#i usually think of girls or feminity

[cepheusgalaxy]

Trying to figure out what exactly lesboy means since this word gives me a stupid amount of euphoria, but i'm not sure about it since im not really like. A lesbian

[pickled-flowers]

I wonder what about me, a trans man with boobs, make people think I don't experience misogyny 🤔

[satoriberry]

complaining about radical feminism bc even though it has a lot of good points, a lot are also very bad part idk what!!!

what the fuck is up with radfems literally seething when they learn that a member of their ideology has a GASPPPPP boyfriend!!! even worse A HUSBAND???? and oh my god can you imagine!!! A CHILD!!!! like what the fuck?? and yes i knowwww its bc blah blah blah inspirations taken from the 4B thing that came out of china and south korea, where the fundamental principles of their feminism is not having any sort of relations with a man nor having any children with one because marriage is a patriarchal institution (when it's a hetero marriage), and giving birth will systematically subjugate a women as mothers ar every handicapped societally and aren't treated fairly.

see im not denying that straight marriage has some dicey elements and that moms get a LOTTTT of shit from society. but why is it that women are shamed for their heterosexuality when it's not something they can control?? like i'm sorry but if a lady wants to marry a dude and have children with him it's literally her choice and if she doesnt thats fine too?? like they start calling her "male-centered" and justify the criticism she's facing which is nuts bc what the fuck do you mean she's male-centered do you hear the words that come out of your mouth?? what the fuck do you mean straight women need to be critical of their attraction to men!!! my brother why are you creating comphet 2.0 but for straight women!!!! this idea that women will be defiled with patriarchy germs if they come into any sort of romantic/sexual contact with a man genuinely feels like the flipside of purity culture but for "feminist" reasons and also it's like the cousin of political lesbianism which is the antithesis of "sexual orientation is uncontrollable".

"participating in male culture" and it's having a boyfriend BE FOR REAL!!! this is such a western concept to me as well bc in many eastern cultures young women have like little to no say when they're faced with the prospect of arranged marriage, and so the fact that you degenerates are complaining about VOLUNTARY marriage in modern societies whereas young girls in other countries don't have that kind of choice is!!! insane!!!! i have so much more to say about this but that's enough for today ig :333

[allsortzofcrap]

i feel like for the rest of my life i will be walking around totally normal and then periodically, i will be absolutely brained with a metaphorical anvil falling off the side of a building that represents the absolute bafflement i have towards modern adaptations of sherlock holmes and their treatment of irene adler. bbc's most recent adaptation in particular.

im so sorry. please repeat. she was stupid u say??? and i'm sorry, IN LOVE with him u say??????

i'm a feminist so i think women are capable of being in love and also of being stupid. they can do anything they put their minds to ofc ❤️. but this is too far even for me.

it's just that i can't understand why you would choose to write a narrative that is more mysoginistic than the source material when the source material was written in 1891.

was it intentional? did they somehow not pick up on the implications? was it random?

i can't fathom it. it keeps me awake.

[tomboyyyaoi]

o i wanted to make a post that im honestly not smart enough to actually sit down and think out but i like the way meryls trauma doesnt completely woobify her character but does still affect her, it just feels nice to see a female charcater not be completely reduced to a wet soggy mess bc of trauma but also not to (very unrealistically) just Get Over It i think trigun has a nice balance and its refreshing

[dorkszn]

7 MINUTES IN HELL + satoru gojo

SYNP — getting stuck with your ex-boyfriend during a dumb game of seven minutes in hell heaven

WARNINGS — amab reader, dom!top!reader, sub!bottom!gojo, brat gojo, porn w plot, forced proximity, pet names, dunk sex, drinking, smoking (weed), closet sex, fingering, orgasm denial, anal sex, college au, implied commitment issues, implied toxic relationship, gojo’s kinda an asshole, degradation, creampie, minor feminization | 3.8K words

A/N — my first time writing top reader i think 🥹🥹 I’m actually so proud of this

Everyone knows when and why the two of you broke up. If you can even call it a breakup. It was more of a tear-filled yelling session between a pair of friends with benefits. That’s how he described it. One where Satoru ended up walking out your front door and you dropped onto your couch with angry tears in your eyes.

Nobody questioned you guys afterward though. Suguru kept quiet, listening to Satoru whenever he ranted. Shoko sat beside you, sharing a cigarette and takeout with you. Haibara kept his usual self, forcing everyone into group activities. And Nanami who kept to himself, per usual.

The house was full to the brim of loud, drunk college students. Music blaring and the stench of alcohol intoxicated every inch of the air. Your typical party. Some people play beer pong in the basement of the home you knew all too well, some make out in the corners and crevices, and some dance with their friends in the middle of the living room you’d hung out in many times.

Haibara wasn’t particularly known for his parties but he had thrown a few good ones in the past few months. Some you had attended and some you decided to miss out on. You couldn’t miss this one though. No matter how badly you wished you could. Shoko dragged you here because she couldn’t say no to Haibara’s invitation. Which for some reason meant that you couldn’t say no either.

Currently, you stand in the kitchen, leaning against the counter as a girl you recognize as a lower classman speaks to you. “But yeah, Mr. Yaga is just—“ her words are interrupted by a small hiccup. “Such an asshole, you know? And I don’t even have his class!” She’s been stumbling and stammering the whole conversation but for some reason, she’s one of the only bearable people here.

“Ain’t that the truth,” You blandly chuckle, sipping at your drink and emptying your red solo cup. “Be right back.” You tell her through the boisterous tune playing through the house. You slide past a few people to make your way to the fridge.

You open it and let the cool air abduct you. A nice break from the stuffiness of the crowd. An arrangement of alcohol sits in front of you. Your gaze runs through it, trying to pick whatever stands out. A singular white claw catches your attention. You reach for it only to be interrupted by another’s hand grabbing it.

“What the he—“ you whip around to face the thief. Of course, it’s this bastard. White hair and black, circular sunglasses greet you along with a stupid signature grin.

“Oops, did you want this?” Satoru hums. He cracks the can open and takes a dragged-out sip of it. You roll your eyes at his typical antics, shutting the fridge.

“Fuck off, Gojo.” You scoff.

“Ow, last name basis, baby?” He hums, drinking from the can once more. You feel your blood beginning to boil in your veins. You push past him, knocking him back ever so slightly with the force.

“Don’t call me that.” You grumble. You make your way to the basement where you know Haibara would have more alcohol. Gojo chuckles and trails behind you.

“We’re playing some games upstairs if you wanna join.” He offers. You glance back at him with narrow eyes.

“With you? No thanks.” You hum, jogging down the stairs. A cup pong game runs in the large basement, a crowd building around it. The well-known jocks stand in the middle, being hyped up by their teammate.

You hold a prolonged stare at one of the jocks. He’d always caught your eye. “Really? Jocks don’t give a good fuck. I know they seem like it but they don’t.” Gojo suddenly speaks up again.

“Do you ever stop and think that some people want more than a fuck-buddy?” You hiss, turning to look back at the man. He gives you a softer look. Your past flashed through his mind. He sits in silence. You sigh and continue to the box of beer in the corner of the room. You grab a can and crack it open.

“Go find something to do, Gojo.” You mumble, leaving him in the basement.

An hour or two and a few more drinks in, you find yourself watching a UNO game running at Haibara’s dining table. Utahime sits in front of you, holding three cards in her hand. She might be the only other person that Gojo irritates more than you. A focused aura surrounds her, keeping you just a foot away from her.

“You got money on this game?” You ask her, glancing over her cards through slightly hazy eyes.

“Of course she does. As do I,” Another voice speaks up. Mei Mei sits just one seat away from Utahime, she holds just two cards in her hand. You can’t help but chuckle. Of course. Utahime is too competitive for her good and Mei Mei is one of the freakiest gold diggers ever.

Suddenly a hand lands on your shoulder. You turn at the weight and see Shoko. She holds up a plastic ziploc bag, with a small bundle of green inside of it. “Holy shit, Sho.” You slightly gasp with a grin.

The woman smirks back at you. “Found out my guy was here. Plus it was free, beat him in Smash Brothers for it.” She explains. If there was anyone to count on to find something to smoke, it was Shoko.

“Wanna go up? I hear Yu’s room is open.” She questions, gesturing to the stairs. You nod and give Utahime an encouraged pat on the shoulder. You and Shoko find your way through the crowd, squeezing past people kissing, and dancing. You finally make it to the stairs where two students sit at the bottom, one sitting in the other lap. Everyone’s gonna feel like shit on Monday.

You somehow make it up the stairs and follow Shoko’s guide. You find your friend’s room but Shoko stops you before you can open the door. “Don’t freak out, okay? I know that’s unlike you but still.” She murmurs.

You shoot her a confused look before shrugging. “Okay?”

Shoko nods and grabs the knob, opening the door. Haibara’s bedroom looks how it usually does. Suguru and Gojo sit on the bed, sharing a bag of chips between the two of them. Haibara is on the floor beside Nanami, running a game of shogi. You look over at Shoko and she furrows her brows. You sigh.

“Hey, I found y/n.” She hums to the group before closing the door behind the two of you. You awkwardly wave to your group of friends and join Shoko on the floor against the wall.

“Y/n, will you tell Kento that this can't move diagonally?" Yu huffs, showing you one of the game pieces.

“You know I don’t know how to play shogi.” You reply. Yu facepalms before nodding and turning back to the blonde. You watch as Shoko quickly works to roll the weed into the paper. You think she could do this in her sleep if she tried.

When done, she passes you the blunt and reaches for her lighter. “Shit.” You hear her mumble.

