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Men Shirts Market trends, and forecasts from 2024 to 2034
The Men Shirts market report offered by Reports Intellect is meant to serve as a helpful means to evaluate the market together with an exhaustive scrutiny and crystal-clear statistics linked to this market. The report consists of the drivers and restraints of the Men Shirts Market accompanied by their impact on the demand over the forecast period. Additionally, the report includes the study of prospects available in the market on a global level. With tables and figures helping evaluate the Global Men Shirts market, this research offers key statistics on the state of the industry and is a beneficial source of guidance and direction for companies and entities interested in the market. This report comes along with an additional Excel data-sheet suite taking quantitative data from all numeric forecasts offered in the study.
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Key players offered in the market: Heilan Home Youngor Lu Thai Textile Co.,Ltd Saint Angelo Seven Brand Roman Group Hodo JOEONE G2000 Goldlion Semir Giuseppe Septwolves
Additionally, it takes account of the prominent players of the Men Shirts market with insights including market share, product specifications, key strategies, contact details, and company profiles. Similarly, the report involves the market computed CAGR of the market created on previous records regarding the market and existing market trends accompanied by future developments. It also divulges the future impact of enforcing regulations and policies on the expansion of the Men Shirts Market.
Scope and Segmentation of the Men Shirts Market
The estimates for all segments including type and application/end-user have been provided on a regional basis for the forecast period from 2024 to 2034. We have applied a mix of bottom-up and top-down methods for market estimation, analyzing the crucial regional markets, dynamics, and trends for numerous applications. Moreover, the fastest & slowest growing market segments are pointed out in the study to give out significant insights into each core element of the market.
Men Shirts Market Type Coverage: - Cotton Men Shirts Polyester Men Shirts Linen Men Shirts Other Men Shirts
Men Shirts Market Application Coverage: - Leisure Business
Regional Analysis:
North America Country (United States, Canada) South America Asia Country (China, Japan, India, Korea) Europe Country (Germany, UK, France, Italy) Other Countries (Middle East, Africa, GCC)
Also, Get an updated forecast from 2024 to 2034.
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#Men Shirts Market#Men Shirts Market trends#Men Shirts Market future#Men Shirts Market size#Men Shirts Market growth#Men Shirts Market forecast#Men Shirts Market analysis
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So I saw that you said you can take specific marauder requests. How about reader is insecure but the guys don't know it and she goes out to buy clothes and new lingerie that she thinks they might like because in her head she thinks if she doesn't look like the girls she researched they will leave her for either just eachother or all the other girls in the school. So when they are getting into it sirius realizes that she has a new bra (you can make up the rest of the scenario but preferably after he finds out she has a new bra angst happens and then fluffy smut and then the very end in fluff please)
What are you wearing? // Poly!Marauders x Fem!Reader
Summary: The latest lingerie trend did not look comfortable in any way but you still fell for the marketing and purchased your own, assuming that the boys would want you to dress like everyone else. However, when you decided to show off your outfit to Sirius, his reaction is anything but positive as he sees how uncomfortable you are.
Requested by: Thank you for answering my beck and call for a specific Marauders idea, I hope you enjoy your request!
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst, fluff (lots), foursome, self-doubt/low self-esteem, anxiety, crying/breakdown, pet names, making out, Remus has words of wisdom, discussing emotions, romantic gestures (a little cheesy), nipple play, body worship, dirty talk, teasing, begging, oral sex, fingering, possessive behaviour, restraints, praise kink, daddy kink, size kink (!), creampie, rough sex
Words: 8k
my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link
It was the latest fashion, created by muggles to wear luxurious, expensive lingerie bodysuits that uncomfortably hugged curves and pushed your breasts into busty mounds that they unnaturally did not sit at. However from the whispers from other students as they secretly hide in corners, sharing magazines and boasting about which woman looked best in the underwear, it was what was the latest fashion and everyone seemed to be loving it. So despite the discomfort, despite the desire to itch your skin against the lace around your hips, you kept the lingerie under your uniform, hoping to surprise one of the boys throughout the day.
It wasn’t that you never wore nice underwear, usually, it was a simple lace bra that softly cupped your breasts, the material transparent enough that your areolas were visible and had your boyfriends dropping to their knees to beg at touching and worshipping your body.
But like previously mentioned, this new style of lingerie was apparently very in right now and you wanted to keep up with the latest trends, even more so to please Remus, James and Sirius. It was hard enough pleasing one boyfriend but three? It felt like endless pressure to keep up, even though you knew that feeling was only from the little devil on your shoulder, the one that spouted negative thoughts that you were never enough.
It was nothing on behalf of your boyfriend’s to make you feel this way. In fact, they always went above and beyond to show you how much you were truly loved. But then that voice in the back of your mind would come back, reminding you that they were the most popular men in school, had endless other students lusting over them and it felt like you were competing, even though you already had the prize.
So this was why you had decided to splash the cash on the expensive muggle lingerie and hide it beneath your uniform, hoping to keep the relationship exciting and alive with the hopes that one of your boyfriends would pull you into a spare cupboard and find the present beneath your button up shirt.
This came in the shape of Sirius Black who promptly entwined your fingers together after class, carrying both your bag and his on his shoulder and tugging you down a deserted corridor and into a dusty, dimly light classroom. Sirius may have come across to others as coming from a pure-blooded family and always pristinely dressed, but beneath all of that was his rebellious side. The part of him that wanted it dirty and rough and everything that didn’t match his exterior.
He dropped the bags onto the floor, causing a cloud of dust to waft into the air but that didn’t stop his movements as he pulled you further into the room, not even bothering to lock the door, another one of his little ‘Sirius’ things, loving the thought of being caught. As usual, your adrenaline was pumping through your veins, feeling giddy and ready to do whatever Sirius wanted, just needing to be close to him, to feel his hands on your body, his lips against your skin.
“Come here Darling, up on top”, Sirius patted the sizeable oak desk that was in the centre of the room, even bothering to wipe his hand across to create an area that was without dust, the perfect area for you to come and sit on.
Jumping up with the help of Sirius’ big hands on your waist, you sat on the edge of the desk, your skirt hiking up slightly so that the brisk wood nipped against the backs of your thighs. This didn’t stop you from spreading them, making room for your boyfriend as he slide his hands to cup your cheek.
Sirius’ citrus scent from his hair caressed your cheeks as he leaned down to capture your lips, urgent and devouring, leaving you breathless and grasping to hold onto his shirt. He had full control with his grip on your face, tilting your head so that he could deepen the kiss, tongue slipping into your open mouth, dancing to taste your spit.
A moan bubbled in the back of your throat as he moved his body closer, his crotch pushing against yours as your legs hooked around the back of his knees. You were thoroughly and utterly consumed by him, breathing in the air from his mouth, the taste and smell of him, his warmth seeping into your skin. There was one thing you would never deny and that was how consumed you were by him, by each of your boyfriends, you had been since day one.
Sirius released his hold on your face with one hand but only because he needed to touch your skin, squeezing the soft area of your thigh and stroking up, further pushing your skirt to reveal the entire length of your leg. He didn’t stop though, exploring with a firm touch over your skirt and beneath the hem of your shirt, with the intent to pull your hips closer to rub his tented crotch harder against yours.
But then he suddenly froze, lips unmoving and a confused frown evidently etched into his handsome features as he pulled away to look down at where his fingers were feeling a strange material under your clothes.
You’d forgotten about your plan, through the lust-filled kisses and touches, it had slipped your mind what you were wearing.
Before Sirius could verbally ask what it was that he was feeling, you quickly beat him to it by breathlessly explaining, “I had a surprise”. With the adrenaline still pumping through your body, your fingers were shaking delicately as you removed your tie and unbuttoned your shirt, pushing the white material off of your shoulders, revealing the majority of the lingerie bodysuit.
Looking up at him through your eyelashes, attempting to look seductive whilst further pushing your elbows underneath your already pushed-up breasts.
You weren’t sure exactly what reaction you were expecting, maybe a horny curse or a hunger search of your body with his eyes, but you certainly weren’t expecting him to ask in a disdained tone, “What are you wearing?”
Sirius lifted the hand that had been resting on your hip, up to the tight material on your chest, trying to slip his finger between your breast and the lingerie but unable to do so with how tight and uncomfortable the bodysuit was.
“I thought you’d like it”, you say earnestly, trying to keep the simmering panic at bay that was beginning to pound into your heart. Sirius’ confusion only increased as the line between his furrowed brows deepened, a single step back to put some distance between the two of you, your legs dropping to dangle over the edge of the desk again as he looked over what you were wearing.
“Why would you wear something like that? Are you even comfortable in it?” he asks with a hint of distaste, something you hadn’t anticipated for him to sound like at all.
You begin to stutter over your words, losing the confident seduction you’d been attempting to play off. “It’s…it’s not supposed rt to be comfortable, I wanted to look nice for you”.
This response only seemed to further upset Sirius as his eyes refused to meet yours, remaining only on the extravagant lingerie. “But you always look nice, you didn’t have to do this!” The rise of his voice startled you enough to quickly shrug the shirt back up your arms, crossing the material across your chest so that you were covered once more. Sirius finally snapped out of his upset to look into your eyes, the frown relaxing a touch so that he could slowly explain, “Sweetheart, you know you don’t have to dress a certain way to impress me, you know that”.
Embarrassment pooled in your stomach causing you to feel burning hot and slightly nauseous. Of all the reactions you expected, it wasn’t this. Yes, you may be dressing completely out of your comfort zone and only doing it to make the boys happy but you had to make an effort and this was the only way you thought how.
You tried to keep your voice from wavering as you explained, “Yes, but I just wanted to make a little bit of an effort. Anyway, everyone else has been wearing this sort of thing or enjoying the look of it. And I just thought you wouldn’t-”, your mouth slammed shut with an audible snap as you tried to keep the truth spilling from your lips.
Tears were beginning to line the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill over as you hastily began to fasten the buttons on your shirt, eyes on your fingers and not daring to look up at your boyfriend.
You’d hoped that Sirius would let it go, the words and the bodysuit, maybe you could jump off the desk, find somewhere to remove the lingerie and it never be spoken about again. However, this of course was wishful thinking on your part as Sirius’ voice had dropped an octave as he asked, “I wouldn’t…what? Finish what you were about to say.”
Blatantly ignoring his questioning, you had finished buttoning your top, turning to look for the tie that you’d haphazardly discarded behind you on the desk but in the low lighting, it was hard to see, especially as the tears began to slip down your cheeks.
Sirius closed the gap between your bodies again, his hand gently cupping your jaw to tilt it in his direction, his eyes glazed in worry as he noticed your tears, quickly swiping them away with his thumb. “Tell me”, he encouraged but you could still hear the strain at the back of his throat.
It was like a dam opened within you, that small hope on the restraint that you had snapped. “That you wouldn’t be interested in me anymore if I didn’t try and keep up with the trends of what's hot. Or that if I didn’t try, you’d all think you’re missing out on something so yes, this bodysuit is a little uncomfortable but I just wanted to impress you all so you didn’t think I wasn’t attractive or that you’d fall out of love with me because someone else looked more sexy or was willing to dress in all of these stupid outfits! I just wanted to make you all happy ”.
There it was, the devil on your shoulder, speaking your inner-most demons, laid completely bare in front of you. Fear after fear spilt from your lips, once you’d started you couldn’t stop, even though you were becoming hysteric, the escalation of the situation was just making you freak out more. You were full-on sobbing by this point, tears dampening the collar of your shirt and shoulders hunched as you sucked in deep shattering breaths.
The walls felt too close, the air too thick. You needed to get out, need to get away from Sirius, not wanting to even look at him to see the disappointment you were sure covered his face. Using your body for momentum, you pushed him back as you jumped off of the desk and stepped towards the door.
However a gentle but firm hand wrapped around your shoulder, halting your movements as Sirius’s concerned voice begged, “Please don’t go, we need to talk about this Darling”.
This wasn’t what you wanted right now, you didn’t want to talk, scared that your spiralling thoughts might be a reality, your consciousness being your worst enemy at that moment as you shrugged out of his grasp. “I just need a minute”. You sounded broken and another sob shook your shoulders as you didn’t look back. Not bothering to pick up your bag or find your lost tie you rushed out of the door, and the sick feeling in your stomach only increased when you heard Sirius yell and kick his frustrations out against a table as he let you walk away.
You weren’t entirely sure where you were going, keeping your head low so as to not have questioning looks as to why you were crying and scared you’d run into one of your friends or worse Remus or James. There were so many students in the corridors and you desperately needed an escape and ran in the direction of where there were only a limited amount of people as fresh air crisped against your wet cheeks as you rushed outside.
For a moment you contemplated sneaking to the shrieking shack, knowing that you could curl into a ball underneath the sheets of the master bed there but that would also be the first place that the boys checked other than the Gryffindor common room. Furthermore, you needed somewhere outside, need to feel the sun on your face and a sense of calm so you half jogged to one of your favourite spots in Hogwarts.
It was the one place you truly felt at peace and somewhere you’d stumbled upon once when exploring the Hogwarts grounds in your first year. A luscious green cliff edge that overlooked the lake and Scottish mountains and, what made it so special was that when the sun began to set, it was the perfect spot for the golden hour of beautiful sunshine. The very last piece of land that the sun-kissed before it disappeared over the mountains.
This was where you crumpled onto the grass, tucking your knees in close, hiding your face within them and wrapping your arms around tightly so you were now in a little ball. There you sat and you cried. For the embarrassment, anxiety-ridden and uncertainty as to what happened now. You didn’t want to go back to Hogwarts, maybe it was better if you just stayed in that little spot forever you contemplated dramatically.
You were unsure how much time had passed but the air was beginning to chill as the sun dropped further in the sky. There were no more tears, but your breaths were still ragged, your eyes sore as you looked across the lake, and your body trembling through exhaustion and still, above all of that, you couldn’t stop thinking about how uncomfortable the stupid bodysuit was under your uniform.
Footsteps suddenly crunched against the crisp grass and you tried not to stiffen at the unknown arrival. But with each step, you knew from the slight limp who exactly it was as Remus sat beside you, his legs crossed underneath him as you automatically moved your face to look away from him, not wanting him to see the mess you’d become.
“Don’t”, he insisted. “Don’t do that, don’t hide away from me, my love. Come here”, he encouraged, his heavy hand resting against your shoulder and tugging your body towards his. You succumb easily, releasing the grip around your knees so that you could lie your head against his lap, his hand remaining on your shoulder giving you warmth and comfort as his other hand stroked through your hair and he simply lets you cry.
Remus began to talk, lowly and calmly into your ear as he helped you through your overwhelming emotions. “It’s more than just the fancy underwear, isn’t it? Listen to me Love, we all have our insecurities that bubble away underneath our skin but we can’t let those negative thoughts win. We deserve happiness. YOU deserve happiness.”
Your sobs calmed down enough that you were just lightly hiccuping, not even bothering to wipe away your tears as his trousers absorbed the wetness. Remus lowered his head, to gently kiss the side of yours before he continued. “I know sometimes our minds are louder than our hearts so even if I tell you, how much I truly adore you, that sometimes you won’t comprehend how much it is true. But please, Sweetheart, understand that… you’re my family. You, Sirius and James. Without you three, I have no one and I don’t want you to think you’re anything else but my entire world. You could dress in the old linen from a house elf and I would still love everything about you. I don’t need you to be dressed in the latest fashion or clothes that are evidently uncomfortable. I want you to be happy, we ALL want you to be happy”.
Your heart was pounding for another reason now as you couldn’t bare to not be touching Remus, needing more than anything to show him how much you appreciated him, loved him with just as much passion as the words that he spoke. So without another word, you rushed to sit up and climb into his lap, straddling your thighs over his, shaking fingers cupping his scarred face to hold him still as you kissed him deeply.
It wasn’t like the same sort of passionate, devouring kiss with Sirius earlier in the day in that forgotten classroom. This was passionate in a way that the world began and ended with each other, that you need to show your love and appreciation with your lips where words would surely fail you. Remus was always the one to have the best advice, to be able to talk the others around when in a low mood, he just always seemed to know the exact right thing to say.
As both of your lungs burned for air, you pull from the kiss but only to lean your forehead against his, warm breath fanning across his face as he wiped away the stains of the tears, “I love you, Remus Lupin”.
