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doberbutts · 1 month ago

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Hello all, informative trans guy post here. IF you are taking testosterone as part of your HRT or transition process, you've probably heard several times that testosterone is a controlled substance, very difficult to source, and that you are limited on the amount of which you can have at one time. You may even be wondering the truth of these claims.

Well... the answer is... that it's mostly true. But I can tell you how to make things a bit easier on yourself, if you're having a hard time.

This "guide" is 100% USAmerican based. Sorry, but I live here, and don't know how this works outside of my own country.

1: Testosterone is a controlled substance.

Well... it is. Testosterone is a controlled substance in the United States, being a Schedule III drug along with drugs like ketamine. This means that in some states, it can be very difficult to source at all and even harder to source in significant or consistent quantities. This is largely due to people taking anabolic steroids, and very little of testosterone's controlled status historically had anything to do with transgender people using it as part of their medical transition, though that is beginning to change as trans men become more visible. There are now some laws restricting the usage of testosterone for the purpose of transitioning, especially in cases of minors and young adults transitioning through their teens.

This is a little different from estrogen, which is prescription-only in its injectable form but does not have controlled status on a federal level. Testosterone, by comparison, is controlled in all of its forms and possessing it without a prescription is very illegal. While it is possible to source and make testosterone without a prescription, much like estrogen, the legal consequences for doing so are much more severe. For this reason, this is not a guide to doing so without using a prescription.

2: Testosterone is difficult to source.

Provided you have a doctor willing to give you a prescription, and either insurance or financial means of covering the cost of said prescription, testosterone is only difficult to source if you are living in a state that heavily restricts the ability to source Schedule III drugs (or has introduced laws restricting the ability to dispense HRT to transgender patients) or if there is some sort of shortage happening.

Testosterone is available at every national pharmacy chain in various forms, and can also be ordered online by pharmacies that may legally serve your state provided they operate within the state's laws. Remember, cis men take testosterone in various forms for their own hormonal function at times, so this is far from a niche transgender-only drug.

Your state may have restrictions on exactly how much testosterone you may pick up from the pharmacy at any given time, how frequently you're allowed to get it, and occasionally how much you're allowed to have in general. This may also change depending if you are picking your testosterone up from a physical brick-and-mortar pharmacy, or if you are ordering online for home delivery.

Some pharmacies will try to tell you they legally can't dispense more- this may conflict with what your doctor tells you, so if your doctor is willing to give you the maximum your state allows you to have and your pharmacy says a different maximum, you need to get your doctor to advocate for you.

Certain forms of testosterone are more prone to shortages and backorders than others. Gel appears to be commonly backordered, and manufacturer shortages are not uncommon. For this reason, my doctor prescribes me a three month supply at a time. For a long time, CVS would argue with me that they legally could only fill one month at a time. I mentioned this to my doctor, because this inevitably means that with the pharmacists at CVS screwing around with my meds that I am not consistent on my dosing month-to-month because when a shortage happens I simply have to go without until they finally get another shipment in.

Now, thankfully, she wrote me a prescription to navigate around that with the three month supply, but she also had someone from her office call and give them a dressing down on why they needed to actually comply with her orders for her patient. I happen to live in a state that the maximum is truly a three month supply, so CVS should not be arbitrarily shortening a doctor's prescription just because they don't think they should be dispensing that many.

Similarly, testosterone is unfortunately not cheap. I happen to take the gel version, which retails at about $400 USD per bottle, and each bottle lasts one month, so that's about $1600 USD worth of medication sitting on my bathroom sink in that photo with four bottles. Now, thankfully, I have insurance, and the insurance I have allows me to pick up all of my medications for free provided the insurance is actually willing to cover it. This means that I spent a grand total of $0 USD on these bottles. Insurance costs vary greatly, so it's wise to see exactly how much a larger supply will cost you prior to actually committing. My current insurance does not allow me to order medications online, but my previous insurance that I did actually have to pay for medications was often cheaper to order online ($40 for a three month supply) than pick up at the CVS ($20 for a one month supply). This is something to consider depending on your individual coverage.

3: You can only have so much testosterone at once.

As for why I have four bottles- due to my job change, I had an insurance change as well as introduced my state's version of Medicaid as a secondary insurance. My initial insurance did not cover these bottles but did cover individual gel packets dispensed as a sealed box of 30. My current insurance does not cover the individual packets but does cover the bottles. The packets are a slightly different dosage than the pump on the bottle, and when making that switch my doctor accidentally under-dosed me, which then created a significant excess when I went to pick up the next month's bottle. As a result, that initial bottle lasted roughly two months before we caught the under-dosing via my bloodwork, which means I opened the second bottle right as I was getting ready to pick up the third (and fourth and fifth).

This is not an illegal situation as there is a clear paper trail within my medical record and prescription history detailing this situation playing out, but it can be dangerous in certain states to have this much over the amount you're supposed to have. It can be illegal to stockpile a Schedule III drug, so I do not recommend intentionally creating this sort of situation for yourself.

That being said, this sort of worked in my favor. Schedule III drugs often need a prior authorization from your insurance before they are willing to cover these medications. Drugs that are not necessarily expected within your demographic, such as being marked as female but taking testosterone, also often require a prior auth. A prior auth can take up to a month to go through insurance, though usually is less than a week. I just passed my testosterone anniversary in late September, which also means my prior auth expired, as they're only good for one year. Instead of, you know, telling me my prior auth expired, CVS just sent me a text stating they were having a problem with my order and that they were in contact with my doctor about it. A week went by with no change so I called my doctor, who reported they never received anything from CVS but would look into the issue and see what the problem was. They called me back the next day to tell me about my expired prior auth and that they fixed it. I then got the text from CVS saying my prescription was ready to pick up about 5 minutes later. That does mean that if I did not have this excess, I would have once again simply not had testosterone for about a week.

4: Public vs Private Insurance

Whether or not your state's insurance will cover testosterone depends entirely on your state. Obama, when creating the Affordable Care Act or now known as "Obamacare", did make it so that states are supposed to be required to cover HRT for transgender adults and even minors in certain situations. Trump did away with several of these protections, which then emboldened certain states to whittle away at what was left. Other states, like my own, strengthened their protections in response, making it easier to access HRT.

This means that while my own state allows me to get free testosterone through the state's insurance (which is income-based eligibility, and I'm making a significant amount over minimum wage but still considered below my state's poverty line) - a friend of mine in another state cannot access HRT using his state's Medicaid, and is required to use private insurance. Additionally, I have insurance through my job, but it does not cover a large enough percentage for it to be feasible. This means that legally, I have to pay for my workplace insurance (barf, that's $200 out of every paycheck) but on the flip side because of my income eligibility I also can still have the state insurance as my co-insurance and that will clean up whatever leftover costs my private insurance leaves me with.

It also means my top surgery will be free, provided I can get it approved through my private insurance. My public insurance will pay the remaining balance of whatever my private insurance is willing to cover, but will not pay for things my private insurance isn't willing to cover at all.

This also means I have to attend exclusively doctors that will take my public insurance if I want to do things this way- however that's a fairly robust list in my state compared to others, so I didn't have to change doctors at all.

This situation is not always the case for every state's Medicaid- but it is worth looking into if you need options and your current insurance sucks or if you're not insured at all.

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gor3sigil · 3 months ago

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I’m Trans and Insane and I’m doing fine.

