#and the medic population doubles
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Is this canon? Technically no.
Is it even In character? Absolutely not!
Do I care? Not really!
Locus is my blorbo and i can put him in annoying situations, like having a small squad of annoying but just-good-enough-to-not-kill-them Feds, if i want to
#rvb#red vs blue#rvb locus#my art#batsy art#samuel ‘locus’ ortez#rvb oc: the clovers#necoda ‘neko’ micce#anton pavoz#neko looks tall when he’s next to anton and ivia#but he’s like barely 5’6 so when you stick him next to 6’2 locus#anton: ive seen his chest plate more than his helmet#ivia: you can see his chest plate? (shes 5’ even she cant see shit)#i dont have the spoons to work on my bigger pieces bc i have commissions coming up which yay money#but it means i need to consolidate my art energy for a bit and my brain is like nooo my blorbos#in the words of the fave: unfortunate!#i need to get paid tho#so instead: silly doodle time#little guys#no ivia bc i only had a small corner of my sketchbook left and she didnt fit sorry bestie#in my heart shes off helping dr grey she doesnt really get a lot of spare time to spend w her boys until the armies merge#and the medic population doubles#so do the soldiers but theyre consolidated now at the pirates shoot to kill with much better aim so…ya know#batsy do u ever not ramble in your tags? no this is my stream of thought for future me#and anyone bored enough to actually read my tags#i still have beef with the prefect helmet i hate drawing it i love its look im punting it into the sun
31 notes
·
View notes
Text
I love villains who have a point.
I love bad guys that are only opposing the protaganist because they'd go about their problems in different ways.
I love villains who might actually be the good guys in a situation because in saving worlds, some heroes can just make the situation worse.
#this is about SO MANY BAD GUYS#Okay a list#luke castellan#erik killmonger#dar benn#magneto#count dooku#most Spidey villains#remember in the Tobey Maguire films when the guy just wants to pay his daughter's medical bills#On that note#Mr Freeze#An argument can be made for Thanos#But he really should have just doubled the resources instead of cutting the population in half#gorr#TBH this guy was the only interesting part of Thor: Love & Thunder#They gave us such a good villain and such a bad movie#Has anyone read Godkiller?#Kissen and Gorr are the same is what I'm saying#PJO#percy jackson#black panther#the marvels#x men#star wars#spider man#dcu#marvel comics#mcu#thanos#thor love and thunder
11 notes
·
View notes
Note
Ms. Radiodemon, when are you going to post more music?
⌖ What, on V*xTube? I have an entire QUEUE of content to EDIT that I simply HAVE NOT HAD THE TIME FOR! HAHA!
⌖ On the OFF-CHANCE that you were sent here from the one BARISTA at HELLBUCKS who plays my OLD MUSIC there -- devoted ALLUMINATI MEMBER, HELLO! -- I haven't released any ORIGINAL work in a WHILE! DON'T PLAN ON IT!
#⌖ online#⌖ answers#anonymous#// she is DELIGHTED by people who want to see more of her content!! ALAS i am mobile bound and also she has terrible executive function#and does have a backlog to edit equivalent to my list of WIPs lmao .... also it's true she hasn't released original mixtapes in#like a decade. the population of people who work at hellbucks and the people who want to listen to disonant horror jazz meant to mimic#the feeling of wanting to evacuate your body is like ... not a circle entirely but there is a LOT of overlap. shoutout to the Al Radiodemon#stan base (jazz enthusiasts and the girls + gays). she should release new music. it should be called 'who killed al radiodemon' and the#cover should have her stunt double with a big Y autopsy scar. in a cocktail dress at a party like everything is normal. look I'm really#normal about her. my adhd medication wore off for the day and i cannot engage with media normally HAHA!!!#(yeah she has a stunt double. more like a body double. there's a WIP of her too. one day I will unpack my laptop and finish my ART).
0 notes
Text
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── as the last woman on earth, a government bounty marks you as humanity’s only hope for repopulation. unexpectedly, stumbling into your college football team becomes your lifeline, but instead of turning you in, they want to impregnate you on their own terms.
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── you're now reading . . . 𝐆𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆 + 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊 with isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, barou shoei, kunigami rensuke, chigiri hyoma, nagi seishiro & mikage reo
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── fem!reader, mentions of sexism in medicine, gangbang, breeding, cunninlingus, unprotected s*x, mild degradation, reader gets spanked once, mentions of food, mentions of babies, mentions of pregnancy, reverse harem, reader gets kidnapped, creampies, double penetration, nipple play, mentions of viral outbreaks, home isolation, mentions of human torture and experimentation, apocalypse AU, dark content ahead (10k+ words i am sick in the head)
⇤flip back to the pervtober masterlist
One thing about life you were coming to find out in your short existence, was that it could change in the blink of an eye.
One day, you’re a popular cheerleader everyone loves, on the Dean’s List and speeding through to a life of accolades and financial stability, then the next, a viral outbreak spirals out of control, infecting and offing only women.
It started with rapid coughing and sneezing. Many expert scientists cited a woman's inferior immune system compared to men. They barely paid any attention to the growing casualties in one half of the population, just like how they turned a blind eye to PCOS or the persistent chronic pain most women seemed to experience throughout their lives.
As the voices of one half went unheard, the dire consequences slapped mankind fully in the face.
Birth rates dropped, many nations lost their manpower and society became increasingly violent and hostile.
Those women that were left were transferred to medical facilities under the guise of rehabilitating them. But, there were the rumours of abuse and medical experiments that arose from shady forums and chat groups.
You had read some of them from Jienna’s laptop when she was still alive.
Your best friend and roommate was an advocate for women’s rights, even before the world hadn’t gone to shit, and she was the first one who opened your eyes to the blatant mistreatment women were going through official medical channels. When the virus hit, the both of you huddled in your shared dormitory, trading packets of ramen and stories while waiting for more aid to come.
She always had such a bright smile and determination. The day the virus took her away from you was one you could never forget.
Jienna laid on her bed, a grey pallor overtaking her once radiant skin. The skincare she religiously applied was gathering dust on her dresser, and everytime she exhaled, it sounded coarser and coarser.
Eventually, she closed her eyes and never awoke again, and you had to page the medical team to extract her body, all while tears streamed down your cheeks and you were hovering on the edge of a full meltdown.
Your family across the country couldn’t even come and see you; your brothers were barred from taking you back home, as every woman in the district was given strict orders to remain at home and behind locked doors to keep the virus away.
But, it always managed to slip through the cracks. Whether it was from infected food or contaminated medical equipment.
The virus killed any female it touched.
News reports began surfacing that hens were dying out, impacting the supply of eggs. Cows were dropping dead in fields, the world’s milk supply running dry for the first time in existence. The pregnant black cat you used to feed behind your dorms was found dead behind a dumpster by a group of computer science boys.
Slowly, the world descended into chaos, and more and more women were disappearing.
It was exactly day 40 of your lockdown when you decided you would run away.
Packing every non-perishable canned food you could find into a big bag, you waited until dusk fell and when the nurses would hand you your dinner. You knew it would be one of the older security guys who used to direct parking on your campus, and he had a bad hip so he couldn’t chase you down.
As much as you hated hurting him, the first punch in his face was enough to knock him out cold. You hopped over his body, careening down the hallway and pushing yourself towards the outside of the college campus.
Luck was on your side when you dashed out the front door to find an idle truck. It was from one of the block rangers, and you didn’t hesitate to jump inside of it, revving the engine and stepping down on the gas pedal.
Someone yelled out your name, but you were too fired up to care. In your mind, you decided it would be better to die from the virus than staying cooped up for the rest of your life. At least with dying, you would be free.
You had no plan and no idea what to do next but to race towards the closest abandoned building you could find. Jienna had told you about it during her dying days—how there was a series of abandoned buildings just at the edge of town where defiant women stayed the last of their days there.
Having seen with your own eyes what the virus did to your roommate, you were sure you were prepared to go out the same way. There would be a few days where your immune system fought back, but without the right food and care, you would waste yourself away.
Better than being trapped forever in a small dorm. You viciously gunned the engine and raced towards that shining beacon of hope.
The buildings out of town were abandoned like Jienna said, and you prepared to set up your death camp. The concrete slab walls were drab and the floor was too hard and cold to sleep on, but you made do with a blanket you managed to steal from the lobby.
Days passed and soon, you were starting to wonder if the virus was even real. Your meals consisted of canned beans and whatever scraps you could find in the dumpster nearby. You didn’t dare to light a fire in case it might attract someone’s attention, and your showers were virtually non-existent.
Maybe I shouldn’t have left the dorms.
Those thoughts of ‘what if’ and ‘should haves’ kept you up at night and haunted your waking moments.
One day, you thought you heard footsteps echoing down the hallways, but then, you found out it was just a bunch of squatters looking for a place to sleep. They turned their nose up on the squalor and left you alone feeling bemused and a little disappointed that not even the lowest rank of humanity would want to spend a night at a place you consistently slept in.
But, your newfound freedom was too good to be true.
It had been too quiet and too peaceful. The bubble was waiting to pop and your hopes burst one day when you awoke in cold sweat to hear a man’s voice down the hallways.
“... heard she escaped here…”
“Are you sure?”
The fatigue weighing you down shot out of your system and you sat up ramrod straight, rushing to get your goods without making a sound.
“No news of… gotta be the last one in the vicinity…”
You hurriedly stuffed your blanket into your backpack, taking care not to breathe too loud in case they might hear. The beam of a flashlight pricked your irises, and having lived for a while in the dark, you weren’t used to such brightness.
Squinting, you stayed close to the walls, slinging your bag onto your shoulders and preparing to depart down a flight of steps straight into the forest fringing these buildings. Your flexibility as a cheerleader back in your old life helped you out to creep on the floors quietly, extending one leg and then another while keeping close to the walls.
However, you didn’t see where your foot landed, and before you could stop in mid-step, the empty can of beans went clattering to the ground.
For a split second, all you could hear was your breath and the rush of blood in your ears.
The beam of light immediately swung towards your direction, illuminating your left leg and the implicated empty can in question.
Shit. You had been discovered.
“Wait!” One of the men yelled, but you didn’t stop to listen. Hightailing it out of here, you sprinted to the entrance, about to escape into the night when you felt a bigger body slam into you from the side.
Screaming out, you barely caught a glimpse of your perpetrator, but he was holding you down with his larger body, pinning you right to the dirty ground.
“Got her!” he yelled back to other men. “It’s a girl! She’s here!”
You blindly reached your hand out and felt the sharp edge of a rock cut into your palm. Swinging it towards him, you bashed the side of his head, and in the glimpses of light from the shining moon up ahead, you caught sight of his vivid, dark hair.
The man yelped and stumbled back, staunching the heavy flow of blood oozing from his right cheek.
“Fuck!” he bellowed, and you used his momentum of shock to push him off of you.
But, he had enough dexterity to clamp a hand around your knee, bringing you back down to the ground.
“No!” you started to scream and sob. “Please! Let me go!”
Someone else came to his rescue, holding you down. You felt ropes around your wrists, drawing them behind your back. Your sobs were muffled by a bag thrown over your head, and for good measure, they tied your ankles, too. It took two of them to carry you into a car, and you were laid on someone’s lap, his arms roping around you and pressing you to his chest.
As the men piled back into the car, you started to sob when you heard the engine ignite.
“Ssh, it’s okay,” the man who held you crooned. “It’s gonna be fine, Y/N.”
Through your tears, you recognized that they knew your name.
A hand touched your knee, rubbing it soothingly. “We’re not here to hurt you.”
That voice. You had heard it before. It brought to mind dark blue eyes and a mop of dark hair. A pair of toned legs tearing through a football field and a charming, lopsided smile.
“I-Isagi?”
He hummed. “It’s me, Y/N. Barou’s holding you, by the way.”
In answer, the self-proclaimed king of the field back from when your college days consisted of study horrors and not a world crisis, flooded your mind with stark familiarity when he exhaled out your name.
“Hey, Y/N.”
“It’s the boys from the football team,” Isagi informed you, like you were on a road trip with them instead of forcefully being kidnapped against your own will.
“H-how did you find me?” The bag they stuffed over your head smelled musty, and you struggled to talk through it. “C-can you get this fucking thing off my head?”
Someone pried the sack off, and you inhaled in deep gusts of air, your wide eyes taking in the darkened interior of this truck and the boys who were holding you hostage.
Isagi had lost a bit of weight since you last saw him. The last you heard of the Blue Lock team’s co-captain was that he had lost his mother to the virus and the school had started a fund for him to cover her funeral expenses. Turning your eyes towards the man who was holding you, Barou’s jaw was tight, and his eyes were heavy with dark circles.
The man driving was Kunigami, whose hands were white-knuckled fists on the steering wheel. Next to him in the passenger, bleeding out from his cheek, was Itoshi Rin. You noticed how he side-eyed you from the front, and returned his evasive look with a frosty glare.
Lastly, at the back of this 8-seater was Chigiri, Nagi and Reo—the former two being the most unlikely combination of acquaintances you had ever seen join this ragtag group of football bros. Nagi and Reo were famous for being fused at the hip since they both started their business degree courses together. They rarely fraternised with anyone else outside of their coursemates, much less kidnap some random woman.
At the reminder of your predicament, you squirmed, accidentally rubbing your ass all over Barou’s crotch. He didn’t react beyond a low hiss of, “Quit it,” those thick and sturdy arms tightening around your trembling body. You tried to ignore how you could feel something hard poking your lower back.
“Why did you kidnap me?” you demanded off the bat. “How did you find me? What are you going to do with me?”
Those rapid questions were met with silence. You flitted your gaze to each of them, and through the passing snatches of orange streetlights, you saw every one of their expressions drenched in guilt.
“We… don’t know.”
Isagi was the one who spoke first, preparing himself to earn your rage.
“You don’t know?” you mumbled, growing more incensed every minute with how they had wrenched you from your peaceful life in the ruins. “You don’t know where you’re taking me. What you’re planning to do with me. You don’t know the reason why you went through all that trouble to track me down. You don’t—”
“It’s because you have a bounty on your head.”
Rin’s voice cut through your growing tirade, leaving you cold with disbelief.
“I… what?”
On your right, Isagi nodded, rubbing the back of his neck like he would rather be somewhere else than in this vehicle having such a difficult conversation.
“After you escaped, the officials posted your bounty and your suspected whereabouts. Um, it’s uh… well, Y/N… you’re the last woman alive from our college.”
You exhaled, feeling your chest constrict and tears prick your eyes.
All your lecturers… your friends… your cheerleading gang…
“Are they all gone?” The boys didn’t comment on your thick voice or the unshed tears.
Kunigami was the first one to express his remorse. “I’m sorry, Y/N. That’s the truth.”
Rin decided to rip the bandaid off quicker, leaving you reeling in confusion and despair. “The authorities put up notices for you because your status was unknown. They said that anyone who brought you back—dead or alive—would receive two million yen.”
The reality of your situation settled in like sentiment falling to the bottom of a glass jar.
You felt cold all over, your heartbeat right in your throat.
“So, you’re either going to k-kill me or turn me in, huh?”
Your heavy question was met with silence.
Surprisingly, it was Nagi at the back who piped up in his lazy, drawling tone. “Actually… we have a better plan.”
