that he actually had a cat makes me very happy.

• I said he was a fast runner so his "Shukuchi method" also makes me very happy.

• "He's just fit as hell" All signs point to yes (along with the other exercise-related headcannons).

• "His candy cigarettes are black licorice flavored" This has not been disputed in any way so I'm sticking to it.

• "Probably chews his nails. He always thinks about painting them to see if it'll stop him from doing that but never gets around to actually doing it" I'd say he would end up chewing his nails out of boredom and you know, I think it would be cute if someone sat down with him one day and painted his nails for him :)

• "He can't swim" All things considered, I just think this would be funny (though it's interesting that Tenko says she can't swim. huh).

So now, the new headcannons:

• He cannot help but smile upon seeing a cat. He gets embarrassed when someone points it out.

• It's hard to read subtext with him. Like sometimes he sounds real threatening when he isn't trying to be or he'll sound genuinely encouraging but his face reads like "I will crush you".

• He talks real quiet. Sometimes you need to ask him to repeat himself because he's basicly muttering.

• His cat is a Russian blue.

• He probably named it something like "Sugar". I don't know why I'm so convinced by that.

• The Ultimate Tennis Pro cannot, for the life of him, play table tennis. He is terrible at it.

• He knew Nekomaru whom used to coach him and they were good friends. :3

• Ryoma would call him "Neko".

• He used to be very cheerful around his tennis friends. Like, to a creepy degree, compared to how depressed he is now.

• He can speak English very well. At first it was kinda broken but his girlfriend helped him improve.

• I can see his girlfriend being American.

• Ryoma shaves his eyebrows. He was once dared to shave them off by his tennis buddies and he did it but then liked it unironically (especially with his beanie on). He cannot go back now.

• He likes sour sweets every now and then.

• He loves head pets! He really likes the feeling of fingers running through his hair. If you pet him, he will lean into it with the most content smile on his face.

• He actually really likes stripped shirts.

• He is ambidextrous but usually relies on his left hand.

• He's trans ftm.

• He has a lot of chaotic energy. He does stupid stuff for that small rush of serotonin(tm), and he will do it with the most deadpan attitude ever.

That's all I've got for now!

#drv3 #ryoma hoshi #drv3 spoilers #headcannon #i ramble #i love him so much #i miss him already :'( #may 19 2021

[koteosa]

If you’re still taking fic recs, FtM asra + FtM apprentice getting naughty in the woods would be lovely

This took me awhile to finish but I hope you like it, anon ;) ao3 link

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see," promises Asra, sneaking a glance over his shoulder to where his apprentice follows a few steps behind, grasping his hand. Ruby eyes shift from him to the forest around them, rose pink lips scrunched up slightly in a little pout.

They'd been walking for awhile with no clear destination in mind, at least, none that Kamui knew about. This is another surprise, and just like all the others, Asra is jittery with excitement. Knowing him, wherever they're going is bound to be good. Asra knew Kamui better than he knew himself, even if Asra is more inclined to let Kamui figure things out on his own. Some things, though, are just too good to pass up introducing, or rather, reintroducing him to, especially now that his headaches are nearly nonexistent.

They still prefer not to play with fire, but Kamui's sure this will be fine. Asra is careful, beyond careful. Kamui has to trust he knows what he's doing.

Since their lives have settled into whatever counts as peace for them, they'd gone to many places, and Kamui witnessed Asra getting excited about the many things he found and wanted to share with Kamui. Color-changing hot springs, floating islands, or even just a little bug he thought was pretty.

Kamui smiles at the thought. Asra is so cute.

The two are dressed loosely, with nothing to carry but a basket slung over one of Asra's arms. A clear signifier they're going on a picnic; that, or they're going collecting, but Kamui could kind of see between the reeds, and the basket didn't seem empty. He didn't want to spoil the surprise, though, so he doesn't look too closely.

The forest begins to turn less dark and dreary and more colorful as they go on. Glowing, aqua blue mushrooms pop out of the grass, with jellyfish-like ones along the nearby trees in various pastels. The foliage grows thick and nearly blots out the sun, making the bioluminescent flora nearby their primary light source. The grass and leaves seem more blue-tinted than before, and the ground like clay.

In the distance, he spots a blue will-o-wisp hovering near a large pond, before several more pop into view in various shades. They fade and in out of view to seemingly teleport from place to place. As the two magicians step closer to the water, the nearby wisps vanish, almost as if they'd never been. But Kamui can see them reappear along the tree line, like little fairy lights.

Angling his head back down, he peers into the water, as Asra takes his hand back and begins preparing their picnic—as predicted—nearby. The water is strangely dark and deep, like the ocean, making it impossible to see past the surface. If there's anything inside, Kamui can't see it. But what he can see is the way the surface glimmers in the light of glowing mushrooms and wisps.

Easing down onto the blue and violet patterned blanket with a casual ease, Kamui curls his legs, saying, "This place is beautiful. How did you find out about it?"

Turning to where Asra is sitting on his knees nearby, rifling through the basket in search of something in particular, he senses the hesitation that doesn't show in Asra's pleasant smile, or in his loose, relaxed body language. He doesn't say anything, not right away, but Kamui can practically hear the "I can't tell you that" anyway, having been through it so many times before.

Eventually, Asra speaks up, but only after placing a jar of some kind of red-violet jam on the blanket between them. It looks store bought, with a pink cloth tied with red twine on top.

Tapping the top of the jar, Asra meets Kamui's eyes and says, "You'll like this." Mild disappointment passes over Kamui knowing his question had just been dodged, though he should have expected—"This is the place where we first made love."

He nearly chokes on thin air. Lips flapping uselessly, he looks from Asra's smug grin to the jar to the forest around them, wondering—where, exactly? Right here, where they're sitting? Against a tree? Which tree? Or did they do it in the water?

When he turns back to Asra, the magician is grinning wide, chin propped up on a hand as he gazes lovingly at his apprentice. "You look so good in pink," he purrs, and Kamui can feel his face burn hotter.

"You're the worst," Kamui says, in such a state of shock that his words don't quite carry the heat he intends, and Asra just laughs. Pouting, Kamui turns back to the pond, realizing he can't see his reflection—or anything's reflection. If not for the gentle sway of the water, he might think it's just some oddly-colored sheet of ice, instead.

He's thinking about it, now, though. There is very little he knew about their past, beyond some sort of reversal of their dynamic, at least at first; Kamui had been more confident. Better than Asra at a lot of things, like love, which Asra hadn't experienced before meeting Kamui. He hadn't known how to react to how incredibly forward Kamui could be. That's all he'd actually said, and as much as Kamui had wanted to try filling in the blanks himself, he knew it to be dangerous to his health.

Now, though. Now he's immensely curious, and can't stop himself. He wants to think it's the water—it's just such a focal point to the scene, and with Asra's affinity for water, it… just felt like the right place, like it's something Kamui would think to do. Or maybe Asra had asked for it. Had he? Would he have been bold, actions over words, initiating with no warning and acting like he had any idea what he's doing? He must have stumbled somewhere, or everywhere, and Kamui would give anything to see Asra in such a way, at least once.

Hopefully it didn't look like what Kamui remembered as their first time. He felt so awkward, like Asra was some kind of god who found everything he did to be "cute", and not… alluring, sultry, seductive, anything like that. Or maybe it's that, but in reverse? Kamui felt a lot better about that idea.

"Kamui," Asra softly sing-songs, pulling the aforementioned man out of his thoughts. Ruby eyes dart over to him, blinking to clear his unfocused vision. The magician's lips part as a soft, barely audible huff of amusement drifts past, and he scoots closer, drawing the backs of his fingers down Kamui's bare arm where his soft red jacket had slipped.

"I know it's tempting, but try to stay with me," Asra says, leaning slightly forward in order to be peering up at his apprentice. The tilt of his head is so cute, Kamui wants to kiss him.

So he does, pale hand caressing the side of his square jaw, tasting a hint of something spicy on his lips. In return, Asra's wandering hand finds Kamui's sleeve, tugging just enough for him to get the point and ease closer as Asra shifts into a reclining position. He lays propped up on his elbow while Kamui leans over him, legs curled off to one side.

Nuzzling into Asra's neck, Kamui catches a whiff of his scent, sighing softly upon not-so-subtly inhaling it. "You smell really nice," he comments. "What is that…?"

Asra tips his head to one side, giving Kamui more room. The man curls his arms around Asra's back, hands resting on the backs of his shoulders. "You like it?" Asra asks, the smile audible in his voice. Kamui responds with an affirmative hum. "It's something Nadi gave me. I thought I might try it out."

"She's a genius," Kamui purrs, nuzzling in closer while Asra laughs softly. "It smells… spicy. Woodsy. Warm. I don't know."

"And here I thought you were a poet," Asra teases, prompting Kamui to pull back with a small scoff, playfully shoving Asra's shoulder as his grin grows wider, flashing a hint of teeth.

"Aspiring poet, shut up."

With a soft chuckle, Asra reaches up to cup the nape of Kamui's neck, urging him back in for another kiss. Kamui goes willingly, and they get caught up in kissing until Asra pulls back, licking his lips. His hand trails down, finger brushing the underside of Kamui's chin. It sends a light shiver down his spine, making him want to go back to kissing immediately, but Asra has other plans.