[TW Psychosis, transphobia, psychophobia, medication, psych ward]

“Are you sure ?” she asked.

I remember looking back at her in disbelief, because that was certainly a question I never asked her when she came out.

“Why do you ask ?” I say.

“Dude, I’ve seen you go into depersonalization so hard you even thought you were a human soul in a robot vessel and now, you want me to trust you when you say that you, too, are trans ?”

That’s the memory that comes back to me as I fold and put in my bag my psychiatrist’s note attesting that I suffer from gender dysphoria, NOT LINKED to any psychotic symptoms. Here it goes in my folder with my prescription note, an increase - again - of my anti depressants and Xan, and my endocrinologist’s HRT prescription, increased too - finally.

I go to two separate pharmacies to pick up each prescription for two reasons:

There is only one in this godforsaken town that always had testosterone in stock.

I can’t explain to you with words the look you can get when you give back to back, to someone who, despite not being a doctor, works in healthcare, a note for trans HRT and then a note for psychiatric meds.

And I’m lucky, because I’m not taking antipsychotics anymore. Contrarily to what you could think, it doesn’t magically makes the voices and the shadowy people disappear, but it can make a mess of your head pretty bad and my doctor and I both agreed that I didn’t need more damage up here than what I already had. And no, it doesn’t make your delusions vanish magically too: in fact, I was still pretty certain that I was talking to my soul family out here in Argentine telepathically about my mission on Earth, the meds just made it more difficult to understand their voices, but the belief was still solid.

Anyways, I’m back home with the Hoy Grail I fought tooth and nails to get: a letter from the Sacred Council of Mental Sanity also known as Psychiatry that I was, indeed, a bit delulu, but also trans, and that both things didn’t play into each other. My transness wasn’t a delusion, my delusions didn’t have anything to do with being trans.

Or did it ?

Chicken or egg, you know the drill. Did I have my selves fractured before and one of the piece that shattered my brain happened to make me trans or was I just trans with a shitload of traumas in the back that made me insane ?

But don’t worry, at least, trans people when we’re together, we have each other’s back ! Right ?

“Transidentity ISN’T a mental illness !! We don’t DESERVE to be FORCIBLY LOCKED UP and MEDICATED and MADE TO CONFORM FOR OTHER’S SENSE OF SECURITY !!”

Neither do I, RIGHT ?

Or do I ?

Remember what she said, my girlfriend, right at the beginning ?

How I can’t be trusted about myself when sometimes I don’t even have a sense of self anymore or I have too much selves who fight against each other ?

And what do we say to that ?

Get treatment. Get in-patient. Take medication. And for the love of God, shut the fuck up about it, you’re giving us a bad name.

Because being trans and crazy can’t exist. It’s absurd. You have to fix one of these two things. Choose which jacket I’ll wear, and they call it a straitjacket for a reason it seems, so am I queer or am I insane ?

All I know today is there isn’t a universe in which I’m a trans without any mental illnesses, or mentally ill without being trans. And yet, I can’t tell you how many time I got asked “do you think you’d be trans if you never got through [x trauma] ?”. I. Don’t. Know. I’ll never know. And I deserve just as much agency as you get despite being mentally ill. If you don’t believe in that, don’t come yapping about “liberation for all of us”, but “if one of us is crazy they’ll all think I am too and that can’t happen”.

No LGBTQIAA+ person deserves to be told they need to be put away, to be cured, to be allowed out in the open only if they’re deemed “acceptable” by society’s standards. And no mentally ill people deserve to either.

No trans person should be going through years of counseling to have the access to HRT.

And I shouldn’t have had to threaten my own mother’s life to avoid being locked in an adult psych ward at 14.

If you ever think, for one second, that these two things have nothing to do with one another, you are far removed from history.

To hear queer people say “yeah but some mentally ill people are dangerous !” feels like you don’t even know where you come from.

And if I want to say, that me being trans is linked to me being mentally ill, or at least, that both are connected in a way, all hell breaks fucking loose.

So I’ll explain very carefully.

See, when I was young, my mind got shattered into a thousand of pieces I had to try to glue back on. All these pieces of myself broke further more down the line because I couldn’t catch a fucking break. And now, it happens that the final puzzle does not have the same face it had before. It happens that its shape changed over time, for reasons over the control of all of us who tried to build ourselves back. Now there’s a bigger picture, less pieces, a few other shadows, and me. Built from the shatters. With my own needs and afflictions.

And whoever you are, whatever your agenda might be, I will not let anyone take any agency away from me under the false pretext that I can’t know anything for myself. They say that about children, they say that about minorities, about physically disabled people, about the people they want OUT. And my trans siblings, you know that.

I came out for the first time 7 years ago, to my then girlfriend, who was the one asking the question that is the first sentence of this text. I came out a second time 3 years ago. Been on HRT, had top surgery, had psychotic breaks, got my meds changed, switch therapist.

Because I am trans and crazy. And yet, all these choices I made, I made myself. It didn’t have to be that hard to get the basic care I needed. It didn’t need to be. But it WAS. And I’m part of the lucky crowd of people who had access to out-patient treatment, who never have been locked up in ward, who managed to stay alive through meds withdrawals without medical assistance when I had no therapist.

Be very careful of when you start to put conditions on the rights you think you deserve. Be very, very careful about your definition of sanity and of how it warps the way you see people. When you start to say “I have access to that, but there’s people like X or Y who shouldn’t BECAUSE”, pause and ask yourself what led you to think this way. More often than not, you’ll find yourself playing the same mind games as the ones you swore to fight against, and when it gives them the upper hand, they won’t hesitate to come for you after that.

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gay-otlc · 1 month ago

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A popular sex ed blog has decided trans men & mascs aren't allowed to use our own words to describe our own oppression, and seems to be deleting replies and asks that say otherwise, so I've decided to take my ramble over to main.

Regarding TMA/TME language, they've brought up a couple of times how "exempt" means "set apart" rather than "never experiences transmisogyny ever," and how words can have multiple definitions (this post). So it's best to hear people out before jumping to bad-faith interpretations of their words.

However, they also say, "misandry is a term for the 'oppression of men based on gender'" (this post) as a reason why "transmisandry" can never be used.

That is one definition of misandry, yes, but as they pointed out, words can have multiple definitions! Regarding the oppression against trans men & mascs, misandry is generally used to mean the literal "hatred of men," and people in these discussions don't believe that misandry is an axis of systemic oppression (which has been stated over and over).

Yes, it has negative connotations, which is why people more often use transandrophobia or anti-transmasculinity instead. (This poll shows more specifically which terms are most preferred.) But that doesn't mean people who use the term transmisandry are MRAs or believe in the MRA concept of misandry.

Transmisandry is not claiming a combination of systemic transphobia and "systemic misandry," but hatred against trans men & mascs for being trans men/masc. Again, many people prefer other terms that leave less room for that misinterpretation, but people who do use the term transmisandry aren't responsible for others repeatedly ignoring their actual explanations of the term.

In general, arguing over the words rather than the concepts is a very common way to silence people who are trying to talk about their oppression. Jews talking about antisemitism get dismissed because "You're not Semitic, you're from Poland." Aromantic and asexual people get dismissed because "Aphobia literally means 'fear of nothing,' that's a stupid term." And trans men & mascs get told "You can't use that word to talk about your oppression, it's problematic." (Time and time again, and every time we pick a new word, that one gets called problematic too; it's almost like the problem was never really the word?) The words get picked apart but people don't listen to what we're actually saying, the ways we're suffering.