Isagi was the first to react. He shot Nagi a murderous look, shaking his head. Kunigami glanced at the white-haired man through the rearview mirror with narrowed eyes, and Rin’s scowl deepened. Chigiri, who had been quiet throughout this entire exchange, sighed out, “Idiot” under his breath.
The only one who looked supportive of what Nagi had to say was—no surprise there—Reo himself.
“It’s a good plan! She’s still healthy,” he argued on behalf of his best friend. Nagi nodded, humming.
“The virus should’ve taken her out weeks ago, but she managed to survive all on her own in such dirty conditions… I really think we should give it a shot.”
The air in the car changed; thickening and becoming ripe with tension. Barou’s arms suddenly felt too hot around your body, and you broke out into a sweat.
“It could work,” Isagi started out slowly, rubbing his chin. He had a look on his face you knew all too well—that calculative, goal-hungry stare that would eventually destroy his enemies.
Rin tilted his head towards the backseat, his turquoise eyes drawing circles on the car’s water-stained ceiling. “Do you think that would be legal for us to do?”
“We have to keep her hidden.” Chigiri spoke up, demanding everyone's attention. “The authorities can’t know that we have a woman with us or we’d be punished. We have to be very careful with Y/N.”
You were still drawing blanks on their ideas, growing more frustrated every single second you were kept in the dark from their decisions on your fate. “What do you fucking assholes mean? Legal? Keeping me away from the authorities? What do you want with me?”
Your voice broke on the last question, and without warning, you started to sob. The weeks of roughing it out on your own, trying to escape from society and hide in plain sight were taking its toll on you. You wept bitterly, hiding your face behind your hair and sobbing into your shoulder.
“Shit,” someone muttered in the front.
“Give her some water.”
It was Isagi who gently coaxed your face from your shoulder, holding a bottle of clean water. You contemplated spitting a mouthful at him, but ultimately, your thirst won out and you drank deeply.
He wiped your tears off with the sleeve of his threadbare sweater and you hiccuped into a silence, already accepting your death.
“We don’t want to hurt you,” Reo murmured from the back. You lifted your swollen, red eyes to find his purple ones full of sincerity. “We actually want to keep you safe. There’s been rumours about human experiments and none of us want you to go through that. We want to keep you safe.”
You should’ve known the group’s appointed spokesperson would be a man used to spouting sweet words to get his way—whether with professors or girls—but a part of you wanted to believe Reo. You were so, so tired of fending for yourself, you wanted someone to help you with the burden of being a woman in these unacceptable times.
“Yes, Y/N.” Rin’s sudden reassurance struck you dumb with disbelief. “We have our old frat house—nobody comes by there anymore. We’ll keep you safe there and you can rest.”
It all sounded too good to be true. Here was a band of college footballers being completely sweet with you—wanting to protect, nurture and keep you hidden. But, you were waiting for the other shoe to drop; the catch in this arrangement.
“There’s more,” you whispered, scenting out their bullshit. “You’re not telling me the real reason.”
Men were never good liars—that much you could tell. So, when every single footballer glanced at the other, your senses were in red alert, demanding to uncover what was the terrible footnote to this otherwise flawless proposal.
“Well?” you muttered coldly, strengthening your resolve. “What do you want from me? What’s the catch?”
Reo was quick to turn your question around. “What? There’s no catch—”
“There is.” It was Isagi who spoke, sounding resigned and tired in the dimming darkness. “There is a catch. We shouldn’t lie to her, guys. We all agreed to tell her the truth if we found her and she was willing to listen.”
You held your breath, waiting for Isagi to drop the bomb. He seemed like he needed a moment to stabilise himself. He drew in a deep breath and unlocked his shoulders, looking you square in the eye. You half-wished he had kept you in the dark; never told you the truth. Because what he said next completely swept you off your feet, landing you onto the ground face-first and gasping in disbelief.
“It’s not about rewards or money—it’s about duty. We need your help to repopulate this city, Y/N… we want you to carry one of our babies.”
You felt a pair of broad-set shoulders shake under your smaller frame, the man underneath you stretching out his kinks and stiff muscles after a night of good sleep.
“Hm,” he groaned, brushing a hand down your bare spine. “Good morning, angel.”
Reo’s husky voice drew you back into consciousness, and you whined, burying your face into his neck to hide yourself from the morning’s glare. He chuckled at your antics, nosing your hair and pressing soft kisses onto your temple. “C’mon, sweetheart. It’s Rin’s turn with you today.”
Without missing a beat or opening your eyes, you mumbled: “Maybe you should all fuck me at one go so you guys can see who’s strong enough to knock me up.”
You meant those words as a joke, but when Reo’s shoulders stiffened, you suddenly realised the depth of danger you were flirting with.
“Don’t say such things you’ll regret, sweetheart,” he meant to tease you, gently easing you off his chest. “Or, the boys won’t stop until you give each one of us a baby.”
You tried to laugh, to shake off the sudden unease. Today was Wednesday, and Wednesdays meant pancake days in this unconventional household. You got up and slipped on Reo’s shirt, fluffing out your shorter hair. The guys had insisted you cut your locks so that it would be easier to hide them under a baseball cap and pass you off as a man if anyone came looking.
Sometimes, you did miss your femininity, but in a world where it was literally dying out, you couldn’t take any chances.
Flashing Reo a smile, you hummed. “Don’t laze around too much like Nagi—I’m making breakfast.”
In the living room, Bachira was the only one up and awake, his bright golden eyes following your every move as you wished him good morning and prepared your ingredients. Without a sound, he slipped behind you, calloused hands warm on your bare belly.
“Morning, beautiful,” he whispered into your ear, making goosebumps rise on your arms.
“Morning, Meguru,” you mumbled, trying to ignore how his hands were creeping up to your bare breasts. Living with seven men meant that you were subjected to their advances night and day. It got even worse when you had told them you missed your period last week, but your cycle turned out to be just a few days late.
That didn’t stop them from feeling you up, grasping your hips or pressing soft kisses to your neck when you least expected it. Like now, with Bachira’s hot breath bathing the sensitive strip of your jaw.
Meguru hadn’t been part of your kidnapping heist a few weeks ago, but he had shown up when Isagi called—ready to be of service and contribute his portion in repopulating your tiny, dying town.
Clicking your tongue at the price tag on the egg carton, you flipped the cardboard cover closed, affronted by the steep spike in those numbers.
“It’s getting bad out there, right?”
Bachira paused his efforts in running his nose down your neck, taken off guard by your sudden question. “Um. Yeah. Why’d you ask, princess?”
Because I haven’t seen the outside world in weeks. You swallowed your bitterness, focused on whipping the yolks into a golden perfection. The boys were doing their best to make you feel cosy and safe within these walls; you couldn’t be too ungrateful. They didn’t let you out for fear of someone catching sight of you—that’s why the windows and doors were all covered and barricaded.
They restricted your contact with only seven of them because they didn’t want an anonymous tip-off to result in you being taken away.
Every Blue Lock player was careful to protect their golden ace.
“Nothing,” you hummed in the breeziest voice you could muster. “Just curious, s’all.”
“Hmm.” Bachira’s hands moved up to your naked tits moving freely under Reo’s bigger t-shirt. “You smell like him,” he accused you softly with a nip to your ear. “That stupid rich boy.”
“Don’t tell me you’re jealous,” you tried not to smirk, but failed.
“Nah.” Bachira’s fingers trailed to your stiffening nipples, still sore from Reo’s ministrations (he loved biting down on them while you rode him) and eased the soft flesh in between his thumb and forefinger. “I was waiting for my turn—can’t believe I have to share you with those bastards.” You tried not to gasp and push your body back to meet his pelvis halfway, failing miserably to measure a cup full of milk. Some of the liquid sloshed onto your wrist and you heard Meguru snort.
“I love how sensitive you are, baby.”
Biting on your lower lip to stifle a whine, you pushed your ass back to brush the front of his pants, finding him already hard and waiting.
Bachira was one of the more eager boys, and you had to pace yourself and him less he fucked you on this counter and ruined Rin’s day with you.
“Meguru—”
“I know, I know,” he groaned, sounding both lustful and disappointed. “You’re emo Itoshi’s tonight. Fucking stupid stick game.” Cursing himself for literally getting the shorter end of the stick, you felt his pout imprint on your skin. “But, can’t we have a little bit of fun, baby? Can I eat your pussy out at least?”
You literally throbbed at his words, and almost gave in to the rushing desire sweeping you off your feet. Almost—until you heard Isagi’s voice knocking the both of you out of this lust-filled fog.
“Hey. What’re you both doing?”
While you smelled a threat, Bachira smelled an opportunity. His grin was shark-like, cutting through the tension when he didn’t stop playing with your nipples or back down when you hissed out his name.
“What’s it look like? I’m trying to fuck her.”
You tensed, waiting for Isagi to be pissed off. He was the one who reinforced this one-night sharing rule, and to see his best friend blatantly disregarding it would set off his rigid ego.
But, to your surprise, Isagi tilted his head, taking note of your flushed cheeks and glassy eyes. “I think she… she likes it.”
Bachira glanced down to find your mouth parted slightly, brows furrowed with a deceptive look of pain when both men knew what it was. Desire.
Isagi, who could smell a goal or a wrench in the plans from a mile away, started to chuckle.
“Lift up her shirt. Continue playing with her nipples, Meguru.”
“Yes, captain,” Bachira sang, and lifted the hem of Reo’s sleep shirt up to expose your puffy, swollen nipples.
“Shit,” Isagi breathed, and you didn’t miss how he had to adjust himself through his shorts, those dark blue eyes eclipsed with a dark, unnamed emotion you were terrified to uncover. “They look so perfect and pointy.”
Bachira rolled your sensitive buds between his two fingers, ignoring your soft yelp and flinch when he began to tug on them with a bit more force. “Huh—it really is. Reo must’ve prepped her nicely for us.”
“For what?”
The voice of another lover joined the fray. You peeled your watery eyes up to find Reo’s curious expression sweeping between his two friends and your own flushed face. He didn’t seem angry that you were being fondled by Bachira in broad daylight—in fact, Reo looked like he didn’t feel anything.
He almost looked bored, sweeping those purplish hues to Isagi. “So, are we finally doing it?”
“Hmm.”
Doing what? You wanted to ask, but your head was tilted back, mouth falling open only for it to be filled by Bachira’s tongue coaxing yours to come and play with his. His kiss—if it could even be called that—was sloppy and unhurried, its full intention to leave you feeling shame and vulnerability in front of two of your other lovers.
Showing them how you easily folded and lost yourself to the sensations.
“Mm—can see her moving her hips,” Isagi’s lowered, husky voice shot a potent mix of desire and shame through your veins. “Check how wet she is Meguru.”
Abiding his best friend, Bachira dipped two fingers past the waistband of your sleep shorts. You mewled and tossed your head back when he swiped through your folds, teasingly circling your clit.
As soon as he gave you that wonderful friction, he retrieved it, leaving you high and dry.
“Meguru,” you whimpered. Bachira ignored you, holding his fingers up to the other two men; his digits glistening with your juices.
“I don’t think she can wait anymore,” Reo murmured, and this time, you caught a flash of darkness in his otherwise kind eyes. “Isagi—”
“I’ll go first.”
Meguru nudged you firmly to face the approaching, dark-haired man. You couldn’t keep your eyes off Isagi’s intense, blue eyes that were pinning you right to the spot like you were about to be burned on a stake. The fire came next when he reached out to caress your cheek, trailing his hand down your neck and grabbing your throat.
“Tease her clit again,” he ordered, and Bachira playfully said,
“Yes, captain.”
Fuck. You were growing lightheaded from the combination of Isagi choking you and Bachira running slow circles on your throbbing clit. It was even filthier when you remembered Reo was watching, most likely getting off to your desperate pinched expressions.
“Meguru… Yoichi…”
Calling them by their first name seemed to spur on those two men. Meguru eased one finger past your tight ring of muscle, melting through your spongy walls and hooking the tip of this thick index right against your g-spot. He nudged it forward in a fluid motion, like how he would effortlessly send forward a ball across the field, forcing a yelp past your kiss-swollen lips.
Your vision was purely dominated by Isagi’s increasingly unhinged expression; the sweat bulleting down his forehead, his mouth parted in a silent snarl, those dark, beautiful eyes coaxing you to jump down a well just to feel his touch…
“Y-Yoichi.”
As if he understood your deeper need, Isagi nodded feverishly at Bachira. “Remove her shorts… hold her open while I eat her out.”
Dutifully, Meguru followed his friend's instructions. You watched with wide, unblinking eyes as Yoichi got to his knees, his mouth so close to where you needed him the most.
Bachira slung your shorts down your ankles, revealing the sweet shape of your mound and the even sweeter treasure hidden in between your folds. Like a man hellbent on a mission, Yoichi gently pried your clit from under her hood, revealing the throbbing bud waiting to be licked, sucked or loved on.
You barely had time to catch your breath before his mouth was on you.
Every man in this house ate you out differently. Reo was more careful and controlled. Nagi was languid and tended to overstimulate you. Barou loved to have your legs on his shoulders as he dove in between your thighs.
But, Isagi was different; he ate you out with the determination of a man who had to prove he was the best in every way.
The feeling of his tongue swiping through your folds, those perfect pink lips sealing around your clit and how he sounded like he was making out with your pussy made you clench down on thin air.
“Yoichi…” you breathed.
Bachira went to work on stimulating you, too, tugging your shirt above your head and pinching your nipples again.
Both boys were so intent on driving you to the edge, that they didn’t realise the group of spectators they were attracting.
From the corner of your watery eyes, you noticed Rin standing, arms crossed over his broad shoulders and frosty glare—tainted with jealousy—directed towards the man in between your thighs. Kunigami had just gotten out of the shower, so his hair was still damp while Barou had returned from a workout, his muscles swollen and shiny with sweat. Chigiri and Nagi were the only ones probably still asleep, though you had little doubt your stream of moans would wake them up out of curiosity.
Meguru flicked the tip of his nails on your nipples, the sharp sting sending bites of pleasure right to your core.
“Megu—” you were interrupted again by another sloppy kiss.
“Tch. You’re all such fucking horndogs.” Rin’s grumble was white noise behind the blood rushing in your ears.
“... you’re not complaining…”
“Shut up…”
A sharp nip to your flesh inner thigh wrenched you back to the present, and you gasped, making eye contact with Isagi and his raised brow.
“You’re getting bored, Princess?”
Without missing a beat, you shook your head. “N-no, ‘Ichi. Mm’sorry.”
He clicked his tongue, obviously not buying your lie. “Here you are getting your pussy eaten out by me and you’re focusing on the other boys. Just admit that you’re a fucking cockwhore, Y/N.”
You gaped at his words, and your rage was lost when Bachira dragged you back to the counter, arranging you face down and ass up.
“M-Meguru—!”
“Come on, who wants to fuck her first,” he boldly exclaimed, shaking you to the core. “She’s ready for a baby.”
You burned from the inside out at how cheaply he was treating you; that sensation amplified by the sharpest slap of humiliation across your cheeks, Bachira’s handprint glowing warmly on your skin. He spanked you again, matching his mark on your right cheek to your left one, letting you cry out and clench down on thin air.
“Me.” A deep, resonate voice which you loved having at your ear while he fucked you on every Monday night. After all—a King always went first.