“Suguru, got a lighter?” You ask, focusing your gaze on him and only him. You see Gojo watching you out of the corner of your eye but ignore him. Suguru digs through the pockets of his baggy sweatpants, finding his old-fashioned flick lighter. He tosses it to you and you catch it in your right hand.

Shoko cups her hand around the flame as you hold it to the paper. It lights and you shut the lighter. Gojo’s staring at you, you can feel it. You place it between your lips and tuck the lighter in your pocket. You look back at him as you take a drag of the drug. You pass it to Shoko and gently blow out the smoke.

Gojo’s face flushes a soft pink before he turns his attention back to Suguru.

“Oh my god!” Haibara suddenly outbursts. You all turn to look at him. “Ok! Ok! Let’s play something else.” He seethes, frustration written on his face.

“Jeez, grab a beer, dude,” Shoko says, blowing smoke out from her lips.

“What d’you wanna play?” Gojo hums, clearly amused by the idea. Haibara ponders for a moment before his eyes settle on a hat on top of his dresser.

“I have an idea,” he smirks. He stands and grabs the hat then a piece of paper and a marker.

“I don’t like this.” Nanami groans, dragging a hand down his face. While Yu begins ripping up the photo, the door bursts open. An angry Utahime and a grinning Mei Mei enter.

“How’d the game go?” You hum, turning to the two girls. Utahime simply glares at you and you smile back.

“I ran her pockets of course,” Mei answers with a smug grin. Before Utahime can remark, Yu calls out.

“Ok! Everyone write their name on a piece of paper and put it in the hat,” Haibara tells you all, handing everyone a small piece of paper and Suguru a pen.

“We’re not children, Yu-Bara,” Shoko scoffs.

“Exactly. That’s why we’re playing big games,” he says excitedly. “Spin the bottle and seven minutes in heaven.” Everyone groans or sighs at his antics, except for Gojo. He laughs.

Reluctantly, you all scribble your names down and drop the folded papers within the hat. You all form a circle in the middle of Haibara’s room floor. Shoko on your right, Kento to your left, and the white-haired bastard across from you.

An empty beer bottle is placed in the middle of the circle. “Let’s keep this fun, guys. No fighting or arguing, alright?” Yu hums. You all nod and he grabs the bottle. It spins rapidly between you all. Everyone’s eyes trained on it. The bottle comes to a slow before stopping, the mouth of the bottle pointing at you.

A cloud of smoke leaves you with a sigh. “Of course.” You mutter. Yu then replaces the bottle with the hat of names. You look at the antsy expressions on your friends' faces before closing your eyes. Your fingers shuffle through the papers then grab one.

A combined “ouuuu” from Haibara, Gojo, and Mei Mei fills the room as you open your eyes. You roll your eyes at their childishness. Slowly, you open the small piece of paper.

‘Satoru ;)’

You’ve got to be fucking kidding. Your facial expression must’ve given away your thoughts because everyone stares at you oddly. Shoko leans over and reads the sheet. “Oh shit.” She gasps slightly.

You look up to meet blue eyes then flip the paper around for everyone to see. Numerous reactions leave the group. But you focus on the grin that covers Gojo’s face. “Well, isn’t it your lucky day?” He quips. He stands and holds his hand out to you. You take one last drag of the blunt before standing and ignoring his assistance.

“Sure is,” you mumble, smoke flowing through your words. Yu trails behind the two of you to the closet. You walk in first, Gojo following.

“Be nice guys! Have fun!” He waves with a taunting grin before shutting the door. You hear him push a chair up in front of it, preventing your escape. “Your seven minutes start now!” He yells, his voice slightly muffled by the door.

You hesitate through the darkness, trying to space yourself away from Gojo. “Just stay on your side for the next 7 minutes and we’ll be fine.” You sigh. Gojo pulls out his phone and turns on the flash, shining the bright light at you.

You wince at the light and put a hand up to shield your eyes. “You see the space we got? There aren’t any sides, sweetheart.” He scoffs, showing you the minimal space of the closet. He stands just about a foot and a half away from you. The proximity almost made your skin crawl.

“Why are you such an asshole?” You question, dragging a hand over your face.

“I don’t know, sweetheart. Most people disagree with you, y’know?” Satoru hums, flashing you a grin.

“Don’t call me that,” you hiss again. “Plus, most of those people don’t know you.”

“You didn’t seem to mind it the first time,” he snickers and you glare at him. “Besides, are you implying that you know me?”

“No, I thought I did but clearly not.” You grumble, folding your arms over your chest. Satoru ever-so-slightly frowns at this.

“C’mon man, it was just a misunderstanding,” Satoru sighs, pushing his snowy hair out of his face. A misunderstanding was a severe understatement. You couldn’t tell if it was the closet or the alcohol in your system but anger began to fuel your body. “And it’s not my fault you were naive.” He adds.

Before you can think about it, you’re grabbing his shirt and shoving him against the closet wall. His phone falls to the floor with a soft thud, the light illuminating the closet from the ground. Satoru swallows and looks at you with wide eyes. His hand grips your wrist.

“Sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to get you all worked up,” he apologizes with a smirk, gently tapping at your wrist. This bastard.

“I can’t fucking stand you, Satoru.” You seethe, bringing your face close to his. You didn’t want the others to hear and think something was going on.

“You say that and you still haven’t found anyone better than me,” The male replies, putting the two of you just inches apart. A sudden warmth surrounds you, your heart pounding in your ears. “You know you love how I make you feel.” He whispers.

He wasn’t wrong there. Every fuck after him just felt dull and you were left feeling bad for whoever you were with. And nobody pushes your buttons quite like Satoru does. Nobody makes you feel like he does. And you hate it.

“Fuck you,” you finally stammer out with a shaky breath. He lets out a low chuckle.

“You miss that, don’t you?” Satoru murmurs, his grin just inches away from your lips. You’d like to blame the alcohol for your next actions. But both of you know, your mind and body were craving the man in front of you. He was addicting.

You finally took him into a rough kiss, pulling a small sound from him. His lips feel so natural against yours. They feel no different than a few months ago. The two of you move so knowingly with each other, lips in sync. Satoru’s hands grip your shirt, slightly pulling at the fabric. One of your hands finds his waist while the other makes its way to his hair.

You tug on the snowy tufts, pulling a wince from the man’s throat. You slip your tongue past his lips, taking in every inch of him for the first time in a while. Your mind has every part of him engraved in it but your body longs to re-explore him once more. The taste of alcohol lingers on his tongue, matching yours.

You want to breathe him in more. Use him as your oxygen source instead of the small air supply of the closet. However, you pull on his hair once more and pull away from him. A string of saliva connecting the two of you. Your chest heaves up and down, pressing against his. You wonder if he can feel your racing heart.

“Missed you too, baby—“

“Shut up.” You say, voice stern. You pull at his belt with one hand, the other wrapping around his throat. Satoru lets out a weak groan as you undo his belt buckle. You move to his pants until they’re both loose around his waist. The waistband of his boxers reveals itself, as well as the slight bulge in the cotton.

You don’t loosen your grip on his neck when you lift two fingers to his lips. “Get 'em’ wet.” You mumble to him. Your fingers slip past his shining, pink lips and into his mouth. His tongue pressed against your fingerpads before swirling around your digits.

Satoru’s eyes stare straight into yours over the edge of his sunglasses. You feel your dick slightly twitch in your pants, making you swallow harshly. “So you do listen,” you hum. You pull your fingers out with a small ‘pop’ from him.

“When I want to—“ his words are interrupted again when you turn him around, his back facing you. You make quick work of pulling down his pants and boxers. Satoru’s back naturally arches when the cold air hits his skin.

You snicker in response with a small hiccup. “You’re such a slut, Toru,” you tell him as you reveal his hole to you.

“Shut the hell up.” He replies, his words breaking down into a moan when you spit on his entrance and push two fingertips past the ring of muscle. You push your fingers further, prodding at his walls.

“Shit, has anyone stretched you out since me? You feel exactly how I left you.” You grin cockily. Satoru grumbles curses in response and rolls his eyes. You scissor and part your fingers inside of him, stealing lewd noises from the man.

“Yeah… tons, guys way better than you.” Satoru pants, a faltering smile on his face as he glances back at you. You lean forward and bite down on the sensitive spot of his neck. His cry is like music to your ears, making you smirk against his skin. Your tongue laps over the reddening spot as your hand moves to his mouth, covering it with your palm.

“Quiet down, will you? Everyone already knows you’re a whore,” you hiss. You feel Satoru tighten around you, making you groan and his eyes roll. He’s close. “Gonna cum already?” You hum, quickening the pace of your fingers. Your digits curling inside of him.

“Ngh— fuck off,” Satoru mumbles, slightly moving his hips to fuck himself on your fingers. But you pull away, watching his entrance clench around nothing. A small gasp escapes the man. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He examines, turning his head to look back at you with a deep glare.

You scoff before reaching for your belt. “Nothing nearly as bad as whatever is wrong with you.” You reply, undoing your belt buckle and your pants zipper. You pull down your boxers that are slightly stained with your precum. Satoru swallows as he looks down at your growing erection, mouth practically salivating at the sight. A hungry lustful look in his bright blue eyes.

You tease Satoru’s entrance with your tip, just barely pushing into him and pressing kisses to the ring of muscle. Satoru lets out an annoyed whine, his hips squirming and pushing back against you. You groan when he desperately grinds against your length. “C’mon, just put it in.” He pleads.

“Such a needy boy,” you murmur. You push into him and his eyes roll back in his head as your cock fills him. Your breath shakes as it passes your lips, his walls tighten around your length. So warm and holding you just right. “Fuck Toru, you’re so tight.” You hiss in his ear, pressing a kiss against the skin.