Rather than sit up, Asra flops back onto the blanket, pulling the glass jar over and holding it up above his chest. Kamui eases back a bit to give him some room, but doesn't hesitate to start leaning on Asra's bent leg, hands folded atop his knee.

"Do you know what this is?" Asra asks. Kamui squints at the jar, thinking.

"Considering it's you, I'd guess it's not something like strawberry jam."

"You'd guess right," Asra cheerily responds, and Kamui rolls his eyes while letting out a small, breathless chuckle. Tapping the side of the jar with one blue-painted nail, Asra says, "I picked this up when we were in Zadith last month."

"With your parents?" Asra nods. "Is this something you made together?"

"Oh, no. My parents would be very disappointed in me if they knew I had this."

"What is it, a bomb? Are we preparing to commit a war crime?"

Covering his mouth as he laughs, it takes a moment before Asra can respond with, "No, nothing like that. It's just not something you want your parents knowing about."

It immediately clicks in Kamui's mind, then, despite his general lack of knowledge towards what it's like to have parents. "It's an aphrodisiac," he concludes, letting out a soft huff as Asra smirks. "Oh my god, Asra."

Grinning deviously, Asra makes a show out of popping open the jar. Immediately, a sweet, fruity scent escapes into the air. Now that it's open, it looks more like a jelly than a jam.

"It's not very strong," he explains, "Just something to play around with a bit." He grins. "It's also a lubricant."

That reveal gives Kamui a lot of ideas, his mind flooding with imaginary scenarios that have his face turning a deeper shade of pink. As he returns to reality, he comes to a realization that has him suppressing a laugh. "You brought me out to the woods so we could fuck."

"And eat a delicious lunch afterwards," Asra points out, gesturing to the wicker basket nearby, which Kamui had yet to see the contents of. "Or we could just eat the lunch, if you want."

"You know me." Leaning forward, Kamui spreads his hands out across Asra's chest, dipping beneath the fabric of his loose jacket, for which he's wearing nothing else underneath. it's a fairly warm day, and now that Kamui knows what they're out here for, it made even more sense why Asra had chosen such an easy to remove, loose outfit; and why he'd told Kamui to do the same, "because of the weather", sure. The real reason had a lot more to do with how easily Kamui's hands are able to find the soft, silky flesh of Asra's nipples. "I'd rather skip straight to dessert."

With a playful smirk, Asra says, "Well, in that case…" He dips a finger inside the jar, twisting it so it comes out thoroughly coated. The mixture drips like honey once the gelatinous surface is broken. Asra's tongue swipes across the red lines dribbling down his hand before they can reach his wrist, the look in his eyes less seductive and more nervous. "I didn't expect it to be this runny," he says.

"Well, it's like ice cream," Kamui comments, lightly grasping Asra's wrist and pulling his hand closer. He laves his tongue over Asra's hand, cleaning up the drips before taking Asra's finger into his mouth and sucking. Watching Asra's reaction through lidded eyes reveals exactly the kind of awed, bashful look he was hoping for.

He almost forgets to pay attention to the sweet taste caressing his tongue, like some kind of moist, cherry candy. It's almost too sweet, nearly coaxing a shiver out of him from the overstimulation to the inside of his mouth alone.

"How is it?" Asra asks, despite having already tasted some of it himself. A vivid dusting of red coats his cheeks, attention entirely fixated on Kamui as he licks his lips, considering the taste. It's during those thoughts that he starts to feel an odd sort of tingle, a shiver passing over his body before it's all gone, replaced with a radiating heat. His skin feels more sensitive everywhere its making contact with Asra's skin, and there's a few parts of his body he's a lot more aware of.

"Sweet," Kamui responds, his voice coming out low and breathy. "How much are we supposed to eat?"

"I don't think it matters," Asra thoughtfully responds. His face turns even redder, and he averts his eyes before adding, "The merchant suggested eating it off of each other."

Eyes wide, Kamui says, "I have trouble imagining you handing over coin for this in person."

"It was only nerve wracking when they started talking to me."

Kamui chuckles lowly. "Mmm, next time, take me with you. I'll do all the talking, you know I don't care."

"I wanted to surprise you," Asra says, toying with his bangs using his cleaner hand, which just prompts Kamui to pull it away and begin peppering kisses from his palm up to the tip of one finger.

Once that's done, Kamui tips the container closer to him and dips a finger inside. He presses the digit against Asra's lips, receiving an amused grin in response. There's a hint of something devious and almost challenging in Asra's eyes as he takes it inside his mouth. Kamui strokes his tongue, specifically targeting the area he knew would taste the sweetest. The way Asra's brows tilt as a shiver runs down his spine is exciting.

With one hand on the blanket, Asra pushes himself up, setting the jar aside before lightly grasping onto Kamui's wrist, keeping his hand in place. A moan escapes Asra's throat as he lavishes his tongue over Kamui's skin, escalating from suggestive to lewd remarkably fast. A string of pink-tinted saliva trails between them as Kamui pulls his hand back.

"Did you do that on purpose?" he asks, voice low. The look Asra gives him is dazed, like he hadn't quite heard what Kamui said, which is answer enough.

Licking his lips, Asra shivers, the blush on his cheeks rapidly spreading down his chest. "Oh, that's… immediate," he breathes, coaxing a small laugh out of Kamui. Violet eyes flicker down Kamui's torso, where the folds of his shirt sit just above the braided belt of his pants, revealing a portion of a pale, hairless chest and ribs. A bit of a lopsided, lazy version of Asra's typical grin plays across his lips as he meets Kamui's gaze, saying, "Aren't you a little too warm in that?"

Sliding his hands down the bare expanse of Asra's chest makes the magician's breaths stutter, lust in his gaze as he watches Kamui's every movement. He tilts his head to the side, soft white curls tickling his cheek. "You're right," he says, "Why don't you help me out of it…?"

"Well, if you insist…" Sitting up further with Kamui shifting to straddle his thighs, Asra makes swift work of his top. The silk slides smoothly off his shoulders, coaxing a slight shiver out of him alongside a quiet, stuttered breath. Everything feels heightened, every slip of clothing past his skin like the delicate touch of a lover. He's not so sure it was appropriate to call the aphrodisiac "not very strong".

Lips caress his waist, trailing down. He sits up higher, hands on Asra's sun kissed shoulders. His skin is warm, and Kamui wants to touch more of it, to hold him close and feel their skin connect. Pale hands slide down the back of Asra's shoulders as he curls over the top of him, barely noticing it when Asra starts removing his belt with his teeth. Kamui can't help but laugh at his eagerness; he can't even be bothered to use his hands, getting the front of Kamui's pants open without them. An art Kamui is still in the process of mastering.

With one hand dipping down the back of Kamui's waistband, the other reaches for the jar nearby. He gets Kamui's pants and smallclothes halfway down his thighs before dipping two fingers inside the jam and licking it off. He kisses the front of Kamui's pelvis, right in the center of a patch of wiry white hairs, before dipping down and giving a long, firm lap of the flat of his tongue up Kamui's center. The jam he'd kept stuck on his tongue goes with it, smeared thoroughly between his folds as Kamui shivers and starts to squirm.

"Oh, that's—" Cold, he wants to say, but it quickly heats up until all he notices is how sticky it is. As Asra draws his tongue back over him, the jam starts to cling just enough to provide a glorious sense of friction. The jelly he'd already consumed has him sensitive enough already. "—Good," he finishes, quivering as Asra continues to lap at his core, cleaning him, hands lightly gripping his hips. He has to resist the urge to grind his hips forward; the desire is immense, despite how little they've done so far.

Asra grins up at him, that smug, self-satisfied little smirk that always gets him riled up in these situations. Maybe it's on purpose, but Kamui doesn't care; he grips the back of Asra's hair, holding him in place as he rubs himself against Asra's tongue. It dips firmly against his clit and he moans at the surge of pleasure it provides.

"O-Oh, Asra…" His breaths quicken as he shifts his hips, though Asra quickly gets the point and circles his tongue around him. It's far too good far too quickly, making him feel like he's on the verge of cumming already. Sparks travel down his thighs and his legs lock in place as he ruts against Asra's tongue, lashes fluttering with every burst of pleasure. Dizziness clouds his mind and he can't pay attention to anything but how good it feels. The sensation builds rapidly, growing too powerful and then he's spilling over, moaning as he clings to Asra's hair and shoulders. His body twitches and Asra doesn't stop for even a second, his hands squeezing the soft flesh of Kamui's backside.

As the feeling subsides and his body begins to relax, he finds himself tipping forward; Asra acts quickly, catching them both on one hand before carefully maneuvering them so Kamui lays flat against the blanket. Asra tugs Kamui's clothes all the way off before kneeling between his legs.

With his head tipped back and eyes closed, he can't be certain what's going on anywhere Asra isn't touching him, but when he opens his eyes, their faces are inches apart. He catches his own scent on Asra's breath, his lips glistening but otherwise perfectly clean. It really shouldn't be as arousing as it is, but when Asra kisses him and their tongues glide together and he can taste himself, a spark shoots down his body. He pulls Asra closer.

Their lips part for just a moment, heat in Asra's gaze as he shifts with a mumbled, "Hold on," balancing against Kamui's shoulder as he pulls his pants down around his thighs—nothing underneath, predictable. Kamui bends a leg, hooking his toe into the waistband and awkwardly yanking it farther down Asra's leg. The magician laughs, reaching down to continue what Kamui started, just to have to battle with Kamui's hands trying to undress him even faster. "Kamui—Slow down," he laughs.