As one of the bigger guys, Barou’s physique gave him the advantage over the others to call dibs on you first, his undeniably good genetics and strong bone structure a contender for healthy babies.
You felt Bachira’s warmth melt from your side to be replaced by the feel of Shoei’s toned thighs pressed against your rear.
He soothed the spanks left on your skin with one large, coarse palm, and hummed deeply.
“You ready, pretty?”
Nodding, you turned your head to the side, unable to believe that you were in such a vulnerable position to be fucked by the entire football team.
You weren’t going to lie—you had imagined yourself in this position before. But, it was always in your wildest fantasies; to be defiled by the football team in your tiny uniform behind the bleachers. If you were being honest, every girl on campus had the same daydream, but you were closer to the unattainable. The entire idea was such a cliche, and yet, here you were, in a room full of hungry, testosterone-fuelled men who eagerly waited to have their turn with you—the pretty cheerleader from their bygone days before the world tried to kill humanity off.
Barou wasted no time in sinking his thick cock into you, groaning as your body took him inch by inch. He rubbed your hips, leaning forward to gently thumb your nipple. “There you go, baby. Taking me so well.”
His words were a stark contrast from his actions. Shoei gave a low, guttural groan when he bottomed out, a dirty thrill shooting down your spine at the feel of his entire cock moulding with your walls as seven other men gaze lustfully at you.
Through the shine of an old kettle on the counter top, you noticed Isagi palming himself through his shorts. Bachira was blatantly jacking himself off, one hand inside his sleep shorts. Kunigami was sitting on the sofa, staring at you slack-jawed and completely hard under his towel. Reo was the more subtle one, furtively glancing around and looking slightly uncomfortable, but still unable to tear his eyes from you.
Chigiri and Nagi had woken up, and Rin was standing a little ways by the door, distancing himself from the activities taking place.
For a split second, you felt bad for him—Rin was supposed to have you today, but he had to wait for his turn as the other guys fucked you; figuratively and literally blue-balled by his own teammates. It would’ve made you mad on his behalf if you weren’t—
“Ow!”
A sharp tug on your roots snapped your head back, and your cry bounced off the walls. Barou’s lips were on your neck, his hot breath fanning across your neck.
“Did I tell you you could be distracted? Pay attention to when your King fucks you.”
From the back, you heard Bachira snicker, but every thought flew out of your head when Barou set a pace which had your toes curling in your house slippers. He clamped one hand around the delicate roots of your hair, while the other guided your hips to meet his halfway.
The sound of balls hitting flesh filled the air, along with your animalistic groans and Barou’s deep ones. You heard a few more muffled groans, and someone cursing, but your thoughts were doused in wet cotton, growing heavier and fuzzier.
You could barely keep your eyes open, only cognizant of Barou’s cock shaping your walls and the impending ball of heat waiting to unravel right under your navel. Meeting his thrusts cleanly, soft mewls fell from your plush lips like dew, mingling with a bit of drool puddling onto the counter right under your mouth.
Barou was fucking you stupid and the other men knew it. He couldn’t stop the feral grin splitting his face in half when your hips bucked, a little slutty tick which told every man you were about to cum.
Without warning, you felt wet warmth fill you to the brim—your first load of the day taken like a champ.
Shoei hadn’t let you cum, and you reeled back from the disappointment with barely any grace; your soft sob was replaced by a moan when another man lined up his cock to your stuffed entrance.
You smelled his fresh pine cologne before you saw him, and sensed Rin’s impatience the second he gripped your jaw and wrenched your face back for a deep, frenzied kiss.
“Fucking whore,” he whispered into the heat of your mouth. “Letting the other boys feel you up when it’s my turn with you today. Where’s your shame?”
Your answer melted as one with a dulcet moan when Rin slid two fingers in between your swollen folds, testing the waters of your arousal. He barely cared when his digits were coated with a combination of Barou’s cum and your juices; he just stuck those soiled, pale and nimble fingers which could’ve rivalled a skilled pianist down your throat. You gagged on them, eyes going blurry and all teary from the flavouring of sin heavy on your tongue.
“Rin,” you hiccuped, and he hummed.
“Take me deeper, baby.”
His command brought a throbbing wave of desperation arresting you from head to toe. You tried to bring his fingers further down your gullet, but gagged when he was almost knuckle-deep.
“Mhpmh!” Your syrupy moan made every man groan, the sheer desperation in how you attempted to fully swallow Rin’s fingers a commendable feat considering he had absurdly thick fingers to match his height.
“Good girl,” Rin praised you in a husky voice when he felt your throat bob around his digits. “You’re really such the perfect fuckdoll, huh? Always so ready for us.”
“Mhmm…” your eyes rolled back into your head, your entire body tensing when you felt his cock slowly breach past your tight ring of muscle.
“Fucking take this dick, baby, I know you can,” the youngest striker urged, his words beyond filthy compared to the other men. Rin was one of the only few people in this house who could talk you through the immense pleasure, and you loved him all the more for it.
His obscene mouth would never fail to leave you reeling from the difference in his demeanour; sour and quiet when he wasn’t fucking you, to brash and downright filthy when he was egging you towards an orgasm.
You loved Rin and his duality; lived to watch it come to life.
You wanted to swallow him down and eat him up whole to satiate the deep well of lust inside of you no matter the price.
“Rin…” you gurgled past his fingers. “Mhmmmore.”
“More?” he interpreted your gurgles with the ghost of a chuckle. You quite liked it when Rin laughed even if it was a soft exhale; it made you feel lighter to hear his happiness. He hummed and plunged his fingers back down your throat, playing with the soft palate of your tongue, while his cock inched deeper and deeper into your sacred heat.
The second he bottomed out, his forehead thumped onto your shoulder, a long drawn out groan of relief radiating warmth right into your throbbing heart. Rin’s reactions were adorable as they were pussy stirring, his duality further exacerbated by those spit-slicked fingers retracting from your mouth and moving down to your puffy clit.
He gently rubbed circles into them, catching you whenever you bucked into his embrace. His lips were on your neck, his hot breath expelling heated groans onto the sensitive skin. Every single shaky circle on your sensitive nub was pulling you closer and closer into a white hole of pleasure.
Your moans were reaching fever pitch, and the entire house was doused with the arousal of seven men who couldn’t wait to fuck you.
The boys whispered something over your stream of mewls and your feet were off the ground, your limp body in Rin’s arms. Without a second to spare, he brought you to the main bedroom where the largest bed could fit at least three men.
There, he laid you down, your head dangling off the edge so your mouth was hanging wide open for the next man to defile.
Rin eased himself in between your spread thighs, placing a kiss onto your sternum almost reverently and leaving more pressees on your jaw and cheeks. You felt someone else rustle up towards the other side of the bed, and your eyes met Kunigami’s darkened ones. His towel was shed off, a heap on the floor, and his long, girthy cock throbbed in anticipation over your face.
“Open up for me, pretty girl,” Rensuke murmured, grazing your cheek and then hooking a thumb on your bottom lip to spread you wider. You whined, overstimulated on both ends when you felt both men sink into you at the same time. Rin bottomed out the second Rensuke hit the back of your throat, making you jerk and gag.
The both of them were big—far too big for your smaller body. It was a struggle to take them both and you felt your body reacting to the impossible feat.
“Ssh, ssh,” Rin whispered into your hair. “Relax, baby. You can take us, I know you can.”
With watery eyes, all you could do was mewl, hips bucking pathetically. Rin’s long girth was directly hitting your g-spot with every thrust, and Rensuke was splitting your throat in half. You felt like you could drown in their musk and the thick scent of sex in the air.
Something bitter hit the back of your throat, and you gagged, about to spit Rensuke out when he clamped one hand on your throat, telling you to keep him there if you wanted to know what was good for you.
“Hold me, sweetheart. Hold it,” the large football player murmured. You were sure your entire system was going haywire—your pussy and mind in war to come out at the top of your frazzled emotions.
One of your hands was buried in Rin’s hair, and another was perched on Kunigami’s thigh, trying to ease him down your battered throat.
Without warning, the other man withdrew his thick length from your mouth, splatters of drool dripping down your chin and neck; defiling you even more.
“Fucking hurry it up, Rin,” Kunigami growled, throwing the other striker a murderous look which juxtaposed his usually kind expression jarringly. “I need to cum in her.”
Rin grunted, returning the other striker’s glare with a hostile one of his own. “Shut the fuck up—let me have this with her.” Kunigami stroked himself, trying to keep himself hard as Rin started to jackhammer into your willing cunt.
Your screams of pleasure echoed around the room, contrasting with the other men’s deep growls and groans. It sounded like a smorgasbord of erotic sounds, complemented by the slap of Rin’s balls on your ass.
The youngest man was close on the verge of his orgasm, his face pinched and drawn. You thought he would’ve taken this chance to cum and ignore your pleasure, like Barou did, but you were sorely wrong when it came to Rin. He pressed a thumb to your swollen clit, rubbing it soft and sweet, increasing the pressure when you started to buck and whine into his embrace.
You smelled the sting of his sweat, felt it drip into your open mouth, tainting it with the taste of Kunigami’s precum and his own excitement.
“I’m close,” you sobbed out, arms like vines around his shoulders, nails stabbing into his back. “G’na cum, Rin-Rin—fuck, don’t stop, please don’t stop.”
He shook his head, a feral look of pure determined arousal lighting those beautiful features. “Cum for me, baby. Make a mess—show the other guys how much you love my cock.”
Your back arched, and your mouth fell open in a silent scream. Your thighs tensed around his waist, almost clamping the air out of his lungs from how hard you were clenching around him. The minute ticks, the red lines you left down his back, and your eyes rolling back into your skull arrived at a blinding crescendo.
“Oh! Ugh, Rin—!”
Your first orgasm hit you like a brick wall, steamrolling every thought from your blank mind. Rin’s face fell into the crook of your neck, and his stuttering hips brought forth a fountain of warmth flowing freely into your womb.
You were coasting, high on hormones and pleasure, when he disappeared from your embrace, only to be replaced by another body. Kunigami’s lips on your skin were like warm fluttering butterfly wings, slowly bringing you back to the ground.
“I’m here next, okay, baby?” His tender tone didn’t prepare you for how his cock stretched you out.
“Too big,” you muttered, losing every shred of your composure and shame to hiccup those dirty words. “You’re t-too big.”
“Yeah?” He kissed your tears away. “Aren’t you glad I can stretch you out? Give your sweet body some practice when you have to push out our babies?”
His words ignited a flame right in your lower belly—making you cry out when Rensuke started to slip inside your already overflowing hole. Gushes of white streaked your thighs, the other men’s releases staining the bed underneath you.
As you got used to his slightly wider girth, you didn’t expect Kunigami to roll you on your hands and knees. His cock slid back into your waiting heat, the angle making him feel bigger, and stretching you out even more.
But, it also placed you face to face with the other guys who were eyeing you hungrily—none more so than Reo.
One thick hand wound the hair around the nape of your neck to snap your head up, keeping you firmly in place to watch the lust dancing in their eyes.
“You really should see how fucking sexy you look, baby,” Chigiri hummed, those bright eyes latched onto the spot where you and Kunigami were connected. “We could eat you whole—you fucking little slut.”
“So pretty,” Reo cooed, and Nagi nodded in agreement.
The lilac-haired man got bold enough to stride up to you, perching himself on the edge of the bed where your swinging tits were mesmerising him.
“Raise her up a little bit, Ren.”
Kunigami obeyed Reo’s orders, settling on his haunches and bringing you up with one arm securely snug around your neck. Your tinier hands fluttered to the thick trunk of his forearm as if trying to pry him off, the breath in your lungs knocked out by Rensuke’s headlock.
But, whatever bit of oxygen you managed to inhale from Kunigami’s loosening hold was taken away as Reo leaned forward to kiss and suck your tits. He massaged the neglected one with one hand, his lips busy toying with your right nipple. You watched with bated breath as his tongue caressed the hardening flesh, the firm suction of his lips on the vulnerable flesh sending pangs of pleasure straight to your core.
You cried out, throwing your head back to bump Rensuke’s chin. He grunted, and shifted his arm a bit so he could grasp your neck instead, holding you steady as his cock wrecked you and Reo’s mouth on your tits continued driving you insane.
“She’s drooling,” Nagi drawled, catching their attention.
Every eye zeroed in on your blissed-out face, your mouth parting and a little bit of spit dripping past your chin. Kunigami chuckled, breathless and almost feral when he leaned forward to sloppily make out with you.
The sound of wet lips smacking on each other and a big cock stirring you closer to another orgasm made every man in the room throb—even those who had already come. Every footballer was thinking of the numerous ways he could bend you over and fuck you hard until you squirted all over them; each of their mind’s eye tainted with your sweet moans and even sweeter release.
You gave a short scream, your orgasm catching everyone off guard when you almost folded forward if it wasn’t for Reo catching you. Your body was shuddering like someone had tasered you—a pure scream of pleasure rebounding across the thin walls.
Reo held you as you sobbed, your release triggering Kunigami’s own orgasm. More warmth filled you up and you had lost track of how many men had already came in you; your brain a complete mush with no solid thoughts in it.
Like clockwork, another cock filled you—this time it was Reo’s again—and your mouth was stuffed with someone else's length. You were dragged into a cowgirl position by Reo who let Nagi mount you from the back, both of their lengths taking turns pistoning into your stretched out heat.
“Disgusting,” someone muttered in disdain over the sounds of two men concurrently fucking one woman. Neither of you cared, and you were pulled into a sloppy makeout session with Nagi as Reo continued sucking and licking your already reddened nipples.
Every part of your orifice was swollen, but you still took Chigiri without complaint when it was his turn. You were already like jelly at this point, your entire body sagging on the bed and going numb from the neverending pleasure.
Thankfully, he was quicker, cumming into you within minutes, and kissing you on the forehead afterwards. Your hole was stuffed to the brim with white hot cum, and you thought you couldn’t take anymore until you felt Bachira sliding behind you, hitching your thighs up.
“Hey, Princess,” the golden-eyed menace cooed. “Did you think we would forget about you?”
You felt the bed dip, and Isagi’s face swam in your vision. He came closer to give you a kiss, and his lips felt like a soothing balm on a hot day.
“Yoichi,” you whispered, eyes heavy and body already close to shutting down from exhaustion. “M’so tired.”
“I know, pretty girl, I know,” the dark-haired man whispered. “But, Meguru and I haven’t had our turn with you yet. It would be unfair if we didn't, right?” He gently stroked your cheek, voice saturated with fake sympathy. “You wouldn’t want us to not fuck you after you’ve already taken everyone’s cock, right? You’re not that cruel to deny us, are you, baby?”
“Fucking twisted weirdo,” you heard another person quip. But, you were too far gone to stop the collision of his lips on yours, that skilled mouth drinking away all of your complaints.
As he distracted you, Bachira slipped his thick and veiny cock right into your waiting cunt, his groan low and erotic against your shoulder.
“How’re you still so wet and tight after so many rounds?” He nipped your shoulder in frustration, setting a pace that rutted your body back and forth on the soft sheets. “You’re a fucking nympho, baby—so needy for our cocks.”
“Shut up,” you groaned in between Yoichi’s hot mouth pressing onto yours. You tried to squirm away to get back some of your lost breath, but Isagi refused to let you part from his lips. He chased after you, mouth sealing over yours again and again as you tried to twist your head this way and that.