“Just fuck me already.” He scoffs weakly, his chest slightly heaving against the closet walls. You wrap a hand around his throat and grip his hip with the other, your fingertips surely bruising where they sit. You pull out of him agonizingly slowly, taking inch by inch away from Satoru.

You then slam back into him to the hilt, a choked whimper leaving him. “Not such an arrogant bastard anymore.” You murmur before picking up your pace again. His muffled sounds don’t go unheard as you focus on the way your cock disappears into the plump flesh of his ass.

A harsh clap echoed throughout the closet with every collision of your hips. “agh— sweetheart, s’too good.” Satoru pants, hands clawing at whatever fabric was closest to him.

“Yeah? Who fucks you the best?” You hum, relentlessly as you buck your hips forward. Your leaking tip punctuating every time you hit that certain spot inside him. A spot you’d never forget.

“Shit, you do. You fuck me the best.” The snow-haired male whimpers. You shift your hand around his throat, pulling him right against you. A pornographic moan erupts from his throat. A noise everyone outside the closet definitely heard. Two of your fingers find their place in Satoru’s mouth again, pressing down on his tongue.

“Shh. Don’t want everyone to hear how much you love my dick, right?” You coo, running your tongue along the exposure of his neck. A muffled “mhm-mhm” leaves Satoru as his tongue focuses on your fingers occupying his mouth.

However, this can’t distract from the feeling of slamming into him. Spreading him apart and filling every centimeter of his insides, reaching sensitive spots he never knew even existed. The feeling of Satoru’s hand pushing against your abdomen doesn’t even register in your mind for seconds as you get lost in his cunt.

You take hold of his wrist and move it off of your flushed skin. “Take it, Toru. You know you can.”

“Can’t, m’fucking— gonna cum.” He babbles.

“Yeah? Go ahead, cum around my cock. Make a mess for me.” You tell him through a smug grin. Your hand drags down from his mouth to his dick, wrapping around it and pumping him to the rhythm of your thrust.

“Fuck, baby, missed you so so much.” Satoru groans before ropes of cum spurt from his tip. His eyes squeeze shut so tight and his body trembles against you. His seed coating your hand and fingers.

“So fucking sloppy.” You mewl, feeling your balls clench as you stuff yourself into Satoru to the hilt. You bite down on his neck as you release in him, stuffing him to the brim with your cum.

A weak whine pulls from Satoru when you finally pull your teeth out of his neck and lap your tongue over the spot.

The two of you sit in your mess, the smell of sex and sweat intoxicating the small space. You can feel Satoru’s heart racing in his chest. You just sit for a moment until you go limp within him before pulling out. Satoru leans against the closet wall, lips glossy with spit and eyes hazed over with lust.

Suddenly, he gives you a weak grin. And you can’t help but drunkenly smile back. Idiot. You glance down and see your cum beginning to dribble out of him. Satoru grunts when you push a finger into him, assuring your seeds place inside of him.

“Missed you too, baby.”

[trannycabal]

Trans Men, the afterthought of the LGBT.

Think of the world "LGBT" in your mind. What flashes through? I see a quick rifling through four people like a slideshow... a chubby cis gay guy, a tall cis lesbian with killer eyeliner, a short cis girl with a kooky hairstyle, and a trans woman. What she looks like varies every time, but 90% of cases I think of a girl. Even as a trans man myself whose trans friends are like two-thirds trans men, the first thing I think of when I hear the word "trans" is usually a trans woman. When hear HRT? Estrogen. When hear SRS? Vaginoplasty.

And that's not a coincidence... because trans guys don't dominate any trans spaces unless it's specifically labelled an ftm-only space. I've seen trans women themselves point out that trans boy spaces are labelled as "ftm" while trans girl spaces are labelled "trans". No "fem" or "girl" or "woman" anywhere in the name - just "trans".

Think of trans rep on TV. Trans people are already incredibly underrepresented - but on the rare occasion we do get shown onscreen, it's always someone MTF. I could give a million examples - but there are already many people who've said the exact same thing and doing so at this point would be redundant.

Think of spaces that say "This is for females ONLY" (sometimes they say "women" but really mean "cis women"). Nobody ever thinks of the trans men who might find themselves in a position to need that resource (such as homeless shelters) who will invariably be denied because TERFs hate trans men too and despite whatever they claim, they do not actually see us as girls. The response to "female-only spaces" is "but what about trans women". Which is GOOD! It should keep being a response! It should keep raising questions! It should, however, not be the only question we're asking here!

Think of "women's health" issues. Even then, the conversation around inclusive language always revolves around "but some girls don't do that because they're trans" (which is a good thing on its own but it's not good as an exclusive variant) and not "but some people do that and aren't girls because they're trans". Even in conversations about uteruses and everything they revolve, it's always centred around "but not all women" instead of "not all are women".

Lastly, think of radical feminism. Think of so-called internet "misandrists". Think of how many times you've seen one, whether cis or trans, ever include the word "cis" in their classic "all men" posts. Never? Exactly. And when you call them out on it, their response is almost always some kind of variant of "well you know that's not what I meant". And it's true most times, they didn't mean it; they forgot it. Forgot about us. Like every single time, they forget we see these things and feel hurt. They forget we're there. To them, we might as well be a flower on the wall.

Anyway. Just wanted to type this out because it's been bouncing around my head for a while. Happy late trans visibility day. Not only this week but for the rest of your life I want you to listen to and amplify trans men's voices; they need it.

[sereia4skz]

soo femdom reader fucking subby felix from behind against a wall... perhaps some feminization, mommy kink, lots of begging I don't usually send requests but I discovered you through your 1k event and you've very quickly become my fav writer on this app so I thought I give it a try

oneshot | my pretty girl

pairing: sub!felix x reader

genre: smut

warnings: feminization, mommy kink, unprotected sex, praise & degradation, begging, pegging (strap)

word count:

masterlist: A-Side (texts) | B-Side (written)

Felix trembles as you bring him to the wall. His knees buckle the moment you pull your strap from the drawer, but you don't let him drop, not yet. Not until he sees himself.

“Look how pretty you are,” you whisper against the shell of his ear, hand tangled in the soft blond curls you’ve so carefully brushed out earlier. “Stockings nice and snug. Garter clipped perfectly. And this little thing-” You tug gently on the satin bow at the front of his pink lace panties, the ones soaked through from his teasing earlier. “So ready to be ruined.”

“Mommy…” His voice breaks, needy and syrup-sweet, flushed cheeks lit with shame and desire.

You turn him to face the full-length mirror, pressing his palms to the wall beside it. “Keep your hands there, baby. I want you to watch. Want you to see how pretty you look getting fucked like this.”

Felix whimpers, thighs already trembling, lashes fluttering as he tries to hold still. The sight of his own reflection, red lips parted, pink lace clinging to his ass, garter straps tight across creamy skin, makes him moan louder.

You kneel behind him, spreading his legs with a gentle tap of your fingers. “Panties off.”

He obeys immediately, pulling them down shakily, careful not to tear the delicate fabric as it stretches around his thighs. You don't give him time to slip them off fully, “Such a good girl for mommy,” that makes him sob. The head of your strap nudges at his entrance, slick from earlier prep. “What do you want, sweet thing?”

“F-Fuck, mommy, please just- want it, want your cock, wanna feel it, wanna be good-”

You push in slowly, inch by inch, keeping a hand wrapped firm around his waist as he shudders against the wall. His body gives so easily, warm and soft around the thick silicone, his moans punched out of him with every breath.

“Oh my god,” he sobs, “oh my-m-mommy, I c-can’t, I-”

“You’re taking it so well, baby,” you coo, dragging your nails down his sides as you bottom out. “Look at that. Stuffed full. You were made for this.”

You press him against the wall like he’s your favorite toy, because he is. His cheek sticks to the cool surface, flushed and damp. You’re behind him, hands firm on his waist, pulling him back onto the silicone strapped between your hips. Felix whines, high-pitched and broken, hips twitching as his back arches just right.

“Such a pretty thing,” you purr, voice thick with amusement and control. “Look at you. Hair curled, lashes fluttering, panties still okay, baby?”

He nods frantically, the silky pink fabric bunched just under his ass cheeks, crotch dark with the evidence of his need. The sight makes your mouth water.

"Do you like it?," you coo, lips brushing the shell of his ear. "Like what Mommy dressed you in?"

He gasps, teeth sinking into his lip before he breathes it out like a confession. “M-Mommy… I like the bow...”, looking at the lace band of the pink panties digging into his thighs so deliciously.

“Good girl.” The words make him shudder. You press your strap deeper, slowly, forcing it in while he stretches so sweetly around you. “That’s my obedient little girl.”

He keens, fingers scrambling uselessly at the wall. “M-Mommy, please, fuck me. Make me cum, please, please-”

You slap his ass, just once, enough to make him jolt and whimper. “You’ll cum when I say. Keep begging. I like hearing you cry for it. My precious little slut.”

He sobs, desperate and glowing with shameful pleasure. “Want it so bad. Been thinking about you all day. Wanted Mommy to ruin me, wanted to be your doll. Please use me-!”

You chuckle low. "Oh baby, you are my doll. My pretty little girl. Look at this mess you’re making."

Your fingers slide down, press to his cock, twitching and soaked, barely restrained by the soaked lace. You tug it free and stroke it slowly, deliberately cruel. He wails.

"All dolled up just to be fucked stupid against a wall. That what you wanted?"

“Y-Yes, yes Mommy, wanted it- wan' be yours, wan' cum with your cock inside!”

You slam into him harder now, hand wrapped tight around his leaking tip. Your other hand slips to his throat, gentle but commanding, holding him in place.