In their own words, from this post: "Do you have to like the language? No. Do you have to respect the way and language oppressed people have chosen to speak about their oppression? Yes. Yes, you do."

Trans men & mascs shouldn't be an exception to your respect.

#anti-transmasculinity #transmisandry #the number of times i've heard 'oppressed people have the right to define their own oppression! except transmascs. fuck you guys'#it's insane #I don't even use the term transmisandry myself? but this shit is not okay to say so i'm going to bat for it

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alwaysthefool · 20 days ago

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But She’s Not You (x Zayne)

Technically part 2 to Opposite (linked) but you can read it stand alone too.

Warnings: insecurity

Tags: Angst to comfort, f! Reader (pro trans blog), MC Reader

Synopsis: After you saw him with someone else and misunderstood, Zayne lets you know you’re the only one for him.

Sulking at the waiting room couldn’t get past Yvonne’s sharp eyes. It had been a week since you’d come to the hospital. You didn’t pick up Zayne’s calls after you ‘ended things’, and him, being the gentleman that he was, did not push it. He was probably busy again, and now he had someone else to keep him company. Unfortunately for you, you had a weird and constant chest pain that was getting hard to ignore. You begged the receptionist to get you any other cardiologist than Zayne, which meant you had to wait, because Zayne would never make you wait when it came to your heart.

“What’s wrong?” She took a seat beside you at the metal chairs. “Trouble with the doc?”

You sighed, your head down, grateful she was here. “I saw him with another girl. Laughing, with another girl.”

“Dr. Zayne laughs?” Grayson slumped down on the other side of you. That just made you feel worse. Right, he was usually stoic, but who wouldn’t laugh when someone like her was making a joke?

Yvonne pinched Grayson, as if begging him to read the room.

“Well, he’s doing terribly.” Grayson spoke immediately. “I don’t think he took a break this entire week. Jo almost has to force him to take a break at times.”

Tears filled your eyes immediately and you hated that it wasn’t because you were concerned about him, but rather that he had another girl who’d remind him to take breaks, to eat sweets, to smile every now and then. It was selfish to think like that, but you couldn’t help but wish it was you.

“Dr. Grayson.” Yvonne warned, gesturing to you. “Don’t you have a surgery to get to?”

Grayson took the cue noticing your silent crying, pretending he was paged for something important, running away.

“There’s really nothing going on between them.” Yvonne tried to help you, patting your back. “There’s been new discoveries on Protocore syndrome treatments, and Jo is from the institute that made the discovery.”

You tried to stop the tears. Right, it couldn’t be helped. “It’s just… hard to be with someone like him.” You wiped your face with your sleeve. “Someone who’s always going to be wanted by people who are more than me. I’ll make one mistake, and he can find another girl who’s better than me in every way, and will never make any. I don’t want to spend my life thinking I have to compete.”

“Ms. [Name].” Zayne’s voice spoke from above you, sending your already struggling heart into a frenzy. “Please see me in my room immediately.”

You looked up to see him walk away, into his office, the nurse beside him, apologising to you. “I tried to hide it from him, but he was furious when I didn’t tell him you were here.” She whispered. You told her it was okay, silently following him. He held the door to his office open for you, closing it behind him once the two of you were in.

“You might be mad at me, but did you really have to try and change doctors?”

“I didn’t want to waste your time.”

“Nonsense.” He looked back at you with furious eyes. His hair was a mess, he’d definitely not had enough sleep, and you could see a bit of stubble on his jaw. No matter what happened, Zayne would put effort into his appearance, but you’d never seen him like that before.

You wanted to say something, ask him if he was alright, but you could only take your place on the couch in his office.

“How long have you been experiencing this?” He asked sternly, still standing, looking at your chart.

“A week.”

He shot you an exasperated look. “A week? And you’re only coming here now?”

I didn’t want to face you. You wanted to confess, but you settled with “I thought it’d go away by itself.”

Zayne tried to calm himself down, placing the chart on the table, sitting down on his desk with his head in his hands. You didn’t have control over yourself as your legs walked over to him. Even if he liked someone else, you couldn’t let him go. You couldn’t help but reach for him, your hand lightly resting on his back.

“Zayne?”

“Can I hold you?” His voice was broken, pleading. You let out a soft ‘yes’, and he immediately pulled you into his lip, hugging you tightly.

Was Zayne… crying?

“You’re here.” He whispered, resting his face against your neck, nuzzling into it, tightening his protective hold. Even if you couldn’t hear it well, you felt his wet eyes. He still smelled of coffee and mint. “Please don’t leave me again. I thought I messed up for good. Please give me another chance.”

“I overreacted.” You put your hands in his hair, and he kissed your neck. “I’m so sorry.”

“No.” He pulled away, holding you firmly on his lap with his large hands on your waist. “I didn’t understand how it must’ve looked to you. I’m away all the time, I don’t make time for you, but if it’s not you…” He looked intensely into your eyes. “It’s no one.”

Your heart felt less heavy, the pain easing into relief. You took a deep breath, but it still hurt your chest a little.

“And I’m sorry for what I said.“ He continued.

You teared up again. “Yeah, you should be. You have no idea how I felt.”

“I’ll win you back, if you’re not yet convinced.” He kissed you on your cheek, taking a handkerchief out of his bag to wipe away your tears. “Tell me, what do you want? I’ll give you anything.”

“What I came for. A diagnosis for my heart.” You smiled.

Zayne turned red, clearing his throat, helping you off his lap but not letting go of your hand. “Of course. I need you to come with me to get some tests done.” He used his free hand to look at his notes on the chart.

“And after that, you’re coming home with me so I can make it all up to you.”

—x—

#zayne x reader #zayne x mc #love and deepspace #lads zayne #lnds #l&ds #zayne comfort #zayne angst #love and deepspace x reader #zayne fanfic #zayne headcanons #hcs #fanfiction #zayne x you

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papasmoke · 2 months ago

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i don't like the democrat's stance on Israel and Palestine, but when the other side is literally threatening to make death camps for trans people and POC, you have to pick your fucking battles.

You couldn't even take yourself seriously while typing this, you're talking in fucking euphamisms about the actual extermination camp Israel's turned Gaza into while being explicit about future GOP violence against Americans. When you sent this to me last night Israel was conducting one of the worst bombing campaigns of the past year on northern Gaza which it is explicitly attempting to depopulate with US munitions. "Pick your fucking battles" do you hear yourself?

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empty-vessel-of-a-person · 2 months ago

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Delulu Mode: Jealous Zayne

Note: Not a Full Fic. Just a Delulu Story in my Brain. I wish I can write a full Story but I can't. Believe me I try.

To say you were hurt is an understatement. it was date night and you are very static that for once, Zayne was able to get off work early. But nothing prepared you to the colder than usual demeanor he has and an almost dismissive attitude.

You are very confused, when you pick him up from the hospital, he even kissed you in the forehead. Something the he's done for the first time.

His colleagues has seen you two stand so close to each other and the furthest they seen you two is greeting each other by holding hands. So the forehead kiss is something new to you but you are still equally happy.