Strings of spittle clung to both of your chins, and that sick part inside of you which wanted more pushed the voice of common sense in your head out of the way—making you fall head over heels for Yoichi’s mouth on yours. You kissed him back with as much hunger and zeal as your tired body could muster, pushing your boundaries right to the very edge.
Isagi’s ego fed heartily on your submission, greedily taking everything you gave him.
By the end of this sloppy makeout session, your lips were tingling, and Bachira had already come inside of you—getting off to the sight of his best friend and the girl they were sharing stuck in an intimate lip lockdown.
The last man to take you was drawing it out. He took your face in his hands, nudging you free from Bachira’s grasp and rolling you into his arms.
“Out,” Isagi commanded, in a tone that broke no argument. “Leave me and Y/N alone.”
The rest of the guys began to grumble, but one sharp glare from the terrifying striker was enough to quiet everyone down. Indisputably, Yoichi ran the show, and his ego was bigger than any of theirs combined—the lesser knew when to give way to someone who could devour them without regrets.
Everyone turned to leave, and the last one was Rin who hovered by the doorway, unwilling to abandon you to Yoichi’s devices. The other dark-haired man shot his nemesis a frigid stare that could’ve frozen over Hell’s fires.
“Out, Itoshi.”
The younger man countered his superior’s glare with a mutinous one of his own.
“Who’s to say you won’t hurt her?” Rin’s nostrils flared, flickering his gaze to your closed eyes and limp body. “We can’t trust you with her.”
Isagi snorted. “If you want to watch, be my guest. I’ll fuck her so good she’ll forget about you assholes.”
The competition was on, and you were the final prize for these men to win. But, it wasn’t just your body they wanted—each of them fought to secure your womb so it would grow their fruits and give them the family they dreamed of.
You were their greatest treasure, and they would go to the ends of the earth to make sure you were safe—even watching the other men to make sure none of them would hurt you.
Isagi was a packaged dynamite waiting to blow; he was too unpredictable and Rin would hate himself if he pushed you too far or injured you in any shape or form. He planted himself against the wall, arms folded across his chest while those searing teal eyes watched you gasp and preen for Isagi’s attention.
The dark-haired man was playing with your clit, using the dirtiest tactic to rile you up so you would explode in pleasure for him. His mouth was toying with your swollen nipples, and Rin winced when he bit on the tender nub, earning your shriek. It didn’t take a genius to see you were hanging on the tether of your sanity, and with your body already keyed up to the hundreds, your next orgasm was sure to leave you delirious.
Your small hands wound up in his hair, holding him close despite the excruciating pleasure. If Yoichi was the current wrecking you apart, he was also the life buoy you clung on to as your body coasted on the unending pleasure.
“I don’t even need to make you wet, baby,” he breathed right into the shell of your ear, gripping your hips hard. “You’re already so stretched out for me.”
Your breathing caught, a hitched moan echoing around the room when he sank deep into your heat with little to no prep. Isagi kissed you on your lax mouth, and tasted your tears right on his tongue.
“You okay, baby?” He forced your face to his, and your eyes fluttered open. All you could give was a tired nod, and he grinned down at you. “Okay. Are you ready?”
You nodded again, and that was when another person caught your attention. “Rin?”
“M’here,” the other dark-haired striker murmured, his eyes softening with fondness when you smiled at him. “I’ll make sure you get your rest afterwards.”
You hummed, and the idea of knocking off to sleep sounded so good, your eyes had already slipped close.
“Hey—focus on me, sweetheart.”
Isagi’s hand around your neck squeezed down, cutting off your air supply. You gasped and sputtered, eyes rolling wide open. His grin was feral, touched with a hint of insanity. “Good girl. Now, watch me fuck you, sweetheart.”
He pushed your back onto the pillows, and your eyes instantly went to where you both were connected. Isagi’s pretty cock was smeared with your juices and the other men’s cum, the sight alone so filthy it made your cheeks flush.
“‘Ichi,” you hiccuped, going dumb on every stroke of his heavy cock against your velvet walls. “I-I’m close.”
Your pussy fluttered around his length, the overstimulation touching you like a livewire. He rolled his hips into yours, the sloppy sounds of your pussy getting him higher than any risky goal. There was a reason he went last, and it was because he wanted to savour the sounds you were making; the way your pretty eyes went all glassy and hazy just for him.
Isagi loved you so fucking much, he swore he couldn’t breathe when you started to chant his name.
“‘Ichi, ‘Ichi,” you gasped out, twisting in his grip, your back arching. “K-Kiss me, ‘Ichi.”
He obliged you, ignoring the jealous presence waiting right in the wings, waiting for him to fuck up. But, Isagi was gentle with you. He tenderly planted hot, open-mouthed kisses onto your parted lips, drinking in your sweet whines and mewls of desperation. Isagi himself wasn’t in control of his body; that was the effect you had on him.
You drove him crazy with your supple love and beautiful smiles. Everytime you looked at him, it felt like he had been shot right in the chest. Yoichi was so, so crazy for you, and luckily for him, your feelings were the same.
He let Rin get an eyeful of you licking his lower lip, your treacherous side coming to light when you blatantly showed off your preference for the unassuming striker. The other man looked like he was swallowing shards of concrete, his expression twisted in disgust. But, Isagi had already given him an out and Rin didn’t want to take it—he was stuck with the consequences of his actions.
“Yoichi,” you sighed out his name, all stickily sweet in your high-pitched moan. “I love you, ‘Ichi.”
“Yeah?” Isagi grunted, your little confession going straight to his burgeoning ego. “Say it louder, baby. Tell the whole world what you feel for me.”
“I love you,” your gasp of pleasure when he changed the angle of his driving hips fed the monster inside of him. “I love you!”
“Fuck,” Isagi bit down on your neck, leaving behind a mark for the other men to see. Rin’s own marks were on your shoulders and breasts, but Isagi had gone one step further to make his impression on the tender skin between your neck and jaw—right above your pulse point. It was so every beat of your heart echoed with his imprint and every time any of the boys looked at you, they were reminded of who you loved the most.
“‘Ichi,” you gasped out, and your stuttering hips told Isagi you were already close. Your thighs tensed around him, and he fueled your unravelling further by rubbing on your clit with his rough thumb, the action making you jerk and gasp like you had been electrocuted.
“Yoichi… ‘Ichi… Yoichi!” you cried out his name as your body gave one final push—your release slamming into you with the force of a thousand brick walls, dragging you straight into darkness.
You thought you might’ve died in this instance. Your entire body felt too heavy, and you could physically hear every beat of your heart.
Someone was holding you tightly to his chest, his lips peppering gentle kisses on your face. You pried your eyes open after what felt like two hours trying to recollect your bearings, only to find a pair of teal eyes gazing down at you in worry.
“Baby?” Rin’s voice was soft and unintrusive. He let you get used to the bright light of a warm afternoon—watching you stretch yourself and ease your muscles.
“What time is it?” you asked in a thick voice. Staring down your body, someone had cleaned you up and dressed you in Kunigami’s oversize t-shirt and Rin’s boxers. You felt refreshed and well-taken care of, your entire heart swelling eight times its size to fit your love for every man in there.
Rin leaned forward and you caught his face with your shaky palms, caressing those defined cheekbones.
“You slept for almost an hour. Bachira thought you had died.”
You stifled a giggle, tracing your thumbs over the shape of his mouth. Rin let you pull him in for a kiss, and like the worrywart he was, he didn’t deepen it, not wanting to give into the insatiable lust humming in his veins.
If you thought one horny, touch-starved man was a handful, you hadn’t expected the other seven to come through the door and pile up on the bed, each of them clamouring to cuddle you.
You giggled when Nagi tripped over Reo to snuggle up on your left side, only to be stopped by Bachira who literally yanked the taller man out of the way to steal his place. In the end, you took turns cuddling with each man, their deep sigh of relief that things had turned out great and not as weird as they thought, fed right into your relaxed soul.
As sunlight streamed in through the blinds, the outside world may be in an upheaval, but within these four walls, you were as safe as you could be in your favourite football team’s arms.
©️lalunanymph, 2023
#isagi x you#isagi smut#bachira x reader#bachira smut#itoshi rin x reader#itoshi rin smut#kunigami x reader#kunigami smut#chigiri x reader#chigiri smut#nagi x reader#nagi smut#reo x reader#reo smut#barou x reader#barou smut#blue lock smut#🦢 writes
10K notes
·
View notes
Text
"A large clinical trial in South Africa and Uganda has shown that a twice-yearly injection of a new pre-exposure prophylaxis drug gives young women total protection from HIV infection.
The trial tested whether the six-month injection of lenacapavir would provide better protection against HIV infection than two other drugs, both daily pills. All three medications are pre-exposure prophylaxis (or PrEP) drugs.
Physician-scientist Linda-Gail Bekker, principal investigator for the South African part of the study, tells Nadine Dreyer what makes this breakthough so significant and what to expect next.
Tell us about the trial and what it set out to achieve
The Purpose 1 trial with 5,000 participants took place at three sites in Uganda and 25 sites in South Africa to test the efficacy of lenacapavir and two other drugs.
Lenacapavir (Len LA) is a fusion capside inhibitor. It interferes with the HIV capsid, a protein shell that protects HIV’s genetic material and enzymes needed for replication. It is administered just under the skin, once every six months.
The randomised controlled trial, sponsored by the drug developers Gilead Sciences, tested several things.
The first was whether a six-monthly injection of lenacapavir was safe and would provide better protection against HIV infection as PrEP for women between the ages of 16 and 25 years than Truvada F/TDF, a daily PrEP pill in wide use that has been available for more than a decade.
Secondly, the trial also tested whether Descovy F/TAF, a newer daily pill, was as effective as F/TDF...
The trial had three arms. Young women were randomly assigned to one of the arms in a 2:2:1 ratio (Len LA: F/TAF oral: F/TDF oral) in a double blinded fashion. This means neither the participants nor the researchers knew which treatment participants were receiving until the clinical trial was over.
In eastern and southern Africa, young women are the population who bear the brunt of new HIV infections. They also find a daily PrEP regimen challenging to maintain, for a number of social and structural reasons.
During the randomised phase of the trial none of the 2,134 women who received lenacapavir contracted HIV. There was 100 percent efficiency.
By comparison, 16 of the 1,068 women (or 1.5%) who took Truvada (F/TDF) and 39 of 2,136 (1.8%) who received Descovy (F/TAF) contracted the HIV virus...
What is the significance of these trials?
This breakthrough gives great hope that we have a proven, highly effective prevention tool to protect people from HIV.
There were 1.3 million new HIV infections globally in the past year. Although that’s fewer than the 2 million infections seen in 2010, it is clear that at this rate we are not going to meet the HIV new infection target that UNAIDS set for 2025 (fewer than 500,000 globally) or potentially even the goal to end Aids by 2030...
For young people, the daily decision to take a pill or use a condom or take a pill at the time of sexual intercourse can be very challenging.
HIV scientists and activists hope that young people may find that having to make this “prevention decision” only twice a year may reduce unpredictability and barriers.
For a young woman who struggles to get to an appointment at a clinic in a town or who can’t keep pills without facing stigma or violence, an injection just twice a year is the option that could keep her free of HIV.
What happens now?
The plan is that the Purpose 1 trial will go on but now in an “open label” phase. This means that study participants will be “unblinded”: they will be told whether they have been in the “injectable” or oral TDF or oral TAF groups.
They will be offered the choice of PrEP they would prefer as the trial continues.
A sister trial is also under way: Purpose 2 is being conducted in a number of regions including some sites in Africa among cisgender men, and transgender and nonbinary people who have sex with men.
It’s important to conduct trials among different groups because we have seen differences in effectiveness. Whether the sex is anal or vaginal is important and may have an impact on effectiveness.
How long until the drug is rolled out?
We have read in a Gilead Sciences press statement that within the next couple of months [from July 2024] the company will submit the dossier with all the results to a number of country regulators, particularly the Ugandan and South African regulators.
The World Health Organization will also review the data and may issue recommendations.
We hope then that this new drug will be adopted into WHO and country guidelines.
We also hope we may begin to see the drug being tested in more studies to understand better how to incorporate it into real world settings.
Price is a critical factor to ensure access and distribution in the public sector where it is badly needed.
Gilead Sciences has said it will offer licences to companies that make generic drugs, which is another critical way to get prices down.
In an ideal world, governments will be able to purchase this affordably and it will be offered to all who want it and need protection against HIV."
-via The Conversation, July 3, 2024
#HOLY FUCKING SHIT#100% EFFECTIVE AGAINST HIV INFECTION#AND JUST TWO SHOTS PER YEAR HOLY FUCKING SHIT#THIS IS UNBELIEVABLY GAME-CHANGING#hiv#hiv aids#hiv awareness#lgbtq news#medical news#drug trials#hiv prevention#prep#uganda#south africa#aids#aids crisis#good news#hope
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
The Best News of Last Week
1. Arizona governor Ok's over the counter birth control
Arizona Gov. Katie Hobbs (D) has expanded access to over-the-counter birth control that will “soon be available to Arizonans,” according to a press release.
Arizonans 18 and older will soon be able to go to their local pharmacy and purchase oral contraceptives without a doctor’s prescription.
2. ‘Great news’: EU hails discovery of massive phosphate rock deposit in Norway
A massive underground deposit of high-grade phosphate rock in Norway, pitched as the world’s largest, is big enough to satisfy world demand for fertilisers, solar panels and electric car batteries over the next 50 years, according to the company exploiting the resource. About 90% of the world’s mined phosphate rock is used in agriculture for the production of phosphorous for the fertiliser industry, for which there is currently no substitute.
3. U.S. Is Destroying the Last of Its Once-Vast Chemical Weapons Arsenal
Decades behind its initial schedule, the dangerous job of eliminating the world’s only remaining declared stockpile of lethal chemical munitions will be completed as soon as Friday.
4. Chinese scientists create edible food packaging to replace plastic
By incorporating certain soy proteins into the structure, Chinese University of Hong Kong scientists successfully created edible food packaging.
5. World's 1st 'tooth regrowth' medicine moves toward clinical trials in Japan
A Japanese research team is making progress on the development of a groundbreaking medication that may allow people to grow new teeth, with clinical trials set to begin in July 2024. The tooth regrowth medicine is intended for people who lack a full set of adult teeth due to congenital factors.
6. No Longer Endangered: The Bald Eagle is an Icon of the ESA
When the Endangered Species Act (ESA) was enacted in 1973, bald eagle population numbers across the country showed that the species was close to disappearing. Before the ESA, in the 1950s and ‘60s, eagles were shot routinely despite the protection. The ESA listing helped bring public attention to the issue.
Through the early 1970s and into the early ‘80s, numbers increased gradually. Then, as you got into the ‘90s, there was still gradual growth. From the late ‘90s into the 2000s, the population really exploded. There was a doubling rate of every several years or so for a while.
7. Deforestation in Brazil's Amazon drops 34% in first half 2023
Deforestation in Brazil's Amazon fell 34% in the first half of 2023, preliminary government data showed on Thursday, hitting its lowest level in four years as President Luiz Inacio Lula da Silva institutes tougher environmental policies.
Data produced by Brazil's national space research agency Inpe indicated that 2,649 square km (1,023 square miles) of rainforest were cleared in the region in the half year, the lowest for the period since 2019.
