#ftm support groups

[feckcops]

Tech bros are now obsessed with testosterone parties

“T Party was launched this past Pride month by Jeff Tang, a startup founder who recently worked on the open-source note-taking app Athens Research. Since then, Tang has hosted a number of ‘T Parties’ during which men gather to discuss their health and test their testosterone levels.

“The tech bro obsession with testosterone is no new phenomenon: As a feature published earlier this month by The Information details, testosterone replacement therapy (TRT) startups have been enjoying a boom since the U.S. Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA) relaxed its rules for prescribing controlled substances in 2020. Cis dude celebrities across the political and cultural spectrum — from Dax Shepard to Joe Rogan — have all sung the praises of TRT ...

“The T Parties themselves also sound weirdly wholesome, if a little deranged. According to The Information, topics of discussion at a recent San Francisco T Party included ‘where to buy the most efficacious supplements, why there’s no OB-GYN for men, why sperm counts are down globally, the difficulty of getting testosterone bloodwork, and how talking to hot people has been shown to be a T booster.’ Minus the sperm counts (and maybe the supplements), that easily sounds like any given conversation in a group of transmasculine individuals ...

“There is something darkly ironic about tech bros destroying San Francisco — a historic hub of American trans culture and activism — while inadvertently recreating the FTM support groups that originated in the city in the '80s. And I have to note the conspicuous lack of moral outrage over cis dudes taking T. When transmasculine people take testosterone to affirm their gender, conservative politicians panic; when cis tech bros do it for essentially the same reason, very few people bat an eye.”

[pillcaddyfullofbees]

More Giddy Gleeful content for the Giddy enjoyers that I’m delighted exist :3

With Pacifica redeemed and befriended we need a new Regina George type in gravity falls so here she is!

Silly headcannons in the tags:

[shotgunwedding-inhell]

"my existence is proof that cis approval is bullshit" i say, rocking back and forth while cursing kalvin garrah's name.

[tiredf-o-u-r]

Should I mrs doubtfire my actual real life?

I also don’t know how to change my name on the website so my birthname WILL also be everywhere ✨

[reallyromealone]

Title: sleep overs

Fandom: DC

Characters: Young justice, Bruce, Jason, dick

Fic type: fluff

Pairings: Bruce x reader, Connor x dick

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, trans reader, ftm reader, pregnant reader, baby Jason, tween dick

Notes: fucking with the timeline and doing what I feel for the sake of plot

Summary: Young justice gets to have a sleepover at Wayne manor and Connor finds out something

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

(Name) Watched as the young justice league came in with sleeping bags and night bags and wandering into the livingroom, the tweens excited to have a night of movies and games "my aunty sent me with this for you, she says thanks for the date night!" Wally said happily and (name) chuckled but accepted the brownies, he and Bruce would be enjoying these upstairs and of course leaving some for Alfred.

"There's pizza and drinks in the dining room" (name) said kindly, knowing if that boy was anything like his uncle that the amount they bought would barely be enough, that being ten large pizzas for the group of them. Jason waved in Bruce's arms as everyone piled into the livingroom "I always forget how rich you are" Connor whistled at the huge tv "there's also snacks in the kitchen if anyone isn't feeling for pizza and such" (name) said and Jason wiggled out of his dad's hold, the 1/12 year old wanting to see these new people and specifically his big brother who was chatting with M'gaan and Kaldur'ahm about whatever it is.

"Didi!" Jason yelled excitedly and dick grinned at his brother "whats up, little man?" Dick let the boy crawl into his lap, the boy looking at M'gaan and began babbling and making sounds "well I think you have a very cool stuffed animal too" she said honestly and dick looked confused "I read his mind, he wanted to inform me about how he has a stuffed toucan named toukie and it's not real and it's his best friend"

"Jason, come on sweety it's time for your night snack!" Jason heard (name)s voice and abandoned the group, stumbling and using his brother's friends as support to get to his parents, Artemis chuckling when the babe held onto her for a second to stable himself.

The parents left the kids alone, planning to check on them after they get Jason to bed "now, do you want some milk or do you want apple juice?" Heavily heavily watered down apple juice but apple juice none the less, Bruce settling Jason on the counter and kissing his tiny socked feet to make him laugh while (name) grabbed the bedtime snack "mooooo!" Jason yelled while the other grabbed soft baby snacks and a filled bottle of milk "good job!" Jason grabbed it on his own and took a drink "we have like ten kids in our house" (name) said softly while watching Jason enjoy himself "why did we agree to this again?" Bruce asked cuddling his husband and (name) smiled "because you love your son"

"I do love him"

Jason let out a soft burp and looked at (name) with raised arms "let's go get you ready buddy, we're gonna have our own movie night!" He cheered and Bruce led them off to (name) and Bruce's room, Bruce pulling the boys pacifier from his pants pocket and popped it in his mouth. Changing the boy into his pajamas, the two listening to the tweens giggling and having fun downstairs "when you're bigger, you can have sleepovers too" (name) said to the boy who was already getting sleepy, all he needed was a nice cartoon to fall asleep.

"Why don't you two get comfortable and I'll go grab our stuff" that stuff being the wine and a few slices of pizza, Bruce saluting (name) off jokingly while letting his babe rest in his shirtless chest, knowing the contact soothed the boy. (Name) Went to the kitchen and grabbed the wine, listening to the loud giggles and games and thankful he got Alfred those noise cancelling headphones, wanting the man to get a such sleep as he could. It was nice seeing his son have so many friends, they were playing that racing game Dick was so obsessed with from what it sounded like "oh, hi Connor" (name) said softly to the teen, Connor always appreciated now gentle (name) was with him and took the time to talk with him."how's the farm? How's Clark these days? Are you doing good in school?" He asked and Connor smiled sheepishly "farms good, dad recently adopted a new livestock dog we named lady" he said taking a sip from his soda and (name) listened with rapt attention"Clarks good, him and Lo wanna take me to Disney this year for my birthday"

"Oh you will love that, how's school?"

"It's fine, I hate matb but everything else is pretty good"

"Well I'm glad you're going well..." (Name) Doted a bit and Connor smiled, (name) was like a second parent to him, the man fought tooth and nail and even went as far as to go to the Kent house with all the things he could need to help the Kent's ease caring for another child, Mrs. Kent chuckled at the others caring nature.

"And what's this I hear from the grape vine of you dating my son?"

"You know about that?" Connor said meekly and (name) chuckled "I know everything, if he ever acts like an ass you tell me"

"Of course sir, also congrats on the pregnancy!" He pointed to (name)s stomach "whatcha.... Whatcha mean there"

"I hear th heartbeat.... Oh wait... You didn't know did you?" Connor said softly and (name) let out a nervous chuckle "nope but thank you, saves a trip to the doctor" he pinched the tweens cheek and put the wine away "now go hang out with the tests, it's a sleepover for you all"

Connor left promptly and not without hugging the man who chuckled "thank you Connor"

When (name) returned to the bedroom and Jason was already in his nursery asleep, Bruce's ability to put these kids to sleep was truly magic "where's the wine?" Bruce asked while (name) crawled into bed "your dick is too powerful" he grumbled, pulling off his binder and Bruce raised an eyebrow "want to elaborate?"

"Get ready for baby three, daddy" (name) said simply and Bruce froze "another one?"

"Yup, we really need to start using condoms" (name) pat the others shoulder "good news, for the next nine months I can't get double pregnant!"

"Why are you like this?"

"You chose to marry me"

"And I haven't regretted it once"

(Name) Kissed him lovingly and opened his arms, letting Bruce be little spoon and snuggle (name)s chest "I checked the kids, Kal will narc on them if they do things they shouldn't" (name) kissed Bruce's forehead and the two put on a show, recently they got into fishing shows.

"I love you..."

"I love you too pretty boy"

[gatorbites-imagines]

I have a prompt idea, Trans reader (ftm) in the 1940s being bullied, steve and bucky find reader and help him, start to friends to poly lovers (steve x bucky x reader), fluff with a little angst and soft smut, just an idea

Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x FTM reader

Headcanons

I don’t actually know a whole lot about the era for trans people, especially in Brooklyn during those years. So, I’m just writing on a feeling and adding what feels right. Have I ever mentioned that pre-serum Steve is one of my favorites?

Writing this actually reminded me of something I wrote forever ago, called party of one, two, three? You can read part 1 and 2 here, if you are interested. I wasn’t really in the mood to write detailed smut, so.

Being a trans guy in the 30s and 40s wasn’t easy, but was anything during that time? Depending on where you were from and when you came out, you might have had the chance to live as a man.

If let’s say you moved to Brooklyn when you were old enough to know that you were a man, and you had always presented as such, then you might have been able to get a job, and if you knew the right people, fake documents.

If you had always lived in Brooklyn, then it was a lot harder, as most just assumed you were a lady who dressed like a lad because you didn’t want to “do your duty” as a woman, or whatever they had on their minds.

Either way, Steve and Bucky were some of the few people who supported you no matter what, if they only knew you as a man, or if you guys had grown up together. If you fit in Steves clothes you could borrow his, and if Steve was too small, well, then bucky had a closet with clothes too.

Being picked on was hard to avoid, in either situation. The first would be because you were such a small, scrawny and feminine guy. The second because you were a lady that needed to be put in her place.

The second was always more dangerous. The first, theyd just rough you up a bit and taunt you a little, but it always ended up as more of a “haha we are just taking the piss”. The second? It felt like the men who cornered you had something to prove, to you or themselves you didn’t know. But they wanted to prove that they could “fix” or “correct” you.

Living in Brooklyn and being a weirdo like you meant you knew how to fight, somewhat at least. Enough to not go down without a fight. But no matter how much you practiced, keeping up with multiple fully grown men was difficult.

If you already knew Steve and Bucky or not, the two would step in when they saw this. Steve first, being the righteous guy he is, would run in swinging. Scrawny arms and wheezing breaths, eyes burning with the fury of a thousand suns, the blonde so incredibly enraged at the very idea of someone treating another person this way.

Steve never lasted long though, but luckily Bucky was never far behind. In the end, Steve always looked as beat up as you, and maybe it was because he bruised and bled so easily with how sick he was.

Steve struggling to his feet and holding out a hand to pull you up, eyes still sparkling and teeth bloody as he grinned, was enough to make your heart race.

Bucky at least didn’t look like he was the main victim of your group of attackers. He was a bit ruffled up, sure, but he still looked mostly put together.

It should shock no one that Bucky easily led you and Steve back to his and Steves apartment, where Bucky got to work patching you both up as they made you talk about the guys who did it, and why. Steve because he wanted to go back out there and smack them straight, and Bucky to be on the safer side.

Be it the first or twentieth time they save you from your so-called bullies, Steve and Bucky stayed just as intense and caring. Even when they didn’t have a lot, or Steve was sick, you always felt like you belonged and was as much of a man as them.