“I love you too”.
The sun had now cascaded behind the mountains, leaving an orange hue in the sky as everywhere else began to fall into shadow. The air instantly cooled but you didn’t care, especially not with Remus who ran at a fevered temperature due to his lycanthropy. The two of you stayed like that until you felt comfortable enough to risk glancing over his shoulder, towards the lining of trees from the forbidden forest.
“They aren’t here”, Remus informed you, kissing your cheek gently and wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you closer.
You weren’t sure if you should be relieved or not at hearing that Sirius and James didn’t accompany Remus. “Where are they?”, you asked quietly, leaning your head against his shoulder, suddenly feeling exhausted after your breakdown.
Remus took more than a moment to answer like he was trying to decide how much he should tell you before finally deciding. “They’re both back in the dormitory, sorting out a little surprise for you”.
Your heart seemed to skip a beat, that they were doing something nice even after the way you’d spoken and reacted to Sirius. “I feel bad I stormed away from Sirius”, you admitted to Remus, pulling away from his shoulder to play with the end of his tie.
Remus offered you a shrug, “He’ll get over it. I think he was more upset that he didn’t know how to process that you weren’t comfortable and doing all of this for his benefit. And that he struggled to find the right words to say without sounding pissed off and couldn’t fix the situation before you left”.
You nod, risking a glance up towards Remus’ face and relieved to find him looking at you still in a relaxed way and you knew he really wasn’t annoyed like you thought he would be. “And James, is he ok?”
Remus nods, kissing the tip of your nose and pulling a smile from your lips, “He’s hurt like Sirius and I, that you’d been feeling this way without speaking to us, he wanted to fly down here as soon as Sirius found us but I knew you needed some time to yourself”.
“Thank you”. You hoped that he understood that you were saying that for more than one reason, for everything and by the twinkle returning to his eyes, the life that was sparking once more as he pecked your lips gently, you knew he understood.
“Come on, let’s not leave them any longer”.
Remus helped you to stand and the two of you took a leisurely stroll, hand in hand, back up to the castle, you’d missed dinner but Remus insisted that he’d go and get you something to eat after your surprise.
The surprise was entirely romantic and your chest warmed with love as you looked at the dormitory that you shared with the boys. There were different-shaped candles floating around the room, Remus’ record player in the corner at a low volume with the latest Bowie track that the boys loved and rose petals were scattered across the floor and freshly made bed but the petals had been enchanted to change colour and shimmer in the candlelight.
A sweet, thankful gasp was just about to spill from your lips but it was quickly replaced with a shocked laugh, your hand covering your mouth to hide your grin as Sirius and James stepped out of the bathroom. They were completely nude, except for the black lacy tight underwear that hardly covered their genitals, and nicely tied off with a pretty pink bow over where their cocks were.
The two of them stood proudly, abs tense to show off and flex as much as possible, a wide stance and arms behind their backs as they both grinned cheekily at you. “What…? What are you both wearing?!” you couldn’t help but giggle as you stepped closer and out of Remus’ reach, only for him to start taking off his clothes too.
You turned to watch, eyes wide as he too was wearing the skimpy underwear that seemed to hardly be covering him at all with his cock at half-mast. “Wait, have you had them on this entire time?” you asked dumbfoundedly, trying not to stare at the ridiculousness of the tiny little outfits.
“Oh I have indeed, can’t tell you how far they’ve been wedged up my arse but beauty is pain right?” he joked, subtly trying to pull the material from between his cheeks to relieve the tightness there.
You watched as Remus brushed past to stand next to Sirius who now stood in the middle of him and James, his grin softening to a knowing smile as you also moved closer to them. Once you were close enough did he tip your chin back, “Do you only love us more because of these outfits? Or would you say you loved us regardless of what we are wearing”.
The penny dropped as you now realised why they were wearing the uncomfortable-looking, ridiculously scandalous underwear. Your shoulders dropped in defeat, giving him a knowing look as you shook your head no. “Exactly. This is how we feel for you, I don’t want you to shut us out again or doubt our feelings for you. If you ever have a thought like this again, I need you to come to us, and talk because that's healthy and normal in relationships. Don’t bottle it up and don’t shut us out and please, don’t walk away from me again, I couldn’t bare it”.
You reached up to take his hand, moving it from your chin to nuzzle your cheek into it, kissing his palm as you promised, “I won’t do it again, I’m sorry I did all of those things and made you all worry. I love you, everything about you, without the outfits”, you emphasise with a smile. “They don’t look comfortable at all”, you say with a giggle, noticing James trying to give his cock more room in the confinement of the lingerie.
“Think I’ve got as much room as your tits which reminds me, we need to release them from their prison!”, Sirius joked, his fingers reaching to begin unbuttoning your shirt and then pushing it over your shoulders.
Remus stepped up behind you, his naked back flush against yours, “oh Pup, this doesn’t look comfortable at all”, he chastised in a low voice, beginning to unzip you from behind. The relief was immediate as Sirius helped him by pushing the loosened straps from your shoulders and you audibly sighed as the warm air kissed your now exposed breasts.
“There are my girls”, Sirius mumbled, his thumb brushing against the nipple of your right breast causing it to pebble before his mouth dropped to lick and suck on the sensitive bud. Before you could properly lean into the touch, James’ tuft of hair was soon at the same level as Sirius's as he did the same to your left nipple, suckling it into his mouth before flattening his tongue against it. Your back arched, hands delving into both men’s soft hair, gripping and holding them close as arousal struck through your core.
The remainder of your clothes soon pooled around your feet on the floor, Remus even helping to unbuckle your shoes until you were left in nothing but your white frilly socks as Remus had effortlessly removed the rest of the lingerie and skirt.
The moments like this, when they were so doting and loving that you almost felt overwhelmed because you wanted to return that love and affection to all of them at the same time but with only two hands, it was challenging to do. So you decided to concentrate on the two boys attached to your front, who were nipping and teasing your tender nipples, sucking them into peaks before laying them flat with the push of their tongues.
The grip you held on their hair reluctantly relaxed and tried to do a different exploration, over their shoulders, feeling this leanness of James and the muscles of Sirius from where he trained as Beater for the quidditch team. Lower still your nimble fingers travelled to their chests, feeling the sprinkling of hair that curled over their pecks and then still further down with the goal to reach the hem of their underwear. However, in the position, you could only react to James who seemed to realise your goal and pushed his body more towards yours.
Your fingertips ran along the hem of the tight underwear and then halted as James shuddered under the touch as you stroked over his tip that had bulged out as he became increasingly harder with nowhere else to go. As you teased his tip, James began to kiss up your body, particularly over the indents over your chest from where the bodysuit had pushed your breasts up, and he didn’t stop until he was next to your ear, still needing to bend down because of the height difference.
James did not move with urgency, even though his hips were bucking under the tease of your fingers. With one cupping your jaw, tilting your face away and the other hand gripping onto your waist, James began to kiss along the column of your neck, over the sensitive little spots that had your knees weak and more heat pooling in between your legs.
Remus on the other hand now stood next to you, his fingers stroking down your jaw to grasp your attention which you gave him, looking up at him with wide eyes and bottom lip stuck between your teeth. “I want you to listen to me carefully ok? There will be no rushing tonight, our goal is to please YOU, and only you. I want to hear every little moan and cry that you have so there’s no need to bite your lip, my love. I want this pretty mouth open and begging for more, do you understand?”
You couldn’t think of words that made any sense like a thick warm blanket of fuzzy arousal clouded your thoughts so all you could respond to Remus was a desperate nod of the head and a throaty moan.
“Good. Now tell me, just before we start. Who do you belong to?”
James and Sirius stopped the teasing with their mouths so that they could hear you answer, needing to hear it, for their own sanity and possessive natures.
“You, I belong to all of you”, you breathlessly answered, still looking up into Remus’ green eyes that always reminded you of spring, hypnotised completely by him.
“That’s right”, he praised delicately still stroking down the side of your face. “And, who do we belong to?”
“Me”, your answer was quieter, heart pounding at having to say it out loud as you knew that he was only getting you to say it to remind you that your freakout today was unwarranted and you should always know that they’re yours.
Remus tilted an eyebrow up, his hair falling slightly over his eyes as he didn’t seem satisfied with the answer. “Excuse me, I didn’t quite hear that”.
You refrained from huffing in embarrassment as you repeated yourself at a louder volume, “You all belong to me, to each other”.
This was the answer he was looking for as his lips curled into a gentle smile and then opened as he was going to continue talking but James seemed to snap hearing those words as the hand on your jaw pushed your body backwards, the other on your waist supporting your body so that you didn’t trip over. The back of your knees met that bed and the two of you toppled onto the soft, rose-petaled surface.
“I couldn’t wait anymore, need to feel you, taste you, want to make you mine”, James groaned against the shell of your ear as he finally turned your face enough that his lips found yours in a hungry, lust-filled kiss.
Behind the two of you, you were able to hear Sirius and Remus chuckling deeply at James’ frantic motions and then they were moving closer and sitting on either side of the bed, taking a hand of yours each into theirs. A way to stay close to you but also restrain you in a way so that James was fully in control and the pleasure was solely on you.
The Gryffindor’s seeker’s tongue brushed against yours, tasting and dominating the dance happening in your mouth, his body sliding between your thighs so that you could feel the scratch of the uncomfortable underwear that he was still forcing himself to wear against the sensitive skin of your thighs. His hand's hand began to lower, the wide expanse of his hands meaning that he was able to feel a vast area of your body at once, over your collarbones, your breasts, squeezing softly, a contrasting touch from his commanding mouth.
Over your hips, your thighs, tucking them in closer around his waist. Finally, he pulled away from your mouth, his glasses slipping down his nose as hot breaths being shared as you both desperately tried to breathe but it was mostly so he could tell you his contemplative thoughts. “I don’t know whether to let you ride my fingers or taste you”.
Your pussy clenched around nothing at his words, not being able to decide an answer for him but thankfully Sirius pipped up and offered the idea, “Why not both?”
James grinned, pecking your lips before glancing towards Sirius, “Good idea, Padfoot”.
Then his warmth crowding around your chest was gone as he quickly backed away and lay on his stomach at the bottom of the bed, his face now between his legs and hands pushing back your thighs until once again, Sirius and Remus took one each so that you were fully restrained.
“Such a pretty pussy, MY pretty pussy”, James admired as he began to spread your juices that were seeping through your folds, over the rest of your cunt. With one hand, he spread back your labia so that you were bare before him, he could see the subtle throb of your clit and the clench of your pussy, gleaming in the low candlelight from your wetness.
James licked a long strip from your perineum, over your hole and up to your clit, audibly swallowing your juices and moaning, and then there was no holding him back. If he wasn’t sucking your clit then he was pushing his thick tongue into your hole, exploring the tensing area. And then he was adding two of his fingers, rocking in and out in time with the circling of his tongue around your clit.
You were very quickly descending into the pleasure and gave up on watching him as all you could do was lie back and moan, hands desperate to reach for him but still being held back by your two other boyfriends. So you lay there, mouth wide open and mewled and quivered, especially as he began to curl his fingers, teeth scraping over the bundle of nerves before carefully easing the touch with a warm lick of his tongue.
“Is Prongs making you feel good, Darling?” Sirius cooed down to you, squeezing your thigh to try and grasp your attention.
“Yes! So-...so good, please don’t stop”, you begged, eyes clothes and a withering mess as James increased his pace. That’s when you felt it, the tightening in your core that sent tingles over your pussy and thighs, that feeling that you craved every day to feel and one that the boys were always so good and making you experience. “I’m gonna cum, don’t stop, James please don’t stop”.
James didn’t plan on stopping as he watched your reactions from between your legs, expertly fingering and licking you, feeling your pussy clenching and tightening around his digits before you gasped, arched your back and fluttered and pulsed with your orgasm. You felt both heavy and light simultaneously as he didn’t slow down his motions until you collapsed back fully into the sheets again.
“You’re so beautiful like this, laid out beneath me. But, I think it’s time one of the other two has a go, what do you say Honey?” James asked still between your legs. Opening your glazed-over eyes, you looked down at him and nodded in response, but you were also sure that what he had to offer now you would have said yes too.
Remus leaned down so that his lips danced along your cheek as he whispered against your skin, “Think it’s my time to have a taste of your sweet pussy?”
This time, the aroused fog in your brain cleared slightly as you shook your head no which in turn earnt a confused expression to Remus’ face. “Want you to fuck me”, you stated with conviction, needing to be full and stretched.
Remus chuckled as he squeezed your thigh and wrist that he still held, “Already? But we’ve only just started Sweetheart”.
You whine pathetically, trying to reach for him and momentarily forgetting that you were still very much restrained. “Please! Want to feel your cock inside of me, don’t want to wait”.
“Ok Love, can’t be having my girl going without what she wants now, can I? You haven’t been stretched much though so do you want to ride me so you have control for a second?” He didn’t sound boastful when he talked and you knew it was necessary for him to ask this, Remus had one of the biggest cock’s you’d ever seen. In fact, when you first saw it, you were sure it wouldn’t fit inside of you. However now after fucking constantly, it was a little easier but still not something to be rushed so you nodded your head in agreement with his idea.
Remus moved to lay against the pillows, easing the lingerie at long last down his legs and onto the floor and then his hands were out and supporting your weight as you were released from Sirius’ grip and able to crawl over to the other Marauder. Once more, his body was a lot warmer than the other two but that only aided in moments like this, the heat helping your pussy to stretch. Straddling his hips, you could help but grind your bare pussy against his thick cock that was hard and lay heavy against his abdomen.
The two of you moaned deeply, his cock throbbing just as harshly as your clit as it brushed against his shaft. Remus rested his hands against your waist, but only to support you, he let you be in control for the moment as your hands rested against his chest, pushing off of it with your movements.
Leaning down quickly, you pecked his lips, sighing into the touch before leaning back up and gripping the base of his dick, standing it up and then rising onto your knees. Even just feeling his tip brushing your hole had enough stimulation that you were moaning. This only increased as you began to lower yourself, slowly and with Remus’ support by guiding your hips down tentatively, making sure that your gasps were done in pleasure and not discomfort.
It burned but in a way that had you begging for more, stretching to your very limit as inch after inch pushed into your cunt until you were about ¾ of the way down before his tip stroked your cervix. Leaning forward so you could take the weight off of your knees, you both just stayed in that position as your body adjusted to being sheathed.
Only as you began to slowly rock your hips did Remus dare to move his hands but only to cup your arse cheeks, massaging the areas and helping you a little to ride back and forth on his cock. “Feel so big Daddy”, you quietly moaned into his chest, not meaning to use the nickname so early into the night but sometimes a different side of you took over.
“Yeah? You’re taking Daddy’s cock so well my love, you’re so tight and pretty above me”, Remus praised and his hips began to buck up to meet yours, increasing the pace and roughness slightly and from the earth-shattering moan you released, there was no chance he was going to stop doing that again if it made you sound that good.
As you began to roll your hips in time with Remus, you had a thought as to where the other two were. Looking over your shoulder and see James and Sirius sat together, their hands clenched and resting on their thighs as they tried not to touch themselves and a pang of guilt settled in your stomach as they really were just trying to think about your pleasure. “Please! Please touch yourselves, take off those stupid underwear and touch yourself. No wait, come here, let me touch you.”
“This is supposed to be about you”, Sirius reminded you in a low gruff tone, like he was trying to restrain himself from snapping but was clearly struggling.
“Yes, and I want to touch you. If you won’t fuck my mouth then you’ll have to come over here so I can wank you off”.
Remus chuckled beneath you, “So demanding all of a sudden, is someone desperate for cock?”
You mewl, eyes closing and head tipping back as his cock fucked you with a hard slam of his hips, “Mmmm, yes! Always desperate for your cocks, because they’re mine aren’t they?” Your words were teasing and you made sure to timidly smile down at Remus as he grinned up at you.
“Yes, they are, all yours Sweetheart”. He fucked into you hard again, your body jolting from the momentum of the movement.
However his thrusts up slowed as Sirius and James stood on either side of the bed, the lacy underwear now discarded and cocks leaking and standing proud, bobbing in the air. Your mouth watered and you were half tempted to beg to taste them but decided to save your energy as you wrapped a hand around each of their cocks, squeezing and pumping slowly, in time with your rolling hips.