----
That's it for this week :)
This newsletter will always be free. If you liked this post you can support me with a small kofi donation:
Support this newsletter ❤️
Also don’t forget to reblog.
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
Dandelion News - September 15-21
Like these weekly compilations? Tip me at $kaybarr1735 or check out my new(ly repurposed) Patreon!
1. A beam of hope for North America’s most endangered sparrow
“Dozens of conservationists, gathered some distance away to avoid spooking the skittish sparrows, celebrated the [release of the 1000th captive-raised sparrow] in an unprecedented recovery program that in only a few years has doubled the bird’s wild population, from a mere 80 five years ago to some 200 today. […] “What we have achieved is the best case scenario.””
2. U.S. overdose deaths plummet, saving thousands of lives
“"In the states that have the most rapid data collection systems, we’re seeing declines of twenty percent, thirty percent," said Dr. Nabarun Dasgupta, an expert on street drugs at the University of North Carolina. […] According to Donaldson, many people using fentanyl now carry naloxone, a medication that reverses most opioid overdoses. He said his friends also use street drugs with others nearby, ready to offer aid and support when overdoses occur.”
3. Propagated corals reveal increased resistance to bleaching across the Caribbean during the fatal heat wave of 2023
“”[… Y]oung corals bred for restoration are a lot more resistant to bleaching under extreme levels of heat stress than the prevailing corals on the reef." [… Unlike with the previous propagation strategy, fragmentation, e]very time a population reproduces, new offspring receive newly mixed sets of genes through recombination, making them different from their parent colonies and thus enabling adaptation.”
4. Habitat Management Helps At-Risk Butterflies
“For a number of at-risk butterflies in the United States, habitat management can play an important role in keeping them from going extinct. [… “In] places where people are actively engaged with ways to manage the habitat, the butterflies are doing the best,” said Cheryl Schultz, a professor of conservation biology at Washington State University[….]”
5. Study: Protecting the ocean helps fight malnutrition
“[The study] found that fish catches in coral reefs could increase by up to 20 percent by expanding sustainable-use marine protected areas — that is, areas where some fishing is allowed with restrictions[, … and] that sustainable-use marine protected areas have on average 15 percent more fish biomass than non-protected areas. […] “Allowing regulated fishing in marine protected areas can support healthy fish populations, while also having a positive impact on the quality of life of surrounding communities.””
6. [FWS] Advances Effort to Create Urban Conservation Footprint in Tucson
““We want to continue to work together to create an urban footprint to improve access to nature, conserve habitats, and improve air and water quality.” […] The area provides habitat for several federally listed species, including southwestern willow flycatcher, western yellow-billed cuckoo, and Mexican garter snake. If protected, the area will also help connect critical habitat for jaguar and Chiracahua leopard frog.”
7. ‘Exciting’ solar breakthrough means energy can be kept in sustainable batteries that don’t overheat
“The technology is based on a specially designed molecule of carbon, hydrogen and nitrogen that changes shape when it comes into contact with sunlight. These are common elements - providing an alternative to other technologies relying on scarce materials like lithium. […] A unique feature of the system is that the molecules also provide cooling in the photovoltaic cell[, which can store solar energy “for up to 18 years.”]”
8. Sea turtles make big comeback on sandy beaches at 2 British military bases in Cyprus
“[… The] number of nests surpass[ed] last year’s record count by nearly 25%, environmentalists said Tuesday. […] “The steep increase in turtle nests has been the result of a consistent, systematic ‘hands-off’ approach, together with enforcement efforts to minimize illegal, damaging activities on nesting beaches[….” D]aily patrols by volunteers ensure that aluminum cages set atop the nests remain in place to protect the turtles from predators like foxes and dogs.”
9. First ever photograph of rare bird species New Britain Goshawk
“The last documented scientific record of the bird is from 1969[….] Working closely with [“the Indigenous Mengen and Mamusi peoples”], WWF hopes to support local stewardship to safeguard the future of these incredible biodiversity hotspots through community-led conservation.”
10. Hospitals begin offering breakthrough radiation therapy for metastatic cancer tumors
“[First,] a patient is injected with a radioactive glucose (or sugar) tracer. The machine picks up the tracer in real time and in bright colors, [… then] reads a signal from the cancer cells breaking down the tracer. [… “The] machine is automatically and autonomously reacting and responding to those signals by shooting radiation back to their source[….]””
September 8-14 news here | (all credit for images and written material can be found at the source linked; I don’t claim credit for anything but curating.)
#hopepunk#good news#birds#endangered#endangered species#conservation#tw drugs#drugs#naloxone#coral#coral reef#coral bleaching#mexico#united states#vermont#butterflies#habitat#fish#malnutrition#fishing#food insecurity#arizona#nature#solar#solar energy#solar power#turtles#sea turtle#cancer#medicine
309 notes
·
View notes
Text
Another issue that seems to fuel effemimania is our cultural tendency to sexualize femininity and femaleness in all its forms. While countless feminist writers and theorists have analyzed the ways in which the sexualization of femaleness and femininity permeates virtually every aspect of our culture and has a negative impact on most women's lives, they have typically ignored the way this tendency creates an environment in which "male femininity" is almost always considered in purely sexual terms. For example, most popular images and impressions of trans women revolve around sexuality: from "she-male" and "chicks with dicks" pornography to media portrayals of us as sexual deceivers, prostitutes, and sex workers. And of course, there are the recurring themes of trans women who transition in order either to gain the sexual attention of men or to fulfill some kind of bizarre sex fantasy (both of which appear regularly in the media, and also in Bailey and Blanchard's model of MTF transgenderism). In this context, it's easy to understand why Bailey and Blanchard were able to get away with proposing a homosexual/autogynephilic model for MTF spectrum trans people without ever being challenged by their professional peers to apply their theories to FTM spectrum trans people. To do so would require these predominantly straight- and male-identified gatekeepers to view masculinity and maleness in purely erotic terms--in other words, to reduce maleness to the status of mere sexual object (something that they would be loath to do in the unlikely event that this line of reasoning ever crossed their minds). This unwillingness to sexualize masculinity to the extent that femininity is sexualized explains why the gatekeepers endlessly dwelled on every perceived nuance and variation that occurred in the sexual practices and fantasies of the MTF spectrum population while simultaneously adamantly claiming that there was no such thing as female transvestism, no erotic component to FTM crossdressing, and no such thing as a gay-identified trans man.
— Whipping Girl, pp 134-135 (2nd Ed)
Serano also talks about how transmascs were routinely viewed as more “psychologically stable” compared to transfems by medical professionals because it was seen as “basically rational” for a woman to want to be a man, but hysterical, pathological, and disturbing for a man to want to be a woman. Furthermore, trans women were routinely at the whims of the sexual desires of the professionals who oversaw their medical transition, with many doctors outright stating in medical documentation that they used their own levels of sexual attraction to their transfem patients as the basis for whether they would refer them for surgery or not. And on the flip side, if trans women were too feminine, too attractive to the cishet male doctors, they would be accused of faking or exaggerating for attention, while trans men were praised for their performance of masculinity and escaped the sexual eye of the overwhelmingly straight doctors - because it would be gay to do so, and of course these doctors aren’t gay! How dare you even suggest that!
The conclusion ultimately is that there is no good way to be a woman - trans women are stuck in a double bind where they must perform an incredibly rigid standard of femininity in order to be given access to hormones, and are then punished if they “go overboard” or their performance of femininity doesn’t suite the sexual tastes of the doctors who gatekeep their ability to transition. This is again where transmisogyny has a massive amount of explanatory power as a concept, and why trans men do not face this same double-bind - our masculinity can be denied as fraudulent, and often is, but the act of pursuing masculinity in the first place is seen as a genuine, taken-for-granted common sense pursuit, a “mercy” that is not afforded to our transfem siblings.
This is not to pit transmascs against transfems, but to acknowledge the basic reality that our masculinity provides us with some bargaining power in medical and psychiatric contexts, not because trans men don’t face discrimination or transphobia, but because we have the ability to be rewarded by patriarchy for our identity as men - which is itself a violently misogynistic privilege. This fact should enrage you, not towards trans women for pointing this very obvious and basic fact out to you, but towards the people and institutions conducting this violence in broad daylight
887 notes
·
View notes
Text
(Edited to add headshots because tumblr hates detail) I've etched away at this is a lovely few weeks, so click for full res and all the little details, okay? It's my love letter to the journey I've found myself on
This is long-ish, so its under the cut (but worth reading...)
I had been thinking a lot recently about that double feature episode, you know the one? I half remembered it then, when they chased a bunch of alien spies so fast through the solar system they all got thrown back in time. Half the crew went on a little undercover adventure in Toronto in 2024. It was great because they got completely cut off from the Enterprise, so half of them, well mostly Uhura and Spock if I recall correctly, spent their time collecting as many radios as possible and worked on building their own communications. Uhura and Spock were basically taking turns constantly tweaking radios by the window with wires everywhere. Oh yeah, their base of operations was the whole top floor of a worn out old building looking over a big square. They ended up in the really arty/queer part of town full of art galleries and thrift stores.....??
Chapel and Chekov were sent out to those shops to find disguises for everyone. I loved the joke that Chekov was puzzled and slightly alarmed that Christine just knew everyone's clothes sizes and measurements with no explanation. Later on, they ended up getting separated from the rest of the group and getting held up by B story shenanigans, mostly getting lost and running into culture shocks. It was fun to see them having their own adventures and made for a pretty interesting combo. Spock and Uhura spent most of their time with the tech, accidentally listening to the times most popular music while changing frequencies. Jim and Sulu paired off to search for clues, and getting supplies and spent a lot of time talking to the locals setting up for a Pride parade. McCoy, feeling paranoid and irritable that he had practically no equipment, wandered around with Dr Alfred Nahdi, the Botanist, who kept picking random weeds and talking about how extraordinary the little dandelions were. Oh and together they stole a whole medical bag out of an ambulance?? It was pretty funny. Anyway, the main issue was they couldn’t risk leaving the area because all these alien spies had assimilated into the population and they had to track them all down and bring them back with them so as not to disrupt the timeline or something. They had to track down the aliens while making sure the aliens didn't pick up on who they were or that they were also out of place. They ended up being there for around two whole ass months, I think. The spies were spread out all over and there were about 30 of them, but it ended up being the Botanist, Alfred (Alfie) Nahdi who found the enemy base of operations by complete accident. Alfred, who had spent most of the time studying all the common flowers and weeds that were so ordinary at that time but were extinct in their time, figured out where the aliens' base of operations was because the big plant shop at the end of the square had a few succulents that could not have existed in 2024. It was a big "woah" moment. And there was this whole thing where he had to act like he hadn’t just figured it out because the florist, who was almost certainly a spy, was watching him and McCoy. But soon after, it all went to hell anyway when a fight broke out and Sulu was straight up shot with the aliens' weapon that had bullets made from alien metal. So then Bones had to perform old school surgery on him in their HQ, with only 2024 equipment. Jim, Spock, and Uhura were out fighting and ran into Chapel and Chekov and were able to finish them off, but it got really crazy because there was a Pride parade in the square at the same time so they had to make sure no one noticed them. While Bones was pulling bullets out of Sulu, with the botanist assisting him until Chapel (who had been sent by Jim) appeared and took over. McCoy said something like, “Christine, I’ve never been so glad to see you in my life,” and they sewed him up all old school. And it worked out! But Bones was a mess because he had to do messy surgery with none of his kit, and so much pressure, and more blood than he was used to... Chapel stayed with Sulu, and Bones and Nahdi went to sit on the fire escape stairwell and had a sweet scene of Bones just full of adrenaline, his hands couldn't stop shaking. They sat hand in hand for a while listening to all the people on the streets below. Then Spock, Jim, Uhura, and Chekov appeared at the stairwell and they all had a happy, albeit exhausted reunion. After a day of everyone recovering from all the excitement, Uhura and Spock used some extra tech they got from the aliens and finally made contact with poor Scotty who was up on the Enterprise losing the will to live. Anyway, their outfits were iconic tbh.
I invented this whole thing to draw Dr. Leonard “Bones” McCoy in a sweater. I lost control of the situation. I spent a lovely two weeks etching away at this with the support of my lovely ST server, I love you guys. This ones for you.
#star trek#st tos#star trek tos#tos#star trek the original series#james t kirk#jim kirk#spock#bones mccoy#mccoy#dr mccoy#christine chapel#nyota uhura#hikaru sulu#pavel chekov#star trek oc#treksona#leonard mccoy#s'chn t'gai spock#spirk#star trek spirk#star trek fanart#star trek art#medliloveart#Chekovs actor is lithuanian so yeah he's wearing a ukraine pin dont @ me please im tired#pinterest#pinterest outfits
378 notes
·
View notes
Text
The methodology for the Cass review was established by a team from the University of York including Tilly Langdon, who has previously been involved in promoting Gender Exploratory Therapy – an approach which, despite its neutral-sounding name, discourages children from identifying as trans and has been likened to conversion therapy. Her approach included setting a very high bar for evidence to be considered in the review, ruling out 100 of the existing 103 studies into the use of puberty blockers and hormones to treat trans children. The reason given for excluding all these studies was that they did not incorporate a double blind approach – in other words, they did not involve giving puberty blockers to some patients and placebos to others. This might sound like a reasonable objection on the face of it – until one considers that puberty is a dramatic physical and psychological process, and people can easily tell when it’s happening to them, so a double blind simply wouldn’t work in practice. The Cass review called for more research and, again, few would disagree with this. The suggestion that treatment should be withheld in the process, however, is not neutral. It presupposes that the harm done by puberty blockers (demineralisation of bones, which is usually temporary in the short-term treatment recommended and is similar to what occurs in pregnancy) is more severe than the harm done to a trans child by going through the wrong sort of puberty. The latter is linked to high rates of self-harm and suicidal ideation, together with the need, in many cases, for extensive surgical procedures. Confusingly, the review states that children taking puberty blockers showed “no changes in gender dysphoria or body satisfaction”, which suggests that the author didn’t actually understand what puberty blockers do at all. They don’t make children feel better – they just delay a process that makes them feel worse. This is one of several oddities in a report that lacks internal consistency. It states that there is no established definition of social transition, for instance, and does not offer one, but goes on to talk about it as if there were. It also talks about autistic ‘girls’ identifying as trans in increasing numbers, treating this as mysterious and as cause for concern, despite acknowledging elsewhere that more and more girls are being diagnosed as autistic, so one would expect more diagnoses to be present within any subsection of the young female-assigned population. Perhaps the most worrying of the review’s conclusions – which should concern people far beyond the trans community – is the suggestion that as far as NHS treatment is concerned, trans people should be treated as children until they are 25. The rational for this is that 25 is the age when (on average) the brain stops developing. As any neurologist will tell you, the brain is in fact never static, and within ten years or so of that age, it begins to shrink. Deciding who has the capacity to make decisions based on brain age could have unintended consequences for the likes of Cass (64). That aside, what would setting the age of true adulthood at 25 mean for everybody else? If we couldn’t allow people to consent to medical treatment at 24, should we ask them to risk dying for us? If not, then at a stroke we could lose a quarter of our armed forces. Likewise, we would have to give serious thought to what to do about a third of parents who might not be considered competent to look after their newborn children. And then there are issues like contraception. Right-wingers have long contended, on one pretext or another, that teenage girls shouldn’t have the right to take the pill without their parents’ consent. This is where the review’s suggestion starts to look less like a double standard and more like the thin end of a very nasty wedge.