So what happened in between the fifteen minute ride to the restaurant is still a mystery to you.

You are in the verge of crying when he refuse to talk much as you two eat.

Steeling your emotions, you keep everything in check because whatever is upsetting Zayne, he clearly do not want to share with you at the moment.

You two plan on walking on the nearby park after dinner. This is one of Zayne's way to getting you both a simple work out after eating your hearts out. But tonight, you feel awkward to do it so you ask Zayne take you home instead, which to no surprise, he didn't argue.

The ride was awkward and almost suffocating that you were not able to fight the silent tears that started to fall from your eyes. You did not move to wipe the tears as the moment may cause Zayne to notice so you just look out the window.

When you finally see your apartment, you thank Zayne for the dinner and ride home and quickly exited the car.

This seem to knock Zayne out from trans and he run after you. When he finally catch up and turn you to him, he was so shocked that your face is so red with tears. He immediately picks you up and take you back to his car.

You didn't fight him. Instead you held his shoulders tightly until he is able to secure you in car.

Driving fast but carefully , you notice that you are going to the direction of his house. When you are finally arrived, he excited the car without a word and unfasten your seatbelt an carry you again like earlier. When you try to protest, he just hold you tightly but gently and take you straight to his room.

He set you sitting at the edge of the bed and and him kneeling in front of you and his head on your knees as he whispers I'm sorry.

You didn't say anything for a while but you intertwined your hands with him while your other hand was gently stroking his hair. You then realize that his shoulders was shaking. he's crying.

That's when you coax him to talk and found out that he was jealous of the way you easily laugh with Greyson. he reason that with Greyson you always look like you are having fun. While you are just giving him smile and small giggle. he wants you to laugh heartily with him too but he is knows he is not jolly and funny like Greyson and for that he was extremely jealous.

He was so insecure that he kissed your forehead in front of his colleagues to ensure that they know you are his. And after that he proceeded to ignore you and for that he is so ashamed on how he acted.

You feel his arms encircle your legs he then murmurs. Please don't leave me.

It breaks your heart that he thinks that you will leave him for any other man so you hold his face in both your hands. When he finally look at you, you tell him that his presence alone make you happier that any laughing moments with her friends. Having fun and laugh with them does not comes close to how you feel when he showers you affection and you only and exclusively just long for him.

When you ask him to kiss you he was hesitant stating that he doesn't deserve to kiss you because how he acted. You acted angry and tell him that he is allowed to do whatever he wants with you. He was still hesitant that is why you hold the back of his neck and bring your lips down to his and he accept you dominating him.

When the kiss ended you whisper in his ears that you wanted more he then reply "Well then. My Love, what exactly do you allow me to do?"

#love and deepspace #zayne #zayne love and deepspace #zayne lads #lnds zayne #zayne l&ds #dr zayne #lads zayne x reader #zayne x y/n #zayne x you #zayne x mc #zayne x reader #zayne x oc

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asthronauta · 16 days ago

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BEST FRIENDS FUCK EACH OTHER│Barty Crouch Jr × Male Reader [NSFW].

Summary: [Y/N] always wanted to fuck his best friend. And Barty wouldn't shut up. He had to do something about it.

Warnings: Sex with no plot, basically. Ftm (trans) male reader, use of words like pussy, clit, pussy lips and basically shameless talking about it. Unprotected sex, Blow job, Fingering, Pussy eating, Cum in mouth, Cum in pussy, Dirty talk, Begging to be filled, Use of the words good boy & bitch, Public kind of thing? Enjoy 😋

Also, [N/N] means nickname. It can be the shorter version of your name or wtv you want.

Btw, english is not my first language so there may be some errors in my writing. I'm still learning!

Barty was so fucking annoying.

Look, Hogwarts was beautiful and magical and huge but the exams were actually terrifying. You did not want to fail an exam. That's why [Y/N] found the most sought-after corner of the library to study. Which was, in fact, the place he always used to pick. A hidden table in the back plus the late hours of the night that occurred were the perfect combination to study without interruptions. Or, that's how it was supposed to be. But Barty fucking Crouch chased him. Which was actually shit because now his secret place wasn't secret anymore and now he'll have to find a new place where he could find some peace and some quiet.

Bartemius Crouch Junior. The most annoying person [Y/N] ever met and also his best friend. Yeah, that's how things worked. In first year Barty used to chase him everywhere and [Y/N] used to hide from him. Well, some things never change. — It was probably three in the morning and [Y/N] was actually worried about his exam, but Barty just wouldn't shut his mouth. It was nothing new but [Y/N] really needed for him to shut the fuck up.

Barty Junior created his own fame. - He knew perfectly well the image people had of him and he revelled in it. He knew the effect he had on people and it inflated his ego in a way he adored. No one escaped it; not even the teachers. Not even [Y/N]. — At first they were children; of course they had no feelings for each other, but as the years went by, the sexual tension grew. Because Barty fucking Crouch was just too hot and the worst thing was that he knew it perfectly well. It was fucking annoying. So [Y/N] really meant it when he blurted-

“If I suck your cock you'll shut the fuck up?”

It was the kind of proposal that if you didn't accept; it was just a joke, but if you did accept..

Barty was sitting in front of him and [Y/N] saw the look on his face when his brain registered what he said. There was a second of silence where Barty looked at him with genuine surprise. Searching in [Y/N] for a trace of it being a lie and when he didn't find it a smirk began to grow on his stupid face. And that was when [Y/N] realized everything went to hell because he was fucking serious and Barty too.

“Is that a bribe?”

The words slipped from his mouth with an air of amusement. [Y/N] had no idea why every word that came out of Barty's mouth made him utterly mad. I mean, they were supposed to be best friends. But every sound Barty made was a reason why [Y/N] wanted to sew his lips together, and that's been happening more often lately. Maybe because Barty was hooking up with more and more people and [Y/N] couldn't stand to have him around anymore. And maybe a 'please shut up' would have worked just right but [Y/N] already walked into the lion's den and oh, Barty wasn't going to let him go.

“Take it as you wish” There was no way [Y/N] was turning back now. Barty would tease him for life if he did. - He was already at the dance; now he had to dance.

Barty looked at him. Smirking. Smirking at [Y/N]'s face cause he knew he already won. “Do it, and I'll stay quiet.”

Yeah, fuck.

•

[Y/N] wasn't an angel; but he never thought he'd fuck his best friend. I mean, not that it would ever really happen. Because fuck he'd fantasized about that thousand of times. - He was always curious. Can you blame him? He was surrounded by hot people. Anyone in his place would speculate about how his classmates' dicks were like. And Barty dripped with sexual energy. And [Y/N] was just a boy.

Barty was no longer sitting but standing, leaning on the table, looking down at [Y/N] who was kneeling on the library floor. Fuck, what the hell was he doing? he was on his knees about to suck his best friend's cock and he was getting so wet already. And Barty still had all his clothes on. He was literally salivating as he undid Barty's belt - he didn't know he wanted this that much.

Barty didn't say a word. Finally what [Y/N] wanted but fuck he was so nervous he needed Barty to say something stupid. - He had no idea what was going through Bartemius' mind and his own kept going at the speed of light as he undid the zip of Barty's pants, finally catching a glimpse of his underwear. — He was avoiding Barty's eyes but he could tell he was looking at him. At his every move. And he thought he saw a slight, almost invisible blush on the other boy's cheeks.