The two of them grunted, drips of precum building at the tip, leaking down and wetting the sensitive area. As you figured out a pattern with how fast to stroke them, squeezing in certain areas of their shafts and making sure to brush your thumb over the tip, Remus watched happily, his cock throbbing harder inside of you as you touched the other two. In each of the Marauder's minds, they were once again appreciating just how beautiful you were, taking Remus’ cock so well and pleasuring Sirius and James with your skilled hands, it was a sight to behold.
Sirius couldn’t hold back anymore as he roughly grabbed your jaw, tilting your face back and feverishly kissing you, tongue instantly swiping to gain entrance to your mouth, much like he had earlier in the day when you were sitting on the edge of the dusting desk.
The four of you moaned for different reasons, at the pleasure that was being shared and the love that was underlying in all the touches.
Remus began to fuck up into your body harder but still at a slower pace, his hand stroking over your abdomen, stroking the soft skin before his thumb dipped lower and stroked over your clit in demanding swipes.
Your thighs instantly clenched as well as your palms around the men's cocks. Sirius pulled back, needing to hear and see your pleasure as he stroked a couple of strands of hair out of your eyes, “You like the way Moony is fucking you? I want you to cum for him because, by the look on his handsome face, I don’t think he’s going to last much longer”.
Remus grunted, having been trying to hold back his own orgasm until you had found yours. It just felt so good when you fucked him first, pussy so tight, warm and all his that he didn’t care if he came quicker than other times the two of you fucked, he just wanted to fill you up, needing to see you dripping with his seed.
You were shaking above him at the sight of Remus trying not to unravel and the stroke of his thumb and cock were driving you ever closer to your own peak, thighs shaking with each grind of your hips.
Then you felt it, that tightening and blissful euphoria building in strength, like you were going to explode into a sea of stars as Remus’ name sang from your lips in pleading praise. “That’s it Love, cum for me, fuck you feel so good”, Remus shouted, his cheeks flushed pink and hair sticking to his forehead with the restraint of holding back his own orgasm.
Thankfully for him, after a particularly hard thrust and press of his thumb on your bundle of nerves, you were clenching your eyes closed, mouth gaping open and body locking up as you came around his cock. Only a couple of seconds later, Remus was arching his back slightly, hands squeezing the flesh around your hips tightly as he came, cock buried as deeply as it could go into your cunt as he needed you to have every single drop of his cum.
Your eyes momentarily opened to enjoy the sight but then a hand on the back of your head distracted you as your hair was harshly tugged back, causing your back to arch up, tits pushed out as Jjames batted away your hand from his cock. But, it was only so he could quickly toss his cock off, desperately whimpering as he knelt on the edge of the bed to get closer to you as he too came, all over your tits and down your sternum.
You watched with a satisfied grin at seeing James frantically finding his own orgasm and how flushed he now looked as the last drip of cum gathered at the tip of his cock. The grip in your hair loosened enough that you were able to lean forward and lick a single strip on his dick, capturing that last drip and swallowing it down with a genuine smile.
James looked like he was going to combust at the sight as he sucked in heavy breaths and looked like he was going to pounce on you to show you just how much he loved you but then the one man who hadn’t found his on orgasm quickly disrupted these thoughts. A strong arm wrapped around your waist and hiked you off of Remus's cock which pulled out of you, his cum dripping down as the tallest marauder slide off of the bed.
Sirius returned you to your knees and pushed your shoulders down so your cum covered chest was flat against the sheets and petals and your arse perked up into the air. “Need you so bad Darling, are you going to let me play with you?” Sirius asked, stroking a strong, wide hand down your spine.
“Please fuck me”, you begged, looking over your shoulder towards him. Sirius gave him a handsome grin, his eyes never leaving yours as he reached around you to grasp both of your arms and hold them behind your back.
“It would be my pleasure”, the long-haired man muttered, shifting his hips until his cock brushed against your cum covered hole and began to push in. You were so sensitive after taking Remus that you pulsed around Sirius, his cock stretching and filling you completely, he may not have been as big as Remus but he was still thick and hard. “Merlin! I love feeling Moony or Prong’s cum inside of you, feel it coating my cock and lubing your pretty pussy”.
You gasped at his words as he bottomed out, hips flush against yours, hands tightly holding onto yours so that your weight rested awkwardly on your neck but you didn’t care, needing and wanting everything he was willing to give you.
Unlike Remus, Sirius didn’t hold back with his thrusts, moving with speed and intensity that had you almost seeing stars with how deep he was fucking you in this angle. Your hands desperately clung to his, feeling the coolness of his rings and using that to ground you to the moment as you were beginning to feel a little fuzzy and floaty from the day's events.
“Taking me so well, you’ve done so well for all of us”, Sirius praised, followed by a deep throaty moan as you squeezed his cock tighter at his words. This only encouraged him to fuck you faster until it was a blur as to where your bodies met.
Your toes were curled as the constant smack of his cock against all of your blissful nerves had you wanting to melt right into the bed. It wasn’t long before you were feeling that relief on the horizon and from the way your pussy was clenching, Sirius could feel it too.
Releasing his hold on your wrists, he quickly pulled your upper body up, until your back was flush against his chest, his arms wrapping around your front to support your weight from toppling forward.
“Say it again, say you’re ours, I need to hear you say it”, Sirius asked, his sharp teeth teasing the shell of your ear, even in the new position it didn’t stop his deep, fast thrusts.
You were sure you were screaming your answer as your orgasm throbbed through your entire body as you did as requested, “I’m yours, I’m all of yours, Sirius- ah! Fuck please-”, you were rambling now, saying any words that you could think of as you were overcome with pleasure.
The sensation was so intense that you hadn’t noticed that Sirius had also cum with you until you were able to catch your breath and realise you were both collapsed face first onto the bed. Sirius’ cock was still inside of you, slowly softening and allowing his and Remus’ cum to continue seeping out and onto the sheets.
His lips ghosted over your shoulder as he moved your hair away from your ear, “And what did we learn today?”, he asked still sounding breathless but also teasing.
“Clothes don’t define love”, you mumble, feeling exhausted and hungry, looking forward to the feast that Remus was bound to bring you all after the cleanup and aftercare.
“Exactly. And what else?”
“That I belong to you all, just as you all belong to me”.
“That’s right Darling, and please, never forget it”.
#poly!marauders#the marauders#marauders smut#poly!marauders x reader#james potter smut#james potter#james potter x reader#sirius black#sirius black x reader#sirius black smut#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin smut#hp smut#hp fanfic#the marauders x reader#mine*
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I wish there were more passing tips that were geared towards larger trans guys.
“where baggy clothes” okay! except I have a very large chest that can’t easily be hidden underneath baggy clothing
“men’s button down shirts cover the chest!” you can see where the buttons are pulling across my chest. and if I go up a size it looks like I’m a kid who stole my dad’s clothes.
“binding gives the appearance of having pecs!” my binder certainly does make me look flatter, but I have to combine it with loose fitting clothing because otherwise it still looks too busty. also my binder is a 4XL?? I typically wear a large in men’s clothing (occasionally medium or XL depending on brand), but I’m in the second largest size of this brand of binder. WHY??? like these brands say size inclusive because they go up to 5XL but their sizing has a 4XL fitting a large body type.
I don’t know like. I feel like so many passing tips and even brand sizing are marketed towards smaller and thinner trans men. I so rarely see anything showing large trans men. like cmon!! show me trans men with dad bods!! trans men with chests that are a struggle to hide!! trans men with round faces!! trans men with thick thighs!! large!! trans!! men!!!!!
#I dunno maybe it’s just me#ftm#trans#trans pride#trans man#transgender man#transmasc#transgender#lgbtq
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Mix 7: A Father's Gift
Mr. Jacobs was proud of his son. He was everything he wanted, if only his son, Derek would realize this.
But with the gift he was about to obtain, perhaps he would realize this.
Mr. Jacobs heard about a mysterious shop that was able to fix certain issues; of the bodily kind. Before he knew it, he was standing before its doors.
He scanned the surroundings before going in. It was wet and lightly raining, two tall walls of red brick, a reminder of the post WW2 era, flanking the doors on both sides. The door was wooden with no sign of paint or finish on them, and there was no sign save a strange symbol etched at the top of the door. Small enough to miss if you didn't notice. He couldn't make out the of the building, it seemed to never settle on a shape, style, or material. Mr. Jacobs soon put that out of his mind and walked through the door.
The room inside was darkly lit, but it had grayish carpet, dark green wall paper, and two Japanese style doors in the back. In front of them was a receptionist area that blocked access to them.
There was a man sitting behind it looking at him. His hair was concealed by a white turban, but his facial hair; medium sized eye brows & a carefully shaped mustache, revealed that his hair was jack black. He had striking green eyes. He was wearing a black shirt that had a galactic print on them. He could swear that he could see the stars twinkle & the galaxy itself slowly turn.
"Hello sir, I take you are here to take on a new look? You can be anything, or are you looking to heal some hurts that modern medicine has failed to heal so far," the receptionist asked in an confident tone.
"Not for me, but my son," Mr. Jacobs replied.
"How does this work? What do you charge?"
"What I charge depends on the reasons for the change, typically for men like you looking to change their sons, often for vanity reasons, I do not come cheap. I can't tell you how many "wimps" I changed into world class athletes," the receptionist replied.
He continued: "As for how, you go through the door to my left, pick the traits you want, and then get back to me & I'll handle the rest. Now give me your right palm, Mr. Jacobs." He came out of the receptionist desk & brought two chairs for both to sit.
He sat & so did the father.
He stretched out his hand.
As if instantly, Mr. Jacobs did as he was asked.
"How did you know my family name," he pondered.
"Oh forgive me, my name is Corsair, as for how, I would not make it as far as I did in my line of work if I didn't know who may prospective customers are," Corsair retorted.
Must be because my information is available online due to social media he thought.
Corsair had Mr. Jacobs's hand grasped in an embrace of both of his hands. He then moved his forehead to touch this embrace and closed his eyes. His secret revealed, he could read minds!
He saw the real reason for the visit. He did in-fact come to help his son. It was not to make him a star or make him more palpable to the marriage market or for some desire to use him for social gain. His son had confidence issues.
He dug deeper. Ah, there he is:
I see, from their conversations, the son feels mixed matched. He worked on himself hard both academically & physically and achieved a great result. One more year at university, and quite the healthy body with the aesthetics to show it. But he hates his face. Nothing he has done has ever worked. He considering plastic surgery. Mr. Jacobs supports his son, but wants a more natural way than the scalpel. My way is...magical if not natural. He just needs a little bump to bring out his features.
Corsair moved his head back up to face Mr. Jacobs & unclasped his hands and rest his on his lap.
"He doesn't need much. One measure. $1000," he said in a deadpan manner.
"Deal," Mr. Jacobs said quickly.
Corsair smiled, "Through this door."
He handed Mr. Jacobs a cup.
"Pick one to fill in that cup. The turn knob & valve is located under the giant cylinders. Keep walking forwards after you are done,' he said.
"Just like that," Mr. Jacobs replied.
"Just like that," Corsair replied with a big smile.
He opened the receptionist area to let Mr. Jacobs in, and he went through the door. It closed behind him.
The area was pitch black, but soon a green light, no a series of green lights sprang up. They were next to each other with some distance, but orderly. They were lined up on both sides of the room, forming a hallway.
He walked up to the first pair. They were giant green clear glass canisters. There was a glowing green liquid inside and to his shock; unconscious men with their eyes closed floating inside of them.
They seemed to be sleeping. They had a calm expression about them. Each canister had a distinct person in each. No matter the size, face, ect, they were all good looking & fit. It was a hallway of models.
Pick me. No me. No over here!
The men inside were mentally communicating with Mr. Jacobs.
"Wait you can speak without moving your mouths? Wait, are you being held against your will," he asked out loud.
In unison: NO!
Do not worry for us, for a part of us gets to live on in others. We get to live through others in more lives than what has been recorded in history. Choose.
Telepathy he realized. Fine, he would choose.
"I don't need much, I just want my son to be more confident himself. Realize his potential," Mr. Jacobs said loudly.
Far off in the back a canister glowed very brightly while the others dimmed.
After 10 minutes he approached the canister. For some reason he put his hand on it, and then a flash of the memories of the person on the canister flooded him.
A young soldier, living life. He was always positive no matter the situation. On track to a long distinguished career. About to go home. And then a large explosion occurred. A terrorist attack, killed his most of his platoon, and he layed on the ground suffering about to meet his maker.
Corsair appeared. He healed the soldier's body, but the soul was too detached to keep him going.
He was given an offer:" work through him to help others in need of help. You would live on by merging yourself with others to change their life trajectory in positive ways. You would still be considered dead to the public."
The solider, named Caleb agreed without hesitation, not caring for the life in the canister.
On the bright side, the canister men were given a new purpose & would join their new mental powers thanks to the green liquid that also anchored their souls to their bodies & gave them eternal youth. They created a gesalt mind palace where they could get to know of each other & live new lives in their perfect worlds.
Mr. Jacobs chose him. After he wiped a tear from his eyes, he looked down and found a water jug like hatch, the kind you find in barrel shaped drink dispensers, and pressed the release valve down. Green liquid filled the cup & he was done.
"Thank you for your service," said Mr. Jacobs. He bowed.
The serene body cocked a smile.
Mr. Jacobs wanted to take him home, but he knew he would die outside that canister and promptly left. He kept walking forward, not backwards as instructed, and came across a door.
He walked through it. He came out to the same receptionist area he used to come in. He turned and saw it was the first door he used to get into the hall way of perfect, to him, men.
Space time shenanigans.
He walked past the receptionist desk, turned towards Corsair.
"I take it you will keep the secret," he wondered.
"If this works, my life is yours," the father replied.
"The money has already been deducted, hand me the cup. The final step is near," Corsair said & then took the cup from the father.
He could not see what he was doing, but he heard shaking & swirling noises. They stopped. He pulled out a bag & In the bag was a green pill.
Corsair handed Mr. Jacobs the bag.
"Have him swallow it over night, right before he goes to bed," he said.
"Thank you so much, how do you take payment," Mr. Jacobs pondered.
"Payment is automatically deducted as I said before," Corsair replied.
They both wished them a great day & Mr. Jacobs went home.
His son was home the weekend before spring break, determined to do nothing. Maybe some extra studying.
His father gave him a bag with a green pill in it. Told him to take it before bed. Maybe an anti-anxiety pill? Some supplements?
He pondered. His dad has never given him anything bad. He did as he was told. He went to sleep.
His body began to float. He wanted to wake up and see what was going on, but he couldn't open his eyes, move his limbs, or get out of his dream. Did the pill he took induce sleep paralysis?
He had a mouth, but he could not scream.
He was floating about 3 feet above the bed, and then the bed sheets slid off, exposing him to the air from all sides.
Above him was a specter or ghost. It was Caleb. He was floating even higher than Derek was. Situated above Derek in the same resting position, he started to descend. Derek didn't move, couldn't move. Soon Caleb was occupying the same space as Derek.
Swoosh. A burst of wind flowed out from Derek's body.
Caleb faded away into Derek, and Derek soon glowed green.
In Derek's dream space, he met Caleb. Derek was scared at first, but he was able to be calmed down. He explained the situation. Derek was mad at his dad at first, but understood his good intentions.
"How much of me will change," Derek asked.
"I don't know, but you will still be driving the wheel of whatever it is we turn into," Caleb said.
Derek let out a sigh. It was probably too late to go back. He swallowed the pill after all.
"You will ride passenger seat no matter what," Derek said in confidence. Some of Caleb's mental aspects where seeping in.
Caleb smiled. Both of the men turned into tornadoes that then merged into one twister. It settled into a new person.
The green glow went away.
For Caleb's physical body, it began to change. During the mind meld, Caleb's DNA transfused into every part of Derek's body.
He grew more hair, eyebrows got thinner, his lips a more flush with blood getting pinker. His eyes reshaped themselves, while his ears changed angle a little to move towards the skull.
His chin and cheek bones thickening gave him a much stronger jawline. His skeletal changes generated new sensations, like the feeling of pops and pressures. From this moment forward, Caleb grunted. Not in defiance, but in acceptance of the new changes. You could hear "mmm" come from him.