"Nuh uh," Kamui says, shaking his head and chuckling playfully. "You don't get to wear clothes. Be naked with me." Once the pants are off, Kamui starts on the jacket, fastened with just two buttons low around Asra's waist. To say that he tears it off is too violent, but it's something to that affect regardless.

The moment they're both nude is when Kamui wraps his limbs around Asra to pull him as close as humanly possible. If only it were possible to go even farther. He only truly feels correct when Asra's skin is clinging to his like this, sticky with the beginnings of sweat. His heart pounds. Lips caress his neck before finding their way up to his mouth; Kamui nuzzles his nose into Asra's affectionately before they're kissing again, so busy smiling that it makes their movements clumsy, at first.

Then Asra's hands trail down to Kamui's hips, and he shifts his lower body. He head turns, and he spots the jar nearby, reaching for it and dribbling a generous amount onto one hand. That same hand disappears between his thighs, though Kamui can't quite see anything from his position.

Positioning himself in just the right way, Asra grinds against Kamui, the sticky warmth spreading over him. Surprised, Kamui gasps, hearing Asra groan by his ear at nearly the same time. Without even thinking about it, Kamui spreads his legs, clinging to Asra's shoulders as he moves again, expertly gliding their clits together in just the right way to send tingles down his thighs. Though his body still feels a bit tired after the first orgasm, he doesn't want this to stop or slow down for even a second.

Asra's hands travel. Up Kamui's back, around his waist, back down to his hips, across his thighs, over his chest, everywhere, all the while moving his hips in search of that spark, that rush of pleasure that makes his toes curl. It's clear he wasn't expecting how strong it would feel right away, ducking his head into the dip of Kamui's neck and shoulder, the sound of his shallow breaths mingling with Kamui's.

The pace grows frenzied quickly, Asra's arms wrapping around Kamui's neck and shoulders. The sounds tumble out of him loud and a bit higher pitched than Kamui's used to hearing; little whimpers and gasping moans, and Kamui can feel the high he's chasing as if they were one and the same. His own voice is in there somewhere, though he's focused entirely on Asra's melodic and gentle tones instead.

The sound of him enjoying himself only makes everything feel so much better, and when something that sounds an awful lot like "Kamui" is moaned directly into a pale ear, the pressure around Kamui's clit builds so high he nearly cums right away. Though everything Asra does is perfect, he can't stop himself from moving back against him, increasing that pressure as he suddenly finds himself unable to shut up.

"Asra," he groans, his hand tightening against the skin of Asra's back, fingers curling around fluffy strands of hair. "Asra, Asra—Oh—I love you, I love—Ohhh—" A flash of pleasure rolls over him and he wraps his legs around Asra's back, wanting, needing him to be closer. It's so much, his mind starts to short out, everything feels hot, but it isn't enough. "—Fuck, god, harder—Please—"

Raising up, Asra crashes their lips together as his hands go immediately down to Kamui's hips, gripping tight enough for his thumbs to bruise into Kamui's soft, pale skin. He uses his grip to hold Kamui in place, grinding faster and harder, rubbing all the right spots like he's attuned to it. Their kissing barely lasts all that long before they're merely leaning into each other, hot breaths intermingling.

Asra bites his lip as he crests suddenly, and Kamui reaches to angle him properly to see every inch of his face. His brows upturned, lashes fluttering, golden skin flushed a beautiful shade of red. The noise he makes starts soft, barely a breath before growing deeper and more intense. It's all exactly what Kamui needs to join him, the pleasure so strong he has trouble focusing on anything else, except; the pulsing feeling keeps going, and Asra doesn't stop moving, and his body continues twitching for a lot longer than he's used to.

"Asra—I c-can't—I can't stop—"

A warm mouth presses into his as a tongue invades his mouth, reducing him to pathetic whimpers. Even after his body manages to calm itself, Asra's hips continue to move, only far slower, lazy circles that keep him feeling something. The heat remains in his lower half for a long while afterwards and he's surprised he doesn't feel the slightest bit sore after all this, but then again, they hadn't exactly done this unassisted.

Their cheeks brush as Asra's head all-but flops onto his shoulder. They're both still focused on catching their breath, enjoying the feeling of being held in each other's arms despite the heat. Kamui isn't bothered—if they could melt into each other, that would be really ideal, in his opinion.

A satisfied sigh parts Kamui's lips. "Asra," he starts, running his fingers through the aforementioned magician's hair. His hips are still moving, lazily but enough that Kamui can feel the slight pressure it maintains around his clit. "What are you doing…? Do you want to go again?"

A kiss is pressed to his cheek, and Asra sighs, his breaths warm on Kamui's skin. "It still feels really good," he says, low, breathless, and Kamui finds himself biting his lip. "I don't want to stop."

"Then let me touch you," Kamui says, already beginning to shift, urging Asra up and onto his back against the blanket, swapping their positions. He curls alongside Asra's body, propped up on his hands to get a really good look along Asra's body; slim, but toned, he's always been thicker than Kamui in all the right ways, making him feel safe and protected in his arms. Though redundant to even say, he's beautiful, and Kamui never tires of looking at him.

He just barely notices the jar nearby, tipped over onto its side, though luckily nothing seems to have spilled. Licking his lips, he lifts it up and holds it suggestively against his chin as he looks down over Asra's body, considering. One of Asra's hands raises up over his brow, his head turning towards the blanket, violet eyes peering up at him in a daze. He's red from the tips of his ears down the front of his torso. Glistening with sweat in the warm summer sun, even with all the shade. His eyes droop lazily and his grin is just as lethargic, though to Kamui, everything about him is irresistible.

"Oh, are you gonna make me your appetizer?" Asra purrs, eyes flickering between the jar and Kamui. With a flirtatious smirk, Kamui tilts the jar out over Asra's body, drizzling it across his chest and the hard lines of his abs like he might a dessert. The red jelly drips between his pectorals and Kamui dives in to lap it up, feeling Asra shudder beneath him.

"I'd rather make you my dessert," Kamui purrs, voice so low it nearly comes out as a growl. The sound reverberates in Asra's ear and he shivers, body trembling with desire. He looks so vulnerable; quivering, as Kamui leans back in to draw his tongue up a line of red, intentionally bringing it over a nipple in the process. He can feel it respond to his touch, and goes back over it several more times as it grows harder, only stopping once he's satisfied with how perky it gets.

Though taking his sweet time lavishing Asra's upper body with attention, it doesn't escape Kamui's notice the way his lower half squirms, searching for attention; a thigh to rub up against, though Kamui's leg isn't quite positioned to make that easy for him. A pale hand dips down, feeling the dampness coating Asra's slit, slightly sticky; pink clings to Kamui's fingers and he physically cannot stop himself from sticking them in his mouth. It tastes sweet, like the jam, but also overwhelmingly like Asra, and he moans around his fingers.

The sound is mirrored in his lover's voice, watching him closely, eyes blown black. Though he lays there allowing Kamui to have his way with him, there's a certain impatience radiating off of him. One Kamui loves to ignore, most of the time, just to tease him. This time, however, he feels just as impatient, and slides his hand back down Asra's pelvis, teasing him along his folds before parting them to slip his fingers in between. Asra's breaths quicken, and the second Kamui so much as grazes his clit, he pushes his hips forward, overeager. And, yet again—Kamui forgets the art of shutting his mouth.

"You're so cute," he purrs. "I want to fuck you—" Asra moans, and Kamui can feel the way Asra throbs in anticipation as he angles a finger closer to his hole, stroking the outside of it. "—Back at the shop, will you let me?"

"Yes, fuck—"

"I want you on your hands and knees, presenting yourself to me." Asra whimpers, pushing his hips forward as Kamui repositions his hand, thumb focused on Asra's clit while he reaches down to tease his entrance. The mere thought of it makes Kamui throb, and he's not even the one being touched. He just can't resist the way Asra looks in such a compromising position, the way he trembles and moans as Kamui pumps his fingers in and out of him, soaking wet and desperate for more. He's perfect, absolutely perfect. "Would you prefer my fingers, or…?"

"You," Asra responds immediately, not even giving Kamui the chance to continue. "You, you, I want you—" His hand cards into his own hair, the other blindly reaching for Kamui, though he can't tell what Asra wants, whether it's for them to be closer, or just to be touching Kamui at all. It settles along his bicep, stubby nails pressing into his flesh. A finger presses inside of him and a full body shiver passes over him, coaxing out a heady moan. "Ohhhh—Only you," he groans, and Kamui's finger dips deeper, slick with the sticky pink fluid. "Just—Just you—"

Leaning forward, Kamui curls one leg around Asra's as he tenderly kisses his cheek. Asra's words have warmth spreading through him and he wants nothing more than to hand Asra the world, to give him everything and then some. For now, though, he can give him his fingers, and that's enough to have him singing his praises.

Kamui holds him, kissing along his body as he pumps into him with his fingers, just long enough to rub along the spot inside of him that has him seeing stars. Dizzy and breathless, Asra alternates between sitting still and grinding his hips, a leg bent to make it easier to push himself closer, like he can't quite decide what feels best, or maybe he just can't think clearly anymore. A warm tongue glides up his throat before Kamui bites down, and the response is instantaneous; hips thrust up towards him, both of Asra's hands reaching for him to drag him closer.