When you three started dating it got a little easier. Everyone already knew that Steve Rogers as built like a twig, but would swing until there was blood if he needed too. He was snarling, snapping and as feral as those starving alley dogs. He was as protective as one too, not just of you but Bucky too.

Bucky wasn’t much better, though he hid it more successfully. Everyone thought that Barnes was the charming, sweet talker, who liked to talk it out without fighting. But they were wrong, when it came to you and Steve, Buck could be worse than Steve.

Both your fellas were protective and possessive in their own ways, but you couldn’t say you didn’t feel the same. You wanted to drown the men who antagonized Steve for his height and sickness in the piers. And jealousy reared its hideous head when the pretty ladies fluttered their lashes at Bucky whenever he passed.

The three of you were all a mess, but you were each other’s mess. You and Bucky never saw Steve was just his disease and lack of stature. Steve and you never just saw Bucky as his handsome face and face charm. And they never saw you as a lady, you were as much of a man as them.

The only time it ever became a challenge, your biology being different, was when you guys got intimate. But it was never made a huge problem. There were days when Steve couldn’t get it up because of his health, or where he could even participate because of his lungs. And there were days when you didn’t want to be touched because your body made you sick. You guys just found ways to make it work.

Sometimes you and Steve would just sit back on a chair each, one you’d dragged in from the kitchen, to watch Bucky pleasure himself and show off in bed. It was like your own litter theater, and Bucky really loved to be watched and praised by you two.

Sometimes it was Steve lying in bed carefully touching himself, at times it was just him caressing his own torso and telling you two all his wildest fantasies, his face and chest bright red from his flush.

And there were even times when it was you, when dysphoria wasn’t swallowing you whole and howling that your body was wrong. You never looked at yourself when you would be with them, but having two men with their own naked bodies made it harder to focus on your own.

Some days you would imagine that their body was yours, and the dysphoria wouldn’t be so bad. It also helped that Steve didn’t grow as much body hair as Buck, meaning Steve was almost as naturally hairy as you. Part of you just basked in the fact that one of your partners looked like you in that way.

The days you were fine with touch, Steve and Bucky never let it go to waste. You couldn’t fuck them like you three all wanted, they didn’t really have toys like that at the time, or at least accessible to you three. This just meant you guys had to get creative.

God gave humans hands and fingers for a reason, and you all had mouths. You always wore so many layers anyways, so the many hickeys your lovers left on you were easily hidden. The chest was always off the table though, and neither of the men complained.

Bucky was the best at praise, so naturally gifted that Steve would joke that he should become some pulp writer, that he should write those cheap sappy romance novels the ladies liked.

This didn’t mean that Steve wouldn’t praise you and Buck, he did, just in his own ways. The blonde always struggled with forming the right words and getting them out, but his sketchbook filled with pages and paged of you and Buck was all the praise you needed.

They would be good partners. Neither have a label for what you guys are, or what their sexualities are, they just know you three love each other, and that’s all that matters.

[river13245]

Anniversary Present

Navigation / Main Masterlist / TWD Masterlist

Word count: 3k

Warnings : virgin reader!, Smut, and two people being in love

Author note: This was made with a FTM reader in mind but GN! reader is also great too! This is my first time ever writing smut cause im just getting comfortable with doing it. So go easy on my loves. (not proof read yet)

--------------

Daryl Dixon was a man of very few words. He wasn't very vocal about things unless he was pissed then its the most you would ever hear that man speak. It never bothered you because you talked enough for the both of you.

However despite the fact he didn't talk much. You knew exactly what he was thinking, and how he was thinking. He would become stiff and cross his arms when he's pissed. Make a little face when he was deep in thought. When he was happy he would have this smile that made your heart ache. Daryl was the most beautiful man you had ever seen.

Not many people understood him, or took the time too. Daryl kept his circle of friends small and sometimes had a hard time with making them feel appreciated but he did it in small ways. He would watch Carl and hold Judith, Make sure that Carol was always safe whenever she came back from somewhere.

Then when it came to you he would always keep you close. He wouldn't be super touchy in front of everyone. Usually keeping that in private, however he would hold your hand when you two went hunting together. Or kiss the top of your head before having to separate from you for a bit. He loves a good hug too, whenever you would come back from a trip the two of you would automatically go to each other. No matter how bloody or dirty you were, it never seemed to bother him.

Daryl was a good boyfriend, a great one. In fact in the beginning of your relationship. You had told him you didn't want sex, it was just something you had never felt for someone before. He was so supportive and said that he himself didn't feel the need to do it alot. So he had never pressured you into anything. Always making sure you felt loved in other ways.

Its been almost a year into the relationship now. Your anniversary is coming up and you had been wanting to take the relationship to the next level. You had never felt this attracted or loved by someone in your entire life and for the first time in your life. You wanted to have sex with your boyfriend.

The easy thing was accepting the fact that you were ready, the hard part was getting Daryl into realizing that. Without coming right out and saying it. So you decided the week leading up to your anniversary you would tease him a bit and throw hints his way and if he didnt pick up on them. Then on your anniversary you would be bold and tell him.

------

Throughout the week you had touched him more than you normally did. The two of you had been attending this group gathering and instead of just holding his hand your hand rested on his arm. Then when you had to leave him you grabbed ahold of his tie and pulled him into a kiss before slowly pulling away from him to go and talk to Maggie who needed your assistance. You left him there as he blushed and had to recollect his thoughts while Rick chuckled.

You even went as far as to make plans with him. He would teach you how to use a bow and arrow. So when he was behind you helping you with your stance, you moved your body right up against his. The only reaction you got from him was a sharp inhale of breath and his hand that was on your waist tightened. "keep your body still and focus on your target" he said as calmly as he could manage.

After about a week of this it was finally your anniversary. He had not caught on to what you wanted. Just thinking you were teasing him and joking around, never really taking you serious enough. Carol had even teased him about it and to which he just told her to shut up with a roll of his eyes.

He was always respectful of you, not wanting to do anything our of your comfort zone so he didn't try to pursue you in that way. However tonight you had a special gift for him.

When you woke up this morning Daryl had been gone. At first you thought he was downstairs but when you seen his boots by the door and crossbow were gone, you knew he was out hunting or on a quick run. So it gave you time to fully plan out exactly what you were going to do.

Walking back into your bedroom you go to your dresser and decide on an outfit to wear. Deciding to wear a button down dark green shirt that showed off your toned arms and black pants that would pair well with your shirt. Then when you finish getting ready you grab a box from under your bed and open it. Revealing a book you had found on one of your own solo trips, one that you were going to gift your boyfriend when you two have your date tonight.

You put the box away and spend most of your day cleaning up the house. Then making his favorite dinner and setting the table, leaving a few candles lit around the house.

By the time everything was ready you heard heavy steps in front of the door and your boyfriend walks in. You look over at him as you take a sip of your water. He turns and looks around seeing the house had been nicely decorated and a smile forms on his face before turning to look at you.

When he looks at you your eyes meet and you swear your legs turn to jello. "Happy one year Daryl" you say and he quickly takes off his boots and opens up his bag. He then pulls out bracelet and a stuffed animal that was an otter. "one year down. Many more to come" He says and you walk up to him taking the gifts in your hands and leaning up and kissing his lips. "Is this were you went? To find something for me?" Daryl nods "I couldn't come empty handed, Carol would have yelled at me" This causes the both of you to laugh.

"thank you" You look over to the table before going up to your room. "sit down and get comfortable. Ill give you your gift after" He does exactly that and waits for you to come down and sit in front of him before starting to eat. As the two of you eat there's a comfortable silence, you two never really talked while sharing a meal. Didn't bother you because you loved the time shared with him.

Once the meal was finished he takes a sip of his drink and looks over at you. "this was very good, thank you" He says as he gets up and begins to clean up everything. "I'm glad I have enough cooking skill to not burn the place down" you joke as you get up and walk over to him in the kitchen. When the two of you finish cleaning up everything you place your hand on his arm "come to the bedroom with me. You need to recieve your gifts"

He nods and walks after you until you get to the room. When you get over to the bed he stands and runs his hand through his hair pushing it back a bit our of nervousness. He wasn't exactly used to receiving gifts but if it came from you, he would make an exception. You grab the box from under your bed and place it on top of the bed. "Damn y/n what you got in there?" he jokes a little and you laugh "just a few things. You will see soon enough"

Daryl stands and when you reach for the book you turn to look at him. "shut your eyes" He looks at you with an -are you kidding- kinda look and when you nod his eyes close. Then you grab the book and walk up to him. You grab his hands and place it on the book and then watch as he opens his eyes.

When he notices its a book he is confused for a moment before flipping it around and reading the title. His hands start to shake a bit and looks up at you with a heartfelt smile. "where did you find this?" he asks as he runs his finger against the spine of the book. This causes you to look into his eyes again "That solo trip I took that ended up being almost two weeks long. I found it and remembered you saying your mom used to read it to you when you were young. You deserve something that reminds you of the good parts of your past"

Instead of a response he places the book on the bedside table. Then places one of his hands on your waist and pulls you into a kiss. Your arms wrap around his shoulders pulling him against you. His rough chapped lips pressed up against your softer ones felt amazing. Your hands move to his hair and when he pulls away his forehead rests against yours. "thank you for the gift" there's a silence for a moment before he places his other hand on the side of your face and look down at you. "I love you"

Those three words made your heart race. Of course you both have said it before but its not as often as you would think. "i love you too" you say before kissing his cheek. Then when you pull back and look at him, your hand going to push his hair away from his face. "I have another gift for you. One that i'm nervous about but I hope you will like"

Daryl looks confused "Im sure I will like it, why are you nervous?" His voice is quiet as if he didnt want you to be startled. You take a deep breath and bring your hand to rest against his chest. "I want to make love to you" you say as you look up into his eyes. His reaction is delayed because it didn't register in his mind but when it does he places both hands on your waist. "you sure?" You nod and kiss his lips "just go slow and gentle with me. Its my first time and im a bit nervous"

His hand goes to the back of your head and kisses your lips and then they travel to your jaw. "I wouldn't hurt ya" he says and you bring your hands to the bottom of his shirt and begin to lift his shirt up off him. His arms lifting up and then tossing his shirt to the side somewhere in the room. Then his hands begin to unbutton your shirt slowly before tossing your shirt somewhere. He begins to kiss your neck before pushing you back to the bed. Your knees hit the bed and you sit in front of him.

He looks down at you for a moment before grabbing your jaw and tilting your face up to kiss you. When he pulls away he gets on his knees in front of you. "lay back gotta get these pants off ya" a blush forms on your face but you nod. Your back lays on the soft mattress and he begins to unbutton your pants and you lift your hips so he can slide them off. Once you were fully exposed in front of him he grabs your legs and spreads them. "are you sure you want to do this?" you ask him in a quiet voice and he looks at you. "course I do. Why wouldnt I?"