He was nervous as fuck but Barty didn't have to know that. So when his pants were off [Y/N] was quick to pull down Barty's underwear in one go. And Jesus Christ Barty was big. And hard. So hard it was already standing in front of his face as if his cock was fucking pointing at him. — Fuck, he has a good one [Y/N] bit his lip to prevent that unforgivable phrase from leaving his mouth. - It was thick and looked fucking heavy. His pussy soaked, staining his underwear. He could feel the wetness between his pressed together thighs. As if his body knew that maybe that thing would enter him soon and that made him blush so damn much because fuck he wanted that thing in his pussy-

He took it in his hand, first. He heard the way Barty gasped and how his body tensed and it sent a shiver down his spine. He began to stroke. Up and down. From the tip to the base. His eyes trailing over the tattoo on Barty's hip that ran down to his cock; a snake. Feeling the soft skin on his palm and the veins. Squeezing. Feeling how hard the muscle was. “Yes, just like that” Barty muttered and [Y/N] swallowed the saliva that was gathering in his mouth. He never heard that tone in Barty's voice before and it was doing things to him. — Eventually Barty began to buck his hips against [Y/N]'s hand, fucking that tight, warm grip around his length. [Y/N] was having trouble since he was mesmerized by the scene in front of him so Barty reached down, encircling [Y/N]'s wrist with his hand and keeping his grip still as he fucked it. Barty groaned. [Y/N] could feel the way the muscle tensed and the veins stood out. “Fuck... That's it.. you're good with that little hand of yours” [Y/N] almost groaned at that.

“Barty, fuck” he moaned. Almost pitifully. Because he couldn't believe his best friend was saying those nasty things to him. And he was being a slut for it. There was no words to describe it just fuck. It felt so fucking wrong but also so damn good. — Barty began to move faster. His breathing quickening. As if he wanted to cum. His grip on [Y/N]'s wrist tightened and [Y/N] didn't care to tell him to stop. Because fuck he didn't want him to stop. “Ah, yes, fuck... You're gonna make me cum soon” Barty gasped. [Y/N] sighed. Tempted to rub himself against something because his already soaked pussy was crying out for some attention. He could feel how damn sensitive his clit got.

Barty was close. That thought gave him chills because he could see it. Right in front of him. And it was him who was giving Barty that pleasure. It was him that Barty was so eager for. [Y/N] could see how Barty's swollen, red cocktip bobbed in and out of his fist. Moving tantalizingly closer and then away from his face. He had a close-up of how the tip became wetter and wetter, leaking with precum that eventually ran down to his hand and then to the floor. “Wait” he gasped. Fuck. It must be salty, he thought. He didn't give a fuck. He couldn't let Barty's cum on the floor. It was his; he was causing it. He couldn't let it on the floor. “I want it in my mouth”

“Atta boy” Barty growled and [Y/N] almost came. He leaned down, closing his eyes dreamily before taking the wet tip into his mouth. “Ah, fuck” Barty hissed, feeling every swirl and suck as [Y/N] lapped his precum. One of his hands held tight on the edge of the table while the other found its way to [Y/N]'s hair. Squeezing the strands between his fingers. Getting a proper grip that left the other boy's head immobile; just so Barty could move freely. - He pushed the rest of his cock into that eager mouth. Well-, half. Cause Barty didn't get to sink completely when he felt his cockhead hit the back of [Y/N]'s throat. “Oh yes fuck” Barty gasped, looking down to find [Y/N]'s eyes looking up at him. “Mhm.. this is what you wanted, right?” He hummed as he began to move slowly. Tentatively bumping against the back of [Y/N]'s throat, gradually sinking deeper. “Fuck [N/N], I can't believe I'm fucking your mouth” [Y/N] sighed on Barty's cock at that. The fact that Barty was using his nickname only made him feel guiltier and hornier.

He was trying; relaxing his throat, letting Barty dictate the pace. He didn't want to disappoint him. That morning they were having breakfast with Reg and Evan; as they had been doing for years. Who would have thought that by the end of the day Barty would be fucking his mouth. — [Y/N] closed his eyes; and Barty saw it as a sign to let go. He began to fuck his mouth properly; urging, pushing [Y/N]'s head closer as his hips moved in and out of that wet mouth. “Fuck yes, take it” he hissed, pressing his lips together. Frowning as he felt himself getting closer to cumming in his best friend's mouth. “Fuck [N/N], you're making me fucking close for you, fuck... ” he was trying to keep his voice down; although the library was empty the place echoed and maybe a fucking prefect would come to spoil his little fun here. “Yes.. you like that, don't you? Having me deep into that pretty little mouth of yours,” He looked down, only to chuckle when he saw [Y/N]'s helpless face as he choked on his cock. “Fuck, look at you... I didn't know you were such a slut for my cock, [N/N].”

He began to pound, holding [Y/N]'s head with both hands as he hit the back of his throat over and over. His balls hitting [Y/N]'s chin every time. “Fuck [N/N] I'm cumming inside your mouth-” Barty cried before he came. Moaning as he pressed [Y/N]'s head hard against his pelvis. Squeezing his locks as he began to feel the spurts coming out, hitting the back of [Y/N]'s throat as he filled his mouth up. “Oh yes oh fuck” he cried as he stayed still. Letting every drop out deep into [N/N]'s mouth.

Barty's cock slipped out [Y/N]'s soaked, swollen lips only when he made sure [Y/N] swallowed it all. [N/N] coughed, gasping for air. Drool dripping down his chin. Eyes tearing and the messiest Barty had ever seen him. Barty came in his mouth. Barty came in his mouth and he swallowed it all as the slut he was for his thick cock. He couldn't believe he just did that. He couldn't believe he let things go to hell like that. What the fuck did he just do? There was no turning back after this. His friendship with Barty would never be the same again.

“Fucking hell [N/N]” Barty chuckled. Triumphant smile on his face. As if he didn't give a damn about what just happened. “I didn't know you had such a dirty little mouth there, fuck.. I came so hard for you” he grabbed his spend cock shamelessly. Stroking it lazily as he stared at [Y/N]'s helpless form. Trying to catch his breath. A sticky mess between his legs. Barty's smile grew bigger. “Now what's up, [N/N]? Did the mice eat your tongue? It was me the one supposed to keep quiet”

“Shut up Barty”

“That's my boy” Barty approved as he watched [Y/N] stand back up, Barty quickly wrapping an arm around his lower back and pulling him into a hungry kiss. Saliva, tongue, teeth and the salty taste of Barty's cum in between. Muffled moans from both of them and Barty's thick snake pressing against [Y/N]. “Barty” [Y/N] moaned against his mouth. Not stopping kissing for a second. His arms wrapped helplessly around Barty's neck while his were wrapped around [Y/N] as well. “Ah- Barty-” He gasped his name like a mantra. Unable to believe what that name meant now; the name of the man he was so eager for. The man he needed so bad. No longer the name of his best friend but the name of the person he wanted to be pounded dumb by on the library table. “Barty please-”

“What do you want baby?” Barty muttered against his mouth. Tight grip on the other boy's waist. “Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you”

“Want you-” He gasped. Barty's mouth was too good to let go. “Want you in my pussy Barty please fuck me.”