Turning his body to straddle one of Asra's legs, Kamui kisses along his collar, rubbing himself along a strong thigh; his skin is so smooth and soft and the feeling startles him with how powerful it is, still not used to the effects of the magic. He can tell it would take far too long to build up to where Asra's currently soaring, so he puts most of his efforts into guiding him higher; though the feeling of Asra's juices dripping onto his hand as he fucks in and out of him is exciting in and of itself. The lust-fueled haze in his eyes, his shallow breaths, the litany of Kamui's name and I love you's that pass his lips like a prayer.

Kamui wraps an arm around him, pulling him up off the blanket and into a pale chest. Warm, thick hands cling to him, constantly moving like he isn't quite sure where he wants to touch, aside from everywhere. They finally settle around Kamui's lower back, his leg curling, and he pulls Kamui's hips closer, grinding his wetness across a warm thigh and making him tremble with the sudden flash of pleasure that rolls over his body. His head falls into the dip of Asra's shoulder.

"Oh, I love you…" Kamui sighs, whimpering pathetically as Asra's hands grip his hips, controlling their movements. It encourages him to follow along, tightening his legs around Asra's to increase the pressure that builds slowly around his clit. Though he tries to focus on Asra, it's so hard to concentrate when Asra's returning the favor like that. His hips move clumsily and he buries his face into the crook of Asra's neck, inhaling his scent and shuddering.

Asra's hands move, one threading into Kamui's hair while the other wraps around his back, holding him; his breaths quicken and so do the motion of his hips, his inner walls pulsing around Kamui's finger. Dragging a fingertip firmly along the sensitive bundle of nerves inside of him, Kamui pulls back to watch his face as he cums, and it doesn't take much longer for him to get there.

"You're so beautiful," Kamui purrs, quickening the pace of his hips; Asra turns impossibly redder, turning to hide his face in the blanket as his thighs twitch and he pushes himself up towards Kamui's fingers in short, sharp little thrusts. "Absolutely perfect." Kamui kisses along his cheek. "I adore you…" He keeps rubbing him, prolonging his orgasm for as long as possible. Ruby eyes trail downwards, watching his thighs convulse, seeing the pale fingers dipping down inside of him.

"Kamui…" Asra brokenly moans, receiving a response in the form of a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Their eyes meet for a moment and Kamui sees the dizzy look in his eyes before their lips connect, and he feels as though he could stay here forever, exactly like this.

As Asra's body stills, Kamui's hand lingers for just a moment longer before pulling back. Their lips part long enough for Kamui to suck the fluid from his fingers, maintaining full eye contact. Asra looks barely cognizant, though he still gives his full attention, or whatever's left of it, to watching him. If only he'd been a little more aware, Kamui might have put his fingers in Asra's mouth, instead.

Or maybe not. He, admittedly, liked the taste more than most people.

Moving away from Asra's thigh, Kamui drapes himself over the top of Asra's torso, his legs curled off to one side. He uses one hand to brush Asra's bangs out of his eyes. A few strands stick to his skin where sweat has dripped into his hair; though they hadn't really done anything terribly vigorous, it was still pretty warm out, and that warmth turned blazing hot with the help of all their… activities. And the aphrodisiac, of course.

Languidly kissing along his neck and the side of his face, Kamui snuggles in closer, a hand laid out over his rapidly beating heart, slowly calming as they lie in silence. Asra's eyes droop, like he's having trouble keeping them open at all.

"Tired?" Kamui asks, his voice low and intimate. He receives an affirmative hum in response. "Is twice too much for you?"

"You are," Asra says, peering up at Kamui from beneath his lashes. He looks so sultry, Kamui can't help but melt at the sight of him. "You're incredible…"

"Oh, I know." His self-assured response has Asra chuckling, the smile lingering on his face afterwards; Kamui grins adoringly down at him. "You are, too," he adds, reaching up to lightly run a finger over the dimple that forms near the corner of Asra's lips. "You really don't know what you do to me. I love you, Asra."

Smiling, Asra draws Kamui into a kiss, and when they part, Kamui lays his head over his heart, listening to its steady rhythm. Everything feels peaceful, and perfect; until he hears Asra's stomach rumbling, and he pulls himself up with a laugh. Asra looks embarrassed, as Kamui balances his chin on the backs of his hands.

"Hungry?" he asks, grinning down at Asra's cute little blush. "Asra, darling, did you eat before we came out here?"

Violet eyes drift off somewhere to the left, gaze becoming unfocused slightly. "I… don't remember," Asra admits.

"Ohhhh, look who's skipping meals now." Asra scoffs, though it's more humored than annoyed.

"Just one, Kamui. Not several every day," he retorts, leaning up to kiss the tip of Kamui's nose when he starts to pout. "I was too busy putting all this together, I must have forgot." Turning towards the basket, Kamui follows his gaze, tilting his head curiously. He'd forgotten entirely that they were on a picnic. His legs bend, ankles crossed.

"Let's take a break and eat some of this," he suggests, "And then afterwards, I want to eat you out."

Startled, Asra nearly chokes on thin air. He recovers quickly, though it doesn't stop Kamui from laughing at his expense. Red dusts over Asra's cheeks as they move to sit up, with Kamui positioning himself firmly in his partner's lap. Strong arms wrap around Kamui's torso like they belong there, while soft lips caress his neck.

"How long do you want to stay out here?" Asra asks, his chin propped up on Kamui's shoulder. He hums in thought.

"Until I'm bored," he says. "So, you might have to be the one to decide, because I never tire of your body."

"So, we're living in the woods from now on, then." Kamui laughs.

#the arcana #asra x mc #asra alnazar #fanfic #fic #asra x apprentice #asra x oc #the apprentice #male apprentice #oc apprentice #asra the magician #lemon #writing #ocs #oc:kamui #m/nb #Rated E #oc/canon #the arcana writing

[crash-cinematic-universe]

stories from the rooftop

pairing: ftm!peter maximoff/bisexual!fem!reader

summary/request:  Can you write a trans!Peter Maximoff x bisexual!female reader (like insecurities and all that and just general fluff) - anon

warnings: insecurities

notes: Sorry this took so long, I had to research some stuff. I hope u like it!!! it’s just over 2k words and I worked really hard and i am very Proud. 

taglist: @creator-appreciator

         The sun was low on the horizon, a golden glow filled the sky as the bright star disappeared bit by bit. It was peaceful and calm, the quiet sound of the warm summer breeze rustling the leaves somehow slowing down time. Peter was sitting on the roof of the mansion next to a pretty girl watching the sunset. Every now and then her hand would brush his and his skin would tingle and his heart would skip a beat and his cheeks would flush. He took a deep breath and focused on the feeling of the air in his lungs. His eyes fluttered shut and he ran his hand through his hair.

        Peter couldn’t remember the last time he felt like this. He couldn’t remember the last moment where he didn’t have to worry about anyone or anything. Everything was always chaotic and hard and confusing-- Peter had gotten so tired of everything going so fast all the time. Now, Peter could just lie back and watch the world go by slowly. He could lie down next to a pretty girl who would lie down next to him. He doesn’t think she knows that Peter loves her with all his heart, but he wouldn’t be surprised if he did. Everyone around him knew it, they knew that he would do anything for the pretty girl beside him. They teased him about it and Peter laughed, but deep down inside a fear began to fester. The fear that he was somehow unlovable grew inside of his chest, and it grew with each day. 

        The past was filled with hardships for the jittery boy-- his teenage years were filled with self-discovery. He was a mutant, gifted with the power of super speed. At first, it didn’t feel like a gift. Everyone around him would fear him, and he soon found himself all alone. No one wanted to be friends with the mutant freak, after all. That wasn’t the only thing Peter discovered as a teenager. You see, at age 14, Peter realized he had never felt comfortable in his own skin. When he looked in the mirror he didn’t see the man he was-- he saw a stranger. The girl in the mirror wasn’t Peter and she never would be, because Peter was Peter and no one else. He was a man-- he always has been and always would be. 

        As Peter reflected on his teenage years, he found himself feeling a great pain for his younger self. He remembered every emotion: the panic, the fear of rejection, the insecurity, and the looming thought that Peter would never look like the person he was. However, Peter also remembered all the good. He remembered the relieving, accepting embrace of his mother. He remembered the joyful days he spent with his sisters in his bedroom playing video games and watching movies. He remembered how it felt to arrive at Xavier’s and be totally welcome by everyone. The story of Peter Maximoff is not a tragedy, it’s a tale of hope; and right then, sitting next to the pretty girl on the roof, Peter Maximoff shook away the sad memories and focused on the moment.

        The pretty girl beside Peter peered below at the flowerbeds at the foot of the wall she was looming over. She studied the colors and smiled softly. She too, had faced a lot as a teenager and she too, was content sitting next to the beautiful boy on the roof. She loved him. A lot. More than she’d ever loved anyone-- at least, that’s what she thought. She wasn’t really sure who she loved, or how much, but she was 100% sure that she loved Peter.

          Love had always been a touchy subject for Y/n. She didn’t know what love was for the longest time. She just assumed that love was something that every girl felt for a boy and every boy felt for a girl and that was it; that’s why she was so confused when she began feeling what she felt for boys for other girls. The butterflies that would fly in her stomach for any boy in her class would erupt for the girls that would sit beside her. Her heart would skip a beat for the pretty girl giving her science presentation in the same way her heart would stutter for the pretty boy telling her about a book he’d read. 