With a suddenness & popping sound, his neck, shoulder, chest, arms, & legs exploded with new muscle at the same time as if he was hulking out. His fingers changing to meet the new proportions. His legs lengthened.
He let out an sharp "ahh" at the sudden changes. His body from his waist jerking up to make a weak triangle before settling flat.
His abs changed as well. He began to groan. He had a cross between his own and Caleb's. He could feel his abdominal muscles merge into one. The skin then constricted and reshaped them, giving form to each of his stones.
His nether regions were a 1 to 1 copy of Caleb's. Bigger & longer. Harrier too. As the changes came in, he could be heard breathing hard through his nose.
The changes were done. His transformation complete. He slept the rest of the night.
He got up before his father & went to the local gym: he needed space & a different environment from his father's home. No one saw him as a different person to his shock. He went to the locker room to get a full look of his changes:
He was bewildered. He was like a new man. Did he have to change this much? He loved the muscles, the power,....the confidence? He remember that Caleb was inside him now. Caleb was a soldier. A flood of memories hit Derek. Caleb's training & missions as a soldier, his buddies in the air force.
He returned home. His father was also shocked by his son's changes. They talked and found a happy medium. He wanted to know where this clinic was located, but his father forgot. No third chances.
He decided to go travel for this spring break. A visit to Caleb's platoon. The ones who survived. To the graves of the ones who didn't. They all deserved respect.
#male merge#body merging#merging tf#male fusion#fusion#thefusioncelestial#male body transformation#male transformation#merge#musclegrowth#muscle#muscular#assimilation#assimilate#male body merge
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Ok, a lot of trans guys are into historic clothing, so my notes on my Siegfried Farnon cosplay will be through that lens.
Buying vintage is tricky because clothing silhouettes are different from modern (especially where trousers sit), and a shop may or may not do vanity sizing. So, it's important to know all your measurements, have measurements of similar garments that fit well, to carefully read sizing charts, and to be able to experiment on fit (aka, be able to return stuff).
I bought 3 "new vintage" (reproduction) 100% cotton spearpoint collar shirts from Darcy Clothing. Shipping from the UK to US was fast. The green shirt is ironically not for Siegfried, because I already was on a mission to have more historic style clothing.
I am a size men's small in casual shirts, due to narrow shoulders and a 36" chest. However, I am a 14.25" neck (compared to barely 13" pre-T, which is a big change), which nudges me towards men's medium territory sometimes.
I ordered based on my neck size, a 14.5" in this case. (Darcy suggests adding .5" to your neck measurement. I erred on the smaller side because a 15" collar shirt is guaranteed to be enormous on me.)
Other stats: I am 5'10" and weigh about 160-5 lbs, with most my fat in my belly (so I can't wear slim cut shirts unless I drop about 10 lbs). Usual caveats that my fit feedback is mainly for my sizing, ymmv. Fits are straight out of the bag for this photo set - no ironing, I have a lot of meetings today. 😅
Notes:
The neck is snug only on the green shirt, perhaps because the fabric is slightly thicker, or just due to standard deviation. The white shirts fit great in the neck.
Shoulder seam sits somewhere between a modern small and medium. This is acceptable; the next neck size up would definitely result in a hugely baggy shirt for me, and going down a neck size would choke me.
Sleeves are typical for many trans guys -- too long. I am hoping sleeve garters will do the trick in pulling up the cuff properly on my wrist.
Fit across the chest is a bit too large for me. I would hesitate to wear this shirt without a waistcoat, but it's also a fit that could be improved with an after-market dart.
Fit across the belly is roomier than the chest - this is a boxy shirt.
Super long shirt, no danger of it untucking, even in modern hip-hugger pants (why would you do that)
Fabric is a good weight and tight weave for the green shirt. I am wearing a dark blue undershirt in these pics. The white shirts are a bit thinner - you can see the design on my undershirt, so if you bind, definitely go with a light colored binder under a white undershirt.
So, for my measurements, Darcy is pretty good! I will still struggle with many of the same fit frustrations I do in modern clothing, but have acceptable workarounds.
Next, will look at a new vintage suit from another vendor, from which I'm considering ordering Siegfried's tweed 3-piece.
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saw a youtube sponsorship for a brand that markets itself as "masculine shoes in small sizes, for trans men" and if the entire idea wasn't already preposterous (this is part of a large scale marketing push to convince trans people that clothing that has been available on the normal heterosexual market for generations is "hard to find" so they can charge you hundreds of dollars for it), it's also ugly, and they have chosen to call their company "Tomboy Toes". if you said those two words to my face in a shoe store i would slap you
$120 for a black or brown version of the standard school uniform brogue which has been available all the way down to toddler sizes since uhhhhhhh approximately 1820.
just to double check my sense of reality i went to the largest single online shoe market on earth besides Amazon (zappos) and typed in "women's brogues" and selected size 5 which would be pushing the lower limit on the larger part of the bell curve of adult AFAB people on earth, or at least the northern hemisphere, and there are many options in approximately the same price range depending on brand name, with sales regularly down to much less, on similar or identical styles. ebay also. Tomboy Toes carries down to size EU33 which is around 3.5 US Women's and again, that's just in the children's section if you need Picture Day/uniform (children)/ Office Whatever (adult) Shoes and they are on eBay lightly used in great numbers because kids grow out of them in 6-10 months.
is it annoying to be shopping in "women's section" or "kids section" for these things when you are an adult man. yes. so i dont understand the marketing impetus to replicate that exact scenario by naming your company for adult trans men something i would assume was a sassy yet misguided terf brand if i found it on a label in a generic wingtip at Goodwill. cis men who are very small also have to shop in the small sections for their small clothes. i am wearing a t-shirt meant for a 7 year old right now, it says so on the label. it fits me better than any of the shirts i own that are made for the standard american adult. i literally have bigger things to worry about
naturally their "vegan leather" selection is much larger but again, it's ugly Trendy Booties that will fall apart in a year and are, i cant emphasize this enough, made of plastic, nothing special, and in standard women and children's sizes which are already plentiful at every shoe retailer. why are we letting these "trans brands" charge us a $100 tax to pretend to take us seriously (while at the same time calling us "tomboys")? does anyone know
i do, its actually because of the learned helplessness issue again. the accepted wisdom at the tumblr layer of transness is 'its so hard to find [item of clothing that is suitable for trans people]" because the knowledge of how to shop for these items in the actual market has completely evaporated within the last ten years, i watched it happen right in front of me. but it's a complete fallacy, you can find this stuff easily. you can find large women's shoes, small men's shoes, women's clothing with wide shoulders or long torsos, there are entire stores for this already and measurements and sectiions within "department stores" (such as they are) and then after that there are one million billion foam inserts and seams and button placements and belts and scarves and gloves and hem lengths and blah blah blah that trans people and also cis people who are not standard-shaped or who just want their shoes or bras or shirts to fit have already been using for thousands of years so ive been mad about this all day. TOMBOY TOES. they are having us for absolute fools. just call me a slur at this point
i already know some nincompoop is going to match me paragraph for paragraph in a heated defense of the hundred dollar jingle keys boring shoes so i just want them to know in advance: we are not the same. i have so many cool shoes it is unbelievable. in every gender imaginable. and i didn't pay more than like $50 for any of them. also no theres no cheat sheet to learning to buy clothing for your body, i do not say this with any rancor either, its just hard, it takes a long time, and i dont have a cheatsheet for it because there isnt one. except rule #1: dont buy $120 boring ugly shoes from someone jingling their keys in front of your face and calling it Queer Fashion when you can get them for a lot less basically anywhere $120 isnt even a lot for a GOOD pair for mid-range, non-designer leather dress shoes. if you know they will last for ten years and stand up to resoling, it's completely fine. but not for thooooooose
#no reblogs i can already predict what sort of storm drains of fandom mewling this would wash down if i let it#actually i have one other actual tip and its sexyshoes.com#they have a size range from like 4 to 15 in the sluttiest shoes imaginable#and the sales are extremely good
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=The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare=
=Plus a Woman or Two=
=Chapter 3=
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Once the dust of the new arrival had settled, the men were outside tending to the ship as they hit a bout of harsh winds. Looking through your bag for the twentieth time you sighed as you came to the realization. Now in a pair of brown pants held up by a pair of suspenders set atop a light blue button up your bare feet slapped against the deck as you walked past all the men who gave you sideways looks coming to stop in front of your brother who was tending to some ropes. ”We have a problem,” you announced, pocketing your hands. ”What is it?” Gus asked, slightly concerned. ”I haven’t any boots,” you stated. He frowned, looking down to your bare feet that you wriggled. ”You didn’t bring any with you?” he asked. ”I did. Quit a nice pair, actually. Couldn’t swim in them, though. The flight suit was doing wonders to try and drown me,” you explained. ”So why not take the flight suit off?” he asked. ”Well, that would mean I would arrive on deck with nothing but my skivvies. While I’m sure the gents would have enjoyed that I dought you would have,” you explained. ”I much prefer the flight suit actually,” Lassen’s comment earned a glare from Gus, making him chuckle. A smirk pulled at your lips as you looked back at Lassen who simply smiled. ”I would prefer the skivvies,” Freddy pipped in. ”Shut it Freddy,” Gus ordered. ”Yes sir,” Freddy smiled.
”Any of you boys have a spare pair?” Gus asked. Shortly after, Lassen placed a pair of boots in front of you. You propped an eyebrow, looking up at the smiling Swed. ”While I greatly appreciate the offer,” you picked up the boot that almost dwarfed the size of your head. “I’m more likely to drown in this boot than I was the sea,” you finished. ”Well it’s the only spare pair we have,” Gus said, taking the other. ”There are the best boots on the market,” Lassen boasted. ”How so? Made of special squirrel leather?” you asked. ”Yes, how did you know?” Lassen quick response to your quip had you smiling. A smile he found dangerously contagious. ”I could make it work. But I’ve had to gut the poor buggers. I’d hate to ruin such a good pair of boots,” you said. ”Please, think of it as a gift. A welcome to the team,” Lassen stated with a shrug. In spite of his statement he looked reminiscent on the pair of boots. ”Ah of course. Welcome to the team. Now let me cut up a pair of boots you clearly have some attachment to,” you took the boot from your brother holding them out to Lassen. ”I grew up running barefoot through the shire. I’ll be fine until we acquire another pair,” you gave a thankful nod and a kind smile. ”I insist,” he shock his head pleasantly surprised at your kind gesture. ”So do I,” you said. With a huff, he smile tilting his head to the side. ”Then I suppose we are at a standstill,” he said. ”It seems we are,” you sighed. ”Only difference is, when I’m stood at a stand still I never back down,” you finished pulling the boots back to you starting to fiddle with the laces. ”Neither do I,” he said crossing his arms over his chest. The poor shirt he was wearing strained at the flex of his muscles. You hummed as you took in the apple assortments of such he had. ”What ever shall we do then?” you questioned. ”Please Ma’am. No lady should be walking around bare foot while a man stands booted beside her,” he explained. You chuckled at the address. ”Listen closely, boys. Ma’am is not something I like to be called. You can call me Pat. Patsy, Patience. Miss or lad. Anything but Ma’am,” you beckoned Lassen down. He frowned but obeyed, leaning down. ”Good las,” you smiled, slinging the boots you tied together by the laces around his neck. Giving his cheek a little pat you smirked before moving away. He paused a wide smile spreading across his face as he straightened up to watch you walk away. ”Also,” you stated, pulling your sniper out of its case. Sliding a magazine into it, you cocked the gun. “We have a large ship off the starboard side,” you said, resting your gun on the roof of the control room. The boys instantly moved to examine it, squinting through the sun. You leaned down, looking through the scope. Seeing the nazi symbol you tisked. ”And they don’t look friendly,” you stated. ”What are we looking at, Patsy?” Gus asked. ”A problem,” you admitted honestly. You took in the large turret gun. “A rather like one at that,” you continued. ”Possibility of being blown to bits at the first sign of aggression?” Gus asked. ”100% Gusly,” you said, looking up from the scope. ”Right well. Hasey how’s your Swedish?” Gus asked. ”Non existing sir,” Hasey admitted. “Accent?” you asked. ”Only the one I was born widh,” he said. ”Right Hasey hidden below deck. Well stay up here, Pat you hide that gun of yours until the times right,” Gus said. ”You know I’m a terrible shot close distance brother,” you said. ”How does that work?” Hasey asked. ”Well the closer someone gets to me, the better the chance of my bullet misses,” you explained. ”You could hide down below,” Gus suggested. You chuckled amused by the suggestion. ”And miss a chance to gut a Nazi?” you laughed, shaking your head. ”Right then. Freddy,” Gus finalized, turning to Freddy with a grin. ”You're going for a swim,”
You watched the small little boat filled with Nazi solider’s trudge up to the boat. ”Stay safe Pat,” he whispered. ”Never,” you grinned. It was always your saying. Every time before you were about to go into something dangerous, he would say it. And you would respond the same way. The small boat pulled up to the side and in it stood a small little angry german. Lassen waited by the opening with his hands on his hips. There was a stale air as you waited. ”Where do you sail from?” from his little wings on his shoulders you assumed he was a Major asked in German. “Er, Sweden,” Lassen’s demeanor seemed to do a complete turn as he played the part of innocent little fisher. ”Do you speak the English?” the Major asked. ”I’m... I’m... Swedish but I speak a little English,” Lassen said. ”We’re coming on board,” The Major stated. They quickly filed onto the vessel the Major ordering the boat to be searched. ”All are welcome. All are welcome,” Lassen now stood next to the steering wheel beckoned them all on as they passed by. You stood by the entrance of the below deck smiled, giving small greetings. ”Even the little one. He can come too. Welcome,” while you could understand why Lassen was so nonchalant about it, you couldn’t muster any more than a smile as the Major stepped up to you, looking you up and down, his eyes shamelessly resting on your chest for a moment longer. But being a woman, his question wasen’t for you. He turned to the boys. ”Why are you here?” The Major asked accusingly. ”Just a little sailing holiday,” Gus said with a rather good Swedish accent. The major hummed, his gaze turning back to you. Where his eyes once again fell to your chest. Seeing the gaze and the discomfort it brought you, Lassen stepped up, placing a hand on the Majors shoulder, drawing his gaze from you. ”A jolly holiday trip,” he said. ”Take your hands off,” the major demanded, his already sour gaze turning more so. While there was little suspicion about it, he didn’t trust them in the slightest. Or perhaps he didn’t like them. ”Papers? Passport?” He asked. Gus pointed to the control room where Lassen reached in and retrieved said forged papers. Your eyes flicked to the man behind you as they searched every part of the boat. Lassen handed them over, “Here you go,” knowing they were well-forged passports. The major wasn’t able to find any fault in them.
”Any other people on the boat?” he asked. ”Just the three of us,” Gus stated with an innocent shake of his head. ”Anybody else down there?” The major called down below deck. ”Nein,” one responced. ”Even so. A lone woman on a ship with two men. Of which she shares no last name to,” The major returned to full height flipping open your passport. Your heart sunk, but you kept your face calm. ”Ah. You see, In Sweden we are a very progressive country. Equality between man and woman is very important to us,” Lassen called. The major hummed again, a sick smile twisting his face. It wasn’t a good enough reason. You could see it. ”Ack, don’t be like that,” you chuckled bashfully. “You will excuse my fiance, he is a little shy. I told him I had never been out to sea before. He surprised me with this little holiday to celebrate our engagement,” you played the blushing bride as you smiled innocently batting your eyelashes. Leaning closer, you whispered. “You know how men are, they would rather roll over dead than admit they have a soft side for their women,” you chuckled. The Major studied you looking for any lies. You could see the clogs ticking in his mind. One more push. You moved your mother’s old wedding band you wore on your middle finger to your enjoyment finger before holding it up wiggling the gold band, it catching the sun and the Major’s eyes. He was convinced. Although he wasn’t happy about what he was convinced of. ”It is a shame you are engaged. If not, we could have taken you aboard for a proper celebration,” The major was a man at sea, had been at sea for a long time. To see a woman in any state would arouse the desires he had not been able to tend to. You could feel the eyes on you, the sicking hunger they all shared for fresh meat. “Perhaps we still will,” he reached up, dragging his fingers down your cheek. You forced a laugh at the disgusting feeling that washed over you as you dropped your cheek, subtly moving away from him. ”Come, come, we have lots to eat...” Lassen stepped up behind him, firmly directing him to the table of food and wine you had set out in hopes to appease them. ”Take your dirty hands off me!” The major snapped. All at once it was like someone had tripped a wire. The soldiers scattered around the deck all trained their gun on you all. Most on Lassen who was harshly shoved back at gun point till he was forced to sit on the ledge by the steering wheel. You yourself was pushed up against the mast. ”And you, put your hands in the air!” The major snapped towards Gus who did what he was ordered. You all held your breath as Gus and Lassen shared a look. There were a few moments of silence before a huffy laughed crept up from Gus. ”Oooh! Ho-Ho!” Lassen quickly caught on laughing as well as he pointed to Gus. “You’re in trouble now! You’ve been a naughty boy!” he teasingly called out as they both broke into drunken laughter. The major glanced down to the almost empty wine bottle. ”I’ll give you 100 francs to shoot him,” Lassen offered. ”Don’t shoot me!” Gus mockingly waved his raised arms. The major looked between them, bewildered. ”He hates Germans. You should really shoot him,” Lassen said. If only the major knew. ”I... I’m sorry. You are very scary,” Gus tried to get his laughter under control as the major debated his life’s decisions.