[Y/N] felt the vibration against his mouth as Barty groaned deeply. As if those words awakened something wild in him. “You want that?” He tested, speaking between kisses. Catching the other's lip between his teeth. “Mhmm, I can do that for you, baby, but you have to promise me something” He pulled away to look at him. Green eyes dark, deep. He cupped [Y/N]'s face; it wasn't tender, it was rather possessive. Firm. Squeezing his cheeks. “Once I get into that tight little pussy of yours, there won't be turning back, baby” he said, shaking his head as he spoke “I won't stop 'til I cum deep inside. Nowhere else, yeah? Just deep inside your pussy. Is that alright? Are you okay with that?”

And how could he refuse such a generous offer?

He nodded. Heart eyes on Barty. “That's a good boy” he said, letting go of him “Now be a sweetheart and bent over on the table for me. I want to pound that slutty pussy from behind” [N/N] did. Because at this point he would do anything for Barty. — Barty pushed his pants down carelessly. Baring [Y/N]'s ass and needy pussy to the air. “Oh, look at that” Barty mockered, [Y/N]'s face turned red in embarrassment. “You're leaking wet for me [N/N]” Barty's hand shamelessly wandered down there and tested the slit, his fingertips gliding easily over the lubricated area. [Y/N]'s whole body trembled. Letting out a shaky, needy gasp. Barty didn't stop. Tracing up and down until suddenly pushing one finger inside. “Holly shit” Barty cursed over [Y/N]'s moan because he took that finger way too fucking good. Sliding in easily like a wet, slick little mouth - his cock spasmed with interest. “Fucking shit [N/N] you took that finger so fucking good baby” he praised, feeling how [N/N] throbbed and squeezed around his finger “You're a wet little bitch, aren't you?” he purred. Biting his lip as he moved his finger in and out, watching as [Y/N]'s wetness soaked his ring. Getting out of him those tiny little moans he liked. He slipped out; sucking his finger clean. “Mhm, that cherry tastes good” he hummed. So damn naughty. [Y/N]'s face was bright red and he couldn't do anything but let Barty use his body. “Need to have a taste of that before going in, don't you think?”

[Y/N] could hear the smirk on Barty's face; he didn't need to see him. He was about to turn to look as him but he didn't manage to when he felt Barty's face buried deep in his ass. Tongue lapping at his pussy juices. He moaned, a moan that echoed in the empty library and stirred the candlelight. His head abruptly turning forward again. Staring into nothingness as he felt Barty devour him. “Barty-!” his gasp died in a shaky cry, feeling how Barty fucking Crouch caught his pussy lips between his lips. Sucking them. Gently biting them— He was in heaven, with the stars and the moon. Barty was eating him like he meant it. Tongue moving everywhere. Lapping at his sloppy hole, guitar-playing with his clit. He could fucking feel the metal of Barty's tongue piercing on his pussy and he was about to-

Barty pulled away. [Y/N] almost cried at that. He was about to protest when he suddenly felt Barty's thick, wet tip resting against his hole. “Barty-” he gasped. Okay, this was really happening. “I'm going to fuck you” Barty groaned. A warning; not a question. [Y/N] sighed almost in fear. Barty was there; just one move away from penetrating him and fucking him bareback. Of crossing a line from which they could not return. — Barty was holding his heavy cock aligned with [Y/N]'s helpless pussy hole. Stroking it. His other hand teasing his balls lightly. He was fully hard again already. Leaking. [Y/N] could feel the swollen tip pressing just a tiny bit in. He fucking mewled. Barty's leaking cockhead was splitting his tender lips apart. He needed him inside.

“Barty- Barty please, you're killing–”

The words choked in his throat as Barty plunged his cock all the way in.

“Fucking take it” [Y/N] let out a pitiful moan. Almost a whimper. As Barty took a hold of his hips. Starting to roll his almost desperately from the start. “Oh you fucking tight bitch you're squeezing me like crazy” Barty groaned, pounding. His balls slapping against [Y/N]'s untouched clit. [Y/N] was speechless. Not even moaning at first as he felt the slight burn and huge presence of Barty in his pussy. His legs were weak - it was thick. So thick. He could feel it stretching him so much he couldn't help but clench around it. Barty was being so damn rough; no mercy for his tender pussy that was taking him so deep. “Yes-” [Y/N]'s little moan went unnoticed under the thuds that echoed through the place.

“You're not letting me go, are you? Fuck, you're slick as hell baby-” Barty moaned. Biting his lip as he threw his head back. Closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling of fucking that small, slippery pussy for a second. Barty knew he was big but [Y/N] was fucking tight. Squeezing his cock like he wanted to fucking suffocate him. A tiny, slippery tunnel that Barty was ravaging. “Fuck, look at us” he said, looking back down to see how [N/N]'s pussy hole was stretched open around his thick cock. Swallowing it all like the good boy he was. Letting Barty go balls deep with every plunge. “You're taking me so good baby fuck you were made for me [N/N]” He licked his lips, saliva leaking from his mouth. His eyes locked on their union. On the way his cock moved in and out of that welcoming cunt. “Fuck, I can't believe I'm fucking your pussy” he shivered, thrusts getting messier. “Fuck [N/N] I'm fucking fucking you.- fuck” Barty leaned down. Pressing his chest on [Y/N]'s back as he pounded deeper. One hand palm open on the table and the other holding tightly to [Y/N]'s hip. Keeping him in place. - His lips searched for [Y/N]'s lips with closed eyes and found them. Tongues dancing as Barty didn't stop his rhythm.

“So good” Barty gasped “Fuck, so good. Your pussys so good” he hummed against [Y/N]'s ear, pounding impossibly deep and hard. Getting little 'ah, ah, ah's out of [Y/N] with every thrust. “Barty-” “[N/N]” Barty moaned back as he pounded against [Y/N]'s arched back. Holding him impossibly close. “Beg for me baby, beg for my cock” he moaned helplessly, leaning down to nip and suck at [Y/N]'s neck as he relentlessly pounded into him.

“Barty please” He blurted messily. Feeling like his clit rubbed against the edge of the table. Swollen and unattended. But he wasn't going to touch it. His clit was burning with need but he wanted to cum just from Barty's cock alone. And he was close already. He could feel it. And he could also feel Barty's cock throbbing and leaking inside. He was going to come. “Please- Inside. Not pulling out, fuck, Barty. Please fill me up-”

Barty let out a low, dark chuckle from the back of his throat against the skin of [Y/N]'s neck. Pulling away. Standing again as he looked down at him. “You want every last bit of me inside that cute little hungry pussy of yours, don't you?” he asked with a low, dangerous tone. Hands gripping [Y/N]'s waist almost painfully as he began to hammer again. “You'll have it.. mhmm fuck yes I'm cumming inside you”

“Oh god fucking thank you,” [Y/N] cried. Legs shaking as he was so damn close.

“Oh yes that's a good boy, you like having your best friend's cock pounding your pussy don't you? Fuck I'm coming-” Barty gasped. He was a mess. He could feel his swollen tip hitting the bottom of [Y/N]'s insides and it was just too much. He squeezed [Y/N] tight as he began to pound fucking deep. The table shaking. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, baby, baby I'm coming- oh, oh fuck, fuck fuck fuck-” Barty moaned pitifully before burying himself all the way in. As deep as he could go. His body pressed against [Y/N]'s. “Inside-” he managed to cry as he began to unload. Thick, heavy spurts of creamy babies began to shoot out with each spasm of his cock, deep inside that pussy. “Oh shit” he whimpered as if he was in pain; body tense and stiff as his thick load was planted. Letting out a muffled moan the moment he felt [Y/N] cumming just as his cum began to fill him. Milking him.