        Her mutation activated when she was in 8th grade. She was sitting, hidden under the bleachers with the pretty girl from her science class. Y/n had made an offhand remark about a nasty teacher and the pretty girl laughed. Y/n focused on it hard, and it sent a booming sound wave out from their location. Suddenly the pretty science girl was running away from Y/n, and the echo of her perfect laugh was the only thing she had left. None of the pretty boys or pretty girls would talk to her after that-- she was a monster, an evil creature waiting until the perfect time to strike. She felt as if she was meant to be alone. The thought made her sad, but she shook it away. She didn’t want to be sad now. No, now she just wanted to be next to the beautiful boy she loved. She wasn’t alone anymore.

        Peter’s head filled with thoughts of the future. Eventually, the two of them would have to get off the roof and say goodbye. Even if they would see each other in the morning, every second Peter spent away from her felt incredibly lonely. Neither of them wanted to walk away from this moment, neither of them wanted to let go of everything that they were feeling. But Peter didn’t think Y/n would want to stay much longer. Soon she would get bored of him-- after all, he was just a silly, lovestruck boy who didn’t know how to express his feelings. Could she love him? Could she love every quirk and every flaw and every blemish and every insecurity? Could she love his personality and his appearance and his humor? Could she really love him? Peter wasn’t sure. He really hoped she did, though.

        “Don’t you wish this could be forever?” Peter spoke softly. It startled Y/n just a bit. 

        “This?” She asked. She couldn’t really process the idea that Peter would want to be right here, with her, forever. The pretty girl next to Peter that he loved so, so much believed that Peter was bored on top of the roof with her. He would never get bored of her-- Y/n could read the dictionary and still hold Peter’s full attention, and he’d cherish every word she said and every intricate definition. A word Peter would associate with this moment would be insangelous, equivalent to angels.

        “Yeah,” He sighed a good sigh. “I dunno, everything just feels… right with you, ya know? I don’t ever want this perfect feeling to end.” Peter’s face flashed with the sparkle of an idea. Peter’s mind filled with the warm images of the two of them leaving the mansion at night and exploring the world by themselves. Sure, Peter loved the mansion, but he knew there was more out there for him. There was more to see, more to do, more to experience. But he didn’t want to experience any of that without Y/n by his side. “What if we--” He paused for a moment. The sparkle in his eye faded quickly as she shook away the idea. She would never want to escape with him. She would never want him. He was just a stupid man with stupid ideas. “Actually, nevermind.”

        “No, keep going,” Y/n urged softly. “Please.” The look in her eyes was enough to get Peter to spill his guts. 

        “I was just thinking, what if we… what if we ran away? Just you and me against the world. Then this feeling would last forever.” Peter’s heart dropped slightly as the pretty girl was shocked into silence, the beautiful images of him and her being together until the end of time fading away. He felt stupid and foolish and decided that he would simply never speak again. “It’s stupid. Forget I ever said anything-- it’s a dumb idea anyway.”

        “No it isn’t,” Y/n spoke softly, so softly Peter had to lean a bit closer to hear her. “That idea isn’t stupid, it’s beautiful.”

        Peter looked at the pretty girl that was sitting next to him on the roof as if she was a goddess. He never thought he could feel so much for one person. He never thought so few words could make him feel everything at once. A warm fuzzy feeling filled his chest as the pretty girl reached out and gently placed her hand on his. His breath got caught in his throat and he tried not to choke on his feelings.

        “Peter?” She called. Peter thought his name sounded so nice when it came from her, and Y/n thought Peter’s name was the most precious word in the English language. She looked into his deep dark eyes, the final golden sun rays making the dark brown hue of his irises shift into an endless golden shimmer. She spoke her next words carefully, savoring every syllable. “I love you.” 

        For a moment, Peter thought he would fall off the roof. His golden eyes filled with tears because three words made him feel so much he almost couldn’t take it. There he was, sitting on a roof 30 feet above the solid ground feeling more safe and welcome and accepted than he had ever felt anywhere else. The pretty girl sitting next to him on the roof as they watched the stars fill the night sky loved him. She loved him. It was only when the pretty girl began to look worried that Peter realized he hadn’t said anything in response.

        “I--” He began, but he soon stopped. He couldn’t just say ‘I love you’ because that would barely capture a fraction of everything he felt for her. Peter would simply have to find another way to show her exactly how much he loved her, but for now, he would use his words. “I love you, too. More than anything. You’re my best friend and I love you.” Peter was afraid that he sounded redundant, but Y/n just thought he was being cute.

        Y/n looked at the beautiful man beside her and moved a little closer to him. Her fingers laced with his and they began to sit in a comfortable silence. Peter’s tears fell freely, but they were good tears. Y/n didn’t say anything, she simply wiped away his tears and held his hand and looked at the stars that replaced the golden sun. 

        Peter never thought something like this would happen to him. The idea of loving someone so much that it hurts seemed outlandish to the silver-haired boy, the idea that his love would be requited even more so. Nevertheless, there he was, next to the pretty girl on the roof with his hand in hers and her love in his heart. He felt safe. He felt comfortable. He felt like his whole body was lighting up like a lighting bug. He smiled so wide his cheeks hurt and his chest swelled and he felt so, so, so happy.

        “Y/n?” Peter asked quietly, his voice cracking as he spoke. “Will you… will you say it again? That you love me?” She smiled softly.

        “I love you, Peter Maximoff,” her gentle words made Peter shiver. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to hearing her say that. “You’re the most extraordinary man I’ve ever met.” Peter was afraid that she’d get tired of saying she loved him-- or worse, that he was being annoying or overbearing by needing her affection so much. Y/n would show him soon enough that she could never get tired of him.

        “I love you so much I think it might kill me,” He chuckled softly. “You’re…” he searched his brain for a perfect word to describe the way the pretty girl next to him on the roof looked in the starlight as she told him she loved him. Then, it came to him, and he grinned. “... insangelous.”

#Evan Peters #peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximof x reader #quicksilver #quicksilver x reader #xmen fanfiction #xmen imagine #trans!peter #request #bisexual reader

[defectiveturret0005133-blog]

I’m really fucking scared. I think I might be transgender and I really wish I weren’t. I have support from family about it, that’s not the issue. I thought I was trans as far back as three years ago, hell I’d even socially transitioned. Back then I thought I was one of those fucking trender nonbinary genders like genderdox or demifluid and as time went on I shifted more and more towards ftm. At the start of the year I cane out to everyone as a trans man and they were fake nice about it, like they didn’t want to hurt my feelings but you could tell they didn’t believe me. Admittedly, I had a fucked up childhood so can you really blame them? But anytime I’d hear my parents call me their son it felt wrong. Being ID’d as a man felt nice for a long time until eventually it didn’t. I went by Will up until about July when I had a fucking epiphany late at night that told me I wasn’t trans at all. So I stopped presenting masculine and socially detransitioned. I was ok for a while but then little by little my dysphoria came crawling back.

I spent my summer and fall working at a secluded resort and I’d had my binder shipped to me, for “Halloween costume purposes”. I didn’t want to admit to anyone, especially myself, that I was feeling dysphoria again, especially when I didn’t totally hate what I saw in the mirror when I dressed femininely. Where is the line between liking the pretty girl in the mirror because you like yourself or because you see a pretty girl and you like pretty girls? Please tell me I’m genuinely asking. I started spending as much time as I could binding again, which when you have a roommate is an unfortunately small amount. Whenever I’d have a moment to myself I’d lay around in only a binder and some jeans, and anytime I’d go out to eat with friends I’d either be binding or layering up to cover my chest, or I’d be turning the girliness up to eleven.

Coming back from the resort I think I tried to pretend I hadn’t felt any dysphoria at all, that I was still happy being seen as a girl. And it worked, sort of. I still felt uncomfortable being called daughter but I didn’t hate my birth name as much as before I left, at least until two weeks ago. I’d been writing a piece for a fanfic I’d been working on, and that part happened to involve a magician sneaking a potion in a trans dude’s drink so that when he woke up he was in the correct body, and writing has always been a way for me to analyze what’s going on in my head so of course I wrote it from the perspective of the trans guy and by the time I was done I was fucking shaking in my bed, taken aback by just how easily it was to write this but also by the mountain of dysphoria that landed on me. So now I’m scared and confused and I just wish this shit would fucking leave me alone for once in my goddamn life is that so much to fucking ask?

I’m openly admitting my dysphoria. I hate my chest, if I close my eyes long enough I can forget it’s there and then any reminder I get to it’s presence makes my fucking skin crawl. I used to wish I could get a double mastectomy on the basis of cancer prevention and was actually fucking dissapointed when I learned the only breast cancer to run in my family was benign. I fucking hate my uterus. I wish I had a penis and balls instead. The idea of having sex makes me incredibly uncomfortable and I literally cannot successfully fantasize about anything unless it involves my having a penis. My having a uterus makes me so incredibly uncomfortable that I would literally rather die of ovarian cancer than have a physical done down there. Other people knowing I have a uterus is one of my biggest fears, enough so that I use toilet paper instead of pads so I don’t have to feel the misery that is checking out a a grocery store with them in my cart. Speaking of periods, can we all just agree that they’re worse than death itself. Period cramps are bad enough on their own but when you know you’re bleeding and you shouldn’t be because you shouldn’t have that organ in the first place it makes me more fucking suicidal than I already am. Being called she and her and daughter feels like a leprechaun is gently punching me in the fucking stomach. I hate how fucking short I am. I almost always dream myself with a male body. I remember a few years back the thoughts “I would make a great boyfriend. But I’m a girl” and “I just want to be seen as one of the guys. But I’m a girl” crossing my mind on an almost weekly basis. I also remember dancing around the eating disorder community, because I thought if I could starve all the fat off my body I’d be able to start fresh and present how I actually wanted to. Literally all evidence points to me being ftm.