It takes a moment for you to respond "well I know some guys prefer not to do it. You know..I just didn't want you to feel like you needed to do it" He squeezes your thighs and shakes his head. "you are beautiful. I want to do this for you, let me take care of ya alright?" You nod and he holds your legs apart as he presses his lips to your inner thighs.

Its like he's teasing you because he's pressing his lips everywhere. Except where you need him, your breath is already heavier from the growing feeling of want for him. "Daryl...please" you whimper out and he brings his lips around your clit and suck for a moment before licking up between your lips. Your body squirms a bit before he begins to please you with his tongue.

Moans escape from you as your head tilts back against the mattress and your hands go to the back of his head and pull his hair gently. This earns you a grunt from him as his eyes shut. "fuck Daryl" you moan out. When he pulls his mouth away a whine escapes you and you blush from how needy you sound. But its soon replaced by one of his fingers pushing into you. It slides in pretty comfortably from how wet you are and a moan escapes you. He lets you get used to the feeling of his thick finger inside of you before adding another and brings his mouth back to your clit.

Your back arches from the bed at the feeling. Your hands grip onto the sheets under you. This feeling was nothing you had ever felt before, of course you had touched yourself before but it had never felt like this. He picks up the pace once you begin to move your body and when you feel a tightness in your body your eyes squeeze shut. "fuck im going to cum" he groans against your clit and it sends a vibration through you and that's all it took for you to come undone.

When you cum he licks up everything that he can and even brings his fingers up to his mouth and sucks your juices from his fingers and as you watch him do this. It turns you on even more and you lean up and pull him on top of you into a kiss. A grunt if heard from him as he kisses you.

It doesn't take long before his pants are off him and hes naked on top of you. The size of him catches you off guard, of course you knew the man wasn't going to be small but its thick and you honestly wonder if its going to fit. He catches you staring and he grabs your hand and kisses it "If you want this. I promise to go slow, just tell me if you need me to stop at any time and ill stop"

He was always wanting to take care of you and you lean up to kiss him. "i will, all I know right now is I need you" a blush forms on his face as he nods and brings his hands to your legs and spreads them apart. When he lines his dick up to you his eyes meet yours "breathe and relax for me hun" You nod and take a few breaths and when he begins to move into you its a slow movement but you feel the way you stretch around him. Your eyes squeeze shut as you let out a moan. Daryl's hands roam up and down your legs. "its okay, ive got ya, i'm right ere"

When your body gets used to the feeling of him you reach up to pull him into another kiss. Your legs wrapping around his waist "move please." At your words he pulls out and then thrusts into you, moans now leaving both of you. "fuck you're so tight" he says as he thrusts into you. Your back arching from the bed as Daryl kisses your chest, his lips sucking and teeth biting you gently. "fuck Daryl you feel so good. Please don't stop" Your body begins to move in time to his thrusts which makes the both of you go at a faster pace.

The room is filled with the sounds of your bodies colliding, your loud moans. You were glad that you had a house further away from anyone's or you were sure the two of you would have been heard. His hands stayed on your hips and thighs unless he brought his thumb to circle your clit. and when he did that your eyes squeezed shut at the added pleasure. "Daryl..fuck....not gonna last much longer" He doesn't stop his movements and instead goes faster.

It doesn't take much longer than that before you cum. Your cum coats his dick and when you tilt your head back he thrusts only a few more times before he pulls out and he cums all over your stomach. He then lays beside you his body collapsing onto the bed as he catches his breath.

You reach for his hand and squeeze it as your eyes close. You only open them when you feel him get up from the bed. "where you going?" you thought he was leaving but he wasn't. "i'm going to take care of you." he goes to the bathroom and gets a washcloth wet before coming back over to you and cleaning you up. He is so gentle with you the whole time and when he is finished he lays beside you and you pull him against you. His head rests on your chest, your fingers running through his hair.

A soft laugh escapes you and he squeezes your hip. "what's so funny?" he asks as you continue to touch him. "Just thinking about how vocal and loud you were. Its probably the loudest i've ever heard you" A blush forms on his face and he rolls his eyes. "yeah yeah, enjoy it cause yer the only one that gets to hear me like that"

This causes you to kiss the top of his head. "mhm I like the sound of that. I love you and thank you for doing this with me" He hovers on top of you and kisses your lips. "thank you for trusting me enough to be the one that got to do this with you. I love you too"

That night the both of you fell asleep on top of one another. Only waking up when Carol started banging on the door. Telling you to get up for patrol with her. She ended up seeing the marks on your neck and when she made a comment Daryl stayed quiet with a small blush. it caused you to laugh.

[genderkoolaid]

I really respect Jules Giles-Peterson, her work is great, and she's pretty good at consciously trying to avoid casual anti-transmasculinity from what I've seen. But I do really wish she could talk about transmasculine history with the same depth she talks about transfem history. Not because she should HAVE to– I have no issue with her focusing mostly on what she knows best. But every time she brings up transmasc history I'm like!!!! if this is a topic you want to bring up there's SO much more you can be saying here.

I just read this article by her:

And I think it's in general good! I was really happy to see a well known transfem scholar writing something on this topic, since so many people seem to have blinders on when it comes to the very obvious intersection of trans and abortion issues.

Additionally, she uses this as an opportunity to talk about transfem/transmasc community and the support networks between us, which is lovely. She illustrates not only the connection between trans people and abortion but also how that has been an opportunity for collaboration and shared resistance.

However... it feels to me like there's weirdly little focus on transmascs in this article about trans abortions? It feels like more time is spent rehashing the "trans men went stealth and moved away, trans women formed communities in the cities" model rather than exploring the relationship trans people have had to their abortions throughout history. She acknowledges that the chance to achieve that ideal "cis passing married successful straight man" life was slim, but then she doesn't explore what possible experiences OUTSIDE of that slim chance where like.

And I fully acknowledge that it's hard to talk about a lot of transmasc history because so little has been recorded. But that doesn't mean nothing has. While not technically related to abortion, I feel like it would be well worth it to bring up Ferdinand Alexander Bruce, given that he is a historical trans man that we know gave birth. Even more, we know it because he wrote an memoir, so we actually have his own words in his gender and life. Bruce was stealth at certain points in his life, but his transition was public and he was outed repeatedly, leading to constant discrimination. It's not known if his pregnancy was the product of sex or rape. He is an invaluable look into the history of transmasculine pregnancy and the relationships trans people had with pregnancy throughout history. This is the kind of trans man in history we don't think about because his life did not fall into the standard narrative of "transition, pass, marry a woman, get outed after death."

She also brings up the association of trans women and sex work, as a point to how trans women would have established a network of care for trans men using their knowledge as sex workers (a group that has always been closely tied to abortion). I think this a really good and interesting point, but I also think she misses the opportunity to explore the history of trans men in sex work. Sex work and general promiscuity has been associated with FTM crossdressing throughout history (also see this). Many trans men and nonbinary people present as feminine cis women while doing sex work today. There was even an anthology released recently on the experiences of transmasculine sex workers.

I think this is a good article but it's just... disappointing to see people approach this topic, that so much can be said about, and barely even scratch the surface of saying something new. Especially when her work on transfem history is so good.

[chonkykitkatart]

Apparently.... as long as The drawing isn't Sexual, Nudity works! So 😈 Here! Have this first batch of 7! Technically If i wanted to be fair, i should only show you 6 since I didn't draw Caligura or August, But Uh- I didn't render the other 5 I drew- so This is Better

Why Group these 7 together? Easy. They're my favourites, lol. With Henryk, but he's not rendered so- oh well. 3 things.

1, I know Olivia is wheelchair-bound. For the sake of this drawing, i stood her up bc this was also super helpful for body types. I also know that it doesn't look like she's leaning her weight on the support i gave her. That's just my bad 😔.

2, Daan has a Sylvian scar over his pelvis. Bc I'm mean like that.

And 3, these are MY perceptions of the characters. My headcanons and me projecting. You can, of course, ask about them, but don't try arguing against them in the comments. Also bc my perception of their genders is very fluid for the most part (like Idc if Levi is FTM or Cis, or for Daan, if He's FTM, Amab NB, Afab NB or Cis? Idfc).

None of the trans characters have any type of surgery bc although the first gender affirming surgery was done in the 1920s i just didn't think it'd be realistic (nor a priority) for any of them to have anything done. If enough of you ask, I can make like- my Sexuality/Gender Identity HC thing for all of them.

Anyway I hope you enjoy I'll post the other two some time tomorrow 💕

[headcanonforthought]

Gravity falls headcanon thing?

Dipper is trans (FTM). And has been identifying as a boy since like 4. So Mable is all in his trans business and gives not a single fuck. Of course, because she's a Tumblr online girly, she finds out about the Miku Binder. And falls in love. She spends months searching for one, even attempts making one herself. Untill she finds an Etsy seller who's made a few and buys one. It's not cheap, she wipes out her savings for this. The base binder is high quality, better than anything Dipper has, especially as Dipper gets older and needs more compression. Mable gives Dipper the Miku Binder on his birthday. She's screaming as he opens the gift because she's just so exited for him to see it. Of course when Dipper lays eyes on it, he's horrified. Of course she'd get him an embarrassing gift like this! Of course she'd make this whole thing into a joke! But then Dipper stops, he thinks about that trans kid support group his parents have him in at school... How some of those kids siblings fucking hate them. Deadname then, misgender them, destroy there binders... Dipper looks at the binders tag and realizes its the best binder brand out there. This was at least 100 dollars before the Miku transformation, who knows how much she sank on this gift. But sitting there, with a sister, a twin, who so fully and wholly accepted him, who wholeheartedly spent her savings to buy him a gender affirming garment, when she didn't have to... Dipper thanks Mable for the gift. He promises to try it on after he finished with the other gifts. He wears it every day until he's 19. But he keeps the Miku Binder in his closet, long after top surgery, long after his wedding, long after his kids go to college, he keeps it untill he and Mable are both gone.

[melrambles]

Do I Wanna Know?

HIIIII MY FIRST FANFIC THAT I'M POSTING HERE AHHHH SO NERVOUS MDNI!!!!

Full disclosure it's just angst, hurt/comfort, LOTS OF JELOUSY AND INTERNALISED HOMOPhoBIA, ftm british reader living in america, Schlatt x Reader (kinda obv) LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK OR I'LL EAT YOU >:)

(fic under the cut)

Word count: 2865

It was a casual Friday evening. You helped with filming the Chuckle Week final episode, mainly helping with costumes and decorations for the set. You, Charlie, Tucker, Ted and Schlatt were at some common LA bar, celebrating the end of the amazing podcast. You were close mates with the four men, meeting all of them years ago through Schlatt, your closest friend and your crush of many years. He was there for you even before you transitioned, being your pillar of support in the darkest times. 

You all crowded around the bar counter, chatting, drinking and just having fun. The bar wasn’t that full, a few groups littering the space along with some lone patrons. You had already been a few drinks in, definitely the most inebriated from the five. You were giggling, swaying from side to side, your vision blurred. You couldn’t help but notice how handsome Schlatt looked in the dim lights of the bar, his features soft and light, he absolutely looked at ease. 