The moment Barty finished unloading his body fell exhausted on top of [Y/N]. Breathing hard against the skin of his back. Where he planted a kiss when he finally caught his breath. “...Fuck”

“Fuck indeed” [Y/N] sighed. Finally regaining his voice after a while. Both their chests rose and fell, having exhausted all their stamina. Especially Barty who could feel himself getting flaccid inside [Y/N]'s slippery hole.

“I came... so fucking hard” Barty mumbled. Hands still on [Y/N]'s waist. Holding him firmly close. As if he wanted to cuddle. He was a big baby. [Y/N] rolled his eyes.

“Me too” he shifted a little. Feeling all the stuffing that Barty just pumped into him.

“We should do this every day, [N/N]” Barty chuckled a little. Humming after. His cock tender and soft now. Letting the liquid drip down his balls and [Y/N]'s thighs. Cheek still pressed against [Y/N]'s back. “...I think I may love you”

“Fuck... shut up, Barty.” Barty pouted.

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mostlysignssomeportents · 8 months ago

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Working class Dems who campaign on economics beat Trumpists in elections

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me FRIDAY NIGHT (Mar 22) in TORONTO, then SUNDAY (Mar 24) with LAURA POITRAS in NYC, then Anaheim, and more!

The Democratic Party Pizzaburger Theory of Electioneering is: half the electorate wants a pizza, the other half wants a burger, so we'll give them all a pizzaburger and make them all equally dissatisfied, thus winning the election:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/16/that-boy-aint-right/#dinos-rinos-and-dunnos

But no one wants a pizzaburger. The Biden administration's approach of letting the Warren/Sanders wing pick the antitrust enforcers while keeping judicial appointments in the Manchin-Synematic universe is a catastrophe in which progressive Dem regulators (who serve one term) are thwarted by corporatist Dem judges (who serve for life):

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/14/making-good-trouble/#the-peoples-champion

The Democrats – like all parties in two-party systems – are a coalition; in this case, a "progressive" liberal-left coalition with liberals serving as senior partners, steering the party and setting its policies. These corporate dems like to color themselves as "neutral" technocrats with "realistic, apolitical" policies that represent what's best for the country:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/05/not-that-naomi/#if-the-naomi-be-klein-youre-doing-just-fine

This sets up the left wing of the party as the starry-eyed, unrealistic radicals whose policies are unpopular and will lose elections. But for a decade, grassroots-funded primary challenges have made it possible to test this theory, by putting leftist politicians on the ballot in front of voters, especially in tight races with far-right Republicans (that is, exactly the kinds of races that the corporate wing of the party says we can't afford to take chances on).

The 2022 midterms included enough races to start testing these theories – and, unlike traditional midterms, these races enjoyed high voter turnout, thanks to the unpopularity of GOP positions like abortion bans, book bans and anti-trans laws. Jacobin teamed up with the Center for Working-Class Politics, Yougov and the Center for Work and Democracy at ASU and analyzed those races:

https://images.jacobinmag.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/03/11134429/CWCP-Report-2024.pdf

Their conclusion: candidates from working-class backgrounds who campaigned on economic policies like high-quality jobs, higher minimum wages, a jobs guarantee, ending offshoring and outsourcing, building infrastructure and bringing manufacturing back to the US won with a 50% share of the vote in rural and working-class districts. Dems who didn't lost with a 35% share of the vote:

https://prospect.org/politics/2024-03-18-how-actually-existing-democrats-run-for-office/

In other words, in the kinds of districts where Trumpist politicians are beating Democrats, running on "left populist" policies beats Trumpist politicians.

That's the good news: if Dems recruit leftist, working class politicians and put them up for office on policies that address the material reality of voters' lives, they can beat fascist GOP candidates.

Now for the bad news: the Democratic establishment has no interest in getting these candidates onto the ballot. Working-class candidates, by definition, lack the networks of deep-pocketed cronies who can fund their primary campaigns. Only 2.3% of Dem candidates come from blue-collar backgrounds (if you include "pink-collar" professions like nursing and teaching, the number goes up to 5.9%):

https://jacobin.com/2024/03/left-populists-working-class-voters

All of this confirms the findings of Trump's Kryoptonite, an earlier Jacobin/CWCP research project that polled working-class voters on preferences for hypothetical candidates, finding that working-class candidates with economically progressive policies handily beat out Republicans, including MAGA Republicans:

https://images.jacobinmag.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/06/08125102/TrumpsKryptonite_Final_June2023.pdf

Since the Clinton-Blair years, "progressives" have abandoned economic populism ("It's not a burning ambition for me to make sure that David Beckham earns less money" -T. Blair) and pursued a "third way" that seeks to replace half the world's of supply white, male oligarchs with diverse oligarchs from a variety of backgrounds and genders. We were told that this was done in the name of winning elections with "modern" policies that replaced old-fashioned ideas about decent pay, decent jobs, and worker power.

These policies have delivered a genocide-riven world on the brink of several kinds of existential catastrophe. They're a failure. The pizzaburger party didn't deliver safety, nor prosperity – and it also can't deliver elections.

Name your price for 18 of my DRM-free ebooks and support the Electronic Frontier Foundation with the Humble Cory Doctorow Bundle.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/20/actual-material-conditions/#bread-and-butter

#pluralistic #elections #political science #democrats #democrats in disarray #class #class war #us politics #pizzaburger

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lookforsomeoneelse · 3 months ago

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i don’t want to set the world on fire… (prologue)

been reading through old imposter au sagaus, and found inspo to get off my butt and start typing…

anyway tw for your standard imposter au stuff like persecution, violence, and cussing

also you might be a trans allegory? idk what that means but i think i can infer

Imagine waking up in a body that is not your own.

It freaks you out; the first couple of days after the sudden shift, but you gather enough information to piece together the puzzle of where you are.

You’re in Genshin Impact, a game you just played to kill time.

Things are different here, you soon find out, as evident of the statues strewn about your new residence.

Your “family” and “friends” worry about you for a while, as you get set in your new life.

It’s disorienting, but after a while you eventually manage to find stable ground to stand on for your new life.

The tides of life remain calm for what seems like a moment after that, before everything you thought you knew about this world comes crumbling down.

Rumors of an imposter who takes up “Their Grace’s” face begin to pop up.

It scares you, the way that everybody takes up arms and begins a manhunt for this person who, to you, hadn’t done anything at all.

As one of your neighbors shoves a pitchfork into your hands, you quickly stammer out an excuse about thieves coming and robbing houses if they all go, and you also offer to stand and look out for whoever the hell they’re trying to kill.

They buy it.

Only six hours have passed since that interaction, and you hear the shuffling of… something.

Opening the door to your humble abode, you find a person covered in blood and rags, bones broken and cuts all over their damaged body.

Your gazes interlock, and their eyes widen at the sight of you. One step, two steps, three steps back. They turn and begin to run, before their legs give in to their fatigue and they trip.

You approach them as one would a wounded animal, which is probably what they’ve been treated like. You’ve already put two and two together.

This is the so-called “imposter” that everyone’s looking for.