"Then take it. Be Mommy's good little cocksleeve."

His eyes roll back, lips trembling. His whole body trembles with the force of holding back, fucked open and filled and dripping, dressed in silk, eyes glossy, completely owned.

And when you finally say, “Now, baby. Make a mess for Mommy,” he doesn’t just cum, he falls apart.

He sags forward, panting against the glass, tears still streaking his cheeks. White spatters the wall. His knees buckle. You hold him up, still inside, stroking him through it.

“Look at the mess you made,” you murmur, kissing the nape of his neck. “So pretty. So ruined. Just like I like you.”

“I made a mess…” he sniffled.

You pulled out slowly, catching him before he could collapse completely. His legs gave out and he slumped to the floor, clinging to your thigh like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

“You did,” you said, cupping his chin. “But it's okay, Mommy will take care of it for her pretty girl.”

taglist: @diekleinesuesse @tillaboo @felixsonlyrealwife @geni-627 @skz8riley @lezleeferguson-120 @pixie-felix @headfirstfortoro @alnex05 @baby-stay92 @encoredesires @androgynouscrownorbit @channiesluvrclub @my-neurodivergent-world @chims-dimple @bookswillfindyouaway @stellasays45 @angel-writes-skz-here @m-325 @0sunshinecryptid0 @beal-o @hug4helios @oksullen @rileylovescats @dreamyfelix @yxna-bliss

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I know that Yuu is gender neutral in the game for many reasons so it makes me wonder if Yuu was a girl in Conan would that change the dialogues and the way the characters interact with her?

Like not a major change to the main story or turning the game into otome but some small ones like in some characters interaction with Leona when stepping on his tail he won't want to beat us (because of the respect woman thing lol) in book one or Deuce being shy in the beginning of their friendship.

Hmm... For the most part, I honestly don't really think so? Cater still calls Yuu cute, Azul is still pretty polite, etc. Rook still waxes poetic and creepily recites your sizes, etc. regardless of gender. At best, maybe some of those traits would be exaggerated a little more or expanded on to suit the scenario?? Like maybe Ace would initially tease fem!Yuu about being at an all-boys school or something, isn't she bothered by it? But I really doubt that anyone would be tripping over themselves to protect or befriend fem!Yuu or anything, especially when most at NRC are primarily concerned with their own interests. Most of the characters aren't noted to treat women particularly differently than other genders. We also don't get to see the NRC students interacting with girls around their age either, so it's hard to discern how they'd be with them. I think even the "Deuce being shy in the beginning of the friendship" headcanon comes from a perspective colored by writings in fandom; Deuce in canon doesn't really seem to demonstrate major issues interacting with girls, at least not that I can recall. At best, he expresses surprise when Grim mistakes Epel for a girl and fails to romance the Ghost Bride (he freezes up and his mind blanks; it’s difficult to say this is how he’d act around most women or if he just acts this way due to the demands of the situation). Deuce does mention in Ace’s Suitor Suit vignettes that he mainly interacts with his mom, as most girls—and guys—would run away from him due to how intimidating he was. He says he gets nervous about hurting girls’ feelings, though this is in reference to faking a proposal and not romance or interactions in general. I think if we eliminated romantic interest altogether--because, to be clear, one girl in a cast of mainly guys is NOT always meant to be romantic or a harem--most of the cast would be their usual selves, if not maybe a little more polite due to how they’ve been socialized to see women as the “fairer” sex. For example, Riddle, Epel, and Jade underestimate Sally, though this isn’t clear if it’s gender-based or because they sympathize with her poor home life. They may also be instances of the guys not really knowing how to deal with girls? For example, Trey fails to help Sally up after she has fallen (which Sebek chastises him for); Trey later admits that he doesn't know many women beyond his mother and sister who is 4 years younger than him. Because of this, he says it may be that he was subconsciously nervous to interact with her.

The exception to this, many would point out, is Leona, who comes from a country in which women are respected. The strange thing is, whenever this point is mentioned, I always see people speaking about it in relation to Leona and Leona only, even though Ruggie and Rook also come from the Sunset Savanna (so technically those latter two would also theoretically be respectful to women). Now, there's a lot of discussion in the fandom about just how far Leona's "feminism" (a term used by fandom, never said in official materials) stretches. The most extreme of takes paint Leona as a misandrist who actively hates on or mistreats men while upholding women as superiors. And that... Well, I don't agree with this interpretation whatsoever. Yes, Leona no doubt respects women and is more likely to listen to them if they ask him to do something (for example, attending a party for a female painting in Cater's School Uniform vignette or taking a picture of himself in his robes for his sister-in-law in his own Ceremonial Robes vignettes). However, he won't just keel over and do whatever is asked of him simply because it is coming from a woman (think back to Ghost Marriage; he was still pretty pissed off when Eliza slapped him), and nor is he shown to disparage his own gender.

Rather than putting women on a pedestal, I think it would be more accurate to say that Leona doesn't underestimate women or think lesser of them because of their gender. (If you're interested my detailed breakdown of "feminist" Leona, check out this analysis.) For example, while his classmates worry for Sally's wellbeing in Lost in the Book with Nightmare Before Christmas, Leona lauds Sally's cunning and ability to save herself. We also get a pretty good look of this in the Episode of Savanaclaw manga, which features a female Yuu. (And before anyone says, "Yuuka could be hiding the fact she's a girl!", take a look at these panels. She is clearly not making an effort to hide her chest and given her nonchalant personality + ability to physically defend herself, Yuuka has no in-universe reason to be hiding her gender. The other students probably don’t bring up that she’s a girl because she’s already been around at NRC for roughly a month at this point and have likely acclimated to her presence. Besides, people don’t normally bring up “well, that’s a girl” out of the blue in everyday conversations.)

Riddle seems to treat Yuuka the same as the gender-neutral Yuu in the game; he still adjusts her tie for her without any flourishes, flinching, etc.

If you read the Episode of Savanaclaw altogether, pretty much all of the characters treat Yuuka like another fellow student and not "oh, this is a woman and a woman has to be treated differently".

Leona stops Savanaclaw mobs from beating up Yuuka and co., but this isn't significant because he does the same for gender-neutral Yuu in the game. It's not "I stopped the guys from hurting a woman" behavior. And get this: Leona still challenges Yuuka and co. to a magift/spelldrive game and he STILL kicks their asses and expects them to get up for more. He doesn't give even Yuuka special treatment or leniency because she is a woman. He wants her to play him again, the same as the other students (who are all guys). It is Jack who has to intervene and stop his dorm leader from bullying Yuuka and co.—but again, this isn’t a change from the game, as Jack always steps in anyway.

Yuuka recognizes Leona as "the garden caretaker" from back when she accidentally stepped on his tail. Unfortunately, we don't get to see if Leona attempted to attack her from this instance. It could be that the manga excluded it because he didn't try or it could be that he did (if the magift/spelldrive demands were of any indication) and the manga just didn't have time to show it in full. Buuut we should also note that Leona makes exceptions to his own... "moral code" when it is convenient for him. For example, he tells his students to not pick on outsiders but then still wails on us through sport. When Yuu steps on his tail in the garden, he says, "Well, can't say it'd be much fun to hurt someone so helpless," but then adds, "Still gonna do it, though."

My point is, this is the closest we'll get to "how would the boys treat a fem!Yuu", and that's what I'll leave you with.

[ghostgirl-22]

Art getting GANGBANGED💜

This made me giggle when you sent it anon, I won’t lie <3 Then I thought oh god now I have to write it. So here you are. I am so sorry for this. I don’t know what this is (it’s quite nonsensical). Honestly, feel like I flew too close to the sun. I need to retire from writing smut and start writing an older Art living peacefully by the sea. (Decide if that makes you want to read it or run away) But I digress…

CW: 18+ !NSFW! EXPLICIT bimbofication, feminization, objectification, D/s vibes if you squint, there can be the perception of CNC but I promise you everyone really wants this, especially blondie, but please avoid if things like gangbangs trigger you. Can feel a bit AU…let’s be generous and say canon drift…

Your reference is this post about a negligée (an impossible word to spell btw so watch me fuck it up repeatedly along with all my other spelling and grammar mistakes).

—-

It’s a game of truth or dare. That’s how the whole thing happens.

Regular and completely normal Friday night. Patrick’s visiting Stanford. The girls team is at an away game, traveling back tomorrow and the boys just finished a tournament playing the same team here and Art sends him a text.

Hanging out with friends probably gonna play video games, you should come and bring drinks.

And then 10 minutes later: I think my roommate wants to fuck me lol

Patrick has to laugh because this is actually the kind of stupid thing that could only happen to Art.

Art is already dizzy and flirty when Patrick arrives at his dorm with the alcohol. His cheeks are already coloring, his eyes are dilated. And it’s no wonder because he’s already getting way too much attention. There are three other boys in the bedroom with him, his roommate Carter who Patrick could tell, so very obviously wanted to fuck Art since he first met him. But it’s worse now ever since he woke up once in the middle of night and heard Patrick doing it.

And then two others Patrick doesn’t know but Art calls them Jamie and Max, “friends” from the Stanford tennis team. Patrick clocks them right away as having the same desire to fuck Art that Carter has.

That kind of male attention makes Art go silly. At this point Art doesn’t even need a drink. He’s half lost, giggling at things that aren’t even funny just because some cute boy is touching his knee, pinching his cheek, calling him pretty. Patrick’s hard immediately.