So, when a gorgeous girl approached him, started openly flirting with him and he didn’t seem to mind it, your blood boiled. You always had the fear of Schlatt being actually straight, just figuring things out. He was always ambiguous with his sexuality, even with the closest of friends, even with you. 

He was flirting back with the girl, now completely detached from the group conversation. The three other guys noticed how quiet you’d gotten, their expressions somewhat worried, but they chucked it up to the alcohol in your system. Abruptly, you stood up from your seat. Your gaze was set on the karaoke machine tucked away in the back corner of the bar stage, empty and unoccupied. You decided that it was the best way to get your anger out of your system, scream out all the lyrics and just forget, forget, forget.

“Hey, you alright?” Tucker spoke up, his face confused and cautious, anxiously watching your moves. 

“Yeah, yeah. I saw a karaoke machine when we walked in and just wanted to give the old junk a try” You faked a smile, trying to convince yourself more than anyone else. The guys knew you long enough to realise that your slurred words weren’t at all nonchalant, they noticed the hint of anger and jealousy in your speech. 

“Just don’t embarrass us, m’kay?” Ted spoke up, trying to cast some humour into the steadily growing tension around all of you. You nodded in return, casting another glance at Schlatt and the girl before swiftly moving to the stage.

As you approached the machine, you noticed that it was already on, covered in a thin layer of dust. You sweeped your hand over the screen, trying to dust off the device to the best of your ability with limited resources. Wiping off your now dirty hand on your sweatshirt your eyes raked over the collection of songs to choose from. You kept scrolling the list, not in the mood to sing Barbie Girl by Aqua. Your eyes caught a very familiar song, one that held a lot of significance in your current predicament. You briefly glanced at Schlatt again, the girl now had her hand on his bicep, charming him into oblivion as he swirled his whiskey with intent. Your thoughts burned with venom and you decided that this song would be the one to sing. 

You grabbed the microphone attached to the machine, clicking the song and closing your eyes as the intro began to play. All the patrons now turned towards you, even Schlatt and that fucking girl. Ted and Tucker gave you encouraging thumbs up, Charlie smirked knowingly and nodded in approval. Schlatt looked utterly confused and leaned in to the guys, trying to ask them what was that about. 

The alcohol in your body locked out any embarrassment or stage fright, the only emotion in your whole system being jealousy. You hadn’t started taking testosterone yet, so your voice was quite high still, but with years of voice training you got it to sound just the way you wanted even without the hormone replacement therapy. 

Have you got colour in your cheeks?

D’you ever get that fear that you can’t shift the type

That sticks around like summat in your teeth?

Are there some aces in your sleeve?

Your eyes burned with fire as you began singing, your accent accentuated by the song and the anger seeping through your words. You kept looking at Schlatt, your gaze unwavering even for a moment as you knew the lyrics like the back of your hand. Even the girl, who was now full on pressing her tits into his arm, was mesmerized by your performance, her chin prepped up on Schlatt’s shoulder, as if challenging you, taunting you with her looks.

Have you no idea that you’re in deep?

I’ve dreamt about you nearly every night this week

You kept your voice steady, pouring all the unresolved and bottled up feelings into this performance. Those three lines were filled with the most venom out of all of them, yet there was a strange fondness intertwined with them. Your gaze wavered for a moment, you blinked away the tears that had started bubbling up in your eyes. 

How many secrets can you keep?

’Cause there’s this tune I found that makes me think of you somehow

Spilling drinks on my settee

And I play it on repeat, until I fall asleep

Do I wanna know? If this feeling flows both ways

Sad to see you go, was sorta hoping that you’d stay.

Baby we both know, that the nights were mainly made

For saying things that you can’t say tomorrow day.

You took a quick breath before singing the chorus, knowing that all of your emotion would be poured into it. You squeezed the microphone in your hands in a futile attempt of grounding yourself. 

Crawlin’ back to you

Ever thought of calling when

You’ve had a few?

‘Cause I always do

Maybe I’m too

Busy being yours to fall for

Somebody new

Now I’ve thought it through

Crawlin’ back to you

You quickly exhaled the rest of the air filling your lungs before taking a subtle breath, a scoff playing on your features as you kept staring daggers at the object of your affections. 

So have you got the guts?

You rolled your eyes with an exaggerated frown, although it wasn’t that far from how you were actually feeling inside. Regardless, you continued with the song, unaware that Charlie was recording your performance, definitely to taunt you with it in the morning. 

Been wondering if your heart’s still open

And if so I wanna know what time it shuts

Simmer down and pucker up

I’m sorry to interrupt

Followed by another roll of your eyes and a scoff, your eyes instantly softening with the next lines.

It’s just I’m constantly on the cusp

Of trying to kiss you

I dunno if you

Feel the same as I do

We could be together

If you wanted to…

You could see the girl whispering something to Schlatt, his eyes widening and his grip on his whiskey glass tightening, almost smashing it in his hands. She chuckled slyly and kissed his cheek, returning to her friends in the far corner of the bar. Schlatt has now fully turned towards the stage, a dark, red lipstick mark adorning his face. 

You finished your performance and were lulled back into reality with an uproar of applause. Seemingly, all the patrons were now aware of the machine and rushed to form a line in front of the stage, all of them wanting to give a performance like yours. 

You squeezed through the growing crowds, very glad that you were after your top surgery and didn't have to push your tits against every single person. You went back to your seat, the three men applauding you loudly, gushing over your voice and the performance itself. Schlatt stayed quiet, his eyes confused, but the rest of his expression was unreadable. You left some cash on the counter and the bartender quickly snatched it up, closing your tab. 

“I’ll be leaving now, I’m gonna take an uber back to my hotel, so you don’t have to worry ‘bout me” You said your goodbyes, the guys confused at the sudden exit, but understanding that you’ve had a lot more drinks than any of them. They bid you a goodbye as well, your eyes briefly tracing over Schlatt and leaving him without saying a word. 

As you stood outside the bar, leaned against a wall, smoke from your cigarette floating into the air, the smoke from your mouth flowing from your bottom lip and vanishing into the night. You heard the bar doors open as you waited for your uber, your cig almost burning out.

“Had I known you had vocals like that I would’ve asked you to be on my christmas album” Schlatt spoke, your head immediately whipping towards him with furious disbelief etched onto your face.

“Is that all you have to say? Really? Your fucking christmas album?” You spat out, your cigarette now thrown on the pavement and stomped, now not even resembling a cigarette.

Schlatt’s face contorted in confusion, his head leaning to the side, as if trying to discern what you were talking about. 

“Do you want me to say something else?” He asked cautiously, the looks you’ve given him while singing still etched in his brain, almost burning with how vivid they still were.

“Yeah, I dunno, maybe anything other than your fucking christmas album after I’ve poured out all my feelings for you mere minutes ago in the bar?” You raised your voice, tears burning at your eyes again. Schlatt winced at your harsh words, finally understanding why you were looking at him the whole time. 

“Is… Is that what it is?” He asked shyly, remembering that you both were drunk, you much more than him, not believing what he was hearing was true.

“Are you fucking deaf? Or maybe it was that fucking bitch just flirting your ear off? Oh I saw, I saw the whole fucking thing and it made me so fucking furious, because for years, years I’ve dreamt of being to one holding you like this, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, just being yours. I’ve waited, patiently waited for any fucking sign before I transitioned and then when I did I buried all those feelings because I didn’t want to ruin what we had. Tonight, though, I’ve had enough. You literally started flirting with some random broad when I’ve been here, the whole fucking time. Do you have any idea how much it hurt to see that? Do you have any fucking clue how long I’ve been head over heels for you?!” You spat, words effortlessly spilling from your mouth. When you stopped, even you were in shock, immediately sobering up. Your eyes were wide, chest heaving, face, ears and neck red.

Schlatt stood there completely dumbfounded, unsure of what would be the right response to your drunken confession. The man just took in your venomous sentences, his mind running a thousand thoughts per second. In a flash, he remembered how you met in uni, how you immediately clicked as friends and how much he wanted to be with you pre-transition. When you did, in fact, start looking more masculine, he felt those feelings burying themself, his internalised homophobia taking over and making him see you just as a friend.

You meant so much to him, you’ve always been there for him when he needed it the most and in turn he was there for you. You both supported each other when no one else did, it was you two against the world. How could’ve he been so goddamn blind? How didn’t he reach for you when he had the chance right in front of him. You were the one who knew him the most, you were the one who’s seen his best and his worst and stayed, even when his countless girlfriends didn’t. His thoughts were broken by you checking your phone, clicking away at the bright screen.

“What are you doing?” He asked, his voice quiet, vulnerable.

“Cancelling my uber, I think we have to talk” You replied, seeing how his eyes moved from side to side, the cogs in his head turning. 

“Yeah, yeah, we uh… we should, yeah” He replied, his shoulders lunking in an attempt to make himself as small as possible, despite him towering over you by almost a whole foot. You would’ve found the action endearing if it wasn’t for the unresolved tension between you two.

You wordlessly grabbed his hand, the touch burning both of you, as you started walking, sending Ted a quick text that you and Schlatt went for a walk and would meet the rest of the group in the morning. You shoved your phone back in the pocket of your trousers and focused on finding a place to sit and comfortably talk. 

After about 15 minutes of walking in silence you saw the beach in the distance, hearing the calming crashing of the ocean against the sand. You followed the sound and approached a beautiful clearing, the moonlight hitting the water in such a breathtaking way. You glanced at Schlatt who was now staring at the view as well, your hands still intertwined together. He looked so ethereal with the moon shining on his face, the light breeze messing up the loose strands of hair that peaked from under his cap. 

You tugged on his hand and walked further into the beach, finding a nice rock to sit on without sitting on the sand. You pulled your hand away from his as he sat down and you had the impression that he chased it, but ultimately decided against grabbing it again. 

“Listen I… uhm. I’m sorry, I really am, for everything” He began, his eyes looking ahead at the horizon, trying to sort out his thoughts into cohesive sentences. Your head turned towards him, already prepared for the awkwardness that would follow his rejection.

“I’ve also liked you for years, toots, it’s just…” He broke his sentence, your eyes widening with confusion as what he said wasn’t what you expected at all. You turned your whole body to face him, now. You sat criss crossed on the rock, your elbows digging into your thighs.

“I’ve liked you since we met, before you started transitioning. I was too scared to make a move, because you were so beautiful, you still are! I’ve had this feeling that you were out of my league and… fuck” He groaned in frustration, throwing his yankees cap to the sand and running his hand through his hair in a calming motion. You sat there quietly, listening to everything he had to say with patience, giving him all the space he needed.

Schlatt reached for your hand, squeezing it with reassurance, both for him and for you. When you squeezed him back he felt a small grin breaking onto his face, knowing that it was time to let everything out.