”Make him walk the plank. He loves wood,” Lassen added. The major then looked to you, who gave a sheepish shrug of your shoulder. Moving past you, he approached Lassen. ”Dirty drunken animal!” he slapped the passports back to his chest. ”Guilty as charged,” Lassen sung with a smirk that had their laughter striking up again. ”Lets get rid of them,” your blood ran cold at the german which you perfectly understood. “Take the woman,” he ordered, his dirty gaze claiming you as his prize. Your hand slipped behind your back, catching your brother’s gaze. He knew you could speak german. And he knew you heard the words whispered. You placed your thumb in the middle of your palm and closed your finger around it. It was a simple enough sign. It meant danger. Not that you needed to pass on the information. ”I carry a can of kerosene for just these sorts of occasions,” he nodded to one of the solider’s who received the spoken of can. “It’s been a while, but the last time someone laughed at me when I boarded their vessel, I gave them the choice. Either swim to shore or take their chances on a burning ship,” the major looked between you all. To all your faces as the smiles left from them. Lassen glanced over his shoulder to the solider pouring kerosene onto the deck. “Hans and I wondered which option they’d choose, death by water or death by fire. Oddly, they chose both,” he smirked. ”They made it until the very last moment, until their hair was on fire,” he commented reaching out to tug a strand of your hair. “And their blistered skin,” his hands trailed down, slipping between your buttons popping the top three and flicking the material open to show the top of your cleavage. “Peeled from their fingers, before they immersed themselves in water in the vain hope of reaching shore,” he hummed in satisfaction taking a moment to admire your bosom before nodding to two of his men who flanked you. The man pouring the kersone did so right over Lassen’s boots.
”One of them sank immediately and perished. But to our amazement, the big one, he showed great spirit. In spite of all the odds...he painstakingly made it to shore,” he moved away from you, focusing on the boys, the kersone spilling over the food you were defiantly going to eat. You looked over the poor destroyed treats running your tongue over your teeth. You could feel your patience getting thin. The boys were getting riled up as well. The cruelness of the Majors story was sickening. ”We followed and cheered him on,” The major feigned encouraged excitement. “And rewarded this impressive achievement with a bullet, to the back, of his head,” Lassen eyes narrowed at the man in front of him. A cruel man. “Isn’t that funny? Why aren’t you laughing?” the major asked. The tension was so thick at that point just about anything could cut it. What did though was a bang, then the sound of bullets firing from below deck. The soldiers erupted in confusion and at the very second Lassen snapped up his arm, lashing out. The knife he gripped with white knuckles slashed clean across the major’s throat. The blood sputtered from the clutched wound, the crimson red running through the pretty white sailor’s uniform. He then turned to the one on his left and did the same. Gus unveiled the gun he had hidden under the table, taking out the soldier who stood on the far front of the ship than the one at the other. You stamped your foot down on the edge of your gun, hidden by a simple rucksack, and the barrel snapped up into your hold. Hoisting it up, you tucked your finger on the trigger, tilting the gun first to the left, hovering it right under the solders chin before blowing his brains into a beautiful burst of red. You then tilted it to the right and did the same. Hasey emerged from below, quickly taking out another two while Gus took out one that ran from around the side. Hasey walked past you as you hoisted your gun up into a proper position, taking out the one that followed him as he took out the remaining soldier on the boarding boat. You all then turned to Lassen as he expertly dispatched the last three with nothing but his knife. He walked past you shoving a solider, all the while stabbing his neck until he went limp. He then shoved him to the side before literally gutting the last one before shoving him over the side of the ship. The solider he had killed moments before hung over over the railing. Reaching down Lassen grabbed the scuff of his pants, lifting it and chucking him over board. All of which Gus watched with a bemused smile and you with an impressed prop of your eyebrow. ”Nice work, Lassen,” Gus cheerily said setting his gun down. With all the danger now disposed of, you let your gun lower.
“Work, looked more like art to me,” you said, Lassen giving you a breathy nod of acknowledgement. ”There’s more where they came from,” he said, gesturing to the war ship behind him. ”Yes,” Gus squinted off. You moved forward, getting yourself ready, resting your gun on the railing as you kneeled. Lassen groaned as he heaved up the dead major with one hand, the other pupating the major’s hand to wave limply. Gus opened his spy glass, looking through it. ”Not sure it’s working, Lassen. The captain looks rather agitated,” Gus stated as Freedy emerged from the sea hoisting himself up onto the boarding boat. ”They’re bringing their guns to bear,” Gus barely finished the sentence when a missile was shot. The boys all looked behind them as the missile exploded into the sea a fair distance from the boat. ”They’ll find their range soon sir,” Hasey warned. ”Freddy, should we be worried?” Gus asked. ”Oh, I don’t think so, sir. It’s a rather large explosive, so I set a rather large fuse. I located the outside of the powder room, so when it goes bang, it really should go bang,” Freddy explanation was finished by another missile firing. ”Closer...” Hesey stated, the worry clear in his voice. ”Taking out the captain won’t stop the missiles,” you stated. ”Bet you a tenner for a cock shot on the captain,” Gus suggested. A split second later you had changed target and pulled the trigger. The shot rang out and you pulled back. Gus chuckled maniacally as the captain doubled over, clutching what remained as blood spattered onto the wall behind him. ”Should be any second now, chaps,” Freddy stated. You had to admit you were getting nervous. They seemed to have their range now. The boys felt it, two nervously shifting from foot to foot. ”Freddy?!” Gus questioned. A moment later the explosive went off, then the powder went off, resulting in a spectacular explosion. You whistled as the wind from the explosion wafted over you all. ”Good work, Frederick,” Gus congratulated him. ”Thank you, Captain. Now, any chance you can tell us what we’re doing here, sir?” he asked. You propped your gun against your shoulder looking at your brother, wondering the exact same thing. ”Dry yourself off, frogman, and I’ll tell you,“ Gus said, collapsing the spyglass. ”The curiosity is eating us all up, sir,” Hasey said.
”So fiance?” Lassen asked as you all waited for Freddy. ”What you didn’t know?” you asked with a half serious expression. ”Lassen you bastard. Didn’t even ask for my blessing,” Gus commented. ”I would have if I had known. I mean, it’s all so sudden. I’ve only met you this morning,” Lassen said gesturing to you. ”Your right. It was a rather long courting period,” you nodded, a smile breaking your face as you couldn’t keep up the act. Hesey watched in amusement at the interaction. ”Do I have any say in the matter?” Lassen asked, raising his eyebrows. ”Course not darling dear,” you grinned. Lassen grinned back, taking note of the funny feeling that stirred within him. The way you called him darling. He liked it very much. Once Freddy had changed, you all gathered around the table all looking to Gus expectantly. Freddy was seated at the table. Hasey leaned against the stairs and Lassen found himself a seat on one of the beds. You sat opposite your brother fiddling with some of the charting instruments. ”I apologize for all the secrecy, chaps. But this is an unsanctioned, unofficial, and unauthorized mission. If we’re picked up by the Brits, we will all go to jail. If we’re picked up by the Germans, torture and death,” Gus explained. Lassens lips twitched up in a a half smirk at the audacity Gus had. You leaned back in your chair. You knew it was going to be a danger. Your brother only ever called on you when he absolutely needed it. ”So, it’s just the four of us, and her then?” You frowned at the slight quip Freddy unknowingly gave. After all he held no malice in his words. ”Five of us, And Captain Appleyard,” Gus said. You perked up at the name of your old friend. ”Granny’s gonna be there?” you asked. The nick name granny came around in a sort of roundabout way. Appleyard = apples = apple pie = granny smith’s apple pies = granny. ”He’s responsible for securing this information. He is, however, in a spot of bother. He is being held by the Germans on La Palma,” you frowned at the news as Gus pointed out the small speck on the map. ”Our first job is to liberate,” Gus stated simply. ”Oh, so, that’s all, is it?” Hasey asked sarcastically. ”No. We need to confirm Appleyard’s intelligence. That’s why there are two more agents on their way to Fernando Po by train, as we speak,” Gus explained. You picked up a measuring instrument, plotting it along the map to ruffly calculate the time it would take to get there. ”Doing what, exactly?” Lassen asked. ”They’ll be ensuring that those ships are filled with supplies, so they’re worth blowing up in the first place,” Gus said. ”I mean any german ship it worth blowing up,” you muttered. ”True but these ships insure and supply the uboats that have been giving us a hard time,” Gus explained. ”No u boats means Americans on British soil and the British feed,” you whispered realizing the importance of such a mission. Gus nodded. The seriousness of it all sunk in to the group. ”So no pressure, then?” you stated with a bright smile.
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Masterlist =Here=
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#anders lassen#anderslassenxreader#gus march phillips#the ministry of ungentlemanly warfare#tmouw#tmouwxreader#tmouw x reader#ungentlemanly warefare#alan ritchson#anders lassen x reader
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https://www.tumblr.com/athymelyreply/741449177837584384/reggyjester-skeletalroses-so-this-is-a?source=share
https://www.tumblr.com/phoebo-fugiente/741458451982630912?source=share
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So between these two posts taking me out at the knees for different reasons, I now have Corset Thoughts:
Dream is corsetiere and he vends at his local Renaissance Faire. His corsets are all handmade, high quality and absolutely beautiful. He's very popular and his stall is always full of customers, especially because he accommodates so many different body types.
Hob is at the Renaissance Faire with his girlfriend, and it is her goal to get one of Dream's corsets. She's saved up her money, brought her measurements, etc. Hob decides to indulge her and try on one of the men's corsets Dream has available, and he has a million realizations at once about his body and how good it can look in a well fitting corset.
Ultimately, Hob doesn't buy his own corset even though his girlfriend agrees he looks amazing and absolutely deserves to have a nice quality corset of his own. But Hob is saving up money to propose, and he just doesn't have the extra cash to spend it on an impulse. His girlfriend leaves happily with her purchase though and swears they'll be back next year to get her a second one AND Hob's first corset.
One year later, Hob is back but he's alone this time. Turns out they wanted different things in life so they broke up and it's fine. They're still friendly. But Hob hasn't stopped thinking about that corset. Or the gorgeous coset maker at the Faire. And now that he no longer has a girlfriend to buy an engagement ring for, he now has a lot of extra cash to buy himself a corset... or three.
Hi this is so good!!!! I’m super obsessed with corsets in general and I am constantly in awe of corsetieres, their craftsmanship, and their dedication to making things that are size inclusive. The fact that we’re all acknowledging now that men in corsets are fucking incredible is a very good thing indeed.
I’m just imagining Dream’s face lighting up because he remembers Hob from the previous year and was hoping he’d come back. If he’s honest with himself he’s VERY attracted to Hob but he disguises his interest by asking if he can take a few pictures while Hob tries on the various available styles. He’s trying to get as many pictures as possible for his website so he can show that corsets are perfect for everyone! And Hob looks so good, he clearly belongs front and centre in Dream’s new marketing strategy…
So Hob hands over his measurements, and Dream brings out a selection of different designs for him to try. Most are the traditional laced up variety, but he’s also been experimenting with Velcro as some people can’t manage the laces so easy. Hob gushes on about how talented and thoughtful Dream is, and he seems to be completely in his element as he tries each one on and poses for photos. Dream blushes and stammers and asks if Hob’s girlfriend liked her corset? Which leads to Hob explaining about the breakup.
Dream feels a huge sense of relief, and doesn’t feel quite so terrible about the fact that he can’t keep his eyes off Hob’s fantastic tits. The way the corset compresses the fabric of his shirt and makes absolutely sure that his chest hair is visible is driving Dream wild. His hands are shaking so much, he’s not even sure if the pictures he’s taking will be in focus.
Hob finally decides which corsets he’ll be taking home, and he can’t resist kissing the back of Dream’s hand in thanks. And when he cautiously asks if Dream would care to meet him at the mead tent when he’s due for a break, Dream nearly abandons his stall altogether just at the mere offer. Luckily, one of the other vendors offers to watch his stall for a bit, so Hob is able to spirit Dream away just for a little while. Yes, they do spend the whole time making out in a quiet corner, and yes, Dream does finally cop a feel of the Hoboobies.
Hob is about to have sooooo many pretty outfits designed just for him, the lucky bastard. In all fairness, he was absolutely made to wear corsets. Dream definitely isn’t letting him go!
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hi 👋
may I request a reader that is a pack rat but with useful things? like they’re always ready with something in their bag to help tf141 with their needs. wether its a snack, an extra shirt, or whatever. they’re just dora with their backpack lol
and the men are always in awe bc ‘how are they always ready for any situation’?? it can be platonic or romantic but would surely love some fluff with it. please and thank you! 🥰
hello love!!! you can indeed request that!!! this is such a cute idea!!!
you suggested dora with the backpack, which is very valid, but my brain also jumps to daphne blake from scooby doo bc that girl carries a tiny ass purse and has everything under the sun and can make shit on the fly like nothing (there was one episode where she made a hydroelectric battery to power the mystery machine like it was nothing lol)
so taking both of those vibes and jumping headfirst in!!! here's a tidbit from how I think a fic with that might go!! (also I kept reader gender neutral in this one, bc you didn't specify any pronouns!)
It's finally happened, Soap is sure of it. The 141 has finally run into a situation that BP isn't gonna have the supplies for.
BP is the callsign of the team medic, which is why you could be forgiven for thinking their name is short for 'blood pressure.'
It's not.
It's short for 'backpack.'
Soap had chuckled when he first heard it, but those little chuckles quickly died when he realised his superiors were serious. All they'd say was that you were uniquely skilled at anticipating the needs of your teammates on any given mission, as well as a well-qualified and well-trained field medic and surgeon.
That first mission, everything had gone FUBAR, including the exfil being shot down, leaving the team stranded in enemy territory with their only possible transport being new black-market Humvees with remote locking systems that were thus far unbreakable. Price and Ghost had been conversing over a plan of attack when you'd simply opened up your ever present backpack and pulled out a small handheld remote. Flipping a switch, you pointed it at the nearest Humvee, and an audible click! indicated it was now unlocked.
They'd all stared for a solid minute before you coughed and said "Uh, about that exfil?" and the team jerked into action and dove for the doors of their new escape vehicle. When asked what the fuck kind of wizard tech you had, you simply shrugged and said it was a universal remote.
Soap had figured it for a one-off. He'd never been more wrong.
Ghost's balaclava gets irreparably damaged and covered in gross bodily fluids? You've got a brand new one in the exact size he needs, made from water resistant fabric.
Price's cigars get lost in (yet another) heli crash? You've got a brand new box of Maduro cigars in that backpack, the only explanation being that you'd "found them while out shopping."
Gaz loses his ball cap, and you whip out a spare without even a second glance, shoving it onto his head without a care in the world, even as he's sputtering because "how the hell do you have the same damn cap? I bought that old one years ago!"
Alejandro's iPod gets destroyed after the team has to flee through a river and all their gear gets waterlogged, and out of a Ziploc, you pull a brand new one with the headphones he likes, and he's shocked to see it's downloaded with all his favorite songs, and the default setting is currently on Spanish.