304 notes
·
View notes
Text
antidote | chishiya shuntaro
Summary: A doctor is a lifeline. In the Jack of Hearts game, Chishiya strives to be yours.
yeah, i took the physician reveal and ran with it. i tried to get into his head to portray him as well as i could in writing this and accidentally fell head over heels. let me know if i did him justice? warnings: large helpings of anxiety, chishiya-esque emotional manipulation, though affectionate. mentions of sex, fwb setup, my attempt at sounding medically educated. word count: 2741 requested by: anon (thank you so much for this brilliant idea, i loved getting stuck into it. i don’t write smut, but i hope this still gets you a little riled.) written by: archie support me on ko-fi
It’s human nature to fuck up. He should’ve known to expect it from you.
It was beginning to wear him down, your constant knee bouncing and nail biting since the third hour of this game. All he needed to do was watch. He was wildly curious to see how this would all play out, and he knew he was safe. Knew you were safe.
All things considered, it was a low-risk game: only trust was required, and he’d scored that easily by taking you under his wing. However, The idea of the Jack of Hearts was a poison injected into the bloodstream of the prison’s population. The symptoms of distrust and paranoia would migrate through the ranks, and the masses would spiral and die.
It was a simple game. The key was to not let your protector get infected.
But the symptoms were visibly taking a hold of you. The cafeteria table shook with your anxious tics, the water in your bottle sloshing enough to disrupt his attention on the surrounding cafeteria. He wouldn’t complain though. You weren’t annoying, no, but you could soon put him on edge if he let you spiral like this, and then he’d be infected too.
“Chishiya,” you called softly, clearly nervous to disrupt his spectating.
He didn’t tear his eyes from the scheming girl in the dress. She was particularly interesting in this setting; and by his deductions, not likely to be the Jack. “Hm?”
Your voice came meeker than normal. “What’s my suit again?”
He turned slowly, a brow quirked over a relaxed eye as he finally gave you his attention. “You forgot?”
“No. Just tell me.”
He sighed silently through his nose, calculating your thoughts. To ask this after he’d told you twice already, you must’ve been anxious about one of two things. One, that your addled mind would fool you into speaking the wrong suit. Or two, that you couldn’t trust him.
“Heart,” was all he said.
And you nodded. Your eyes hardened, clearly visualising the shape before your eyes. ‘Heart,’ he could practically see your mind reciting. ‘Heart.’
Or… Was that a calculating look? He flexed his jaw. Were you possibly tallying up the likelihood that he’d lied to you?
He focused on the accidental downturn of his lips. He shouldn’t be double reading you like that - his own intuition was the only concrete thing he had. He’d never been wrong before. He’d kept the both of you alive for this long based on his skill alone, and he’d not let your lives slip away in a measly Jack’s game.
With a slow blink, he made the conscious choice not to chip away at his own trust in himself, as was undeniably the Jack’s aim in this game.
Chishiya’s gaze lowered to where your fingertips danced on the tabletop. A heart shape. Over and over. Frantic, disturbed. You were slipping.
Against his better judgement, he reached out a hand to clasp over your fingers, quietly amused when those sweet, round eyes fixed on his face. You were so scared, so anxious, and the part inside of him that felt for you lit a soft smile on his lips.
You’d never been good at heart games with that anxious disposition, but that was why he’d kept you by his side. You were an easy window into the minds of his surroundings with how easily he could read you. Your distress on the outside showed blatantly the fear of the people in this game. Everyone under the roof would be feeling it. Even the Jack… Especially the Jack.
Chishiya had found you early on in the games-- only the two of you had survived the Six of Hearts. You were entirely integral to his methods of survival that day, so he stole you away to the Beach and was sure to never let you have a game without him. Losing you as the key to his readings would surely damn him someday. Yet somewhere along the line, he grew… fond.
It must’ve been your consistent proximity, he’d reasoned at first. How your constant being around became a sense of ‘normal’ for both he and Kuina, how your raw, unapologetic humanity was a refreshing shift in his life, how you were a brilliant vessel in the games.
He’d protect you, and you’d provide him the opposite perspective as the control in his readings where everyone else was the variable. The perfect symbiotic relationship in this land.
And perhaps that may have been the case. Perhaps that was the foundation for which he felt appreciative of you, the foundation for a so-called friendship. But it didn’t explain how you’d developed into more for him.
His hold on your fingers tightened, gaze fixed on them as he recalled how they’d thread through his hair, night after night. How they’d unzip his hoodie at the Beach. How they’d scramble to tug the sheets over your naked body when a militant barged through the unlockable door to call him into an executive meeting. He couldn’t help the huff of amusement at the thought. Your eyes were as sweet and panicked then as they were now.
But it wasn’t the same. There, you had the safety of the blankets in his room. A sanctuary. Here, you must’ve felt so exposed to the Jack’s poison. Knee bouncing beneath the table and water bottle gripped tight in one hand, what he could swear was a thin sheen of sweat over your skin. You were really losing your nerve, and he needed to be your antidote.
“Follow me,” he murmured, his interest in the room’s population dissipated. With a gentle nod in a moment of reassurance, he let go of your fingers to let you take up your bottle of water and led you from the cafeteria.
His hands burrowed into his pockets as he walked. He took his slow time, sure to register his surroundings in his peripherals even as he gazed straight ahead, effortless as ever.
Your distinct footsteps followed close behind, audibly unsure and glancing around to the others as you tagged along. He knew you had no clue yet. You were playing it blind and suffering for it.
He took you aside into one of the prison’s meeting rooms where once upon a time, a board of directors would’ve gathered. They’d have administered handfuls of men’s fates, and they’d have considered them less than rats. Now this was where Chishiya would administer your own fate, purely because he held you dear.
He opened a palm to gesture to the end of the table. “Take a seat,” he spoke, ever relaxed, and watched you hop up onto the end of the table. It was rickety, chairs kicked and strewn about, the room only lit by the game-master’s searchlights that shone into the windows.
You looked far from comfortable perched up there, the glare lighting half of your face, and he found himself silent. He just looked at you for a moment. How beautiful you were.
He’d noticed many times, of course. The flutter of your lashes as you looked over his features in a fruitless attempt to read his face. Your parted lips channelling the oxygen that fuelled your body, though your lungs delivered it all shaky and uneven. You were stunning to him, even in the worst of times. Even when you were drenched in the crimson of lives you outlived.
But… There was something in this moment. Something about how right now, he was your lifeline. He held that beautiful existence in his hands and this time, he had the power to choose his method of helping. No supervisors to end your life with a swift letter, no list of priority to bump you down. Or at least, you were the priority.
“What is it?” You jerked him from his thoughts, your ankle bouncing once more where it swung below the table. “Chishiya?”
He gifted you a smile, but it didn’t soothe you.
Your eyes narrowed instead. “What are you hiding from me?”
A soft hum of laughter as he took slow, deliberate steps closer until he stood directly before you. A pinkness on your neck caught his eye and his head tipped in curiosity. He reached to slip a finger into your collar, lips pursed in question as he felt the irritated heat of your skin underneath. “Mm? Do you have a latex allergy?”
“Lat-? No.”
He pulled gently on the band at your neck, stepping even closer to peer at the line of irritation from the garment. It wasn’t until he finally removed his hold that he noted the moisture on his finger-- your sweat. The salt must have caught in the material and rubbed you raw, leading to irritation and the slightest blood spots beneath your skin.
“You’ve been pulling at the collar.”
“It’s tighter than when we started.”
Chishiya knew that wasn’t true. His was perfectly fine - comfortable, even - but he didn’t give a thought to argue. Your stress was having physical implications, making everything even worse for you. Anxiety really is a bitch, he mused.
“Water.” He held a hand out to the bottle and you placed it in his palm. His eyes fixed on yours as he opened it up-- and only at this point did he realise quite how close he was.
Your knees put a comfortable, familiar pressure on either side of his hips, his face uncommonly close to yours without the presence of a bed, but he had no intention of moving. He just took the space and owned it, relishing in the slightest hue of red that dusted your cheek, sure to notice it deepen as he raised your chin between his finger and thumb, guiding you to lift your face.
“This will be cold,” was all the warning he gave before trickling the water down your neck.
You hissed and jerked back, likely from the cold or the sting of the freshwater on your salted wounds. “Shit, Chishiya.”
He simply chuckled inwardly, lips hitched in a humoured smirk as he rinsed your skin. He let the little stream of water run across your throat, taking his time to work towards your other ear. His touch on your chin remained delicate as a doctor’s touch, directing you to look the other way for his ease.
This intimacy, he pondered. So rare in the home world. It was one thing to be a physician in a hospital, and another to use basic, opportunistic materials to heal someone who depended on him so wholly. A patient may fight to survive on their own accord, but here, in this game, with you… Everything rode on his word, on his actions. Everything.
A strange magnetism in his chest drew him ever closer to your skin, until his lips soon met the human warmth beneath your ear. It was a slow kiss, tender and deliberate, and he relished in how your body naturally leant into his.
His closed eyes let him hone on the quickened beat of your pulse, the ghost of a thrum against his lips. Your blood pumped the cortisol of your anxiety through the roof, and he remembered his mission to bring it back down, to calm you. He clung to this as a reason to retract from you. If this reaction was from his unsolicited affection, he should know better than to drive your adrenaline too high.
“Don’t touch it anymore,” he prescribed, voice level and cool, giving no hint as to how hard it was to lean back from you. “The irritation will lessen and you can focus more.”
“I don’t know what the hell I’m focusing on,” you spat in a whisper, uncommonly callous with your words despite the pink to your cheeks as you watched him close the bottle cap once more. He’d seen you panic before in many a heart’s game, but not like this, not after his sparing affection. This game really was frying your nerves.
“Focus on keeping your head,” he murmured, the slightest snort slipping out after. “In every sense of the word.”
“Shut the fuck up, Chishiya.”
It was endlessly amusing to see you like this. The fire that came from your lips right now had never been rivalled before, and any regret he’d had at choosing a Heart’s game for you quickly dissipated. Fascinating to see you lose your mind.
But, he couldn’t toy with you too far. He allowed you to hear his chuckle, low and rumbling in his chest, only audible with the proximity he kept. “Sincerely. Focus on staying calm. All you need to do is trust me.”
“Not so easy in a place like this.”
He took the chance to look surprised. This was his opening to seal any of his own concerns about you. “You think I’d feed you the wrong suit?”
He paid careful attention to how you hesitated, watching the thoughts dance their patterns behind your eyes. You were looking at him without seeing him, close enough that he could see his reflection in your irises. Calculations, calculations, ones that you so visibly struggled to work out. Would he dare tell you the wrong suit? Would it be out of choice or pre-emptive, lest you try to end him first, purely because you’d worried?
Moments passed, and the longer it went on, the more his worries tugged at his thoughts. He needed to prove himself to you to save his own skin. Both of your skins.
His hands settled lightly on your lower thighs, set snug on either side of his hips, and he gave a reassuring squeeze. “You don’t need to worry,” he murmured, voice low and soothing as butter on a wound, “We’ll survive this together.”
That endearing little tug between your brows encouraged him on, and he couldn’t help but take your chin in his hold again. To hold that sweet face, so trusting, so impressionable. He watched the hope shine in your features before turning your face the slightest degree, exposing your ear once more, to which he leant in. His breath just tickled your lobe as his nose nudged on your shell, words slow and deliberate. “I know who the Jack is.”
The change in your body language was instant. You jumped back to peer at his face, brows high and eyes wide, no longer slouched and dejected. Your hand gripped at his white jacket, fisted into the fabric to keep him close as you murmured, “Really?”
A slow nod. Relaxed eyes and knowing smirk shone in the searchlight, and he planned his next words carefully. He didn’t want you to know who his suspects were, in case you gave anything away and steered the game from its natural course. “I have two suspects, it’s just down to seeing which fails first.”
The elation in his chest at seeing your relief was disorienting. The way you sighed out with almost a laugh, head thrown back to let it escape you… It was an image he wouldn’t forget for a long time. The serenity of his antidote, saving you from the Jack’s poison.
His brows shot up as you snatched his shoulders into a tight, relieved hold, thighs tight on his waist and arms looped around his neck. Your face pressed into the junction of his shoulder, nestled against his hair. “Thank fuck,” you breathed, edging on tears. “You worked it out? I should’ve known. I should’ve!”
He didn’t say anything, only astounded that you might be so liberal in your affections outside his hotel room. But then, he did bridge that gap first. And there were no regrets. He allowed himself to indulge in it, his own arms finding their home around your waist and his nose in your hair. Of course it was a trick of psychological conditioning, but if he focused just right, he could almost smell the residue of chlorine from the days at the Beach.
He indulged in splaying a hand across your back, rubbing soothing circles over your form. This body… He knew the ins and outs of it. He knew where every mole dotted your skin, he could estimate the length of your lower ribs without flaw. His thumb pressed slow pulses in the flesh between the back of your ribs, imagining that he’d place his stethoscope there.
What a sound he’d hear. Each breath, the source of your survival.
Would it be too arrogant to consider himself such a thing too?
#chishiya x reader#chishiya imagine#shuntaro chishiya x reader#chishiya shuntaro x reader#nijiro murakami x reader#nijiro murakami imagine#alice in borderland imagine#alice in borderland headcanon#aib#chishiya#chishiya shuntaro#nijiro murakami#written by archie
7K notes
·
View notes
Text
Caught 1/3
!Warning!
Fear, angst, pain, cursing, mention of drugs, g/t, graphic story of a crazy giant, mention of fatal vore, a mention of someone being suicidal, ¿gigantophobia?, trauma, bad response dough to fear
Next part:
------------------------
The world was not normal anymore. Everything started 15 years ago afer a yet another global pandemic. Some have passed away, some barely had any changes due to the illness but 1/14 of the population between 1 and 21 became really infected.
You see, it was not a typical disease. Sure, for some it was like a cold but those unfortunate young people who had the right genetic basis for the mutation of the disease were practically cursed. The mutation caused those sick people - depending on a person - either to shrink up to 3-4 inches or grow up to even 60 feet tall.
It took the doctors a few months to find medication to help control the sudden changes of size, but the illness was proven to be incurable. Medication could only help control the size changes slightly better but couldn't fully stop it.
Present time
In this crazy world there was only one thing that wasn't crazy.
"Hunter!" Nate yelled while chasing his best friend. The young boys were friends since they were 8 so now it was a decade of friendship. Their relationship was the only normal thing in the world: no lies, no envy just pure platonic love and..
"Give me back my phone, you psycho!"
Pranks.
"I'm gonna text her" Hunter laughed after unlocking his best friends phone "I'm finally gonna tell Evie that you have a crush on her!"
In a world full of the so called 'size shifters' (they could just call them weriedos in Nates opinion), so basically giants and tinies, having a friend like Hunter was a blessing. Well, at last Nate though that. Hunter didn't have too many friends becouse he wasn't very out going and could come off as cold sometimes but he was surely the sweetest, gentleman ever. Nate on the other hand was the most troublesome kid all middle and high school. He would always ruin something, say something rude to a teacher, skip classes, fail exams..