It’s truth or dare, Carter’s idea, and Patrick’s probably drinking too much. The game gets nasty pretty quickly. Art can’t sit still, he’s on his hands and knees when Max says “I dare you to kiss me.” Can’t stop himself when Jamie dares him to do it again, but with tongue. He’s in his t-shirt and boxers, ass sticking out as he crawls over Patrick’s lap to kiss Jamie. Carter’s adjusting himself, mouth open, staring at it. Patrick thinks once or twice about letting them pass him around. Shit like this is usually foreplay for him but right now he’s feeling so buzzed he might just want to see how deep this rabbit hole goes.

He’s horny as fuck, but his brain doesn’t actually break until Art’s roommate says, “Truth or Dare, roomie, is it true you stole your ex-girlfriend's lingerie?"

“I didn’t steal it,” Art hiccups, he’s distracted because Max runs his fingers through Art’s hair on his way back to the circle, with a new drink which he hands to Art. He cups Arts cheek, fingertips brush against his lips. Art’s whining “stop it,” but Patrick sees the way he follows the touch. Art doesn’t even notice it when Patrick takes the drink out of his hand, because he’s dangerously close to spilling it everywhere. He’s not even drunk, barely even tipsy and still just so empty headed.

Carter goes to Art’s Stanford issued dresser and pulls out this thing from the first drawer. Barely a thing. A pink little slip of a thing. “What’s this?”

“She let me have it,” Art says, voice pitched too high. He’s sitting on his knees, hands pressed between his thighs.

”Why?” Carter asks, like he knows something they don’t know. Patrick thinks he likes him the least.

“You said you wouldn’t tell anyone,” Art says, it’s too whiny and playful.

Patrick’s mildly annoyed now, “Share with the class,” he says. He doesn’t really want Art keeping secrets with roommates that aren’t him.

Art goes all compliant and he’s squirming on the floor as he looks at Patrick, “She said it looked better on me.”

Both Max and Jamie start snickering.

Patrick thinks of himself as a genius. He generally thinks he’s the smartest person in the room most of the time, but this has to be one of the smartest things he’s ever said or done ever. In ever. “Okay…I dare you to try it on.”

“You want me too?” Art asks, glassy eyed, as he gazes at Patrick.

Patrick grabs at his t-shirt and he doesn’t even have to pull. Art just gravitates towards him, closing his eyes, parting his lips instinctively and Patrick thinks he’s in love with him. Like one day he’ll probably marry him, move him into a house with a white picket fence and fuck him so full of come that… etcetera etcetera. The American dream.

“Yeah, put it on sweetie.” Patrick says gently. “Call me when you’re done… I want to see it first.”

Art licks his lips and opens his eyes again before he stumbles to his feet. He tries to take it from Carter but Carter hides it behind his back which means Art’s got to reach around him, touch him, play with him. When Art manages to get it away he’s already blushing. He goes in the bathroom, telling them no one better laugh. And Patrick needs a cigarette. Needs to run a marathon or climb a mountain for all the pent up energy inside him right now.

“You his boyfriend or something?” Max asks, curiously.

“Or something,” Patrick says. Truth is Art only started putting out after he found out Tashi was. And as long as Patrick has wanted to fuck Art he’s never really stopped to think about why Art chose now. Patrick isn’t picky. He’s not picky at all. He’ll fuck Art, he’ll fuck Tashi, he’d fuck them both at the same time if they wanted it.

“Can you share?” Carter asks.

Patrick shrugs, “I think I have been.”

“No I mean really share,” Carter says and he stares at the bathroom door.

Patrick smirks. “I think I need another drink.”

He can hear Art calling for him and when he taps the door to let himself in he’s pretty sure that’s the moment— the exact moment— his brain fully and completely short circuits. From that point forward he’s actually an entirely different person.

“It’s just too…” Art whines, unable to think. He’s sitting on the toilet lid bouncing his leg. The blush goes everywhere. Down his chest to the pink lacy teddy. It fits like a glove. It’s hugging his waist, see through sheer fabric over his chest embroidered with with some kind of threading that would barely hide his tits if he had any. Patrick can clearly see his nipples, taut and erect through the sheer fabric. It’s not the only part of him that’s erect. The equally sheer lace panties underneath the negligée are straining to keep him contained and he’s fucking soaking the lace with precum, so wet, Patrick thinks, leaking through his panties like a fucking girl.

Patrick thinks he’s gonna fuck him right there. Pull him on his lap and go fucking crazy.

“Patrick I—I wanna— I need—“ he stammers, helpless. He’s gone full, if I only had a brain.

“Yeah, it’s okay,” Patrick says, swallowing thickly. “I know what you need. Come here.”

Art’s still bouncing his leg, he’s got pretty legs, soft and smooth and toned and so long. Still in his nearly knee high white socks. Fucking slut. Patrick guides him to his feet, and immediately Art’s wrapping his arms around Patrick. Patrick can feel the way he’s starting to rub himself along Patrick’s thigh. The wet hot heat of him. Patrick shoves Art up against the wall to stop him and he takes a deep breath, coming to the distant realization that he’s actually shivering. “Can you hear me?” Patrick asks, probably trying to calm himself down more than anything else.

Art nods.

“You hear my voice?”

“Mmhm. Patrick—- Patrick please I need—“

“I know. You need to be fucked, don’t you baby?” Patrick’s not sure what he’s saying but Art just moans. “Fuck. You don’t even care who fucking does it. You’d let anybody in right now.” Patrick continues.

Art is nodding his head. ”Mm, yes Patrick please, please, please—” he groans, begging, pleading. For one terrifying minute Patrick thinks he’s gonna get on his knees in that slutty little slip and break Patrick forever. His eyes are all glassy and wet and he’s trying to get friction, attention, something, his blonde curls falling into his eyes.

“Oh fuck it, come on,” Patrick says and he opens the door. Art walks timidly into the bedroom. Patrick stays a second longer to look for the lube under the counter and finds a box of unopened condoms too. The second he stayed was too long. Carter’s already got Art pressed up against the wall, tongue in his mouth, Jamie’s got his hands inside the fabric of the negligée, rubbing his nipples like he’s got a full set of tits or something. Max is watching, touching himself, idly over his boxers.

The whole time Art’s moaning helplessly moving his hips. Needy like he’s in heat. Patrick makes them wear a condom if they want him. And holy fuck do they want him.

Patrick starts it first on the bed, pulls Art on his lap just to get him wet, get him loose. He’s careful about it. Art’s so horny he’s trying to lose it quickly so Patrick has to grab onto him, slow him down. Even him out.

“Fuck,” Art’s whining, mindlessly. “Fuck, Patrick it’s so big. It’s so big. It’s so fucking… much.”

Patrick’s rubbing his tummy through the fabric, he’s flexed so tight, barely breathing. Patrick moves up to brush his nipples and he moans.

“Hey gorgeous, you wanna try this?” Max whispers, pressing his cock to Art’s lips. “I dare you.”

Art doesn’t need the dare. He takes it in his mouth eagerly. Patrick can feel him squeezing, clenching, grinding as he sucks on it… can feel the overwhelming heat of his tight little body. Patrick grips him tighter to steady him. “Take your time,” Patrick whispers.

He’s taking so much in his mouth. Max starts groaning, “Oh fuck. Yeah, take your time gorgeous, holy shit.”

Patrick kisses on his throat where he’s swallowing and tries to coax him off. If he stays inside much longer he’s going to lose his mind and that’s the last thing he needs right now. They need at least one working brain between them.

Art’s breathing heavy when he opens his mouth, drool spilling everywhere. Patrick pushes him to get up and Carter grabs him next. He pushes him on the bed on his hands and knees and goes to town, so eager he barely lasts. As Carter’s fucking him Art is licking Jamie’s cock, and then swallowing on Max’s, occassionally both at the same time. Patrick is sitting on the other twin bed, trying his best not to lose it untouched for how fucking hot this is. Art is so far gone Patrick wonders if he even realizes how much of a fucking mess he is.

He’s got it all over him, hands, tongues, cock. They’re all kissing, touching, putting fingers in his hair, in his mouth, in his ass. Jamie and Carter both fighting to get a turn. Jamie fucking him till he’s coming, hot sticky ropes of it dripping, dripping slowly from his soaked panties onto the bed. He’s overstimulated taking Max, but he doesn’t stop. He’s pushing back on it, moaning in a way that sounds like he’s vacillating between pleasure and pain.

Carter starts kissing him and eventually Arts just moaning into his mouth.

“You’re so goddamn pretty,” Jamie’s cooing, jerking himself. “Gonna make me wanna nut again, fuck.”

Art’s making pleasure sounds only now. His cock filling up again just a few minutes before Max is finishing inside him.

“Shit, that felt so fucking good,” Max breathes. Art looks around dizzy as Max pulls out and starts tying the condom off. And then Carter’s on him, kissing him again, so he sits up and crawls into Carter’s arms so he can be held. But Patrick grabs him by the waist.

“My turn, come here, princess,” Patrick says, teasingly, pulling him back onto the second bed. His bed.

“Patrick—I think I— I need to—“ Art’s climbing onto him all doe eyed and wet, wet lips, wet eyes, wet with sweat and come and lube. The lingerie falling off one shoulder and his pretty pink nipple just exposed. Patrick nibbles at it gently.

“Patrick,” Art whines.

“You wanna come?” Patrick asks softly. His voice doesn’t sound like his own. He pulls Art onto his lap and eases himself inside and Art’s moving right away. He feels looser than Patrick’s ever felt him before but he’s still so nice and warm, and too fucking tight for him. He’s not ever to be trusted alone with boys, Patrick decides. Not boys like this at least. He just barely gets Art over the finish line when he’s losing it. It’s not even 5 minutes and he’s losing it. Does it raw just to spill it all inside him. If Patrick had something to prove he might be embarrassed but he is the one holding onto Art in the end, soothing him. Calming him down as he comes back to reality and in that reality Art is his…even if Patrick is more than willing to share when Art needs it.