Rudy's a diabetic, and his insulin pump gets damaged in a knife fight, and not only do you have insulin for him, you have a brand new pump as well, and specific snacks that will help him hold out till he can replace the pump. It's originally brushed off that you have this because of being the team's doctor, until Rudy points out that you don't actually have access to his medical records, with him being Mexican Special Forces and you being SAS.
And Soap? Soap ran out of room in his journal one day, in the middle of trying to sketch and he hadn't realized how close he was to the end, so he hadn't brought a spare. Before he even has the chance to feel disappointed, you're slipping a brand new journal with the exact right type of paper he prefers into his hands.
It's not just personal stuff either. Any tool, gadget, gizmo, whirlygig, or thingamabob they could think of, you just... had it. Wrenches, screwdrivers, hammers, lockpicks, extra mags, oil, cleaning rags, padlocks, bolt cutters, bandaids, needles, suture thread, ice packs, heat packs, gauze, hair ties, bobby pins, the list goes on and on and on.
Never, not once had there been a situation where the team had needed something that you couldn't pull from the dark, yawning pit that you called a backpack.
Except, Soap is confident that this time, you don't have what they need. You couldn't possibly have predicted this outcome.
The mission had been a comedy of errors, the team racing across the globe, bouncing between countries, hopping from continent to continent tracking the HVT Laswell had sent the lot of you after. Through a completely random turn of events, you'd ended up in the United States of all places, in the wooded areas of Washington state. It wasn't a state park, per se, but close enough. Supposedly, there was a cache here that the HVT frequented, and might have valuable intel.
Unfortunately, your way had been blocked by some State Park Rangers, who demanded that you either provide proof of registration that allowed you to be there, or the team had to leave.
Of course, being members of the SAS and Fuerzas Especiales, who operated out of Europe and Mexico respectively, the likelihood of any of them having the right paperwork was infinitesimal.
"Hold on!"
Soap whirled around at the sound of your voice. There you were, rummaging through your backpack.
"No fuckin' way," Gaz whispered, the rest of the team going deathly still.
There was absolutely, positively, no possible way on God's green Earth that you were gonna–
"Found it!"
You let out a whoop of excitement, pulling a small rectangular piece of plastic from your bag, a hole through the top indicating that it might go in a car, hanging from the rearview mirror.
"Here's our permit for the Washington State Parks and Forestry. Just renewed it, too."
The Rangers took it sceptically, but their faces cleared as they looked it over.
"Everything seems to be in order then, ma'am. Sorry for the delay and confusion."
"No problem!" You chirped, ignorant of the dumbfounded stares at your back. "Have a good day, gentlemen!"
Soap felt dizzy. He felt weak. He might actually collapse here on the spot from pure confusion alone. He could faintly hear Gaz muttering behind him, and in his peripheral vision, Alejandro was shaking with silent laughter, and Rudy looked like he'd just been handed the answers to the universe's greatest mysteries.
This had to be a dream. Soap refused to accept reality otherwise.
The Rangers left, and there was a heavy, oppressive silence that settled over the team. BP turned to look at everyone with a smile on their face, only for it to fall when they saw the stunned, blank looks their teammates wore.
"What's wrong?"
Bless 'em, they sounded so confused, but Soap really had no way to express just what he or any of the others were feeling in this moment.
As BP's face fell further, Price surged forward and scooped their medic and resident pack rat into a hug. They let out a small eep! at the sudden constricting pressure around their ribs. It was difficult to hug with tac vests on, but Price was determined.
"C-Captain? Are you alright?"
"Never change, soldier," Price said gruffly, and Soap could hear the disbelieving grin in his CO's voice. "Never fuckin' change."
#asks#asked and answered#anon#anon ask#I hope you liked this anon!!#a fun lil drabble#tf 141#141#captain john price#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#alejandro vargas#rodolfo rudy parra#reader#gn reader#gender neutral reader#fluff#also maybe a bit of crack
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hey! you're super cool and i wanna know: how to find cool scene clothes and where to look :3 im in the uk and a beginner in scenemo style (i listen to the music too :3)
aw, thank you honey!
my number one suggestion is thrift/charity shops! you can find genuine pieces from back in the day, and more modern pieces for cheaper than brand new. it's ecologically sustainable by keeping less clothes out of landfills, which is super punk. you can also find a lot of accessories this way as well
i think it can also depend on your sub-style. are you a layered cami with a ton of chunky necklaces and skirt layer over leggings scemo? a band tee and shutter shades scene kid? a hoodie and skinny jeans emo? a kandi crazed scenecore raver? all of the above? you can find a lot of basic pieces (solid colored tops, jeans, hoodies) for any sub-style thrifted! it doesn't have to be things with prints or patterns!
of course, for really niche things, pickings are a bit more slim. but the good news is a lot of mascots, media, and bands that are popular in the scene have either stayed relevant, or have had a comeback! so it is possible to find things like hello kitty and some band merch thrifted. (a lot of cute mascot and "girly" stuff ends up in womens/teen girls sections, and a lot of band merch and "masculine" stuff ends up in mens/teen boys sections. i also find patterns like leopard, star, and skull prints can end up in either section)
i wouldn't say there's a "technique" to shopping, but by color/pattern for some pieces like tank tops i find works. by cut for dresses, such as if it flares in a tutu-like manner if you vibe with that for example. i often just look at all the tshirts because you never know what can be screenprinted on them unless you look!
there's also the resale market, like depop and ebay. i find those are hit and miss because oftentimes they inflate prices, especially for really sought after brands (tripp fairy shirts or bondage pants as an example.) i also find it less appealing that there's no fitting room to try things on in, and often you have to pay shipping. i personally recommend it most if you have a very specific thing you're trying to find, or for accessories since they're pretty much one-size-fits-all or hard to get one that won't fit, like belts
if you can't find things thrifted, a lot of brands still sell merch new for reasonable enough prices, and a lot of them sell to different retailers. i'm in the us so i'm not as familiar with uk retailers unfortunately, but i know a lot of brands and retailers also ship internationally
truffleshuffle is a retailer i've ordered from in the past based out of the uk, and i believe they carry some brands that i even wore back in the day, such as loungefly
for other accessories, this may sound ridiculous, but sometimes childrens' sections may have things, like cute bows in a girls section, or hats in a boys section. for some jewelry, plastic and gaudy is popular in scemo style, so fake plastic jewelry in cute colors could work! that's also a section to look for things like cartoon merch, if there's anything you can find in your size
you could also franken-style, say if you find a shirt that's too small but has a print you like; you could cut it out, and sew it onto another shirt, maybe jazz it up with studs or safety pins? sewing bows and applying studs to pieces is a way to make basic pieces more scemo too
i hope any of this was helpful ;w;
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Hey I don’t know if this is really a big issue among trans guys but I constantly find myself questioning my identity due to the fact I can’t find any clothing or looks on men that I like. This with the fact I’m a poc makes it like weird to look for clothing styles I enjoy. Like I keep going “am I really a man if I prefer feminine clothing? Am I just lying? Should I stay feminine?” So long story short I was wondering if theirs any like styles that look good really on men or tips for when your not feeling masculine? Or just tips on feeling more masculine pre transition in general?
Thank you for your ask, anon.
I myself am pre-transition, medically speaking. I don't necessarily do much in the means of "passing" for reasons I don't feel the need to share. My opinion may not be as valid to some of you because of this, but I'll share things that my male friends do that I've observed.
My major piece of advice in terms of clothing is don't go rushing to the men's section of a store and pick up all the large, body-covering garments you can find. Playing to your body type is important, and you should probably aim to go for a size down of what you initially assume you want in men's sizes.
Brands I usually go for are general sports brands like Nike, Adidas, Reebok etc, as well as second-hand SuperDry and H&M. (Also, if you buy something and it's too big, throw it in the wash and dryer several times.)
Dark tones are traditionally masculine as well if you want to stay safe, however there are a lot of men who wear light tones, it just depends on the style.
Layering also works in my case, but it's only helpful in winter. I find when I wear a coat over a hoodie over a t-shirt, I tend to pass a lot better. (Puffer jackets are really good for emulating this, especially North Face or similar dupes.)
Also, if you wear glasses, order some more boxy-looking prescription glasses with darker or more muted frames. These generally appear more masculine at first glance, but you can ask an optician or your friend for an opinion of what looks more masc on your face. Spend a lot of tine on this, because you obviously wear your glasses more often than certain outfits.
I'd also say that it depends on the "type" of guy you're looking to present as. I have a lanky build with longer legs, so I wear straight-legged jeans to only discreetly hide curves.
Overall, it just takes a bit of experimentation. This post may not be that helpful to everyone, because I'm using my own life as an anecdote, so I apologise in advance. There is no right way to pass, and a few people warp the meaning of passing to looking more western-centric, however I've learned that this is poor advice.
As for feeling more masculine, you could:
Buy male deodorant, shower gel or aftershave and shave with a razor marketed towards men
Buy male underwear and pajamas
Try skin-tone coloured transtape (if you can find it, it's a horror to find dark brown trans tape)
Work out every day (don't rush into this, and consistency is key)
Experiment with masculine hairstyles.
If any of you would like a separate post with specific resources for any of these, or my own personal recommendations for products and clothing, I'd be happy to share.
Sidenote: passing ≠ feeling masculine. You're doing this for yourself, not for others.
#force masc#forced masculinisation#forced masculinization#ftm forced masculinisation#ftm forced masculinization#autoandrophilia#t4t#roachification#ftm cnc#asks#boy hypnosis#boy hypno#passing#transmasc#trans masc#ftm hypno#ftm
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Pleasure + Pain | Tangerine
Warnings: sexual content, blood, injuries, cursing
Tangerine masterlist
Word Count: 2.3k
You’ve been through hell. Even if he hadn’t been there to see you fight your way through men twice your size, taking your punches and leaving only ghosts in your wake, he would be able to tell from the way you move around your kitchen. There’s a tenderness in your movements, like you’re taking care to make your movements smooth and fluid.
The shirt you’re wearing has to be his; it falls halfway down your thighs, covering enough of your to appear modest. You both know modesty isn’t something you’re concerned about at this point (he’s bandaged you up enough times to see almost all of you), but it drives him insane to think of you going through your closet and picking something of his so blatantly. Your hair, speckled with dried blood both yours and other, falls loosely from the bun you put it in, locks escaping and framing the bruiseson your face perfectly. There’s a natural life to your cheeks from your recent job well done, and you’re itching around the kitchen, keeping your ink-coverd hands busy. Some part of him wonders if you’d ever be willing to get a tattoo with him. His brain helpfully supplies images of his name sprawled across your heart, there for all of your victims to see.
In his twisted mind, he’s come to accept you as some sort of angel, claiming your souls and floating through your own life beautifully, a glowing essence around you.
As he watches you move around and pour yourself and him a cup of tea, he revels in your presence.
It’s not something he lets himself do often. There’s the chance that you’ll can’t help his stare and figure out that it’s more than partnership behind his gaze.
Without asking him, you add a dash of honey to his tea and place the flowered mug on the counter. He knows you got it at some sort of market, but he had zoned out when you told him the story. Knowing you, he thinks, it’s stolen.
A girl after his own heart.
When you lean over the counter on the other side of him, the fresh cut across your brow leaks an angry drop of blood to trace a tear’s path down your face.
He sees the way you lean into it- the pain. He sees how you favor the leg that took a knife deep into its flesh. How you pick at your nails until they bleed and absentmindedly trace your scars, pressing on them to search for that dull ache.
He sees it and he has no idea why it makes him feel the way that he feels. Of course, he’s not the most emotionally available person most of the time, and he isn’t always aware of his feelings.
He doesn’t know why it makes him picture you underneath him, your head tossed back into creamy white pillows, tears leaking from your eyes as he asks you for more. He sees marks- ones he left- on your wrists and lining your hips, a checkerboard of him on your thighs.
You’re staring at him now. You’ve probably asked him something, and all he can think about is how pretty your lips look when you say his name.
“Tan?” you ask, your voice on the edge of soft and deceptive in its quietness. He’s seen you with blood dripping from your hands, but the only word he can think of right now is pure. “Do I have something on my face?”
“No, love. It’s nothing,” he assures you. You keep looking at him skeptically, your eyes filled with doubt, a half-grin on your face.
You must find something in his gaze you don’t like, because you look down into your mug, your red-painted fingernail twirling the tea’s string in between your fingers.
He can’t stand the silence, so he says, “You did good today.” You deserve to know that, even if it’s from him.
“Tan,” you state, edge to your tone, a familiar blaze in your eyes, “What are you playing at?”
“I’m not,” he defends. “I’m just telling you that you properly dealt with those fucking pricks.”
“I always do.” You take a sip of your tea and settle yourself on top of the countertop, sliding to where you’re across from him. He leans forward in response, taking in the overwhelming scent of you that fills the minimum space left between you.
“Yeah,” he agrees. “How’s your leg?” It’s not because he’s worried that he asks; he’s seen you take worse. If he can remind you of the pain, he can keep you leaning into the comfortable atmosphere you’ve created.
It’s like you’ve forgotten about the pain until he brings it up. He sees the moment you remember, though, because animation fills your face. You look excited, like he’s brought up a wedding ring instead of the stab wound on your thigh.
“S’fine,” you whisper. You’re smart enough to recognize the trap he’s setting for you. You wouldn’t allow for him to run his hand along the bandages on your thigh if you didn’t want it.
You could kill him if you wanted. But you don’t; you let him press down against the growing red stain, a gasp lodged in your throat, your hand grasping the wrist that’s sliding across your neck.
It’s obscene, the way your eyes flutter shut when you lean into his touch, like this is normal. Like anything about this isn’t totally fucked.
“Tan,” you warn lowly, but it’s an empty threat and you both know it. There’s nothing to ruin here, no invisible line to cross. He always knew it would lead to this, and so did you.
He presses until blood drips down your leg, slow and beaded, the bandage angry and full. Every muscle in your body is tense- he can feel it underneath his hands that search and tease and discover. The scar on your shoulder, the burn on your ribs, the raised tissue of the newly etched tattoo along your spine. All of it, together, has you going boneless against him, your weight leaning against his broad shoulders, your head finding a place in the crook of his neck, your shaky breaths wet against the undone collar of his shirt.
He doesn’t know if you’re aware of the sounds you’re making, whining noises in the back of your throat, fucking unbearable for him to listen to and not address.
“What do you need, love?” He has so many ideas of what you could say. His fingers, his mouth, his cock. Any of it he’s willing to give; he burns with the thought of giving any of it to you. “I swear to God, I’ll fucking give you whatever you ask for.”
When you don’t answer, he grabs your chin between two fingers tipped with blood and brings your face out from his neck.
Oh, he thinks. He never should have let you hide away. There’s heat in your face, making you look healthy and happy and fucked out of your mind. He’s barely even touched you and your lips are swollen from biting them to keep quiet and from leaving marks along his throat. He files it away for later to make sure he hears you at full volume- no embarrassment to keep him from getting to experience you. Your eyes, so bright and full of fight usually, are still bright, but there’s a shine of tears in them. Whether it’s from the pain or the pleasure, he doesn’t know, but either way he takes it in with satisfaction.
“Aren’t you fucking pretty?” he coos, more sincere than he means it to. All you can do is nod in response, your eyes glassy and your chest heaving. It occurs to him that you would agree with anything he said right now; it’s a dizzying thought, a grounding thought. “Can you answer me, love?” It comes out gentler than anything else he’s said tonight, and it must work because you manage to whisper a breathy “yes.” While a smile that’s probably too knifelike, he cups your face, reveling in the warmth of your skin.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asks next. Your eyes go round and a frown finds its way to your face and, no, he can’t have that. With a kiss to your forehead, he smooths away the upset lines and hauls you closer to the edge of the counter, your legs wrapping around his waist easily. “I won’t stop unless you want me to, darling.” Fuck church bells- the relieved sigh that comes from your lips is all he wants to hear when he dies.