“When you transitioned, my feelings changed. I still loved you, fuck I still do, more than a friend, but there was this thought in the back of my head that it was wrong, that no one would accept it, especially my parents. I always had this thought that everyone would disapprove and that we couldn’t be together because we’re both guys”

You scoffed quietly, your eyes briefly looking up at the moon, saying a silent prayer of gratitude towards it, feeling it smile back at you.

“I know that it’s dumb, my whole persona is a right wing conservatist who jerks off to gay porn and kisses guys, I get it. But, I can’t help but feel happy with you, feel like we belong together, even if some part of me thinks it’s wrong” He finished his confession, an understanding smile painted on your face as he turned to finally face you, lone tears staining his cheeks.

You pulled your hand away from his grasp and moved it to wipe away the tears from his face, letting your touch linger there for a few moments longer. Before you could pull it away, Schlatt’s hand was on your wrist, desperately holding it close, drinking in your warmth.

“I think you’d like Car Lights, by my good friend James” You joked, trying to lighten up the mood, now that both of you have calmed down and sobered up. 

He scoffed playfully, his eyes still locked onto yours, admiring how handsome you looked in the unfiltered moonlight. His eyes dropped from your eyes to your lips briefly, but not fast enough to escape your attention. You smiled and moved your other hand to his other cheek, both of you now softly leaning in. 

“Can I…?” His voice trailed off, the question obvious and loud in between you, despite the whisper of his words. 

“Yeah, I’d like you to” You replied, even quieter than he had as he closed the gap between you, your lips finally meeting in between after years of patience and frustration. 

Tagging those who MIGHT be interested :) @teslasucks37 @quesabo-corner @opalcicle @obsessivestar @shhhhh-secrets @lapse0freason @laambfuzz @p3achslimes @bio-hazard @hufflepuffsthunderdome @jellybell92 also I love all of you guys hoenstly just seeing how amazingly y'all write has given me the boost to come back to it (i wrote this in 3 hours whaaaa)

[sharkboywrites]

Baldur’s Gate Astarion x FTM Reader who has poor vision?

Maybe a bit of hurt/comfort???

Astarion With a FTM S/O With Poor Vision

A/N: Okay so I don't really have bad vision so I'm just going off of what I know from other people. This also wasn't very specific so i wasn't sure how serious to make the lack of vision so I tried to go for some type of mid ground.

Being in this situation wasn't easy for the average person, but with your vision issues, things suddenly became a lot harder

All of a sudden you were out of your element and didn't have the accommodations you used to

You tried to hide it, did your best to appear as if your vision was completely normal, although it was clear to anyone who paid attention that you were struggling

You always left the reading to everyone else, always giving it to someone you think would do better with the subject matter like Gale, covering up for the fact you couldn't see well enough to read it

When travelling you always kept your eyes to the ground, making sure you wouldn't trip over anything

but it slowly became more obvious as you always made sure you were at the back of the group and tripping over clear obstacles despite always looking straight at the ground

Nobody said anything though, deciding it either was a touchy subject or that it wasn't worth their time

But as time started to go on, you started to struggle more, needing to be helped even if you didn't want it

It all came crashing down on you one night as you struggled to take your bindings off

You couldn't see clear enough to take it off, find the right places to undo it

But you couldn't just leave it on

You could feel the hours of having it on while travelling and battling starting to take it's toll on you, and that, combined with the stress and panic, started to make the tears fall

You sat there for a while, struggling to take it off, the tears blurring your vision even more, and hiccupping, trying to stay quiet

You couldn't stay quiet enough, and of course Astarion had found you

With his usual demeanor, you expected him to laugh, make a snide comment about your state

But to your surprise, that's not what he did

Instead he slowly kneeled in front of you, his hands held out in a question, asking if it was alright to touch you

At your teary nod, he slowly and gently undid your binding, it was the gentlest touch you think you'd ever felt

After making sure it was all off and you were well, with an off handed comment about needing to be more safe with your methods of binding, he gently slide your shirt back over you, not something he needed to do, but something he did anyways, an action that spoke more than words

He let you lean up against him, your tears and sniffling slowing to a stop

He wasn't very warm, being a vampire and all, but it was all the comfort you could ask for

His arm rested on your shoulder, the weight also helping you calm down

No words were spoken as you calmed down, but once you did, you explained your situation to him, and he was perfectly understanding

From then on, he's subtly offers to help you, but not in a way that would make you feel weak

He would let you try your hardest, encouraging you the whole way, and if you couldn't, he wouldn't make you feel bad for it

He also helps with your binding, making sure you're doing it safely along with making sure you know you have his support

While you weren't expecting Astarion's empathy and caring nature, you weren't complaining, he really was helpful

I'm surprisingly proud of this one for some reason. I wanted to get more writings done over my break, but I've been feeling very overworked still. I'll try to get more done, sorry if you've sent in a request and been waiting a while. ty for reading and have a nice day

[thechaoticcheese2]

Was playing CoD Ghosts while grinding for achievements with @kimiheartblade and this fucker hit me in the back of the head on and off during a mission. College AU Ghosts. Going in alphabetical order cause I said so

Ajax - Librarian. In a relationship with Merrick. Still active in Ghosts, just more secretive about it. Absolutely loves a good book and is not above telling people to be quiet or leave his library. Elias - New history teacher to the school. Nervous about it, but does his best. Helps provide for Logan and Hesh. Was married to Lily before her death when Hesh and Logan were just kids. He still has a picture of her in his wallet and blames himself for not being able to have a better job at the time. Is kind of a part of Ghosts. He tries not to intervene or get involved much, until they started to ask about his boys joining after Merrick brings it up in passing. Knows Keegan from the Ghosts and is able to set up help for Logan communicating with more that just looks at Hesh.

Hesh - Hesh is a ftm, his birth name being Delilah, but being changed to David before he took on the nickname Hesh. Hesh always just knew from a young age, his mom was super supportive and after a handful of years after he came out, was he able to legally change his name. Elias was more wary and needed constant help with the change, but got there eventually. Hesh has taken T, and passes. He's studying to be a history major at the moment as well, having Logan tag along. Due to Logan never leaving his side, he's become his younger brother's translator, having learned his slight movements and ques. Hesh has also been forced to meet Keegan due to Logan refusing to meet anyone that could help him learn to communicate in a different way than through Hesh.

Keegan - ASL teacher who also doubles as a Sign Language interpreter and someone who helps with special needs around campus. He's asked by Elias to help Logan learn Sign Language as a way to communicate. Keegan agrees, after all, Elias helped keep the Ghosts together through out the years despite slowly fading from it and the unexpected betrayal from Rorke.

Kick - That guy that just knows basically everyone. He's not apart of the College really, but he can show up and no one really questions it. He works as an IT guy somewhere big, but he won't say where. A part of Ghosts and usually handles any social issues.

Logan - Very selective mute ever since his mom died. Has learned to communicate through small gestures and looks. Logan does say a few words here and there in a group of three, usually jus this family unit though. Rarely does he grunt or make noise (usually from physical exertion or pain). He stares. A lot. Almost never leaves Hesh's side. Never found a reason to learn Sign Language, after all, he had Hesh who would always translate for him. Right? Was reluctant to go see Keegan, but begrudgingly went to stay near Hesh. Logan isn't entirely studying anything, he just does whatever Hesh does. Secretively super artistic.

Merrick - Football Coach for the college, dating Ajax. "Leader" of the Ghosts. The members of the group see him as a stand in leader for when Elias isn't actively in meetings or gatherings. Used to butt heads with Rorke before his betrayal.

Ramos - Librarian at rival College. Smart guy that just so happened to get a crush on Rorke when he started working at his college. Helps Rorke work on their bikes and add mortifications.

Rorke - Used to be a member of the Ghosts, but due to a misunderstanding (poor communication on both ends), left and 'started' The Federation. He also is a Football Coach, just at Romas' school. His and Merrick's teams often butt heads and every other year they switch who is winning.

Who are the Ghosts in this AU? The Ghosts are a biker group that started when everyone was in college, used to have a bunch of members, but the originals, Ajax, Elias, Keegan, Kick, and Merrick, are really that's all that is left in the area, the rest moving out, or in Rorke's case, betraying the Ghosts.

The biker group is known to protect people from harm on school grounds, like a vigilante type deal, but some how also slowly got paid to be the guards/officers of the school, especially since everyone but Kick works at the school now. They do still wear the masks to hide their faces, and while a handful of people know who they are or figured it out, no one really says anything about it.

Hesh and Logan have been told stories about them, but until one night that the two are jumped by The Federation, they were sure that it was just a myth. Hesh and Logan both wanted to join, but Elias wasn't too sure.

Who are The Federation in this AU?

Also a biker group! Their leader is anonymous, but lead Rorke to where he was today. They usually just like to roughhouse around town and cause minor troubles here and there, but since Hesh and Logan started college, he's been slowly getting more aggressive and having the gang cause crimes here and there.

What happened to Mrs. Walker?

Right now, she's going to die saving Logan, causing his heavy selective mutism. I'm still trying to figure it out, but the main thought is a bus broke down on some railroad tracks while a train was coming and Logan was the only one small enough to fit through the windows and so he barely made it out alive and watched his mom become a blood splatter in a bus. How did the bus break down right before a train was coming? UHHHH no idea. Might put Rorke up to it, might just have it be a freak accident.

This is gonna be a more serious story if I do end up writing about it so it won't end up here. I do plan on having a Keegan x Logan thing goin' on so there's that. I dunno. I'm tired. Goobnight.

[toastiemations-00]

Kicken (Kay Keira Chicken)

-

Age: 23

Height: 6'

Spirit: Itri (ee-tree)

-

Kicken or Kay formally known as Keira is a ftm trans individual who went through quite the journey. Born in a small town in the Philippines Kay's mom disappeared the next day leaving Kay in the care of her father. Her dad worked hard and eventually got a job overseas and they moved. Kay was placed in a daytime program to learn English and socialize with kids her age. This is where she met DogDay for the first time and Dogday would introduce her to the rest. The group remained friends all throughout school and even though to today. At the start of highschool Kay however began to feel general discomfort, known to be one of the best singers in choir, Kicken received what he saw as undesired attention. Being the "girl everyone admired" began to eat away at Kicken as that title didn't sit right with them. They disliked being that girl everyone loved. When getting their first home they discovered the trans community and after talking to the school councilor, came out as trans to friends, family, and teachers. Kay's dad became extremely supportive and as a gift saved money for top surgery which he received at the end of junior year of highschool. His friends were all supportive especially the girls who knew how much he'd been bothered. Before going to college Kicken had lost his dad in an unfortunate accident leaving Kicken heartbroken for loosing a major pillar in his support system. Thanks to the help of the college Kicken moved into the dorms early. With a new resolve and determination to do something with his life that is meaningful to him and as a way to connect with his dad.

Going to college for technical engineering with a minor in game design. Kicken loves to emerse himself in a good game. Kicken also does enjoy himself in the sport of roller derby. As a child he has an okay ish relationship with his spirit Itri but with the transition and in recent years the two have come to a better understanding. Making Kicken a rather decent pendant user.