And yet I cannot overlook the past year of living as a man and just how uncomfortable it made me. I remember watching Beauty and the Beast and having a fucking meltdown because growing up I aligned myself so much with belle and knew that if I transitioned I wouldn’t be able to do that anymore, and I had to fucking remind myself that im not supposed to like the idea of wearing dresses or girly clothing anymore. Being called a girl felt like a gut punch but so did being called a guy.

And yet the thing is, even though I did have to remind myself that I didn’t like those things anymore, it was really fucking easy to remind myself of that. I still get flashes of wanting to wear a cute dress or some nice makeup but as soon as I actually try it out it feels wrong and I stop before I make myself any more uncomfortable. So yes in theory I still like dresses and makeup but in practice it makes me actually want to die.

I’ve been dancing around the term non-binary for a little bit and I honestly think I hate that option even more than the other two. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with identifying as nonbinary. Not even a little bit. But I can’t possibly see how I myself would be nonbinary when I’ve got the same crippling dysphoria associated with being trans ftm. Like honestly, I’ve looked this shit up. Going to fucking webmd I’ve checked off literally every sign of being ftm, except for like two regarding certainty in youth being male aligned which honestly when I’ve had the term tomboy shoved down my throat and been raised into blindly believing what my parents told me to do or say or be, is it that unreasonable to not think I could even be a boy when I had a masculine girl option at the fucking ready?

My entire life being a girl was the only option I’d ever been allowed to have, not because I was told outright not to be trans but because being trans was seen as a joke to my family, a bit for a movie or something those other people did, something to get a quick laugh out of an audience and then to be put back on the back burner, never to be thought about again, which, considering my aunts best friend is literally ftm trans is the biggest load of horse shit I’ve ever heard in my entire life. Yet even once I knew about the trans community and that people who were that were still just normal people everything in my upbringing told me that it wasn’t something that was ok for me to be.

Through typing this I’m quickly discovering that I’ve got a whole lotta internalized transphobia that I’m dealing with. I honest to god didn’t even know it was there until just now. My stepsister is mtf and my closest rinkmate is ftx and I’ve fought tooth and nail for their families to accept them, so I didn’t even realize it was an option for me to be so transphobic towards myself. Im realizing I’m afraid that I’m trans because being trans is still something that’s wrong in my head, even if it’s not wrong in my head for other people. I hate this. Why couldn’t I just be cis. Wot couldn’t I have just had that epiphany back in July and that been it? Just detransistioned and left this mess in the past, like the phase it was supposed to be. I’d rather be dead than deal with this, someone please kill me so it’s not my own fault I’m dead. I hate my parents for twisting my own mind against myself but I don’t want my other family to think they should have done more to help. I wish I could just be myself completely without all this stress but apparently that’s not an option so here we are. I’m afraid to tell anyone else I think I’m trans because if I’m wrong again I don’t want people to think I’m just doing it for attention but keeping it to myself is tearing my to shreds and I don’t know what to fucking do anymore I just want it all to fucking end please god someone just make it fucking stop I can’t take it anymore I’m tired of being strong I need a break someone help me please help I need help help me I’m suffocating fuck help me please help

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Butch, Genderqueer, Genderfluid, Genderfuck and Trans Blogs to watch out for

The big sexy, hot, smart, fierce, masculine, amazing, handsome, strong, sweet, thoughtful, bulging, turgid list of Butch, Genderqueer, Genderfluid, Genderfucking, Masculine-of-Center and Trans Blogs

The other day, I realized I had a hunger for new butch blogs to read.  So I started trolling blogrolls and then realized ‘butch’ doesn’t cover all of what I’m looking for.  What really peaks my interest are people talking about and living outside the gender binary.  Though I started with a blogroll category of “Butches to Watch Out For”, I’ve changed that to “Bend it like …” because what I’m really trying to get at is the gender bending, defying the default gender system in favor of something that works for all of us.

I always feel a thrill when I find new blogs where the authors are exploring gender, pushing the envelope and redefining the definitions.  Because my personal exploration is being done from the perspective of someone who started life female, bloggers who are on similar journeys appeal to me.  I want to compare notes, I want to find new words, new ways of describing the smell, taste, sound and feeling of female-born masculinity.  I now have a pretty good collection, some are friends I’ve met or chatted with, some are blogs I’ve found through the blogrolls of others.  In each case, I’ve found s0me kind of kinship, something I can relate to and learn from.

It’s kind of funny that in the midst of building up my list of butches and others who bravely break stereotypes every day in diverse situations and lives, I found that ridiculous WikiHow article on How to Be a Butch.  Clearly, the authors of that article haven’t met very many butches.  I’m not going to be foolish enough to write a How To guide for butches, but I do invite you to visit these and look for others.

New as of 5/8/2014

Hudson’s FTM Resource Guide: now that I’m in the midst of evaluating options for medical transition, this website has become indispensable to me.  Full of detailed, factual, non-judgmental information on all the things that come up for someone who is looking at options for transition from female assigned at birth to … something else on the masculine side.  I especially geeked out on the explanation of the different formulations of testosterone, including chemical structure diagrams and the pros and cons of each formulation.

New as of 8/20/2013

NeutroisNonsense:  I surprised myself the other day by finding out I hadn’t already added this blog, written by my friend Micah.  Micah’s beginning to make a name around non-binary identities, asexuality and non-binary transitioning.  Micah is one of my favorite people and has a lot of really smart, informative things to say about gender, identity and talks about the challenges and rewards of navigating through a binary world as a non-binary person.  One of my trans* heroes,

Learning How To Tell You, BD Swain:  This is a butch erotic blog after my own heart (or maybe somewhere lower).  BD joins Sinclair Sexsmith and I in the very rare world of butch erotic writers and does it with pants tightening style.  ”My name is BD Swain. I’m a butch dyke who enjoys writing queer smut – not just because it’s fun, but because sex and pushing my sexual expression is what makes me feel most alive. I am turned on by trust and by pushing the boundaries of it.”

New as of 4/12/2013

ButchOnTap: blogger Butch Jaxon says, “I see the world in a particular way. This blog is about how I see the world, both the good stuff (like beer) and the bad stuff (like idiots), but hopefully always funny.” Though I don’t always see eye to to eye with this blogger on all things butch, that hardly matters because it’s a big enough definition for all of us.  This blogger has had a couple of articles on HuffPost (look for Tristan Higgins), will probably have more in the future, and is definitely a Butch to Watch Out For.

LGinDC:  formerly the blogger known as G, of Can I Help You Sir, now in DC finding her way amongst the monuments and government entities, here’s what she has to say about herself and the blog, “I’m tall. I’m a smart-ass. I like eating with chopsticks. I’m butch. I love the Chicago Cubs and Bears. I’ve broken my nose twice. I love animals. I look horrible in yellow. I’m engaged. I love bourbon. I’m equally enamored with Beyonce and Ron Swanson. I’ll try just about anything once. I’m Irish. I live in Washington, DC. I’m a Scorpio. And I write about things.”

Genderqueer Pie Please:  [no updates since 12/2013] blogger Jake Jacobsen says, “Genderqueer isn’t a new movement, it isn’t even a movement, or new, it’s been around a long, long time, as long as I can remember. Ways of being “out”, seen, heard, and conceptualized are continuously being created through our use of language, and not just by the so called sexual minority, but by everyone. Genderqueer is one of those fairly recent creative wordage attempts at redefining a lived experience of gender that is a reality for a portion of the population.”

The Brown Boi Project is a community of masculine of center womyn, men, two-spirit people, transmen, and our allies committed to transforming our privilege of masculinity, gender, and race into tools for achieving Racial and Gender Justice.  These are great, energetic, dynamic people who are dedicated to their mission.  If this is of interest to you, check out their website and get involved.

New as of 5/16/2012

Trans Vocals: [inactive] I’m glad to see my friend, Holden, is coming back to the blog-o-sphere.  He’s got a new blog, Trans Vocals, and will be talking about his transformation and transition.  I’m very happy to see this thoughtful, intelligent person generously offering to share his insights and progress with the rest of us.

New as of 05/12/2011

fuckyeahbutches: this is a tumblr on the theme of butches, from Jenny Shimizu, to old school butches to butches like, well, me.  Check it out for eye-candy or for images of people who remind you of you and your friends.

Butch Wonders:  this blog shows great promise with posts pondering the potential adverse effects of wearing a tie to interviews, defending her choice to wax and shave, and a great post on Butch Buddies.

New as of 04/19/2011

thoughts ON: [last post 12/2013] blogger Andy posted on the topic of being trans, but not enough to transition, for more on Andy’s thoughts on this ‘middleground’, read I AM trans.  I just don’t try very hard.  From Andy’s bio:   Andy is a recent college graduate living in New England. When not engaged in queer activism Andy spends a lot of time kayaking, reading, and trying to change the world with a combination of twitter, church, and positive thinking while trying to decide on future plans which may, or may not, include ministry; but that’s the direction things are leaning right now.  Andy works for various LGBTQ organizations and loves them all dearly.