“Right, then,” he mutters against the shell of your ear. “As much as I fucking love to see you in my shirt, this-” he pulls on the buttons holding your shirt together “-is going to have to go.” You try to help him with the buttons, but your shaking hands make it hard, and he gets four undone before you get one. When the shirt falls open to reveal your flimsy, last-resort bra, he lets out a low groan and pushes the rest of the fabric off your shoulders and onto the floor. You wait expectentaly while he undoes the metal clasp, your bra joining the shirt in a pile on the floor. The cool air pebbles your nipples, a shiver running down your spine. He sees it and does what he can to fix it; his hands cup you gently at first, then roughly, kneading and pinching until your legs are vicelike around his waist, begging for friction between your legs. When he’s had his fill with his hands, his mouth comes next, careful kisses and bites scattering the valley of your breasts as he runs his hands anywhere he can find. You’re rocking with him, his curls caught tight in his grip as you push him forward and pull him back, trying to escape and chase more.
He didn’t expect it to be like this: you, following his lead, letting him take control for once. The fight in you, which he’s so used to, is gone, leaving you with puppy-dog eyes and red lips. It’s a heady thought to think he might be the only person you trust to see you like this.
You start pleading with him, and he’s only human. He would prefer for his first time to fuck you not to be up against a counter, but he doesn’t think he can wait until he carries you to your bedroom.You would probably have some protests, too.
He’s still a gentleman, though so he pulls away from you, despite your protests, to grab the clothes on the floor and shove them underneath your head as he splays you over the counter, your back hitting the cool marble.
The thin material of your underwear slides down your blood-crusted thighs, and he tosses it somewhere behind him before he runs his hands up your legs, inching closer and closer to your heat. You’re quiet now, like if you make a noise he’ll stop, which he wouldn’t dream of. Until you ask him to, he’s going to treat you right.
When he slides his first finger in, you take it like you’ve been waiting ages, ready for him. One quickly turns into two, which turns into three. He scissors you open, not going too fast but not taking his time with you anymore. Based on the increasing volume of your moans, you want it just as badly as he does. You’re taking him in greedily, your hands searching for purchase on the smooth countertop, your hips canting up to meet the curling of his fingers.
As soon as he deems you ready, he removes his fingers, licking them off with a hum while you whine unhappily underneath him. He quiets your complaints with a kiss while he searches for a condom in his back pocket, finding it and rolling it over his length before notching himself at your entrance. He takes a moment to look at you, the clarity in your eyes, the plead on your lips. It’s enough to take a good man to his knees, and he’s no good man.
His eyes meet yours and that’s all it takes for him to push his way in, a low, loud groan leaving escaping his throat when he feels the tight, slick heat of you take him. He knows he’s not going to last long with how pent up he’s been, but he can tell you aren’t either. The pace he sets is brutal and punishing, his hips snapping into yours, one hand gripping your hip and the other pressing circles on your clit. Your eyes are screwed tightly shut, noises bubbling from your throat as he fucks you harder, faster. His lips meet yours in a kiss when he feels you tightening around him, your cunt clenching down as your orgasm crashes into you, your body going tight, your back arching as you pull him in deeper. He follows you over the edge, his head buried in your hair, murmuring sweet nothings into your skin as you both come down from your highs.
“Fuck,” you laugh, a smile finding its way to your face as you card your hands through his hair. “That was-” “Yeah,” he agrees. “It was.” Standing up straight, he pulls you with him, leading you to the bathroom where you’ll clean each other up like you have so many times in every other way but this.
You leave a trail of blood on the floors when you walk with him, leaning against him for support, his hand on the small of your back. The fight in your eyes is back, and he’s expecting hell from you about the bruises covering your body tomorrow.
Maybe you’re not an angel, but he’s not convinced you aren’t some sort of avenginig devil, here to torture him with your smile and your laugh and your sex. He’ll follow you no matter what, though. Every part of you calls for him, and he’s more than willing to answer for anything you ask.
First he has to clean you up and get you to bed. You’ll be a devil again tomorrow; right now, you’re his.
#tangerine#tangerine smut#tangerine x you#tangerine x reader#tangerine bullet train#tangerine x y/n#tangerine fanfiction#tangerine fic#tangerime fanfic#bullet train#atj
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I know you did this analysis a few months ago, but now with the cons in progress and the ones that wouldn't have Jared having already happened, do you notice a difference in the amount of audience in the ones where he was and the ones he wasn't? At first it seemed so to me. But we had two cons where I heard comments from the actors about how crowded it was. And one had Jared and the other didn't.
So the problem is that I have ADHD which means I get bored with topics, but also I realized that I needed to control for more variables and get a lot more data.
For example, I predicted that Columbus would do better than SF regardless of if Jared showed up. Why? At the cons, they'll ask how many new timers and at least half if not more of the audience raises their hands.
If it's a new city in a place with a lot of Supernatural fans, then you'll get a high turn out and Ohio is definitely a place with a lot of Supernatural fans.
A lot of these first timers find out about the conventions through local media and, if it's the first one for their city, they aren't going to care as much which specific guests will attend as long as at least one lead is there.
Conversely, if a new city has a low turn out, it may not be because of Jared absent, but because of a low marketing reach or interest in Supernatural. Therefore, I don't think you can use new cities to accurately judge the Jared effect.
At SFcon, which is a well established con, the audience dropped by probably a half, definitely 1/3, but then a lot of us knew we could do other cons with Jared. That's a con where I think you can measure how much the con suffered by not having Jared attend. So we should only be looking at cons where Jared is added in or didn't attend this year.
But if you look at, say Seattle, Jared was added rather late, so that doesn't show how many would've showed up had he been added earlier. If I had known earlier, I would've switched SF for Seattle, but by the time Seattle was announced, I didn't have the ability. In the summer, a lot of people have vacation plans, so you'll want something that's announced ahead of time by at least 3 months.
Also, at SFcon, JDM dropped as well, so you can't say that Jared alone was the reason it dropped so dramatically from last year. If JDM had been there, I suspect it would be closer to Burbank.
So you'll need cons where Jared attended last year, but didn't this year: SFcon
Or cons where Jared was added with a decent amount of time: Charlotte, DC, Orlando
[Please let me know if I'm missing any!]
The problem with cons where Jared was added in was that I'll need data from other cons/other years at that con that show how many more seats were bought in comparable time spans. I would have to grab screenshots from a lot of other cons and calculate how many seats are sold first month, second month, etc, and then compare that to the Jared added on cons in order to ascertain if there's a difference between a natural increase versus people joining just because of Jared.
I'm not spending my time doing that. If someone wants to grab that data for me, I'd be happy to run the numbers, but that's a lot of work and my ADHD brain has already moved onto other more interesting data sets.
More than all that, having attended both Burbank and SFcon, there were a lot of Jared fans at both! At SFcon, there were a lot of people running around with these large red pins that said Team Moose. There were people wearing Jared/Sam shirts and he got votes close to Dean and Castiel despite fewer fans there relative to the other two.
I think it's safe to say that SFcon isn't returning because Jared wasn't there, but a sample size of 1 is not a good sample size. That may reflect the people of Bay Area more than the Supernatural con fandom as a whole.
[I'm also struck by now many men and families with small children attend the SFcon as compared to the other cons]
One interesting thing is that this shows that many of our filmers are more likely to be Jared leaning fans. It also proves to me that Jensen/Misha fans are not more likely to attend Friday/Sat. There used to be this claim by Jared antis that Jared fans were terrible to the other cast members and only showed up on Sunday.
At both Burbank/SF, the turn out for question asking and Fri/Sat panels was embarrassingly low and there were times when no one went up to ask a question.
Sunday was absolutely packed at SFcon compared to the other two days. Lots of empty seats earlier. I also noticed that there was a greater percentage of new people on Friday and Sat compared to Sunday. It was about 1/2 new on Sat and 1/3 new on Sunday.
I think that it's more a reflection of the GA than fans of particular actors.
For example, I noticed at SFcon a lot of people saying, "Who's that????" in regards to some con staples like Adam Rose and Jason Manns. I was with people who had to be reminded who Kim and Bri were. They also didn't remember the golem episode, but when I pulled up photos of Adam Rose and they saw him in a construction vest, they recognized him. So I think the low turn out is less people actively disliking other guests, but people who genuinely don't know them.
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Eternal Bloodlines
Adriana tepes/ Alucard x Male Dhampire reader
This fanfic is for 18+ Audience's due to it containing gorey themes and later on smut.
Also available on A03
Chapter 5
It didn't take you long to make it to gresit after you left the caravan of speakers. After speaking to Sye you were curious on how you would find passageways under the church. You sighed as you rubbed your horse's mane.
"I fucking hate churches Haldin." You tell him and your horse let out a huffing sound that almost sounded like a snort and it made you smile just a little. You traveled down the worn roads to greet Gresit's large walls and gates. They were open but the sight of men dragging out dead bodies from various stages of injuries also greeted you.
You rode Haldin past them and into the gates to see many more people trying to clean the dead off of buildings and the ground, some chunking bodies over a bridge that was starting to pile up and stink bringing in insects and rodents. You looked at the piling bodies as Haldins hoofs clanked against the brink bridge moving down the streets.
Such a waste.
You huffed before reaching the center of the town and finding a place to tie your horse up as you moved through the markets. You would start getting the locals gossip before you tried going straight to the church, if anyone knew a way inside without alarming the priest and all the other churchy men the market would be a great place to start.
It was still early morning so it wasn't packed. Market vendors were already trying to set up their stalls, still trying to make a living in these hellish times Dracula brought onto them. You moved to one that seemed to a woman selling dried meat and other things. Walking up to her stall she turned and looked at you taking in your exposed chest despite your cloak covering your shoulders and sash.
"Lost your shirt boy?" She asked you and you chuckled.
"Of sorts." You responded as you looked over the dried meat items and fresh, you bit on your tongue as you thought before looking at her.
"Do you have any pig's blood?" You asked, You hated pigs blood, it always made you have a bad case of burps and on worst occasions it gave you the Shits. Yet you could feel your hunger start to pick up being in a city with so many humans, and it was apparently more common for humans to take it and make blood stew..It was a hilarious find to you several months back, that humans would also eat blood themselves just under different circumstances.
"I have piglets. It will be six silver coins."
The Woman raised a brow at you but you nodded pushing your hand into the parcel that held your money and gave her the coins. You watched her put them away and move to the back of the stall vanishing behind the curtains of blankets. You could hear the small squealing from a piglet and the hefty chop sound of a chop block. You waited for a little while more until she came back around with a mid sized jug with a cork popped into it and slid it to you.
"Don't get young folk like you asking for pig's blood." She comments as you grab the jugs handle.
"Its for my father." You say and she seems to nod allowing you to leave the conversation. You moved stall to stall talking to merchants and some of the local shoppers before you slipped into the alleyways of Gresit. Popping the cork you brought the jug to your lips and tilting it back tasting the still warm and fresh piglet's blood on your tongue slipping back to your throat and down to your stomach. Your body is already greedily absorbing it into your own blood stream and to make energy from it all.
You pulled the jug away feeling the churning of your stomach before a loud belch came from your lips making you grimace and look at the jug.
"Fucking pigs blood." You muttered and continued moving down the alleys heading behind the church taking the gossip from the vendors and local men. Finished with your jug you tossed it as you looked at the supposedly church's garden wall. A local woman said that all the church's workers would be in mass and choir until noon and the halls would be empty. The Back gardens doors are usually left unlocked, you looked up and nodded to yourself as you started scaling up the back wall and leaping over rolling on your shoulders as you landed and moved to bounce back up. You took in the withered and depressing state of the garden, it seems no one here was able to properly tend to it at all. You moved quickly through the garden towards the church's door and grabbed the handle only to jerk back with a hiss. Your hand now bright bloody red as you held it away from the knob.
Silver….fucking churches.
You growled slowly as you shook your hand and grabbed your cloak to wrap it around the handle before twisting and shoving against the door causing it to fly open to empty halls. With a steeled breath you glanced both ways, unsure to where exactly you were to go from here, however it wasn't like you were going to walk as a man. Taking a step the world is blurring around you as you examine through halls and all the church's decor, moving in and out rooms, even some grand library. You moved through monks' bedrooms and scribers' work rooms, studies and other sorts of things. You had found the wine cellar and you paused, grabbing a glass bottle and reading it before shrugging and smashing the top off against the wine bottle shelves and brushing away the broken glass and taking a swig of the warm wine.
"Tastes like shit." You sputtered as you looked at the bottle and left it on the shelf you had plucked it away from, you were about to leave the cellar completely until you heard a soft hissing sound and clunking. You paused, turning your head and started to move to the very bag of the cellar where another hiss echoed. Looking up at the cellars ceiling you noticed it right away, some sort of metal piping that ran down the back wall behind some shelves.
Your father had told you of such things, how Dracula's castle was covered in them and how they could deliver hot water and other things as well.
"So why is that in a church?" You hummed out before leaving the wine cellar zipping through the church's halls once more trying to find a new entrance.
Humans liked to pay to bury their dead in fancy death tombs yea?
You thought as you found an entrance with nothing but stairs leading downwards. You moved down them not bothering with making yourself a torch, you didn't exactly need one to see in the dark. The smell of dust and moisture of mold growing strong in your nose the further you go down. You listened to drops of water dripping from the catacombs ceilings but it wasn't what you were fully after as you could hear the soft hiss to tell you where the metal pipes were. You followed them, weaving through piles of dead bones and rows of skeletons in the walls as you followed the pipes down and down.
The odd twists in the halls and how they narrowed more and more tight as you went lower and deeper into the earth.
You soon came to a dead end but a metal pipe continued through the wall. You placed your ear against it and could hear the noise chatter of machinery. You moved away from the wall and glared at it as you backed away before charging at the bricks slamming your shoulder into it causing it to loudly collapse and send you falling to deep depths.
"Oh fuck!" You shouted as you plummeted downwards hitting metal spires and gears.
You had landed quite awkwardly, legs twisted at wrong angles and your right arm dislocated in several places. You were sure your spine was even fucked as well.
You groaned feeling the spikes of pain shoot through your body as you moved to push yourself up.
Still not as bad as what father put me through.
You thought as you grabbed your fucked up arm and started snapping your bones back into place. You felt your spine snap and jerk as it repositioned back into place as you started snapping your legs back into place again hissing out harshly.
"There better be a fucking man down here." You muttered as you moved, forcing yourself up and started to move through the darkness of this uncaving pit under the church.
How the hell you would get Sye down here safely was beyond your thought process.
Not like I can fly.
You thought bitterly as you explored this old world technology that was supposedly only found in Dracula's Castle.
You would have to find another entrance in and out of this place to be able to bring the speaker woman down.
Gresit wasn't warm to them at all, Sypha watched from behind her hood as Gresit's people showed their displeasure towards her family. They still moved forward until they were into the center of the city spreading out to give survivor's food and clean drinking water they could provide them with. They gave them supplies and were trying to teach them ways to organize. The morning turned to the afternoon and her family was greeted more and more by peoples displeasure. It was like the dislike for speakers was steaming from somewhere, and with the sun starting to climb to sit above the giant crosses Over one large building that could rival a castle, Sphya knew where. The church, The house of god. Sypha had learned so many stories of god, of Gods and she never thought she would learn of one god so cruel that he would encourage followers to burn people at stakes, kill people for being different, for learning and trying to heal others with magic. While Some magic wasn't as good or pure as other it didn't mean that all magic was evil, tainted. She didn't understand a god that had conditional love for his people, his followers. Or how he could allow corrupted men to speak for him.
She handed out a parcel of goods to someone and a horse's noises caught her attention, making her look up. Her eyes widened as she noticed your horse tied at a stand and she made her way to it running her hand over his side and to his neck to his muzzle.
"Hello there…Haldin was it?" She spoke to the horse and it made noises of stomping its foot. She chuckled before untying his reins and leading him to her family's caravan.
"Seriously, did he even think about you losing your shade and being stuck in the sun?"
Haldin merely made a snorting noise as she led him to her other horses.
"That would mean he is actually carrying out his word yea?" She muttered to herself before smiling and heading back to help passing out more parcels. She talked to any of the locals who were willing to have conversations with her and she had managed to get a man to stop and talk.
"You know. You're the second person I had today interested in the church's routines." He spoke and she looked up at him through her hood.
"Oh?" She asked, making sure to deepen her voice.
"Yea some strange man with a large ax on his back and no shirt came through the markets today, we chatted over some ale, strange though he was carrying a jug of pigs blood around for his father." The man told her, seeming eager to gossip.
Sypha raised a brow at that.
Pig's blood?