At last Hunter cared about him. And Nate cared about Hunter as well.
You could practically call them brothers at that point. 10 years of friendship? That sounds like 'forever' is ahead of them. Well.. it was.
This unfortunate day Nate has gotten a 'brilliant' idea: surprise (and scare) Hunter by coming out of his closet (no double meanings) as he returns home from soccer practice.
Everything was going well. Hunters mom bought the lie that Nate was supposed to wait for Hunter in his room and she left the house. Nate didn't have too much time before he heard Hunter opening the front door. He quickly jumped into the closet and closed the door, leaving just a tiny gap, so he could see what was happening on the outside.
The closet was dark, full of clothes and other stuff all around. Those things were nothing special: t-shirts, pants, caps, headphones, medication.. Wait, hold on.
Medication?
"Why does he have pills in there?" Nate though, grabbing the bottle. His mind raced with thoughts. It was too dark for him to figure out what kind of medicine was in the bottle. It was weried. Hunter wasn't sick. Well, at last Nate didn't know anything about that. He didn't have allergies, he didn't have asthma, never even needed pain killers...
"What if those are like drugs?" Nates heart skipped a beat. It would explain why Hunter wouldn't tell him. Maybe he was ashamed that he was an addict?
No, drugs didn't make any sense. Hunter wouldn't have done that. That's something pretty much impossible to happen.
"Maybe he is sick and doesn't wanna tell me because it's terminal"
Now Nate felt like he was going to puke. What if this was something serious? What if Hunter would-?
Just as he was about to create next 2000 scenarios, Hunter entered the room.
"Crap" Nate gasped "I forgot about the prank!"
He wasn't in the mood for pranks anymore. He was supposed to scare Hunter but..
As Hunter sat on his bed, he called Nate out.
"I can see you, dumbass, you know?"
Nate signed and then slowly opened the closets door and stepped out. His best friend didn't seem very surprised.
"You idio-" The boy began to speak, but stoped mid sentence as he saw what was in his friends hands. He got pale. He became completely paralyzed. He was..
Scared?
Nate didn't understand his expression. Surely, he couldn't have scared him. Hunter saw him. He wasn't as sly as normally. So why would he react this way?
He then looked carefully at his best friends expression. Hunters eyes flickered between Nates face and.. the bottle in his hand.
How could he have forgotten about that?
He looked down into his hand. Finally the light hit the white bottle with few simple blue words written on it.
Remedium Gigantismus.
"Heck of a weried name for a pill" Nate thought before he saw the smaller, English words.
A pill to help control morphing into a giant.
His eyes widden and he gasped.
Gigantismus. That means..
"A giant.." he mumbled under his breath. How was it possible he didn't realize earlier? He looked back at Hunter with wide, confused eyes.
Hunter stared at him looking almost terrified.
"Nate.." Hunters voice was a little shaky and he acted with a lot of caution "Let me-"
"Why the hell do you have those pills?" Nate spoke defensively. It felt surreal. Hunter never behaved like that. He never kept secrets. He most surely wouldn't be a fucking monster.
"Bro, I'm sorry, I should have told you sooner" the other boys brown eyes flickered with shame. He took a step into Nates direction but the shorter, blue-eyed one took a step back. Hunter was visibly shocked and hurt by that.
"What..? What the hell do you mean?" Nate still couldn't get that thought into his head. There had to be a different explanation. Hunter was not a freaking beast. He wasn't a man-eater. He wasn't one of those crazy giants that morph into their true size in the middle of a city to crush buildings, murder people and traumatize thoese who remain alive. Hunter wasn't like the one that did that to Nate.
"Nate, I really wanted to tell you. But after the accident in the gallery..." Right.
It all happened 4 years ago. Nate was in an art gallery with his so called girlfriend. She was his first crush. It was a great experience untill.. Unexpectedly one boy, barely older than them morphed into a giant. He crushed the building completely, walls fell down, floors broke into parts, the rooftop fell on top of many people, crushing them. The beast - the giant looked down at all those humans. He had an evil grin and the demonic stare that Nate still had nightmares of. The giant grabbed people like they were toys, bugs, pests even. He didn't hesitate to murder and eat all humans that he could reach. Hell, he even ate the girl that went out with Nate. Nate would forever remember those giant hands, the beasts stare, the blood flowing down his mouth and hands. Nate only survived because he was under a pile of fallen materials and wasn't visible to the monster. Even though he didn't die, he could still hear the delight in the beasts voice as he enjoyed the consumption of people, which made Nate feel dead inside. After the "accident", as everyone else refered to it, he became suicidal, had nightmares about giants almost every night but most importantly began to hate giants with all his heart. Hell, not only giants. All of those freaking weriedos that change their sizes. His therapist couldn't help him. Noone really could. The accident ruined him mentally and that could not be repaired. But Hunter was by his side after that terrifying, traumatizing experience. He was the only one who understood how much Nate hated thoese freaking monsterous giants and was the only one accepting the fact without telling him that "one situation doesn't define the whole species" or other shit people told him. They were murderers. Giants were murderers. Nothing more.
But now.. even Hunter wasn't on his side.
"Tell me it's not what I think it is" Nate almost begged at this point. He was so angry, so confused and so unbelievably terrified "Tell me you're not a monster!!"
Hunters eyes became glossy, his voice was shaky, he didn't want to lose his best friend "Nate, please.. I got infected 6 years ago. I didn't tell anyone but my parents and doctors. I wanted to.. I wanted to tell you but my parents told me it was a bad idea. And later the accident happened.. I didn't want you to hate me. I didn't want you to fear me" he tried to explain as he was slowly breaking down.
Nate felt his heart beat faster, his breath quickened, his hands trembled as he held the bottle firmly, his mind was filled with thoughts, he couldn't control the growing rage.
"Are you a fucking giant?!" Nate yelled at Hunter, visibly furious and panicked, somehow at the same time. He felt like he was going to puke. His head hurt. And his heart? It stung so freaking bad that he thought he was going to have a heart attack.
Hunter stood there, quiet for a secound before nodding. He looked ashamed. Hurt even. He knew he shouldn't have kept this a secret but let's be honest, if he told Nate would they continue being friends? Obviously no. Hunter just didn't want to lose him. He couldn't even bare the thought..
They both kept quiet for a few seconds, the first thing to break the silence was the sound of the bottle falling down onto the floor.
"How could you..?" The blue-eyed began to speak.
"Nate, please, it doesn't have to change anything-" Hunter spoke even though he didn't believe those words himself. His heart was pounding like crazy. He took two more steps into his best friends direction.
"Get away from me you monster!!" Nate snapped as he took a few steps back, visibly frighten by Hunter.
They have been friends for a freaking decade and now Nate was terrified of him.
Hunter broke down. Tears began to fall down his cheeks. He wasn't a monster.
"Please don't call me that" he whispered as he began to sob and cry louder. Just a secound later he ran off the room and out of the house leaving Nate all alone.
The boy collapsed onto the floor, sitting there stunned, shocked and scared. He couldn't understand the situation. It was unbelievable. How didn't he notice? Was Hunter faking their friendship? Would Hunter hurt him?
No, of course not. That was Hunter. His Hunter.
Nate stood back up and took a deep breath. He tried to regain his composure. His body was reacting before his mind was. He knew, deep down, that even if Hunter was a giant, he would never ever hurt him, but the trauma made him react on instinct, without thinking straight. As soon as Hunter was out of sight it was easy for Nate to feel calmer and regain his thoughts.
"How could I have been so cruel to call him a monster? I fucking made him cry" he thought as he stood up. When the fear began to fade away he realized what he had done. His behavior was unforgivable. Hunter was right about not telling him - Nate didn't take that information well. Hunter had every right to keep this to himself for the sake of their friendship.
"I have to fix this" Nate though as he realised he wouldn't loose his best friend like that. Not becouse he called him names. Not becouse of a sickness. Maybe the could find a way to make it work? He would sure as hell try, becouse Hunter was the most important person in his life.
Being truthful Nate doubted that they could still be best buddies. He wouldn't- couldn't be friends with a giant. But he also couldn't think about it now. It wasn't just a giant, it was Hunter. He needed to find him and apologize to him.
He ran after him, trying to find a direction he suspected the boy would choose. He knew his favorite forest spots and that's exactly where he went.
After almost 40 minutes of looking for Hunter, Nate has found him. He was sitting on a tree branch, sobbing. Nate approached him, fear growing back in his body as well as tention, but he wouldn't give up so easily.
"Hey man.." Nate began to speak. The sudden sound must have startled Hunter because he fell down as he turned around to see who was speaking.
Before he could say anything the earth began to shake and he began to grow.
Nate soon remember what he had learned in health class - strong feelings might cause a size-shifter to morph uncontrollably.
Nate looked up with wide eyes as his best friend was transformed into a 60ish foot tall giant beast.
"N-Nate..?" Hunter mumbled uncertainty as he realised he had grown, looking at his now tiny best friend.
Nope.
Nate turned around and began to run as fast as he could. He wouldn't be cought by a giant.
"Wait, Nate, please!!"
-----------------------
Thank you for reading, sorry it took me so long to update, hope you enjoy a new story! 💙💙
#g/t#giant/tiny#gt related#giant tiny#gt community#g/t concept#g/t writing#gt#g/t related#g/t angst#g/t scenario#g/t art#g/t artist#g/t community#g/t idea#g/t fearplay#g/t ocs#g/t sfw#g/t stories#g/t story#g/t writer#g/t fandom#giant men#giant tiny story#g/t vore#giant#giant male#giant and tiny#giant/tiny angst#justme315 stories
85 notes
·
View notes
Note
women have a significantly higher rate of abusing children than men do.
They do not. I have discussed this at length in this post. Relevant portion copied below (see post for sources):
---
No women do not abuse children more.
You said "Women abuse children more", but this is an oft-repeated statement from terribly misinterpreted data.
The misconception comes from data from the child maltreatment report from the HHS [5]. This report looks at reports of child abuse and neglect. In it they found that 52% of victims had a female perpetrator and 47% had a male perpetrator. At first glance, this looks like women abuse more children (hence the wide-spread misinterpretation), however this neglects to take several things into consideration.
First, since about 51% of the population is female, even if we considered nothing else, these values would suggest parity in maltreatment (abuse + neglect) rates. Of course, even this interpretation is deeply flawed, but I thought it merited pointing out.
Second, and perhaps most important, these stats are not looking at incidence or even prevalence rates. This isn't a rate at all. For example, you may be tempted to interpret these as "52% of children in a women's care are abused" or "52% of women abuse children". These are, and I must stress this, completely incorrect interpretations. These stats say only that of child maltreatment (abuse+neglect) victims identified by CPS, 52% of them were maltreated by a women.
Next, these stats fail to take into account the fact that many more women are the primary caretaker of children. According to the American Time Use Survey (ATUS), mothers spend 80% more time caring for children than fathers. This disparity widens even further when you exclude the "entertainment" categories like playing or reading to children (130% increase, or more than double) [6]. This matters because it provides some insight into how rates of abuse would be different. You need to adjust for time spent with children to get a meaningful rate. Another way to look at this is that despite mothers spending almost twice the amount of time around children as fathers, they account for the same number of perpetrators. This alone should tell you that a child is more likely to be safe in the company of a randomly selected woman than a randomly selected man.
In case you still aren't convinced however, the report also clarifies that the perpetrator sex varied widely by maltreatment type. Women were the perpetrator in 58.5% of neglect cases (vs 41%) and 70.5% of medical neglect cases (vs 29%). But men were the perpetrator in 49.5% of physical abuse cases (vs 49%), 89% of sexual abuse cases (vs 8%), and 59% of emotional abuse cases (vs 41%). While no form of child maltreatment is ever acceptable, I hope I don't need to explain how abuse (which "requires an action") is different from neglect (which "occurs from an inaction") and requires different responses.
Speaking of neglect: there is much discourse on how much of the neglect (and medical neglect) registered by CPS is "true neglect" and how much is a result of poverty. This is particularly relevant considering single mothers are much more likely to live in poverty than married couples or single fathers. Examples of this may include: a mother doesn't have enough money to buy food and pay for rent so she and her child eat very little until her next paycheck, a single mother can't miss work without being fired so she sends her sick child to school, a single mother can't pay for child care so she has to choose between leaving her child home alone or having an unfit adult (her own abusive parent? an unsuitable boyfriend?) watch her child. In all of these situations, something absolutely needs to be done to help the child, but it likely isn't the same something as a child who's being beaten or sexually abused by his father.
Other notes on neglect: even the relatively higher proportion of female perpetrators for neglect and medical neglect in this sample are well below parity when adjusted for time spent with the child. It’s also likely that men’s rates of neglect are likely severely under-reported here. Why? Because a neglect case is rarely (if ever) opened for absentee ("deadbeat") dads; it's also unclear how many men with non-primary custody are listed as perpetrators of neglect. (I ask you: if mothers are considered neglectful for failing to intervene on behalf of their child in abusive/neglectful situations, why aren't fathers?)
Other studies on child abuse perpetration (sadly no national reports) show:
Evaluations of child fatalities in Missouri over a 8-year period showed men inflicted 71% of fatal injuries on young children [8]
Evaluations of fatal and nonfatal abusive head trauma over a 12-year period at the Children's Hospital of Denver found 69% of the perpetrators were male (including 74% of the perpetrators of fatal head traumas) [9]
Data from conviction rates and victimization surveys suggest that 4-5% of adult, child sex offenders (as in child sex offenders who are adults) are female, meaning that 95-96% are male [10]
Altogether, this indicates that men are more likely to abuse a child in their care than women. Unsurprisingly, it’s safer for children to be around women than around men.
62 notes
·
View notes
Text
As the male pregnancy "epidemic" spreads across the world, more and more gay couples decide to embrace their fertility and start families of their own.
In Poland specifically, we have seen a great success of the Warsaw's paternity clinic, attracting men from across the country, as well as neighbouring countries, to enjoy the prenatal care brought by gay men for gay men.
The three couples in the pictures decided to embark on a new, exciting journey together.
Katowice, capital of the second biggest metropolitan area in Poland, became the second one to have its own prenatal care facility created specifically for pregnant men and their needs.
The founders of this exciting project were happy to have their pictures taken (not once, but twice! - at the opening day of the project, and two months from the opening date)
Photo #1
First, let us meet the head of operations - prof. Karol Łukaszewski (43) and his husband Wiktor (24). The idea to open the Institute of Paternity came to his head soon after the news of Wiktor's pregnancy. When they went to their first doctor's appointment to confirm the pregnancy, they noticed the need for care focused on the needs of the growing population of pregnant men. The overcrowded waiting rooms in both public hospitals and private clinics, crowded with pregnant men and women fighting for a spot for an appointment, the reluctance of mostly female employees of this branch of medicine to assist pregnant men, stigma and shame towards them due to implications of homosexual activity (it's important to mention the mediane of those workers' age is around 45), as well as lack of knowledge of male-specific implications of pregnancy, and unique challenges were some of the most important factors.
Prof. Łukaszewski first started treating patients from an office in their flat, and soon after gathered resources and crew needed to start a real-life private hospital. Soon after, a contract with the Polish Social Security Fund (NFZ) followed, and the hospital became the spitting image of its Warsovian predecessor.