Kicken while walking around one evening was approached by a gentleman who claimed that gifted pendant users should attend a certain party. Kicken at first wasn't interested but was essentially forced into the party location where while walking around ran into catnap. For Kicken it was love at first sight as the cat led him out of the party. Kicken snitten with the stranger oddly waited to run into him again and offer to go buy some drinks. Catnap accepted and the two began to become friends. Kicken would introduce catnap to his group of friends. Still in love with him. After discovering that Catnap and Dogday were dating he initially felt heartbroken, and tearily confessed his love for them both wishing for them to be happy, only to end up on a date with them and becoming poly with them. After a year of dating Kicken also moved in with DogDay and Catnap.

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Kicken strives to complete school and get a good job to continue his transition journey while DogDay has offered to help him pay for his surgeries Kicken has refused, determined to do it in his own. He tends to be the life of amy party despite being an introvert mostly spending his time playing videogames when not busy with classes

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[jokeringcutio]

Arthur Harrow x ftm Reader - Part 1 (At the Cult)

ONE: Summary: You’re part of Arthur Harrow’s community, but hold a special place. Arthur Harrow (Cult Leader) x FTM Reader. Rating: Explicit (Contains smut). Words: 6026 Thanks to the wonderful supporter who commissioned this fic ♡

For: @apriltearsbringmayfears Tags: Older man x younger (ftm) reader, consensual intimacy, praise kink, touching, kissing, explicit sexual content, bit of powerplay, overall sweet, you x the villainous cult leader, Arthur takes care of his favorite.

The compound buzzed with activity. Over the months, disciples from all corners of the world flocked to Arthur Harrow's side, drawn by his charisma and the promise of Ammit's judgment. The compound grew. Each day brought them closer to summoning their dark mistress, and the tension in the air was palpable.

You stood at the edge of the gathering, the evening air thick with incense and murmured prayers. Arthur Harrow's voice rose above the crowd, measured and calm, guiding his followers through the ritual. You watched him intently, captivated by the way he moved and the cadence of his words.

"Come closer," Arthur called out, his blue eyes locking onto yours. The group parted as you made your way to the front. The soft light of dusk cast shadows across his face, accentuating the lines of wisdom and age. He reached out, gently taking your hand, pulling you closer to his side. His touch sent a shiver down your spine.

"Your insight is invaluable to us," he said softly, loud enough for others to hear. "What do you think?" He turned to you, inviting your input on the matter being discussed – a new prayer to Ammit, a change in the daily routine, the specifics blurred in the haze of your focus on him.

The fact that he asked for your opinion had not escaped his follower’s notice. It was a rare and coveted position. Arthur rarely sought the opinions of others. You, however, were granted a glimpse behind the scenes, privy to the inner workings of the cult. Arthur Harrow sought your counsel on matters both earthly and otherworldly, and you found yourself inexplicably drawn to him. His very presence set your heart aflutter, and you felt honored to be in his orbit.

You remembered the first time he sought your advice - and more.

One sweltering afternoon, as the sun beat down on the compound relentlessly, Arthur had summoned you to his private chambers. You'd been a part of his community for several months. Months that were spent locking eyes and exchanging careful smiles. Months that had rewarded you with thoughtful frowns and pursed lips. Until that very faithful day when Arthur had decided it was time to take action.

"I have need of your counsel, my disciple," he said, his voice laced with a hint of urgency. "Come, walk with me."

You followed him willingly, your heart pounding in your chest. Arthur's chambers were cool and dim, a welcome respite from the punishing heat outside. He closed the door firmly behind you, the click of the latch ominous in the ensuing silence.

"We are close," he breathed, his eyes alight with religious fervor. "So very close to unleashing our goddess's judgment upon this wounded world. But... I find I do not wish to face the end of days alone."

He slid his strong, weathered hand up your arm, sending shivers down your spine. You shivered, both from the coolness of the room and the intensity of his gaze.

"I have need of you, my sweet disciple," he purred, his voice a low growl that set your blood on fire. "I value your counsel,” he hesitated, low voice a murmur that sent electric tingling down your core. You felt hot, thighs squeezing, throat suddenly dry – making it hard to swallow – as you waited for the words that came next.

“I cannot continue without your... companionship."

His fingers brushed your cheek, gently caressing your cheekbone before slipping lower, lower still. You gasped as his fingertips found the hem of your tunic, sliding it upward. The air cooled your damp skin, but not nearly as much as the cold metal of his cane as he traced it up your thigh.

"Arthur," you breathed, "I..."

"Hush, my boy," he soothed, his lips mere centimeters from your ear. "You are mine to do with as I please. Ammit has willed it so."

With that, he kissed you, his lips demanding and hot, bruising in their ardor. His other hand fisted in your hair, angling your head just so. He was insatiable, ravenous in his need for you, and you knew in that moment, you belonged to him.

His cane clattered to the ground, followed by the rustle of fabric as his clothes fell away. He lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the desk behind him, laying you down as if you were made of the most delicate porcelain.

"Forevermore, we are entwined," he growled, his eyes glowing with otherworldly fire. "Body, soul, and... eternity."

You snapped out of the memory, your eyes upon your leader once more. Arthur’s gaze was focused, sharp, but his pupils were dark. A look that you recognized. It was almost as if he had read your mind.

His hand lingered a little too long, hovering just above your own as if hesitant to touch you. Then he retreated a step, the distance allowing you to think once more. He was a magnet, distracting and always pulling you close. But you loved him for it and wouldn’t want it any other way.

You offered your thoughts, careful, measured words spilling from your lips. Arthur nodded approvingly, his gaze never wavering from yours. The others watched, some with envy, others with admiration. They saw how he favored you, how he sought your counsel, keeping you close.

Let them watch, you thought with glee. Let them be jealous. You had what none of them could have for their own.

As if to prove your point, Arthur stepped nearer again, uncaring about the looks his followers gave you.

"Thank you," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear as he leaned in. "You always know just what to say." His praise filled you with a warmth that spread from your chest to your fingertips, a sensation both intoxicating and grounding.

This time his hands did touch. His warm palms slid past your shoulders, lingering a little too long, searing through the fabric of your clothes. Your breath hitched in your throat. His eyes darkened. There was want visible in both of your gazes. Want, and need, and lust dripped in sin.

But you had to be patient and wait.  

"Take an example of this fine young man," Arthur then said loudly as he turned back to the others - you'd almost forgotten they were there. No longer were his eyes fixed on you. But you heard the gravel in his voice, the need and longing that he was pushing down. If others heard it, it could easily be interpreted as devotion for Ammit instead. "Now, let's not disappoint our goddes any further. We have matters to attend to," he wrapped it all up so beautifully. And you watched him as he stood with his arms stretched, the red fabric of his simple cotton blouse stretched over the broad muscles of his back.

No wonder these men and women were all entranced. If any man could honor a god, it was him. ~

As the evening wore on and the group dispersed, Arthur lingered near you, his presence a constant comfort. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, gently but determinedly.

"I have more to discuss with you," he said, his voice a low murmur meant only for you. His strong grip was comforting, guiding you in the direction of his office.

The hallway was quiet but not deserted, yet the sound of crushed glass beneath his feet inside the sandals and the tapping of his cane were the only noises breaking the silence. Each step resonated with purpose, echoing the devotion you felt for him. You glanced up at him and admired his features in the dimly lit light of the hall. How beautiful he looked, how strong and regal. It was the determination, you thought. And the confidence he oozed. The combination of these traits was like a potent cocktail, leaving you dizzy with admiration.

Arthur's fingers brushed against your arm as he guided you through the dimly lit corridor. The scent of incense lingered in the air, a mix of sandalwood and something sweet, almost intoxicating. You felt the eyes of the other followers on you, their gazes a blend of curiosity, jealousy, and reverence.

When you reached his office, he opened the door, ushering you inside with a gentle but insistent hand on your back. A gesture that was both inviting and commanding. You stepped inside, the room filled with the soft glow of candlelight. The walls were lined with ancient texts and symbols, each a testament to Arthur's devotion to Ammit.

"Sit down, love," he said, motioning to the chair opposite his desk. You obeyed, your legs trembling slightly as you lowered yourself into the seat. Arthur walked around the desk, leaning heavily on his cane, the sound of crushed glass inside his sandals a reminder of his constant penance.

"I have had to restrain myself all evening," he began, his blue eyes locking onto yours. But before you could respond, he moved closer, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. His touch was warm, almost burning.

"It’s high time you give me what I need."

His lips crashed against yours, rough yet tender, a kiss that stole your breath away. You melted into him, every fiber of your being consumed by the fire of his touch. When he pulled back, his eyes were dark with desire.

"I need you," he murmured, the admission a low growl. "I need you now."

The world outside ceased to exist. You knew your pupils were blown, that the desire he felt for you was reflected just as strongly in you.

"Undress," Arthur commanded, his voice a rough whisper against your ear.

Your heart pounded as you nodded, fingers trembling slightly as they reached for the buttons of your shirt. Each button came undone with an audible click, the sound magnified in the quiet room. Arthur's eyes never left yours, his gaze intense and unyielding.

The shirt slid from your shoulders and dropped to the floor carelessly.

"Good boy," he murmured, a faint smile playing on his lips. His praise sent a shiver down your spine, your skin prickling with anticipation.

The cool air caressed your bare skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from Arthur's body. His hand reached out, fingertips grazing your collarbone, tracing a path down to your chest. You inhaled sharply at his touch, desire pooling low in your abdomen.

His fingers paused, graced over the faded scars, traced them, and then slid lower. He paused again, eyes darting up to meet yours.

"Now, help me," he said, taking a step back. He leaned heavily on his cane, the crunch of glass underfoot echoing in the room.

You rose from your chair and moved closer, hands steadying as you undid the buttons of his blouse. The fabric was coarse beneath your fingers, worn and familiar. You pushed it open, reveling at the sight of his chest. He was smoother than most, but still strong and muscular for a man his age. It only showed how fit he was, how strong. How well he took care of himself despite the calm demeanor he normally exuded in front of his followers.

With careful hands, you pushed his blouse down, allowing it to slip from his arms. You tugged at the garment when it got caught on his bracelets, freeing it so the blouse could slip further down his arms.

And then the fabric fell away, revealing the tattoo of scales on his right arm, a symbol of his divine purpose. Your breath hitched as you traced the ink with your thumb, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath.

The intricate design captivated you. The scales, perfectly balanced, seemed almost alive even in their stillness. You remembered the first time you saw them move, the way they shifted and tipped whenever Arthur Harrow held someone to judge them. It had been a moment of both awe and fear, the power of judgment tangible in those fluid lines.

Now, as you studied the tattoo, admiration filled your thoughts. Each line, each curve of the scales, spoke of a purpose far beyond mere human understanding. Arthur's role as a judge, divinely ordained, was etched into his very flesh. The memory of the scales balancing and tipping, the fate of a soul hanging in the balance, made your pulse quicken.