They let out a couple of whimpers, and they’re hyperventilating. They shuffle away from you on all fours.

When your shadow inevitably casts over their crawling figure, they turn and begin to earnestly plead. You can only feel pity in your heart as they do so.

“PLEASE,” They cry out, “DON’T-DON’T COME ANY CLOSER!” Their eyes begin to water. They look so scared, you think to yourself.

“please. just leave me alone…” They cover themselves up with their arms, hoping to alleviate at least some of the pain that comes their way.

When they realize that the pain doesn’t come, they come out of their shell slowly to face you.

In a random act of kindness, you decide to take them in, despite everyone else’s differing opinion on what you should do with or to them.

“Don’t worry,” you assure them, “I’m not going to hurt you.” You extend a hand out. “Can you stand?”

Wiping off tears of joy in their eyes, they take your hand and use your grip to pull themselves up. However, once they let go, they stumble to the ground, forcing you to pick them up and help to carry them.

“I don’t think we have time for names. But, I’ll try to at least feed you and give you some spare clothes.”

“O-ok….”

Once you make it to your residence, you sit them down and bring over a bowl of freshly heated potato soup. They devour it with fierce voracity, evident of how they’ve been mistreated. You also look around for anything that looks like it’ll fit and give it to them.

It’s a perfect match.

For the next about two months, life was pretty easygoing for the two of you. You hide them in a supply closet in your home when anyone would show up at the front door.

But they decide that it’s time for them to go. With a smile and a wave, you send them off on their journey, making sure that they have all their necessities on them.

Shortly after, another rumor- completely different from the one before it- spreads like a great wildfire.

The “imposter,” the one you had taken in and cared for, was actually the true creator all this time.

They’ve made a big speech about how they would destroy all of Teyvat for its sins against its creator, but they declare that they will not do this thanks to the sympathy and kindness of a certain individual.

That “certain individual?”

that’s you.

___________________________

WOOO IM BACK BABBBBYYYYY

anyway if yall wanna use this idea go ahead

I don’t get paid for this and you probably don’t either so go crazy with it

#genshin sagau #sagau #genshin impact sagau #sagau x reader #sagau cult au #genshin x reader #genshin impact #self aware au #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin imagines #orginal work #NEW TAGS HOORAY!!!!!#sagau imposter au

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femmetransman · 2 months ago

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Shana Tova! Here are picks of my Rosh Hashana outfit and matching nails.

Vid of my nails has no sound.

Shirt and skirt with pockets from @nerdykeppie.

Also, huge shoutout to Kinetic Color Foundry for these fidget rings that are saving me these High Holy Days. These are made by one neurodivergent person with a 3D printer who could use a lot more love.

I ordered this Star of David design years ago through the custom form if anyone is interested (she also has an etsy but it's better to order through her site if you can):

Close-up pics of nails and more details under cut.

I normally buy a new dress for Rosh Hashana but wasn't able to this year. Day-of I realized that I hadn't worn this outfit yet so I was able to say Shecheheyanu over some amazing clothes designed by a queer Jew.

This outfit also helped inspire these fun Trans Octopus Rosh Hashana nails. I only had one octopus design which I repeated, and I used a koi fish to emulate the eel and create some texture. Super happy with how they turned out. I may do it again in the future if I get a stamping plate with more sea animal designs.

Here they are on a backdrop of the NK skirt.

And here they are on my little design board. I like taking pics on here because it's easy to arrange in a way that the words are readable. :)

Base polish is One Coat Black from Holo Taco. Octopus design and stamping polishes from Maniology, koi fish from random Amazon set, Hebrew stamping plate was from Etsy and was the only one so no link to share unfortunately.

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bxyp · 11 months ago

Note

Could you maybe do something with a ftm reader who has a lot of scars and tattoos especially on his back and like Ghost sees him shirtless for the first time? Without Ghost knowing your trans? And it just being fluff and a little bit of angst?

If you don't feel comfortable doing this its okay!!

Sincerely: a very cool person

His priority is your well-being, not some scars you have.

Summary: You have been shot, and Ghost, as your comrade, helps you treat the wound. What could go wrong?

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x FTM Reader

warnings: SWF content, "Ghost" '22, transphobia is mentioned, post-surgery scars are described, military, soldier! reader, blood, wounds were mentioned, reader gets shot.

word count: 592

Being transgender in the military wasn't easy. Sneaking into the shower right after everyone had left to just take a shower, just without anyone knowing. Just to make sure no one judges or looks weird. It wasn't easy in the army. The service here was even harder…

Being wounded in the line of duty was not unusual, even the best soldier could receive a scratch. And even now you are leaning against some old tree in East Asia. Things never go according to plan, that's part of the job.

Eyes barely open, this job is not for the weak. That's why you clench your teeth while Ghost starts pulling you out of your gear to put bandages on your gunshot wound on shoulder. Of course you wish you could do it by yourself but right now you priority was to not get infection.

"Keep your eyes open, soldier." Ghost’s harsh tone didn’t let you relax even for a second, which was probably for the best. He didn't pay much attention to your tattoos or scars, figuring he could take a closer look at them once he stitched you up.

You feel his gloved hands slowly pour the alcohol onto your shoulder. Sharp pain simply drowned out all your thoughts. Every cell of your body felt like it was on fire. "Fuck! Be gentle, I’m bleeding.” You spat as soon as you unclenched your teeth. Everything hurt so much, your mind could barely focus on one thought.

"I'm well aware of that." He said that once he found the nearest piece of cloth to cover the bleeding, he would help you get to your feet and get to the nearest evacuation site.

He picked up the radio and said something, but you could barely hear what. Only thing you got was that he said that you had been shot and you both needed to evacuate as soon as possible. He probably said something else, but your head hurt, along with that damn shoulder that felt like it was being cut off, slowly, piece by piece. His skillful hands quickly tightened some fabric on your shoulder. And without giving you time to come to your senses, he picked you up, throwing your good arm over his shoulder. “The evacuation helicopter will be there in a few minutes. Get back on your feet."

You both slowly walked towards the place Ghost lead you to. Only now did you remember that he probably saw your scars… Those top surgery scars that you covered with everything you could. Those scars that you hid. These white lines are right under your pecs. You worked hard to make them hard to see. But neither cream nor some beaty products could remove them. A constant reminder of who you were born…

Anxiety rise in you, your stomach became a tight knot. You're afraid that he saw the scars that you tried to hide. “So, about what you saw…” You were afraid he might tell someone. The military was not the most acceptable place. Here you will have to fight not only on the battlefield, but also earn your place among others.

“I don’t care who you are, lad. My job is to keep you alive, not to pry into your personal life.” His words can be harsh and cold. But you don't see any condemnation here. He considers you his equal. Ghost wasn't the nicest person, but he wasn't an asshole who treated you differently just because you weren't like him.

The rescue helicopter was visible in the distance…

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𝔑𝔬𝔱 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥. ℑ'𝔪 𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔤𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔲𝔰𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢 ℑ'𝔳𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔞𝔴𝔞𝔶 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔞 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔢. ℑ 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔦𝔱 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔰𝔲𝔭𝔭𝔬𝔰𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔢 𝔞 𝔣𝔩𝔲𝔣𝔣 𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔶, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 ℑ 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔨 𝔦𝔱 𝔴𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔣𝔦𝔱 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔊𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔱'𝔰 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯.

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