When the other boys have left and Carter’s in the shower and they’re finally alone together Art is mostly back to himself. They’re eating leftover pizza and watching Sports Center. Art is devouring his, probably starving after using all of that energy. Patrick tangles his fingers into Art's hair, it’s still a little damp from the shower.

“Truth or dare,” Patrick says

“Truth,” Art says, his mouth half full.

Patrick sighs. “I don’t know what that was but you’re fucking beautiful.”

Art turns to look at Patrick with a little smirk, still chewing. “I know.”

“And you can’t ever do that when I’m not there.”

“I know,” Art says again.

“So I’m keeping the lingerie.”

Art shrugs, “I know.”

“Okay know it all,” Patrick gazes back at him and then takes the rest of the pizza crust out of his hand, smiling as he takes a bite. “Good.”

[silkentine]

Okay okay okay everyone be cool.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! IT’S SANJI’S TURN!!! I think my bias really shines through by the fact that there are four illustrations rather than my usual three. Not to mention… this isn’t even half of the busts that I’ve drawn and also none of these are post-timeskip. I need to make a whoooole other character sheet for post-timeskip Sanji. She changes a lot in two years.

But I digress, here are my design notes for Sanji: (WARNING includes discussion of Sanji’s journey during the timeskip. There are also some super duper minor vague spoilers for whole cake island but those are written in blue so you can skip over them easily.)

So personality wise, I wanted to keep a lot of her complex relationship with femininity and gender. She grew up under the care of super butch Zeff who taught her that being a girl doesn’t mean that you have to be girly; in fact, it’s probably best if you toughen up so you can protect people who need it. Sanji takes this to heart and becomes a total tomboy, she believes that she’s rejected her feminine side completely.

She’s also a diehard romantic!! She’s the dashing prince who has come to save every damsel she comes across. She finds it very easy to flirt with women because it was very much the modus operandi on the Baratie, but she’s all talk. She gets flustered very easily once any romantic endeavor starts to bear fruit. She’ll make some poignant revelations about why once she lives in the Kamabakka Kingdom.

So why isn’t she wearing a suit? Because I’m a whore for an apron. It’s the perfect way to establish the silhouette of a dress but maintain a clean, utilitarian appearance. Fem!Sanji is more line-cook than waitress, but she DOES wear menswear pieces. I’ve put her in a silk vest with flared slacks in one outfit and she’s sporting that cute tie from Long Ring Long Land in another. Very preppy. I think she mostly wears tidier versions of Sanji’s more casual outfits: patterned button ups, cargo shorts, tees. She is religious about keeping her nails clean and manicured though. As fussy as canon Sanji is about his suits? Fem!Sanji is tenfold more fussy about her nails. She never wears polish (it could chip into the food) but her digits are trimmed perfectly and buffed to a shine.✨

She has a birthmark(?) at the nape of her neck that isn’t a scar but doesn’t tan. No one’s ever noticed it before because she was pretty good about staying inside when she lived on the Baratie but, now that she’s out adventuring on a much smaller ship, she finds herself basking in the sun more often and the mark is becoming more defined. She would be mortified to know it was there, especially since it doesn’t show up on the four other people who have similar marks because their skin cells are invulnerable to UV. (Inspired by @themetalhiro )

I love Sanji so so so so so so much. This design is like… 50% what I wish I looked like, 49% what I think is hot, and 1% forced-feminized transponder snail. I’ll have so much more to say about her characterization when I post the next version. Let me know your thoughts in the replies!!

[biggaybunny]

I know it's already been talked about a lot, but I'm still thinking about that "wouldn't disco elysium be better if it were about a girl in the alps looking for her neighbor's lost cat" (paraphrasing) post. Because I think part of the problem is that it comes from a lack of understanding of videogames as a storytelling medium.

Not saying that anyone misunderstands that videogames have a story, but that's different. The story in a videogame is usually understood as something that contextualizes the player's environment and options for interacting with that environment. Even if the story is not about you the player as directly as something like, say, skyrim, but is instead about a character like Leon Kennedy in Resident Evil or something, the contract between player and game is that the player will assume the role of Leon Kennedy for the duration of the story.

You are not Harry Du Bois! You are not meant to assume the role of Harry. You can like him and even empathize him, I'm not saying any of that is wrong. But your role is very close to that as any other voice in his head. Honestly if anything I feel like Volition represents the player the best. You're basically picking this wet threadbare gym sock of a man and going "fuck's sake, I guess this is what I've got to work with".

The game tries to point this out to you, too. You are not Harry. It is Harry doing these things, saying these things. These are Harry's decisions. What happens if you try too hard to be reasonable and conciliatory and nothing like a Rechavolian cop in a backwater town? You get called the "sorry cop" and mocked for it. If you try too hard to play according to your personal politics? Everyone comments on your weird overzealous and out-of-the-blue "feminism", or you wind up pestering the queer characters in the game with out-of-place and clumsy mentions of their sexuality. What happens if you try not to be inflammatory and opinionated? "Say one of the communist or fascist things or fuck off".

The game doesn't stop you because that wouldn't get the message across. It's a very good game. It is, in my opinion, very possibly the best example of videogames as a storytelling medium we've ever seen. And it's willing to show you just how out of place you'll be if you try to put yourself into the crocodile-leather shoes of Harry Du Bois. In fact it can do that and still tell you the rest of the story it's trying to tell, because the writers were that damn good at their job.

And yeah, the game's going to make you uncomfortable. Harry himself is going to make you uncomfortable. He's supposed to. It's like Trant says near the end, Harry is like a magnetic tape, pressed against the world, recording everything. Even the ugly bits. Maybe especially the ugly bits. But you can't just throw out the ugly bits.

Sometimes you've got to work with something imperfect. Alongside imperfect people. And you can still accomplish amazing things with imperfect people. It doesn't mean accepting their imperfections or ignoring them. It just means knowing what's important to prioritize, and understanding that a good deed done by a not so good person is still a good deed.

But to understand that, you need to be able to look at Harry and recognize him as separate from you even as you go through the story. He's your point of view because he's the protagonist, and you have control over the narrative to an extent because a videogame is not one-to-one comparable to other forms of media like movies or books. But it's still a story you are experiencing, not partaking in. I don't think that's going to be revolutionary for most people, but I also think that most videogames blur that line enough that not everyone's going to innately recognize the difference. I hope I've done a good enough job explaining what I'm getting at.

Besides, Harry would be way better at finding a neighbor's missing cat.

[prettyboykatsuki-moved]

vanilla-cherry sweetheart | h. sakura

✮ tags ; gender neutral + afab!reader, dom top!reader, sub bottom!sakura, explicit feminization (referring to sakuras ass as a pussy, dick as a clit. the pet name good girl etc.), light dollification (reader dresses him up), rimming, anal fingering, pegging, cumming untouched, lots of gender fuckery, BRIEF breeding kink / pregnancy reference directed at sakura, excessive dirty talk, mirror sex 18+

✮ wc ; 5.1k (im crazy im crazy im crazy)

✮ a/n ; there's no way im not ovulating. this is insane. sorry. also sorry if there are any egregious typos i can only read this once over before i feel like exploding

✮ synopsis ; you think sakura makes the prettiest girl.

The soft slip of silk and satin feel weird  against Haruka’s skin.  

You’ve put effort into this, more than he thought possible. Every detail of him has been preened and plucked. A soft scent rolls off of his freshly smooth skin,  cherry and vanilla. His hair is styled down against, bangs laid flat as opposed to push backwards, decorated with clips and accessories.  

He has a face full of makeup on which was a pain to apply and even more of a pain to not rub off. His lips are parted, polished with color and his eyes are lined with a soft brown. There’s some shadow underneath, some glittery dust but everything is generally subdued. He hasn’t seen what the hell he looks like and he thinks he’d prefer it that way.  

Like hell he’d wanna see what perverted things you’ve done to his face.  

His clothes feel the most unfamiliar to him. Boxers replaced with frilly boyshorts. Bra straps tugging against his shoulder. Expensive so the fabric doesn’t itch. The kind without cups, all loose and sliding against his nipples every time he shifts. He’s wearing clothes you’ve hand-picked. Dresses that girls usually wear. Skin-colored tights underneath a patterned slip dress with that he doesn’t have the full chest to fit into, accompanied by a sweater hanging off of his arms and shoulders.  

All of these details on Haruka’s musculature make no sense. It can’t look very good on him, he thinks. Haruka has a hard body. Sinewy muscles from manual labor and fighting, a square set of shoulders. He’s always been thin and languid but not…feminine. He has no idea how to posture himself. In what ways he should sit or stand, how to behave with these soft clothes and light scents on his skin. 

The delicacy of your hands as they paint more of a nude rouge onto his mouth, makes Haruka blush further. His stomach turns as he stares at you, searching for answers he doesn’t find in the calm express on your face. You cup his jaw, your other hand using a lip brush to slide it against his mouth as you finish up with last touches. Focused as you prep him to your standards, whatever the hell they are.  

Haruka won’t pretend to understand. He thinks most of the effort you’ve poured in priming him is wasted. He thinks that this whole affair has been stupid and he’s sure the minute he catches a glance at himself he’ll want to explode into a thousand little pieces. You’ve been so damn meticulous, Haruka can’t even bring himself to destroy your hard work. No stone left unturned, each and every element met with incredible focus and detail.  

More shamefully, the attention has felt good. It’s hard to pretend that it doesn’t when it’s the only thing that makes Haruka bend at your will. He’s never had a relationship before, but he’s not ditzy enough to think your sex life is particularly normal. Nothing about you really is. Maybe your unbridled affection for Haruka can be attributed to that. It was you who pursued Haruka, you who courted him and romanced him - cornered him even as he  ran away, with frustrating levels of discretion - until the option to fall for someone else had all but disappeared.  