In the picture, prof. Łukaszewski is getting ready for his first day as the head of the newly opened, fully operational, most technologically advanced hospital focused on paternity and prenatal care for pregnant men. His husband Wiktor, 5 months along with their son at that time, is helping him with the tie he has chosen for his husband for the first day on the job. Wiktor used to be a student of the yung professor at the Silesian School of Medicine. A year after they met, they tied the knot, and soon after, Wiktor noticed some unusual changes within his body - he conceived their first son.
At this point, Wiktor's belly is growing low and outwards - his womb has not yet taken up all the space from the pubic bone to the bottom of his ribs, but the weight of the baby has already pushed his stomach outwards.
Photo #2
Two months later, Wiktor's belly was not the only thing growing rapidly. The number of patients nearly doubled in a month's time. It is estimated that in 2024, in this metropolitan area alone, 10 thousand men will either give birth or get pregnant. There is a lot of work to do, but professor has one pregnancy on his mind constantly - his beloved husband Wiktor is now 7 months along. His belly has grown into a full, round one, from now on he will only be growing outwards, as the growing womb has already filled out all the space left in the whole abdominal cavity, and is reaching high up to the ribs of the pregnant man.
Wiktor and his unborn son are receiving the best possible care, with bi-weekly ultrasounds ensuring the baby is developing correctly. Every inch his belly grows needs to be thoroughly documented for scientific purposes - his pregnancy will be studied during his next semester of medical school!
133 notes
·
View notes
Text
CONFIDENTIAL MEETING TRANSCRIPT
DRC, Medical Ethics & Compliance Division
Date: [REDACTED]
Subject: Above Average Fetal Quotas in Low Compliance Areas
Location: Paternity Compound [REDACTED], Unsecure Conference Room
Attendees:
Dr. [REDACTED], Senior Manager, Insemination Operations
Dr. [REDACTED], Administrator, Compound Oversight
Dr. [REDACTED], Senior Bioethicist
I… I need to voice my concerns again, Doctor. I understand the need for productivity, but these insemination rates already exceed what we know is a risky quota. We're well beyond the original operational guidelines that were put in place by HQ.
Dr. [REDACTED], Administrator
Doctor, we've had this conversation... twice this week already. The DRC's objectives are clear, and compliance rates should be raised. And [REDACTED] City has the lowest surrogacy conscription rates for all of Zone 6, which has the lowest rates for the entire country. With so few surrogates, increasing embryos is the only way to meet our quotas this quarter. I'd love to hear if you've found a way to double conscription rates by just waving your hands.
Dr. [REDACTED], Senior Manager
But... but... the physicality of it, Doctor. These surrogates... men, are not just numbers on a ledger. They're carrying life in multiples beyond the body's capacity, well beyond what our medicine says is natural. We are knowingly creating a dangerous scenario… and for what? Marginal increases in birth quotas?
Dr. [REDACTED], Administrator
While I appreciate your… concern for the surrogates' livelihood, we must remain objective. This isn't a hypothetical situation where we have the luxury of prioritizing ideals over results. We have mandates, strict deadlines, and expectations from the highest levels. The DRC is operating under intense pressure to show progress. We've all seen the latest reports on our population projections. Desperate times, as they say, call for desperate measures.
Dr. [REDACTED], Senior Manager
My concern is ethical, not emotional, Doctor. If I seem… invested, I can't help but think that pushing them to such extremes… to see them filled so… utterly... borders on sadistic indulgence at best. We cannot simply keep filling them up like a fish tank. The latest reports put our average pregnancy quota at 16 births per surrogate, and I know that the quota is higher now. This is too much for them, and their bodies can only hold so much.
Dr. [REDACTED], Administrator
"Borders on indulgence," you say? Interesting choice of words. But you know as well as I do that every additional fetus we bring to term brings us just barely into alignment with the national average. As uncomfortable as you are with their situation, your… fixation on the morality of the situation is, frankly, irrelevant.
Dr. [REDACTED], Senior Manager
It's hardly a fixation, Doctor. It's a… concern for their wellbeing. They're under endless strain, stretching and expanding, filled to their limits with life… and yet, we expect each new batch to endure more. Are we prepared to reduce these surrogates to mere vessels? Some of these men are barely adults, scoped up the moment they've hit the age of majority. And we're pushing them to physical extremes with little regard for the aftermath.
Dr. [REDACTED], Administrator
The aftermath is a healthy generation that will keep this country from falling into the dustbin of history.
Dr. [REDACTED], Senior Manager
Let me put this in concrete terms, Doctor. Consider the case of Surrogate S116-5221-O, who was conscripted at 18 and carrying 15 fetuses not three weeks after his birthday. The strain was so extreme that he required round-the-clock oxygen, feeding, and hydration to maintain his basic stability. His organs were compressed to such an extent that by Day 22, he couldn't breathe without assistance. Is this truly the level of strain we consider acceptable?
Dr. [REDACTED], Administrator
Yes, I recall S116-5221-O. However, as I mentioned, we specifically selected him due to his exceptional physique and vital health metrics. Despite the discomfort, he still brought each of those fetuses to term at a healthy birth weight and helped us meet our targets that quarter—an overall success in our otherwise abysmal quarter.
Dr. [REDACTED], Senior Manager
Success story? Surrogate S116-5221-O was so big we needed a forklift to move him to the birthing wing. And he's not the only one. Surrogate S116-4418-Q was assigned 17 embryos, a record for our unit. By his second week, he was bedridden and needed to be suspended from the ceiling lest his womb crush him. He spent his final days hanging from the rafters, delirious from the strain. Are we to pretend that these outcomes are acceptable, let alone humane?
Dr. [REDACTED], Administrator
Every surrogate conscripted will suffer some potential risks. No one denies the burden they bear, but each successful delivery justifies the process. Their lives, tragically short as they may be, are meaningful in the contributions they make.
Dr. [REDACTED], Senior Manager
Their lives are defined only by our demands, Doctor. We are bending them, breaking them, for output at a volume beyond any semblance of human decency. I can't look at cases like Surrogate S116-4418-Q and rationalize that level of suffering simply because it fits our agenda. This will not end well—morally or operationally.
Dr. [REDACTED], Administrator
Your concerns have been noted, Doctor, but let's keep sight of our objective here. We both know that the alternative. I'm sure they'd appreciate the DRC not enacting martial law or forcing raids on their families. We're weighing one outcome against another, and while it's not ideal, we're dealing with the greater good here. Besides, we're not enforcing this on every surrogate. Only the most robust candidates are selected for high multiples based on their physiological indicators. We're not arbitrarily assigning high embryo counts.
Dr. [REDACTED], Senior Manager
We must consider the limits of the human body, Doctor. And seeing these men in their… altered states, each with bodies so... distended, reminds us of our ethical boundaries. If we push them further, we risk turning this program into a grotesque display rather than a scientifically sound operation.
Dr. [REDACTED], Administrator
Such high ideals for the precarious situation we're in, Doctor. It's time we refocused on the logistics rather than the aesthetics of the problem. I'll take your concerns under advisement. However, we will proceed with the current embryo protocols unless I receive a directive to change course. Besides their surrogates... we have a legal right to do as we see fit to preserve our way of life, even at the expense of theirs.
Dr. [REDACTED], Senior Manager
Legal obligation does not absolve us of ethical responsibility. They are conscripts, but that doesn't mean they are disposable. We must maintain some semblance of humanity in our processes. This notion that quotas justify any means will backfire. It's only a matter of time until public scrutiny catches up, and then we'll be accountable for every life lost under our care.
Dr. [REDACTED], Administrator
Public scrutiny is not my concern. Meeting our birth quotas is. And, respectfully, the stakes are high enough that certain compromises must be made. These surrogates, as tragic as their fates may be, are providing an irreplaceable service to society. Their contribution is paramount.
If we cut back, we will lose ground, and soon, we will be too far behind to make any difference.
Dr. [REDACTED], Senior Manager
Let me be equally clear, then. I will formally request a review of these practices. There is a line, Doctor, and we are perilously close to crossing it. I will be escalating this to the Director's office.
Dr. [REDACTED], Administrator
You're welcome to try. But we'll continue with these measures until instructed otherwise.
[Transcript ends.]
----------------
Memorandum
Following a formal complaint submitted by Dr. [REDACTED], Senior Manager of Insemination Operations, to DRC Headquarters regarding operational protocols and perceived ethical concerns, HQ conducted a preliminary review and determined that no formal investigation was warranted. Dr. [REDACTED] was subsequently placed on probation for insubordination due to his ongoing objections to established protocols. After observation and review by HR, Dr. [REDACTED] has been reassigned to the Anchorage Office, where he will continue supporting DRC’s initiatives under adjusted responsibilities.
In parallel, Dr. [REDACTED], Administrator, Paternity Compound [REDACTED], [REDACTED] City, has been recognized with a personal achievement award. This award acknowledges Dr. [REDACTED]’s dedication to maintaining and exceeding local birth quotas amidst low surrogacy compliance rates. His contributions have been instrumental in stabilizing output levels despite challenges.
End of Memorandum
----------------
Click Here to return to DRC Report Archives
#mpreg#mpreg kink#male pregnancy#mpreg belly#pregnant man#mpreg morph#mpreg caption#mpregbelly#mpregstory#mpreg birth#mpreg art#mpreg story#mpregnancy#ai mpreg#mpreg roleplay#male pregnant#indianmpreg
57 notes
·
View notes
Text
[𝐣𝐞 𝐭'𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞 ⋆ 𝐣𝐞 𝐭'𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞]
or, haku comforts you in his own unique way
pairing: haku kusanagi x f!reader author’s note: first fic in i don’t know how long and my first fic for tokyo debunker, everyone cheers! this fic is quite comical... at least for me lol to be honest this fic was born out of my love for haku, he and his flirting got me sick!!!! i demand more scenes in which haku flirts with mc!!!!!! possible ooc!haku but bear with me pls
english isn't my native language!
Your days at Darkwick Academy were never boring enough, not when every single ghoul and staff member was able to double down your already tiring and tedious workload.
Your days spent running from house to house, from task to task, without even being able to take a small break.
Today wasn’t different from usual. Your day started with helping Kaito with his remedial classes, then you gave Sho a hand with Highway to Home, only to then sprinting towards Jabberwock to stop Towa from striking down an anomalous creature who accidentally hurt Haru, to then team up with Haru to bring Ren back to Jabberwock.
Cue said fugitive yelling about you and that clown not understanding the basic concept of boundaries.
Of course, your day wasn’t even far from being done. Your lunch break was cut short when you received a lovely call from Romeo, and between all the acronyms he yelled, you only understood that BTH, aka Sinostra’s famous troublemaker captain, was up to no good.
You had just a minute to say goodbye to the delicious food Sho gave you, unceremoniously left on the table half-finished.
And there you were, sprinting towards Sinostra to avoid explaining to the Chancellor how in the hell the Darkiwick Academy population decreased in a few minutes. And why it was always Sinostra’s fault.
Not even the time to breathe, that you found yourself on Jiro’s shoulder as he and Yuri, who didn’t forget to remind you that he was a busy man, and he didn’t have time to play hide and seek with you, went straight to Mortkraken for your daily medical visit. Your fault? Forgetting about said medical visit.
At least you were able to relax a bit, until your phone rang up for the nth time, and it was Frostheim captain’s turn to call for your help, or in other words, giving you some tedious task he considered boring.
Great, you were not done yet.
Maybe it was time to create a trade union with the cats and demand less work hours…
You were done for the day, at least until your phone rang up once more.
Sitting on a bench with your eyes closed, your body relaxed under the gentle breeze of the night, a sigh of relief left your lips, you survived another hellish day, at least it wasn’t as bad as others. Luckily this time, you didn’t have to run and miss Romeo’s bullets as he tried to hunt you and Kaito down, all because the blonde still hasn’t paid his debt.
Tired and hungry, you groaned, your eyes opening to find the moon, half-moon to be more precise, shining all alone, as no stars were around.
You and that moon were so similar; the moon shining all alone in the dark night, and you alone in an academy full of ghouls and trying to find a cure to your curse.
Suddenly you felt the presence of someone, and before you could realize what was happening, a bag was dropped on your lap.
“There you are, [Name].” A familiar voice said, a so gentle one compared to the ones you were used to, and you realized who the voice belonged to. It was Haku.
“Why so surprised? You weren’t expecting me, how cruel~” He joked as he sat down next to me.
“Haku-san! Why are you here? Is everything alright at Hotarubi? Ther-” Haku stopped before you could say more.
A light frown adorned his face, as his finger was gently silencing your rambling, before with his other hand gently flicked your forehead.
“You worry too much about the others. You should learn to focus first on yourself and then take care of us. We may look helpless to you, but we aren’t.” He scolded you, his expression still serious.
You whined a little, your fingers massaging your forehead. It was the second time that Haku flicked your forehead, it seemed his favourite scolding method.
“I am… I am sorry.” You murmured “I will focus more on my well-being…”
He nodded before he pointed to the bag on your lap. “I brought you some food, with all that running you did today, I am sure you’re more than hungry. I bought everything from that first-year’s truck. The one from Vagastrom.”
Your eyes shined brightly after opening the bag, Sho’s food was a fricking God’s gift after a long and tiring day.
“W-What!? Thank you so much, Haku-san!” You grinned as you happily ate your dinner. Haku, on the other hand, just chuckled at your grin.
You were so hungry that in a flash, the once full of food bag was now empty. As per usual, the food Sho cooked was delicious.
“Thank you again for the food, Haku-san. “ You thanked him sincerely, a shy smile on your lips, you always felt in debt with him, he was always there whenever you need him. Even the small gesture of buying your dinner, that for many would be seen as something small, for you was a silent message, a gesture meaning he was always there to give you a hand when you were feeling down or in need of help.
Pushing a strand of your hair aside, you turned towards him, smiling shyly. His presence was charming enough that even a simple smile from him, was enough to fluster you.
“Haku-san… Sometimes I think you like spoiling me, you’re always with me when I am in troubles. You always lend me your shoulders, and you always hear me out. I don’t know how to thank you enough. I am so glad to have you by my side.” You confessed, your eyes now on your lap, trying to hide your flushed expression.
A pregnant silence fell, you slowly realized that your words might sound like a confession of a sort. Panic flew in your body as you furiously tried to explain yourself, and embarrassment blossomed on your face.
“H-Haku-san, i-it’s not like that! I-I didn’t mean to… I mean… I didn’t wan-” He just chuckled, shaking his head, his fingers running through his hair as he looked at your flustered reaction.
“You’re something else, [Name].” He snickered “Spoiling you…” He muttered, before a sly smile unfolded on his lips.
“You know… “ He began “I don’t mind spoiling you, and if you really feel guilty you can always marry me. Then you won’t worry about being spoiled.”
Oh my god…
Oh my god…
You were sure now you were blushing like crazy, how could he say something like that with that nonchalance?!
“H-H-Haku-san!” You whined out, jumping on your feet, your heart pounding furiously, almost leaping out your rib cage.
The Hotarubi vice-captain maybe took pity of your flustered state, as he got up too, his hand ruffling your hair.
“Take your time, my offer is always up~” He teased, winking.
You prayed that God took mercy of you and made you disappear immediately.
“C’mon princess, don’t stay there, I will escort back you to the chapel. And on our way back, you can always think about my offer~”
He was going to be your death, in one way or in the other.
126 notes
·
View notes