She didn't know on earth why you would be carrying pigs' blood but she could guess that perhaps you had wanted to make a stew later when you were back on the road. She wondered if you knew how to maintain it well enough for it to last until then, but she doubted it since you had left your horse in an area where his shade was being stolen from the sun.
Men.
She thought amusingly. It seemed like no matter where they came from, they were all just a little slow.
"Well I believe this may be his horse, if you see him please tell him that we are tending to it." Sypha told the man and he nodded before moving to a stall, joining behind it with a woman.
By the evening Sypha and Her family had cleared out an old abandoned house for them to take shelter in for the night, there was plenty of room for them all to rest and leave the horses outside to graze. She was hoping that you would return back to them all that night and she could learn of what you had found, but you didn't return at all.
The morning didnt bring you but the local priests and his monks. Syoha watched her Grandfather try to peacefully talk to them but the priests had no intentions for peace telling them that they had a half a month to leave the town and never to return. They deemed that even that was far more generous than they would have liked and her grandfather had agreed to it. Thanking them for the time they were allowing them to help the people as best as they could. Her family had sat down for breakfast and Sypha couldn't take the silence as she stood looking at her Grandfather.
"I am going to search for Y/n and join him in finding the sleeping soldier!" She had told him.
"Child-"
"No Grandfather, I can not sit and let one man go looking alone who doesn't know the stories well. If anything he could be hurt. I am going to aid him." She said more firmly and her grandfather sighed before standing walking to her and grabbing her shoulders.
"You have your mothers spark." He then said to her warmly rubbing the top of her head like he would do to a child. Sypha had bristled some but she didn't protest much as he moved his head away.
"Fine. Go, but be back before sunset." He had told her and Sypha grinned before pulling her hood up and took off from the house.
She had checked the Markets in hopes she would see you, but you were nowhere to be seen. Last night was a lucky one, no night creatures came but that didn't mean you were not in danger or possibly dead. She knew that the sleeping soldier had to be asleep somewhere in the catacombs of Gresit, and the stories only had very few clues as to where in Gresit that was but she was determined to head towards the supposed area. But she also was determined to find you as well. She had hoped you had not injured yourself in looking for a passageway under the church. She saw the man from.yesterday and rushed towards him.
"That man you saw and spoke to yesterday. Where did you tell him to enter the church again?" She asked hoping he would tell her as well. The man had turned and looked at her before scratching his neck.
"I told myself to climb the back wall of the church into their garden, everyone inside would be at mass and choir. I told him he only had until noon, so if he got caught that was on him." He told her and Sypha gave him her thanks and moved through the markets lost in thought.
If you didn't get caught which she had seen you fight and doubted as such, then perhaps you were in the catacombs trying to find a way out that's not directly inside of the church. She wasn't sure why she was so hopeful in your abilities but there was something different about you, and it wasn't just because you came from other seas.
Perhaps it was the way you carried yourself, or how you looked at each of her family members without judgment.
There was something Different about you but she wasn't sure what exactly. You did have the slight smell of magic too, but not an overbearing amount and how easily your ax sliced through those night creatures she wondered if the magic she smelt came from your weapon. She made progress around the city, traveling through back roads and other roads that avoided the church; she wanted to keep a distance from the church for now. They were threatening her family after all and she didn't want to send more trouble their way while she was in short, snooping around.
While avoiding the church she headed to the city's graveyard, which was just outside of the city, she looked around at the graves whispering soft words of respect. She paused when seeing a tomb hidden in the back of the graveyard and she moved towards it. She hoped it would by chance be another opening to the catacombs and that it would lead her to find you, she pushed the doors open and was greeted to stairs which she moved down. She didn't bother with the torches, instead causing a ball of light to form above her fingers as she moved through the catacombs.
"Y/n?" She called hearing her voice echo as she moved further and farther down following the path.
"Y/n? Are you down here?" She called once more, slightly hoping you would respond but she was only greeted with nothing but her echoes. She stopped just at the bottom of the stairs sighing before she continued to pass on until she came to a fork of passages, looking down each once she chose to go to the left on first, if it led to nowhere she would try the right.
She tried to be careful, not wanting to disturb the dead as she moved through their final resting place. But she did look at them, wondering who they were when they were alive. What did they do?
She hardly doubted any poor folk were in this crypt, she had only seen the more wealthier families have ceremonies where their dead were carried to crypts…
Sypha should have been watching her step, if she hadn't been so lost in thought about the dead and other things then maybe she would have seen the crumbling bricks before she stepped on them. She let out a scream as the ground gave away under her feet causing her to fall.
The landing wasn't a pretty one.
She coughed up dust from her throat as she looked around seeing a messy hall held up by columns. Strange statues scattered around the area and she eyed them warily when she passed them. Her eyes snapped to the column as magic torches lit up brightening the room causing her to grow distracted at being in awe. She had never seen such wonders before and she wondered what enchantment spell they worked under. Her focus was pulled when she heard large footsteps that shook the ground and when she saw what caused them she let out a scream that was soon taken from her as a bright light consumed her.
She felt her body stiffening and she felt her heart pound and pound until it was too stiff.
When she had awoken she had thought it was You who had found her, she would have preferred you. And not the smelly rude man who had found her instead, Trevor Belmont. A miserable man that spoke in scarasms and japes, and seemingly tried to convince himself that he didn't care for anyone.
When he had taken her back to her family she learned that she had been missing for nearly an entire month and they had thought her dead. Her grandfather had shown gratitude towards him despite how rude he was. Her eyes fell on your horse and she felt guilt form in her stomach.
"Grandfather..Was y/n…did he?" She asked and she wondered if she had sent you to an early grave.
"The young man never came back..He too has been absent for as long as you." He had told her and she turned to her family.
"Has anyone not seen him? Not even the markets?"
They all had shook their heads and Sypha felt her guilt grow even more, you could have been a victim to some cruel fate like she had.
But she just had this feeling that you weren't dead, that you were alive. She didn't believe you would have left without your horse as well, you seemed far too fond of Haldin.
No…She just knew you were somehow alive and in those catacombs.
She would find you.
Sypha turned to her family to pack their things to listen to what Belmont told them to do and she moved to help them.
She wouldn't leave, she wouldn't run.
She went to Aid the Belmont and she would convince him to go back down the catacombs with her and look for you, then she and you could go find the sleeping soldier together with or without the Belmont.
You were lost.
You weren't sure how long it had been but you knew that you were lost.
You had seemed to be going in circles but you couldn't find anywhere back upwards and out of the catacombs. If you were even in them anymore. You walked underneath giant machinery of gears and other things, distant lights glowing in their dull blue hues. You had tried climbing some but the supports somehow seemed so old or so poorly built that they would crumble if you jumped too much on them to support beam to support beam. The only way was to get up but you couldn't get up so you had to travel elsewhere, choosing to follow the lights. As you moved through the strange sights of things You could hear the rats taking off as soon as you neared them. You knew you were down here for a little while since you had to resort to feeding off rodents' blood. You were just glad you couldn't get sick, and you tried not to think of what monstrosities the rodents ate.
You shuttered as you looked at the vast structures and gears that seemed to never stop grinding against each other perfectly, never jamming.
Something is down here.
You weren't sure if the stories were completely true, about some sleeping man. But you were absolutely sure that something was down here if Dracula's magical things were here as well. It seemed to travel miles underground, miles under the city. You came to rest at a support beam structure taking in the amount of rust overtaking it. Many were rusty as well, so you knew that they must've been here for ages like the stories had spoken off.
You sat down deciding to take a break as you thought over the stories and couldnt help but to sneer a laugh.
Almost sounds like a vamp-
You jumped startled at hearing things crumble and fall. You reached for your ax, snatching it off as you pushed to your feet. You haven't come across any monsters but you wouldn't doubt there being some down here.
You heard yelling and you followed it, the echoes making it hard but you followed the noises of structures falling until you came to a wall of built up rumble.
Whoever the hell was down here with you now, it was clear they were on the other side of the built up rumble. You sighed, twirling your ax as you thought as you studied the wall. It seemed too secure and there was no way you could break through it and digging through the debris would take too long even for you. You looked upwards to see how messed up the structures were and you had to focus on sharpening your eyesight to see faintly in the dark a pillar stabbing through the wall making a gap.
It was high up and you risked fucking up the rest of the structures and possibly not making it but you would just have to move fast and gently….Something you werent very good at.
Running your other hand through your hair, you didn't have much else of a choice did you?
You haven't found any other sort of an exit and now one seems to have just appeared out of nowhere and it seems to be from some other dumbasses like you who fell down here.
You moved heading to another structure and shimmied your way up it carefully as you heard the steel wanting to give out due to how badly rust eaten it was.
"Last time I did what a speaker asked me to do." You bitterly grumbled as you looked across to another structure of metal before flinging yourself to it, nearly falling when one side of a support beam snapped , falling to the ground far below you again.
"Fuck me."
You kept going as the structure crumbled and you had to fling yourself to the one jutting out of the wall just barely missing it if you hadn't looked your ax around it and held the staff as some makeshift hook.
You groaned some as your bodies had aftershocks of the movement and heaved yourself up and walked carefully to the gaping hole to find yourself on a ledge that looked over some grand luxurious hall with lovely columns adorning it and some fancy red carpet.
Lights kept it all nice and bright and in the middle were a few steps to some strange kind of magic tools and some opened coffins.
Your attention brought from them to two men fighting and A speaker woman moving out of the way.
You heard her speak, seeming to try to scold one of the men and you were slightly confused at how familiar she had sounded.
You moved jumping down and landing before walking towards the fight settling besides the speaker woman causing her to jump and look at you.
"Y/n!" The woman had exclaimed grabbing onto your arm. "You are alive, I knew it."
Your eyes never left one man.
Who was tall framed and had the sunrise for his hair and the sun itself for his eyes.
He is not human. .
And as he brought his face closer to the panting human man,
You caught sight of the light reflecting on his fangs.
Vampire.
They awoke a sleeping vampire.
chpt 6
#castlevania x reader#castlevania fanfiction#adrian tepes x reader#adrian tepes#sypha belnades#trevor belmont#18+ fanfic#x reader#x male reader#x male y/n
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New Summer Staple? Vintage Stripes!
This short-sleeved button-down from Only & Sons has made several appearances over the last several weeks, from brunch with the boys at New York Pride to fun with friends and family at Disneyland parks over the July 4th weekend.
Only & Sons is a menswear brand that emphasizes denim in their product line and markets primarily to young men, describing their signature style as "a subversive take on contemporary classics."
Only & Sons is part of the BESTSELLER international fashion company, which also owns fashion brands such as LMTD and Vera Moda. They have made sustainability a cornerstone of their marketing and PR strategy, and in June announced their participation in an effort to reduce CO2 emissions in the fashion industry.
The shirt features a slightly open resort collar for a more relaxed appearance and is made of a lightweight viscose blend that will breathe beautifully in the summer. Its textured fabric, fitted cut, and classic stripes evoke the timelessness of vintage style, which is one of the hallmarks of the brand. It comes in several colors, with the one Harvey chose being labeled as "Turquoise/Mountain Spring." It is available in sizes up to Men's XXL (47-inch chest measurement) and retails for €29.99.
Harvey typically styles this shirt with navy slack shorts, a pair of clear-framed, retro style sunglasses, and most recently, a pair of exclusive Club 33 65th anniversary mouse ears.
Affordable Options
All of the elements of this outfit are already pretty affordable, save the sunglasses and (depending on the resell source) the ears. More on both of those accessories coming in future posts!
The shirt, as mentioned above, is €29.99 (roughly $32.52 USD). You can find a pair of nice navy shorts at almost any clothing retailer that sells clothing for men this time of year, but here are some of my favorites:
Old Navy Linen Blend Chinos - These shorts are a linen blend fabric that tends to wear and wash well over time, and come in a soft navy. They have a pleated waist, a 7-inch inseam, and come in sizes up to a 54-inch waist. Originally $32.99, currently marked down to $16.47 on clearance.
Land's End No-Iron Chinos - These shorts are a dark, true navy 100% cotton twill. Note they may shrink slightly on the first wash. They have a stretch waist for added comfort and a 9-inch inseam. Originally $59.95, currently on sale for $29.97.
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Closet femboy here. I have a million questions tbh but I don't know how to say them? Do you have any tips or? I can't phrase anything right now
Oh no worries, I've been there too! Just keep in mind that I'm a trans male femboy, so there's certain possible physical tips that I can't give due to differences in body type and may be better directed to a cis femboy, if their body types are more in alignment with yours ❤️
The first thing to remember is that this is a form of expression for you. This means you need to do the things and wear the things that bring YOU joy first. For example, I'm not too fond of skirts, though every blue moon one will pop up that I can be okay wearing. People kind of assume femboy automatically means cute pink skirts, an Astolfo wig, and lots of makeup. And while those are pretty cute things, that's not going to fit everybody's tastes. Your femboy aesthetic is what YOU want to wear. For me, I'm a short shorts and fishnet bitch through and through. I've known several gothic femboys. Don't let yourself feel boxed in by what you think you can and cannot wear. Part of the rebellion is rejecting a society that expects you to act and look a certain way just because you're a dude. Don't instantly conform to something that isn't your true expression.
I would definitely learn sizing chart differences between men's and women's clothes and shoes, so you can get well-fitting clothes. Keep in mind that if you are not as comfortable with showing your chest, you will need to check if any shirts you buy are more sheer than they look, because fashion designers are awful and don't give women a lot of options in that department.
What I do to see if a shirt is sheer is to do "the hand test": just stick your hand inside the shirt. Can you see individual fingers, even if it's just their silhouette? Is that amount of translucency something you are comfortable with having on your chest?
Sometimes getting started and knowing what you actually like can be a very daunting first step. Getting clothes from secondhand stores can make that exploration a lot easier on your wallet and give you a better idea of what you do and do not want. Plus, it's a big "fuck you" to fast fashion and who doesn't love that?
Socks marketed as "thigh highs" are usually only "thigh highs" for skinny legs. If you've got more muscular or chubby thighs and calves (think: anything bigger than a stereotypical runner's legs), it's a good idea to order up in size or search for plus size thigh highs.
Listen to women*. Not just about what clothing is comfortable or which brand has pockets, but you need to be aware of what women go through and be a good ally. If you're going to embrace your femininity, you need to make sure you're not being toxic about it and instead be supportive to the community.
*I can't believe this has to be said in 20 fucking 24, but this includes trans women and intersex women, goddammit*
Perfume is a smelly, smelly scam, imo. Body mist is a lot gentler on the nose and is easier on the skin. Plus, it comes in scents you recognize and doesn't depend on how you, personally, think "Lovestruck" should smell. You're not going to stink up an aisle in the store for a sample spray to figure out what the fuck it is. Also, don't worry too much about whether something is a "masculine" or "feminine" smell, I guarantee you people with normal lives will only care that it smells nice. My favorite scent is cedar and aloe, which is normally considered "more masculine." You know who cares? Absolutely no one lol.
Being a femboy isn't just about your appearance, it's about doing more feminine things that make you happy that the patriarchy frowns on. For a lot of us, comfort items were few and far between and what we did have, we were often taught we had to give away to be worthwhile "providers." A really cool thing that we do is reject that notion and take care of ourselves. For a lot of us, that means soft things, like plushies and weighted blankets and those comfortable boot house slippers that keep your feet nice and warm and cozy. For you it might be soft socks or a warm robe or hygiene items that some of us were scoffed at for owning (like face masks or foot scrubs or manipedi kits etc). You are not just allowed, but ENCOURAGED to buy things that bring you comfort. Just make sure to do so responsibly—we all got rent to pay.
Kindness is also a must. There's a lot of vulnerability that comes with expressing yourself and you would want people to be kind as you are figuring out what works best for you, so be kind to others as well.
If you are a closet femboy, one concern may be people finding out about it. That concern is especially heightened if you don't live alone. One method my friend swears by (he's not out as gay and lives with a couple of roommates), is, if someone finds the clothes and you are not wearing them, say they're A) gifts for a friend or B) left behind by a hookup (this one never fails apparently).
If you are caught wearing the clothes and it's not safe to come out, you've lost a bet. You lost a bet and you hate it and giving a deadpan "do I LOOK like I'm having a good time" will help sell the lie.
That's...about all I can think of at the moment. I hope it helps! ☀️
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