And Haruka had tried to run away from you. Many times. Your persistence wore him down until eventually his mind would only fill with you and whatever you wanted to do to him. With him.  

(Haruka loves you to put it plainly. You’re clever and sardonic and interesting and he doesn’t totally get you but he loves you so madly it makes him crazy. Loves you for the ways you’re good and careful, and loves you for the ways you love him. You’re so good to Haruka, so good he can’t stand it. So good his head feels staticky trying to make sense of it 

That’s why he’ll do anything for you, no matter how horribly shameful.)  

It’s impossible, difficult, irrational  - the breadth and depth of Haruka’s feelings for you are completely and utterly distanced from his own understanding. Where Haruka is abrasive yet timid, you are soothing but straightforward. Sincere. You’ve been gently introducing him to the depths of your affection, putting yourself forward in expressing your desires and thoughts.  

You’ve always been this sort of person, you hope he won’t hate you etc.  

You always give Haruka a chance to run away from you.  

No expectations. A warm gaze from across a shared bed that turns Haruka pink, incoming dawn on his cheeks down to his shoulders and collarbones. He always has options, but he likes the option making you happiest. The words thank you sound like a hymn on your lips. 

He tells itself its for you, and it is mostly. Mostly. After all this time though, he’s  conditioned. His body is molded for your touch. The unwitting pleasure of submitting himself to you had shocked him the first time he really experienced it. How soothing you were, how easily you dragged him into abyss of pure pleasure. Pleasure and sex he couldn’t imagine existing.  

Your touch had conditioned his body to burn bright wherever it lingered.  

The shame is always there, pooling in his gut and lying in wait to swallow him. It overwhelms him whenever he’s alone.  

But you always pull him from it, out of it - cradle him in the palms of your skilled hands as you whisper sweet platitudes against his skin. Praise him, fuck him into something boneless and desperate. Being exposed to a type of want, the euphoria in humiliation, the reclamation of his shame. It turns Haruka’s doubts into noise slowly but surely. He falls so deep into that depth, becomes completely unrecognizable only because he’s so sure you’ll catch him.  

He hates it so much. 

(Read: He hates liking it. Hates liking the forbidden sexual things you’ve introduced him too that he can’t forget. Hates liking the fact you’ve imprinted so mercilessly on his body and mind. Haruka could never be with anyone else. Nothing would work.  

No one could make him feel like this. You’re the first and only in the world.)  

A few weeks ago, you had mentioned wanting to dress him up like this. Stared, long and hard before petting his hair and assessing he’d make a pretty girl. There’d been traces of it before then but...  

To have it brought up so deliberately made him hiss at you feral until you winded him back down. Asked if he would be fine with it, assured it’d be okay if not.  

He said no then, and you didn’t ask again.  

(He brought it up later and felt all melty seeing you beam.)  

He thought it’d be simple. He’s seen stuff like this before when he went to look up other things you wanted to try. He thought it’d just be panties or clothes, something basic and lacy. Still perverted but simple.  

But everything has been elaborately crafted to make him pretty. The soft drawls and whispered demands, the compliments, painting his nails and washing his hair and shaving him.  

These are ritual acts of beauty, made to accentuate feminine appeal he doesn’t see in himself but you so clearly do.  

After you’re finish up your last touches, you tell him to keep his eyes closed. You stand behind Haruka with a hand under his jaw once he turns in his seat, still blind to his new looks. Your voice is an appreciative murmur, so genuine and so raw it makes all the hair on his neck stand on end.  

“Open your eyes. You’re so pretty, Haru-chan,” Your thumb slides against his cheek lightly. “Look how pretty you are.”   

He doesn’t recognize himself. Adorned, dolled up. The sinew of his muscles and hard lines of his figures contrast against the shapely pulls of his dress. He’s smooth and smells nice, perfumed and stunning. The makeup on his face doesn’t overwhelm him. It’s him but he’s pretty. So pretty it freaks him the fuck out.  

Pretty like a girl. The hell.  

“What’s all this even for? Doesn’t make sense. I’m a guy and I’m not—,” He murmurs, trying not to shudder as he feels self conscious. You lean down, your chest pressed to his back as your arms circle around his neck. “You’re so weird.”  

You ignore his empty threats skillfully. “It’s for me to fuck you in,”  

He wants to be pissed at you but you look so pleased. Obvious satisfaction making your shoulders relax, eyes raking over him in the mirror again and again. He looks in the mirror and sees a version of himself so…cute it’s unfathomable it’s even him.  

He makes a noise of discontent, lip jutted in a pout. That’s met with an airy laugh. “Seems pointless.”  

You smile at him in the mirror and his skin shades a deeper pink, tucking his chin.  

“It’s fine if you think that,” You murmur. “Is it okay if I make you feel good now?”  

“Don’t say it in such an embarrassing way.” He grits. You laugh again as you bend down over him where he sits, kissing him once before the two of you stumble into shared bed.  

Haruka feels conscious of himself when he finally lays back into the sheets. His dress rides up near over his lmees and there’s nothing underneath to shield him from your hungry view. His tights are too sheer of any use. You amble on top of Haruka, sitting on him as he lays back.  

You admire him for a long while like that.  Palm settled on his waist, you trace his features with appreciation. “You’re a beautiful girl, aren’t you Haruka?”  

“I’m…” He deflects instinctively. A coy smile tugs at the corners of your lips as your fingers find the hem of Haruka’s dress. It’s a loose thing, a printed pattern decorated with a frilly hem meant for a more shapely frame. You toy with the material, rubbing it between your fingers. “Fuck off,”  

He can’t bring himself to say he’s not a girl. For some stupid reason. The words die on his lips when he stares up at you and sees you looking at him so reverently. So expectant without words. He squirms and looks away.  

“What word do you say when you want to stop, Haruka?”  

“Tomato. Or I can pinch you,” He repeats from memory. You smile lovingly.  

“Right. Is there anything you want to say to me?” Do you want me to stop? 

He looks away, frown deepening. Relieved when you take his silence as compliance as you often do so kindly.  

“Don’t worry about anything else,” You slide the spaghetti straps of his dress off his shoulder, pulling it down past his chest and revealing the soft patterned black lace underneath. His nipples peek through the material, the rosiness more noticeable through the paneling. It looks so lewd from the angle he sees it. “Just focus on being a good girl for me,”  

Haruka lets out a strangle protest before uttered soundless from your steely gaze, nodding  frustratedly as your hands slide up to his chest. You brush Haruka’s nipples lightly with the dull edge of your nail, his spine arching responsively to the pleasure. It’s a brief touch, a promise of what’s to come. You lean forward pressing your lips to his as you rub the hardened buds until they’re tender. His lipstick smears a little onto you, a dusty rose. Haruka moans into your mouth, entirely aware of the thing barrier between your touch and his chest. Your fingers are deft in rubbing his nipples as your tongue occupies Haruka’s. You lick against his lips and tongue, sucking on it lewdly. . 

Shameless in your pursuit of him, his ass throbs from prior prep and his cock stirs to all the sudden stimulation.  

The way arousal floods his brain scares him. He can’t fight it.  You’re so good with your hands. Good at everything, like knowing where and how and when exactly to touch him. His cock tents, strains against the suffocating nylon wrapped around his legs and waist. He shivers as he feels the leaky tip press against the silk and push desperately through the nylon - stretching it with it’s length. His whole body is throbbing urgently.  

You kiss down Haruka’s bare chest until your mouth finds one of his nipples. You suck them through the cups first before tugging them away slightly and giving Haruka what he wants which is the full heat of your mouth. You’ve made him so weird. Wired his body into feeling this unimaginable pleasure in places he hardly used to touch.  

His hips buck into anticipation, mouth open and panting as your incisors sink into the flesh of his pec.  

He cries out, shuddering as he grabs the nape of neck to anchor himself at the wet feeling. His blood is rushing south making him light-headed. He feels needy, sensitive. So much anticipation had built up while you spent time on him and all of it floods to his mind all at once. The attention you pay him and only him.  

The weight of your gaze clings to him.  

“Your clits getting all hard and sticky from having your nipples teased,” You point out.  Haruka groans reflexively at your tone of voice. “You’re a perverted girl, huh?”  

Haruka should protest your words. He wants too. The cognitive dissonance should cause him discomfort but he finds only euphoria in it’s wake. He can’t understand why. It’s all so weird, but you sound so sure of yourself. Falling deeper into those unfamiliar depths makes his anxiety curl up in his chest yet when he looks at you it all fades.  

He feels greedy. Feels so selfish when his mind chants for you to keep looking at him just like that. He falls deep into that familiar liminal space, warm and comfortable.  

Your eyes are softened and assured. Haruka makes a pathetic whine. It doesn’t feel like his voice. He protests the words right away. “I’m not,”  

“Not what, Haruka?”  

He blinks at you wetly, brows scrunched. He huffs. “I’m not a pervert, dammit.” 

It’s the right thing to say. He thought it’d be. You light up at the admission, sucking a mark into his neck as you grab his waist a little more and grope him all over. You can’t keep your hands off of him, your fingers searching for all of his skin as you kiss him again more feverishly. He wraps his arms around your neck, his sweater sleeves slipping awkwardly when he does, making you kiss him harder.  

“My Haruka. My Haru-chan,” You murmur against his lips in between kisses. Haruka opens his eyes to you looking utterly adoring. Lovesickness bleeds into your eyes, a drug to his system as you direct it his way. “So pretty and perfect.”  