Such power he held. And he knew it. Your eyes sought his.

Arthur was quiet, allowing you this moment to explore the tattoo – it wasn’t the first time. You’d yet to see anyone else be allowed to touch his skin in such an intimate way. To explore his forearm and the scales that were drawn there.

His eyes watched you with an intensity that spoke of the weight he carried. You wondered what it was like for him, to bear such a mark, to be the vessel through which judgment passed.

As your fingers continued to trace the intricate scales, you could feel his pulse quicken beneath your touch, matching the rhythm of your own racing heart. The intensity of the moment was almost overwhelming.

Then his fingers curled around your wrists and the scales began to shift. You were startled, even though this always seemed to happen at his touch. You knew he couldn’t help it. The scales did their work when his hands met flesh. It was Ammit’s will. It was why he wore long sleeves to cover up the moving mark.

You knew which way they would tip.

With your breath high in your chest, you watched as Arthur’s fingers curled gently around your wrist, tugging you closer to him. The scales shifted, their movement subtle at first, then more pronounced. They tipped to one side, then the other. The delicate balance, usually so steady, now mirrored the tumultuous emotions swirling within both of you. The scales' movement seemed to draw Arthur closer, his breath hitching as he leaned into your touch. The divine mark on his arm reflected the inner conflict and desire that neither of you could ignore.

The sight of the scales in motion, combined with the raw need in Arthur's eyes, created an intensity that left you breathless.

His lips were upon yours once more, just as hungry as before. But this time it was you who fisted his hair and pulled him close – hungry for more. Famished.

The moment the kiss ended, Arthur's gaze locked onto yours his eyes reflecting a mixture of longing and need that sent a shiver down your spine. His usual stoic demeanor faltered, revealing the depth of his desire. The air between you crackled with unspoken tension, each breath you took seeming to draw him closer.

"More," you breathed, lifting your gaze to meet his. "Arthur…”

His eyes darkened, a primal satisfaction flickering in their depths. "I don’t take commands from anyone," he murmured, a hint of amusement in his voice, “except Ammit herself.”

A guttural growl escaped his lips as he pulled you closer against his chest, arms circling around you. He rested his chin on your shoulder. “Do you think you’re in the position to command me?”

“N-No,” the answer came instantly, a rasped whisper. Why had your voice turned hoarse? It must be the arousal thrumming through your body, begging him to touch you more. Wanting, needing it. “I’d never dream of it,” you rasped.

Arthur merely tilted his head but it was enough, a silent indication that he anticipated more from you. You heard him draw a deep breath, his nose buried next to your ear, taking in the scent of you.

"I am yours, but also your disciple,” you breathed, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I like it when you take control. When you show me your power."

He stirred, a sign of approval of your words. A slow, predatory smile spread across his face. "Then you'll enjoy what's next."

You bit your lip, anticipation coiling tightly within you as he led your hands down to his waist, indicating what he wanted you to do. You obliged, fingers working deftly to undo the button of his pants. He watched you, his gaze heavy with approval.

"You're doing well, love," he praised, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. His cock sprung free from its confines.

With his pants undone, you eased them down his legs, careful not to disturb the glass shards embedded in his sandals. His briefs followed.

It took a lot not to let your gaze linger too long on his erect cock, already bobbing up against his waist. Pre-cum already moistening the tip.

Arthur stepped out of his clothes gracefully, despite his limp, and kicked them aside.

"Now, come here," he ordered, reaching for you.

You obeyed without hesitation, stepping into his embrace. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close against his solid frame. His lips found yours again, the kiss searing and demanding. You melted into him, surrendering completely to his dominance.

"Good boy," he murmured against your lips, his breath hot and intoxicating. "Such a devoted young man.”

Arthur's hands roamed over your back, his touch firm and possessive. His lips trailed down your neck, each kiss igniting a trail of fire beneath your skin. You shivered, your breath hitching as he nipped at your collarbone.

"Mine," he growled, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine.

"Yes," you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation. “Yours.” You would never deny how he had captured you.

He pushed you gently but firmly onto the small couch in the corner of his office. The leather was cool against your heated skin, a stark contrast that made you gasp. Arthur stood over you, his eyes dark with desire.

"Good boy," he murmured, running a hand through your hair. "You're so obedient."

You looked up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. His praise washed over you, filling you with a sense of pride and belonging. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His weight pressed you into the couch, his dominance unmistakable.

"Arthur," you breathed, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

"Shh," he hushed you, his lips brushing against your ear. "Let me take care of you."

His hands moved with practiced ease, guiding you into position as he sank to his knees between your spread legs. You felt his strength in every touch, every movement. He was in control, and you reveled in it. His fingers traced patterns on your skin, tracing the fading scars of what once was and what now felt much better, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"Beautiful," he whispered, his head between your thighs. His voice filled with reverence as his eyes feasted on your torso. "So perfect for me."

You felt his hands slide lower, felt his fingers hook behind the waistband of your cotton pants, tugging, and lifting your hips. The garment came off easily, revealing that small bulge in its full glory.

Arthur’s hitched breath gave away his pleasure, how his pale eyes darkened as they came to rest upon your crotch. The small cock nestled between your legs, not as large as his, but ever so sensitive. Already fully erect, - your body did not hide the full amount of your excitement - and your devoted leader leaned over you without hesitation, grasping your cock with a reverence that should have been deserved for holy ceremonies.

“Mine,” he said again, his words rasped and filled with raw desire. His fingers curled around it, tugging harsher than gentle – but in a good way.

You moaned softly, your body responding to his words and touches. His fingers danced past your cock, up and down, fingertips searingly hot against your hardness.

He dipped his head forward, murmuring sweet words against the skin of your thigh.

“Such a good boy,” you could vaguely distinguish, but his voice was so terribly low and muffled by your skin as he placed open-mouthed kisses all the way up to your pubic bone. Your core ached and tingled, begging him to place those open-mouthed kisses there. But he was teasing you.

“You will take me so well,” another open-mouthed kiss while his fingers danced down your shaft until only his thumb pressed down against it, creating circling motions that sent sparks of pleasure wrecking through your core.

“Look how hard you are for me already…” The kiss against your thigh turned into a lick, surprising you and erupting a low mewl from your lips. Another flick of his thumb against your cock - it was nearly too much already.

“Look how hard your cock is,” as if to prove his point, he moved his head closer to your core. His lips pressed wetly against your cock, flicking his tongue flat against your throbbing cock before taking in the tip and sucking hard. Your toes curled and your fingers reached for his shoulders, digging into his skin. While his mouth occupied your throbbing cock, his fingers dug lower, not giving you any rest. They explored, twitched, and scissored your wet core.

“Look how wet your delicious cunt,” another lick past your cock. Another digit curling deep inside you. Wetness was already gushing out, coating his fingers, your walls twitched tightly around the invading digits.

You let out a curse, head falling backward, while you tried to pull the man close. “More,” you moaned. Not a demand but a plea. You knew not to command him when he was like this.

You felt Arthur’s fingers move more earnestly inside your cunt, wet sopping sounds coming from your core. Using his elbows, you felt how he spread your legs further. His fingers kept pumping, twisting and curling deep inside, while his tongue still worked on your cock. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked, nipped, and licked until you were seeing stars.

Your body twitched, your cunt clamping down on nothing - the bastard had retracted his fingers before you had fully come. You growled at him, hands holding him in place, but he looked up at you. Not with a smirk – as you had expected – but with a questioning gaze.

He wiped his lips with the back of his hands, moving with just enough strength to push himself up. Your knees fell as closed as they could, clamping against his chest. Unfortunately, you had to let go of him and your hands dropped to your sides. You gazed up at him through the haze of your orgasm, wondering if this was all he needed from you tonight. You hoped not.

“I’m not done with you yet, pretty boy,” Arthur murmured, placing a hand on your knee and spreading your legs anew. You saw how his dark eyes drifted to your core, studying the mess he had created with his fingers by bringing you to climax.

Finally, his lips curved into a smirk.

“Well, would you look at that?” How could he sound so calm and collected when his own cock was throbbing against his own belly? He was hard, his cock pouring liquid from the tip – eager to be milked dry.

He seemed to study your wet cunt and traced the juices that had come out with his index finger before bringing the digit up to his lips and tracing it past them, leaving behind a glossy shine. His tongue darted out, deliberately slow.

“Hmm,” he hummed, as if he had just tasted an aphrodisiac that was too delicious to ignore.

Then his hands were back upon your thighs, spreading them wide.

Yes, your mind provided you. Yes, and again. You wanted him inside, needed him desperately to claim you over and over, to show you pleasure yet again.

“Seems like you ruined my couch,” his eyes darted up to meet yours, “again.”

“You’d have it no other way,” you said defiantly, uncaring about the wet spot created by your mixed juices - it wasn't the first time, after all. You allowed him to pry your legs a little wider so he could move in between them and studied the way his hair fell down his face, how stray strands fell in front of his eyes and clung to his still wet lips - shining with the gloss of your juices.

He positioned himself above you, his gaze locking onto yours. The intensity in his eyes took your breath away.

"Tell me," he commanded, his voice soft but insistent. His arms trembled from carrying his own weight, mindful not to crush you. His cold bracelets pressed against your skin, a reminder of who it was who was going to fuck you - hard. "Tell me you need me."

"I need you," you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper, hoarse and oh-so full of desire. "I need you now, Arthur."

It was all he had to hear. The tip of his cock sought its way between your folds, fingertips guiding him in. His hips dipped as he slowly pushed forth, parting your silken walls, stretching you wide.

"Good boy," he praised, his lips curling into a smile. “Here’s your reward.”

He entered you slowly but easily – you were still wet and slightly trembling from your previous orgasm. His movements were deliberate and controlled. You gasped at the sensation, your hands gripping the couch tightly. Pleasure started to build almost instantly, and you found yourself lost in the rhythm he set.

"Such a good boy," he repeated, his voice a soothing balm. "Taking me so well."

And you did. You gazed between your legs, watching as his hard veined cock – covered in your combined juices – slowly moved in and out of you, pumping a steady rhythm. The scales on his right forearm tipped wildly from side to side, never resting and never deciding.

You threw your head back again, feeling his pulsing cock stretch your walls, the veins on his shaft throbbing. He was adding pressure until he bottomed out inside you and you felt every ridge and vein and clawed at his back while you gasped for air.

"Arthur," you moaned, your body arching beneath him. He filled you up just the right way. As if he were made for this - as if you were made for him.

His hands curled around your legs, holding them, positioning them for him to be able to move smoothly, hitting that spot deep inside that made the sopping sounds worse and the sparks of pleasure inside your core alight with electricity. Your own cock was pressed against Arthur’s skin, stimulated by the hairs that nestled above his cock as he moved in and out of you.