(L)earned Masculinity:  [last post 7/2012] this blogger used to post on a blog called Break it Down, Butch, but recently transitioned to this new space, acknowledging his passage from butch identified to trans identified.  Add this one to your readers and follow DK on their journey down the genderbrick road.  DK’s about page contains this line, one of my favorites found in anyone’s biography:  My soul is blue and smells faintly of cedar.

Debonairgeek:   I’m a nice guy. I am just trying to find my voice.  Em wrote a post called,Deep Thoughts, talking about being butch and genderqueer and I really relate to almost all of what they’re saying.  And, if you’ve ever wondered when and how to ‘pop your collar’ (and even if you haven’t), you should read this:  entertaining, informative, funny.

MTF Butches (tumblr): This tumblr was inspired by the existence of other amazing tumblrs such as Fuck Yeah Cute Trans Chicks, Fuck Yeah FTMs, Femme FTM, as well as others. This page is meant to provide an additional empowering space for the multitude of trans* gender expressions.  This is an inclusive space for the celebration of all butch, futch, butch-femme switches, grrls, genderqueer, genderfluid and other likewise MTF spectrum folk out there! Let’s represent some butch trans women!

Fuck Yeah FTMs (tumblr): Tumblr dedicated to FTMs, genderqueers, and others along that spectrum.  Submissions are accepted, but moderated and you should follow the theme of the day:  Muscle Mondays, Topless Tuesdays, We Wednesdays, Underwear Fridays, Fuzzy Sundays.  Check the submission link for more information and guidelines.

New as of 01/25/2011

Gendercast:  Our Transmasculine Genderqueery:  Podcasts hosted by Sean Leao and Jessie.  So far there are two podcasts, plus audio biographies from the hosts.  Gendercast is a podcast looking to build community and we are encouraging participation at every turn.  We speak to the entire transmasculine community, including genderqueer identified and beyond and of course, those who love them!

A Butch in the Kitchen.  This blog gets into the nitty gritty of cooking butch with recipes, techniques and even some kitchen gear for the butch kitchen queer. She says she’s a novice but I’ll be her skills are just ready to be discovered.  So far there are two recipes up:  Cherry cobbler and ice cream bread.  As a Butch Baker, I’m intrigued by these, but also looking forward to ideas in the appetizers and main courses categories.  Butch in the Kitchen has a list of other food sites to check out and will also take submissions of recipes and photos from other cooks.  I’m also wondering if anyone’s doing a Butch Cocktails site… hmmm.. maybe there’s a market for that.  Follow this butch on twitter, as Butchndakitchen.

New as of 1/12/2011

Mixing it Up, JizLee.com:  Genderqueer porn star, certifiably sexy individual, Jiz Lee says this about their blog — It’s a website and blog I run as a vehicle to share my experiences of sex and gender, film and photography. I hope it can provide a resource to queers and allies out there interested in my projects or wanting to find someone like themselves represented in the work I do and the ideas I express. Follow Jiz on twitter, check out their performances in the Crash Pad Series, the movie Champion and anywhere else you can.  My personal connection is fleeting but squee worthy:  I met Jiz at the New York City Sex Bloggers Calendar party in 2009 and mentioned I had this blog.. which Jiz totally knew about “Oh! You’re Kyle!” *hug* .. but that’s not all, Roxy introduced herself and got a very long,  full body hug.  I think that means Jiz approves of my taste in women

New as of 12/29/2010:

ButchLab:  Sinclair Sexsmith’s latest contribution to the community:  The mission of the Butch Lab Project is to promote a greater understanding of masculine of center gender identities, expressions, and presentations, through encouraging: 1. visibility, because we feel alone; 2. solidarity, because there are many of us out there, but we don’t always communicate with each other; and 3. an elevation of the discussion, because we have a long history and lineage to explore and we don’t have to reinvent the wheel.  Follow @butchlab on twitter as well.

On Being Butch:  a very new and shiny butch-oriented blog by J-Rob, “I’ve only recently come to realize that butch is my gender, not just a role I play, and that has opened a lot of space for me to be who I am.  Again, it’s odd, I’m 33 and I have been who I am my whole life, but I’m only just starting to understand what “who I am” actually means.”

Butch.org:  by Jenni Olson, director of e-commerce at WolfeVideo.com and an LBGT queer cinema historian.  Author of The Queer Movie Poster Book (2005, Chronicle Books), Jenni was also one of the founders of PlanetOut.com where she established the massive queer film industry resource, PopcornQ. She continues to write about queer films, as well as curating, collecting, and creating them. Her feature debut, The Joy of Life is now available on DVD.

Added 11/16/2010

Lesbian Neurotica, by Ulla, a butch dyke in South Africa who writes and draws cartoons and leaves thoughtful comments on a lot of the blogs I read.

Added 10/12/2010

A Stranger in This Place, by Wendi, who describes herself as “a motorcycle riding butch lesbian, retired accountant turned photographer and writer searching for her purpose in life and learning to enjoy the ride.”  Wendi’s working on a book and participated in the Gender/Queer Spoken Word event for BV PDX on Sunday.  I’m looking forward to reading more from Wendi.

Words of a Boi, by Jessie.  This writer read something written during Sinclair’s writing workshop that stuck with me.. so much so that I instantly recognized it when I saw it on their blog a few days later.   It’s a beautiful work of prosecomparing gender to a flower.   This writer uses poetry, wonderful imagery and an openness that is very engaging.

Added 8/2/2010

Andi HB’s blog.  Andi is a butch I met through twitter and another person who met and fell in love with someone through twitter (hey hey, Missy).  Yes, the west coast butch fell for the Nawlins femme…  can’t wait to see the Disney version.  Andi’s a fan of all things Irish, the New Orleans Saints and, of course, Missy.  Her latest post featured a damn fine pair of butch shoes.  You can follow her on twitter as @andi_hb.

bracketabracket:  [a] is a new blogger, just discovering the world of butch, trans, genderqueer, poly, BDSM blogs, since mid-june ’10, has been offering insights and stories of his own.  Check out [a]‘s blog for posts about Transgender issues, BDSM and kink, Sex, Love, Relationships, Theater, Art, Politics.

Added 6/25/2010

Bron’s blog, Duct Tape Tomatoes, is new since May of this year, but already has me pulled in with her charm and honesty.  I really, really love reading stories about people becoming themselves, it’s not only inspiring, it refuels me.   The latest one that I really loved was The Manicure… butch gets mani/pedi, freezes at nail polish choices and plays Mario Brothers with new little brother.

Dear Diaspora isn’t a new blog, and a lot of you probably already read it, but I’m new to S. L. Bond’s view of the world.  And that view, as communicated on DD is that of a Jewish Dyke and art student living in New Mexico.

Bee Listy is another blogger who’s been at it a while, Bee is a crafty, savvy butch who writes on a variety of topics.  One post that really struck home with me recently was You know what’s awesome?, where Bee speaks of her frustration over the Butch-Trans border wars and wonders why some people don’t think there’s enough masculinity to go around for all those who want to claim it.  Bee tweets as Beelisty.

Original list

Sugarbutch Chronicles:  my gateway into the world of butch blogging and one of the most popular blogs around.  Sinclair Sexsmith’s blog is your guide to sex toys, gender awareness and butch sexuality.  After stalking Sinclair through blog posts and twitter for a long time, was happy to finally meet her in person at the New York Sex Bloggers Calendar Party last November.  Over two years ago, when I discovered Sugarbutch Chronicles, what first caught my attention was the idea of butch erotic writing, which eventually led to the existence of Butchtastic.  Sinclair lent support, practical advice and encouragement and has been a great source of inspiration.  Sinclair tweets as @mrsexsmith.

Packing Vocals:  Holden is one of my favorite butch erotic writers, a family guy, a snappy dresser and a good friend.  Married to one of my favorite femmes, Femmeismygender, Holden tweets as @packingvocals.

NattNightly:  Natt isn’t blogging as much anymore, but if you love beautiful writing and honest accounts of self-discovery and gender, it’s worth your time to read through the archives.  I’ve been moved to tears more than once, from the sheer painful rawness of some stories and also from a severe case of writer’s envy.  Having met and spent time with this super cool, super smart butch, I can say without question, Natt is very tall and is a lot of fun to hang out with.   Natt tweets as @nattnightly.

Just Like Jesse James:  This Seattle butch is an unabashed Cher fan and will also discourse at length on the virtues of the Golden Girls, if you just give her half a chance.  Jesse blogs about Cher, life with her girlfriend and dog and the various other critters who inhabit their lives.  Another blogger I’ve had the good fortune to meet and hang out with in real life, we live close enough to do it again, and we’re gonna, so watch out world.   Jesse James tweets as @justjessejames.

Mina Meow/Aiden Fyre:  Depending on when you meet this blogger you might think.. “Wow, hot femme” or “Mmmgrrr, who’s that sexy boi?” and you wouldn’t be wrong either way.  Mina/Aiden is exploring gender thoroughly and with the kind of bravery, poise and intelligence we all should aspire to.  This blogger writes about gender, sexual politics and how it all fits into the life of a “try-sexual”.  I count it as one of the high points of my life that I’ve shared a deep passionate kiss with this hot and sexy blogger (and watched a make-out session with my girlfriend — yes, you should envy me).  Follow on twitter as @aidenfyreand/or @minameow.