You bit your lip, toes curling and fingers tugging at his shoulders, urging him close.

"Yes, love," he cooed, his thrusts steady and powerful. "Just like that."

The room filled with the sounds of your shared ecstasy, a symphony of devotion and desire. Wet, lewd, sinful. Each stroke, each caress, brought you closer to the edge. You felt his strokes deep inside, the ease with which his hard cock slid in and out of your fluttering hole. Your walls were clamping down, begging more. His strong hands were on your hips, his usually bright eyes now clouded with lust as he stared at the spot where both of you connected with sopping wet sounds.

So good, your mind provided as you curled your back in delight. So darn good.

You grasped his shoulders tighter, surprised when his own hands left your hips to pull your arms away and pin them to your sides. A guttural growl escaped his lips, primal and raw, as he put pressure on your wrists.

In this position he was in full command, controlling every movement with his hips and his grip. He kept you pinned down, forcing his hips tighter against yours, thrusting harsher, more powerful.

You watched the little beads of sweat drip down his forehead, sliding past his nose. The way his hair clung to his face, or how his lips were parted in raspy moans and gasps. His gaze intense as he watched your expression.

He was in charge, exerting his power over you in ways that your body effortlessly embraced, swallowing him up - both the squelching noises of his cock thrusting in and out of you, as well as the way you hungrily accepted the kiss from his lips when he leaned forward and begged for entrance. You obliged, parting your lips so his tongue could slip between them, and kissed him back just as eagerly, battling his tongue with your own until you sucked him in hard enough to hear him moan.

His dominance was a comforting weight, grounding you in the moment while he held your wrists pinned down. His thrusts grew harder, more punishing, as his lips broke away from yours.

He sat up, hips still forcefully meeting your own, and grunted. His hands wandered up your chest, but you kept your wrists where he had held them pinned. Allowing him to dominate you, to fully conquer what you were so willing to give him.

"You're mine," he growled, his pace quickening, hands pushing you down to the couch possessively.

"Yours," you echoed, your voice breathless. You were close. So, so terribly close to coming. Again.

"Good boy," he praised, his fingers finding your lips and pressing against them till you tasted the heady mixture of your juices on your tongue. "Always mine."

"Always," you agreed, a muffled word against his fingers that smelled of arousal and sex. Your body trembled with pleasure as his fingertips left your lips and slid down your body till he grasped your hips fully again.

"Mine," he murmured, his tone softening. "Let's finish this."

"Arthur," you cried out, the intensity of your emotions overwhelming as he hit that delicious spot deep inside. It sent you over the edge, little white sparks clouding your vision. Your back arched, chest pressed up against him as your orgasm surged through you, body trembling, walls clasping him tightly, milking him for all you were worth.

"Shh," he soothed, his movements never faltering. "I've got you."

But you had already tumbled over the edge, muscles tensing with bliss. Your orgasm washed over you while Arthur rocked his hips against yours, chasing his own release.

You clung to him, your body surrendering completely to his will.

"Perfect," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "You're perfect."

Another peak was building. How could it? So soon after you just came a second time? But you were babbling nonsense now, just pleading and begging for Arthur to give it to you. You lost yourself in the sensations, the world narrowing down to just the two of you. His dominance, his strength, his love – they were all-encompassing. You were his, and he was yours, bound together in a dance of power and devotion.

His hips stuttered and you felt his release. Hot cum flooded your insides, warm and wet and so, so good.

"Mine," he whispered, his voice a promise. "Always mine to pleasure and to hold."

His thumb found your cock, thumbing it, giving it just the right pressure and friction to have you crawl in pleasure underneath him until you were spasming around him once more. A third orgasm wrecked through you. A cry escaped your lips, joined by a low groan from his lips.

"Good boy," he praised one last time, his voice a gentle caress. "My good boy."

Your body twitched underneath him, spent and exhausted. Yet, you found the energy to smile up at him. A lust-filled, enamored smile that left him feeling weak and breathless.

"Perfect," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “So incredibly perfect for me.”

His hand caressed your cheek, coarse fingertips brushing past your skin reverently. You didn't even mind that his fingers were still covered with your combines juices. It felt claiming, in some way.

You felt the sporadic pulsing of his cock deep inside. It was twitching less and less, slowly growing limp inside of you as he came down from his high. His leg pressed down over yours, knees touching.

"I prefer you like this,” he murmured, his voice soft and tender. “Just as you are."

A blush might have crept up your cheeks – you weren’t sure. But his words had hit something deep inside of you. All the insecurities, all the struggles, you could forget everything when you were in his arms.

You felt his cock go soft, slipping out of your core with a wet sound that made both of you chuckle. Arthur raised a brow at you, and you half expected for him to pull away and get dressed again. But he didn’t. Instead, he maneuvered his body next to yours, scooping you in his arms like a big spoon. His legs pressed between yours as you lay entwined, your bodies slick with sweat and satisfaction. Arthur's breath was warm against your shoulder, his arms wrapped securely around you.

He pressed a gentle kiss to your skin, his lips lingering as if savoring the moment.

"Sweetheart," he murmured, his voice soft and tender. "You are just right. Right for me, and right for Ammit. But mostly, right for yourself."

He must have heard the deep breath you were drawing or have felt the way your hands tensed where you had gripped his wrists, for you felt him move against you. “You’re just the kind of right for me. And,” here he paused and you could hear how he lowered his voice, a playful tint to it. “That says a lot as I am a man with many needs.”

You blushed, the heat rising to your cheeks at his words. "I'm happy," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "Happy to be who I am now. And where I am."

"Good," he replied, his tone filled with genuine affection. "That's all I've ever wanted for you."

You basked in the afterglow, contentment washing over you like a warm embrace. In Arthur's arms, you felt whole, complete.

The two of you rested in silence, Arthur’s lips hovered over your shoulder, placing deliberate and soft kisses on your skin. Each kiss – though as light as a feather – carried something possessive, the urge to claim you. Like he was branding you as his.

"Celibate, huh?" you teased between kisses, your fingers threading through his graying hair. "Some of your followers would get a heart attack if they knew what happened behind these doors."

He chuckled against your lips, the sound vibrating through you. "They'll never know," he murmured, his voice a soft rumble. "To them, I am nothing but their chaste leader." His eyes sparkled with mischief as he pulled back slightly, giving you a moment to catch your breath.

"Chaste, my ass," you shot back playfully, a grin spreading across your face. You trailed your fingers down his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath beneath your touch.

"They'll never know how truly powerful you are." The words were a whisper from your lips.

Arthur's expression softened, and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer. His breath was hot against your ear as he whispered, "It doesn't matter if the others never see the full me. The only ones who need to know the true me are Ammit,” here he paused, breath stuttering. “And you."

His lips brushed the shell of your ear, sending a thrill through you. "You are important to me."

A rush of emotion welled up inside you, overwhelming and all-consuming. In that moment, you felt more connected to Arthur than ever before. His words, his touch, his presence. Everything about him made you feel cherished and significant.

"Arthur," you breathed, your voice thick with emotion. You knew you'd go to the end of the world with him and back, if that was what he wanted. What he needed. You'd do it all for him. "I..."

"Shh," he hushed you gently, pressing a finger to your lips. "Stay close to me today," he said, his voice carrying an undercurrent of concern. "I need your presence."

"Always," you promised, your heart swelling with emotion.

For a moment longer, you remained in his embrace.

~ * ~

[transfemme-shelterdog]

One of Many Experiences with Transandrophobia (TW: Medical Trauma):

Went to a Planned Parenthood clinic because I was told it was a 'safe' place for trans people to access care. At the time it was the ONLY place in my town and within 75 miles that trans people could access care.

Had an appointment for a pap smear, which PP said I HAD to have done before I could get an HRT appointment. Had been assured that the clinic was very up to date on working with trans clients. Had been very clear about my gender identity and my overall discomfort with having a pap smear done due to previous sexual trauma.

Appointment started off normal, until it suddenly wasn't. The OBGYN decided it was the perfect time while she was poking around and up in my body to start talking about how "beautiful the female reproductive system is", and starts talking, in vivid detail, about how my genitalia looked, and how healthy it was, and how it would be such a shame for me to ruin it with transition, and how atrophy would make sex painful for me, and how I wouldn't be able to have children if I did the unthinkable and got a hysterotomy.

It was so incredibly triggering, and I was frozen for the rest of the appointment because I felt incapable to doing anything since I was up in the stirrups and in a vulnerable position. This woman knew I had trauma she still fucking pulled that shit on me. To this day, I still feel like she did what she did to me because of my trauma - like she thought doing this would be a sure fire way to get me to not want to transition.

I tried lodging complains about the experience about a week after that happened, but the complaints went nowhere. I was told I must have "misunderstood" what I'd been told, and MAYBE it was because of my previous sexual trauma, or MORE LIKELY I'd been dysphoric during the appointment so I clearly must be remembering in wrong! And after getting gaslit about it so hard, I've never had an exam since. I'd honestly rather get surprise cancer and have that take me than ever experience something so gross and demeaning again.

To add insult to injury: When I tried talking about the experience at the local trans support group (where it was totally normal to talk about discrimination members experienced) I got shut down because the group was 6 trans women to 2 trans men on that particular day and they had a vote on if I could talk about it, and the vote ended up 6 against 2. I was told that as a man, it wasn't okay to talk about that particular type of medical trauma, because only the women in the room were allowed to talk about medical trauma around their genitalia.

I ended up dropping out of that 'support' group because it was clear there was no actual support available for trans men in attendance - we were expected to be good listeners and to support the trans women in attendance unconditionally, but not to talk about our personal lived experiences if they were negative - we could only talk about the happy, twee things! So validating! /s

I also came to find out later that the PP location I went to predominately worked with trans women - MTF HRT was made available about 5 years before they started selectively doing FTM HRT (that's a whole other story) - and after comparing notes with a few other guys, came to realize the handful of us trans men that went there were treated like freaks.

I would like to think that time passing would have made it possible to talk about this, as it happened to me in 2017, but over the years when I've attempted to discuss issues trans men have accessing medical care and the trauma we can experience trying to do so, and use this example as shit I've experienced that should never happen, I STILL get shut down.

I've been made fun of, told "that didn't actually happen", or my transness and/or my identity as man gets questioned/belittled/turned into a joke by both trans and cis women. I had one lesbian (a former friend now for fucking good reason) joke that "maybe she (the OGBYN) thought you were a lesbian and was trying to hit on you!"

Same thing has happened when attempting to talk about sexual assault and intimate partner violence - talking about/admitting to having that experience has gotten pointed to as me being a "man trying to talk over women's experiences", or as a "sign" I'm not ACTUALLY a man, because those things don't happen to men.

So when people say that trans men don't need a term to talk about the kinds of shit we deal with that is unique to our identities and experiences, and they mock us for using the term "transandrophobia"?

I want to spit bullets.

(Cue the haters saying I'm a monster and 'dangerous violent man' for saying so.)

.