Butch GirlCat:  Leo McCool isn’t blogging anymore but he was one of the first butch bloggers I gravitated to and fell in love with.  Leo’s sometimes heart-wrenchingly honest stories about love, relationships and the journey to find his gender home are a must read for anyone else trying to find their way between the gender poles.

X-Ray Introductions:  I first became aware of Arron when he was my secret Santa recipient and I sent him a cool metal studded belt and belt buckle.  I finally met Arron during a visit to see Roxy in San Francisco.  Over the years, I’ve enjoyed Arron’s video product reviews and stories about life.  Arron tweets as @amok_.

The Freezing Flames:  Firebolt is a genderqueer youth living in India, dealing with the challenges of a family that doesn’t get it in a society that really doesn’t get it.  Firebolt is way ahead of where I was at that age, and living under much more trying circumstances, and has my unswerving admiration as a result. Tweets as @fireboltx.

Bren Ryder:  Bren is the butch creative genius behind GoodDykePorn and as such, deserves our unending gratitude.   Bren works hard to produce real, hot, queer porn with real queers.   Bren is someone I know I’ll get to meet someday in RL, and I’m really looking forward to that.  Bren tweets as @brenryder.

Jess I Am:  Jess is courageous, thoughtful and honest in telling the story of how he went from being a butch to a transman.  Life has handed him a lot of challenges in the past couple of years, but with his wife, Tina, at his side, he’s handled those challenges with grace and strength.  I almost had the privilege of meeting these two during my trip to NYC, but it didn’t work out, but I have a very strong feeling we’ll all meet up at some point in RL.  Jess tweets as @JessIAmBlog.

How to Be Butch:  One of the newer blogs on my reader, Harrison doesn’t really try to tell you how to be butch, because, as the banner says “There’s more than one way”.  Instead, you get some fun and insightful posts on Harrison’s exploration of butchness and gender and life.    Harrison tweets as @HarrisonTB.

Sartorial Butch:  A blog about butch fashion, the culinary arts and all around butch goodness.  Another of my newer blog habits, SartorialButch is now featured on Butch-Femme.com and tweets as @SartorialButch.

She Called Me Superman:  Yondergen’s blog tagline is “writing myself down so I can be found, or followed” and that’s really the goal of most of us who blog, isn’t it?  Yondergen explores the butch-masculine-queer gender mix that is the heart of the matter for me as well.  Plus baking, relationships, the quandaries of how to express and understand it all.

Musings from the High Speed Rodeo:  Rhett’s writing is rapid and rhythmic, filled with great observations, honesty and humor.  Rhett is the Asphalt Cowboy, go on over there, y’all, you’re in for a great ride.

Can I Help You, Sir?:  Going by the initial, G, this butch blogs about gender, butchness and identity.  G tweets as @canihelpyousir and has (had?) a regular feature called the Swoon List.

Lesbian Dad:  I’ve had the Lesbian Dad on my reader for a long time.  LD writes about her family, posts the sweetest pictures of her daughter and son and talks about parenting, politics and popular culture.  My Suburban Butch Dad Reports were inspired by the Lesbian Dad.   Follow her tweets @LesbianDad.

The Butchelor:  another brave, honest blog from the perspective of a butch lesbian starting to come out as trans.  Even though I’m not trans, I find myself relating to guys like this who are born in a body that doesn’t completely match who they are on the inside.   It’s personal, it’s real, you should check it out.  Tweets as @thebutchelor.

Break It Down, Butch:  a blog I’ve discovered recently written by a butch who isn’t afraid to get it all out there.  I appreciate the passion and honesty of this blogger and look forward to reading more.

Transitional Life (Life in Transition):  Emmett takes us on his journey from butch to trans complete with family drama, changes brought on by testosterone, new names and the other challenges of life.  Emmett is a lovely guy, wonderful with animals (he’s a vet tech) and people (especially kids, kids love him) and I wish him all the best as he continues on his journey.  He’s got a YouTube channel, labradork1 where he’s been tracking the changes brought on by his transition.  Emmett tweets as @friendtopups.

Butch Boo:  BB is one of my earliest readers, a Brit Butch Blogger in London who recently posted a lovely grouping of pictures featuring butch footwear.

A Gender Queer View:  Natasha Yar-Routh’s place on the web.  A married gender queer trans-woman who posts short little nuggets of political observation and thoughts on life.  Tweets as @xiomberg.

Gender Me Softly:  The only couple-authored blog on my list, this blog is brand new, they just started this month.  T. J.  and Rhylee Flint share love, lives and blog space.  Thad is a butch, likes the word ‘queer’ (so do I) and enjoys cultivating a masculine look through binding and packing.  Rhylee is a queer female who’s exploring her gender and gender expression from a more femme perspective.

Gender Outlaw:  this is a blog chronicling Joshua Riverdale’s  FTM journey.  Even though transitioning isn’t for me, I’ve learned a lot from his blog entries, videos and tweets, and appreciate his wit and intelligence.  If you are curious about transitioning, or looking for genderqueer related resources (think binding, packing, etc), consider this blog and his website, transguys.com, as great starting points for the personal stories and resources.  He’s got some of the best sideburns ever.. I’m totally having some envy over those.  Josh tweets as @transguys.

Genderfork:  this is a community blog, who’s mission is to support community for the expression of identities across the gender spectrum.  They tweet as @genderfork and post profiles of genderqueer/fluid/variant folks.

Get Off My Lawn:  wow.. now that’s a pretty grumpy blog title.  Read the About Me and see a lot of bullet points.. this blogger loves bullet points, and was highly influenced by popular culture icons such as Matlock, Hank Hill and Mulder and Scully.  As grumpy as the blog title is, I find this blogger highly amusing and fun to read, go check it out and see if you feel the same way.  Tweets as @benjamin_bex.

Just a Big Guy with a Fun Sense of Sin:  S. Bear Bergman’s Live Journal.  I got to see Bear on a book reading tour with Ivan Coyote, and bought his book “The Nearest Exit May be Behind You” that night.  Bear is a transman, new father and a gifted story teller.  Bear tweets as @sbearbergman.

Visibly Transparent:  Bear’s husband, Ishai, has a Live Journal as well.  He carried their son Stanley and I can relate to his stories about the fertility clinic, pregnancy, birth and parenting.

Love Kills Slowly (tumblr):  tumblr account of Val, known on twitter as @rugby8.  Val posts pictures of sexy women, and the occasional quote.

somewhere in the middle:  Nezu says it best “This is my place for looking at the middle ground of gender identity and sexual preference. And who knows, probably other stuff, too.”  I’ve just begun to explore this writer’s musings about butchness, gender, identity and relationships.

TG Stone Butch Journal:   Corey Alexander is a well-known queer kink/sex educator and writer.  He can be found all over the country at conferences teaching and speaking on topics as diverse as polyamory, butch faggot play, stone sexuality and a myriad of other topics around gender and sexuality.  Corey tweets as @tgstonebutch, look for his queer BDSM erotica under the nom de plum, Xan West.

The Man Sam:  Son of T:  Former female Sam Peterson tells all in this blog about transition.  Looking forward to his chest reconstruction surgery thanks to ChestFest2010, Matt is wonderfully honest, funny and self-deprecating — a combination I particularly enjoy.  Follow him on twitter as @ThaManSam.

Transfaggotry:  Faggot Boi blogs about pronoun anxiety, leaving the lesbian identity behind, and other topics around becoming trans.

Transifesto:  Matt Kailey’s place on the web.  Matt shares information and his thoughts on transgender and transsexual issues.  He’s a nationally recognized speaker and author on transgender issues and tweets as @MattKailey.

Androgynanomous: DPR (Dread Pirate Roberts) is the sweetheart of one of my favorite online people, Scintillectual.  DPR just started blogging not long ago, but has already established a rhythm with poetry, musings on gender and sweet, sensual tributes to her lover.  Tweets as @dread_pyrate.

butchboi:  this site is run by the infamous Leo, of the Big Pink House.  This is a site for cruising and networking, for those who identify as butch, boi, trans, gender queer, stud, drag king & their friends.  The free membership opens up some features: forums, events and cruising, videos and a chatroom.  The Cruising feature is fun, you can hone in your search by age, geography with more features available to subscribers.  Check out the tweets from @ButchBoiLeo and @ButchBoi and@BigPinkHouse to keep up with the ButchBoi happenins.

This is the list so far, I like the length and heft of it (heh!) and I really like the diversity.  The bloggers on this list have a stories to tell, experiences to share and I will continue to learn a lot from them.  The breadth of this group, from the more female identified butch to the more male identified trans, meet the needs I have to explore the many facets and identities within me.  There are some super smart people on this list, and funny too… great writers, open-hearted honest people, sometimes frustrated, but trying to make the world a better place for themselves and others.   It may be hubris on my part to count myself as one of them, but these people have nurtured, coached and supported my journey as well.  Even if we don’t make the same decisions, or come to the same conclusions, we’re all asking the same kind of questions, and questioning the same assumptions.

I encourage you to visit these blogs, read their stories and add them to your regular rotation if they appeal to you.  And if I’ve left someone out, someone you think would fit into this list, please be so kind as to introduce me to them.

SOURCE

#genderfluid tag