“Shut up,” He goads, trying to get you to kiss him a little more. “You’re so annoying.”  

You kiss again, deeper and stronger before pulling back. “I’m gonna eat you out, Haru-chan.”   

The words make him gasp, shiver  - goosebumps covering every visible inch of your skin. “Gonna make use of your pretty pussy and split it open on my cock, make you cum from the inside like a good girl.”  

It melts him down to his core, spoken with such clarity - smooth leaving your lips and so genuine. Haruka has been fucked enough to know how it feels and to want it. He thinks of all times prior, and feels the plug inside of him more consciously at the mention. He squeezes his legs together from the arousal, like a girl he thinks and the whines somewhere deep in his chest. Preens for you.  

His consciousness feels like it’s fading with each step, each breath he heaves from his lungs labored.  

He forms his lips around words that never escape him. Before long you’re scooting yourself further back, down between his legs until you’re faced with his clothed erection.  

Arousal nips at him at the sight of your face near his cock underneath so many layers. You purposefully hold the skirt of his dress and rub all over - emphasizing the shape through it. Haruka flushes at the way his cock sticks up against them. Distorts that stupid floral pattern, stretches it. His ears grow hot at the lascivious image it paints. Your palm glides over his bulge once, twice, three times before sliding it up again.  

A wet patch stains his nude nylons visibly after all of the teasing, pre-cum dribbling between two thin layers that makes Haruka want to die. Your voice is gravelly, lacks it’s usual amusement. “You’re so wet, Haruka.”  

He shivers and huffs.  

His cock twitches and his ass is throbbing. Unspoken desire nips at him as your thumb presses against his slit through layers of fancy material. Praise falls from your lips crassly. He becomes more aware each second. His bra and panties, his dress and skirt, the feeling of make-up on his face and the sensation of clips keeping his bangs away from his eye. He looks like a girl and his dick is leaking, twitching, pitifully as you touch and caress him.  

His head rings heavy with the words wet.  

He wants you to touch him more. Nearly begs with his eyes for you get the memo. 

And you do. Of course you do, all wispy and pleased by his obvious desperation for your touch. “Haruka’s got such a needy little pussy, huh?”  

He hisses, swears, takes a sharp inhale of air as your fingers find the seam of his stockings and pull until they rip unceremoniously. You pull them until his cock and the insides of his thighs are open to air, and snagged nylon shrinks against his waist. His panties, black boyshort lace panties, make his milky skin look whiter and the tip of his cock redder. 

It’s so unbearably dirty to him. It’s so humiliating. Vanilla scented skin and the heady scent of his own cum, his painted, blunt nails digging into the palms of his hands  - bitten chest and misplaced bra,  all of it is so humiliating. Makes his dick even harder under everything as your fingers wrap delicately along his shaft with the fabric. “You have to cum from the inside first, Haruka,” 

You remind him and he aches, grits his teeth about it but you don’t budge.  

You don’t take Haruka’s panties off either. The panel of fabric barely covering his cock instead gets pushed aside. Haruka bends his legs up instinctively. Your thumb taps on the jewel end of a plug, one he’d mostly forgotten about until he’s forced to be reminded it of it. He swears loudly.  

You make an abrupt move suddenly, reaching over to bedside table and rifling along for things you’d both need. Lube, a harness, and something to fill Haruka with. You settle back between his legs when you’ve got them all before you carefully tug his plug away from him.  

The emptiness makes him whine  - hole pink and fluttery and open. Your thumbs pull him open until he gapes a little more, hands massaging his thigh. “Such a perfect pussy.” 

Haruka makes an aborted noise  - a pitchy whine cut off as you dip down further and further until your nose tucks against his perineum and your tongue slides over wet hole.  

He cries out at the sudden intrusion, muscles fluttering as you force your tongue as deep as it can go. It’s embarrassing, so shameful he could die and it feels incredible. 

“It’s fucking dirty,” He shouts, cries, prying himself away from you before it can feel even better. “Stop, it’s—“  

“Ish not dirty,” You mumble, words mumbled against his puckering hole. “I helpedth you clean, remember?,”  

You pull away and your face is wet with something, lube likely, but the visual mixed with everything else makes Haruka want to crawl into a hole. Your hands on his thighs are soft and your eyes gaze, turned on him is sparkling. “You’re a cute girl, Haruka. Saying things like it’s dirty. But this much is normal, okay? It’s only polite if I eat your pussy.”  

His stomach flips, heart racing at the ease of your words. A cute girl. Being praised in such a way… so genuinely. Enough to make him think it. Haruka likes being your boyfriend, your good boy but there’s something so much naughtier about all of this that makes him want to cry. His body is so chery red, down to his neck and shoulders.  

You’re going to fuck his pussy while he’s wearing these lacy, frilly, girly clothes and he wants it so bad he could die from the shame.  

“Do you want me to eat you out? Do you want me to make your pussy feel good?”  

The words come out like a sob, ripped out of his labored breaths. “Fuck, yes —“  

So you dive back again, pressing your tongue to Haruka’s hole with reckless abandon. It feels strange but it feels good when you tease and slurp. It’s sensitive and ticklish with each stroke, something about it feels dirty. All the hairs on the back of his neck stand - electricity shooting through his nerves and making him pulse hot all over. You’re doing it so passionately, eating him out like he really has a— 

He moans a little, shuddering, cock dribbling pr-espend. Tip ruddy and desperate, he want more. He grinds against your face searching for it, hips chasing for friction.  

He knows what he really wants even if it’s too shy to voice it. His body feels so empty, so uselessly empty. He casts his gaze on your harness, your cock—laying beside him and clenches without thinking. He wants it so bad he’s drooling, aching, hips pushing against air as he moans while you eat him out. Please, please,please.  

You make an appreciative noise into him as you pull away, his hole soaked from your saliva as you look up at him from between his legs. Noticing the state he’s in, faced reddened and chest heaving. He feels so ruined and so, so stupidly horny. He wants to cum any way he can, he thinks.  

He looks at your face, absolutely lovestruck, then shivers.  

That’s not true. He wants to cum from your cock, from being fucked. He wants to cum like a girl. 

“I want you to see yourself baby,” You say, all warm. Haruka pants. “Come here,”  

Haruka is dazed as you help him up to his feet and guide him back to your vanity. He can barely stand he’s so hard. His knees buckle further when he sees himself in the mirror. 

God. He looks ruined. His makeup smudged slightly at mouth despite himself, his bitten chest and skin and his clothes. His ripped tights. All of it is too overwhelming to process. He decides against thinking.  

You wrap your arm around his waist from behind. “My pretty girl.”  

Haruka covers his face instinctively, squirming. “Shut up.”  

“Mm,” You put a hand on the front of his thigh. “Put your knee on here and your hands on the vanity table, Haru-chan.” 

Haruka obliges only because he can barely keep himself upright other wise, propping one knee onto the vanitys bench. He’s close to himself in the mirror this way - the lights making him look at himself with more scrutiny than before. He has no idea what it is about this you like. Gold-silver eyes, short hair - everything about him, he doesn’t see what you admire.  

But you’ve put so much focus into accentuating each of his features. It’s skilled in the way Tsubaki is. Everything done with meaning.  

He looks at himself closely. The sweater around his arms, the shiny polish on his fingers, the jewelry. The ornery of it all messy and ruined. Mascara rings around his eyes and his lipstick is swiped messily. All of that effort to make him so beautiful only to fuck it all up. It’s fitting. To be made and completely ruined by you in the same breath.  

When you return to him, you’ve got your strap harnessed and lube in your hands. Pour  it onto his pussy and rub it in with rough touches, doing the same to your silicone cock before tossing the bottle back towards the bed. You finger Haruka open with a hand on his hips, squeezing appreciatively at his ass through tights before tearing them even more.  

He groans, gripping onto the sturdy vanity for his life as you work him back open soft enough to be fucked.  

“Haru-chan,” You murmur, leaning forward to press a kiss the small of his beck where his dress rides up. “I’m going to fuck your pretty pussy and make you watch,”  

Your crass words sent heat flaring through up his spine. His nerves fray at the end. He pushes his hips back on instinct as you slip a third finger in, curling against his prostate. Nearly slipping, Haruka lets the sensation bleed through him, tip weeping as his pussy aches for the perfect stretch.  

“Deep breath, Haruka.”  

He takes in a sharp inhale as the head of your cock swells inside of him. Pushes past the puffy, pink rim of his hole and stretches around the sticky, veined shaft. His mind goes numb, body limp. Your hand pushes down on the curve of his back until he’s arching properly, feeling it deeper. His body and mind disconnect, acting on instinct as his teeth grind making up for the emptiness. The tables edge digs into his palms hard and Haruka shakes. His mouth drop opens, drooling from the corners of his lip.  

“Deeper,” He groans, can’t think, can’t think of anything but the delicious and obvious intrusion of your cock inside of him. “Harder, fuck.”  

“I wanted to be gentle,” You tsk then thrust. Slam yourself into the welcoming tightness of Haruka’s pussy without second thought, knocking all the air from his lungs. “It’s good to be gentle with girls. Haruka likes it rough though, right? You like your cunt mistreated even though you’ve got such a cute face.” 

Your hips grind against the back of Haruka’s ass as you bottom out and his cock twitches. His vision goes white, body taut before trembling violently. You pause. “Did you cum, Haruka? Did you cum from having your pussy filled?”  

He’s shaking. He can’t stand up properly. He’s so full. His stomach is so full, he’s so happy to be so full. It feels so good everything in his vision is white, smatterings of starlight behind his lids when they flutter closed. His pussy feels so good. He feels good for you. He’s so contented nothing else makes sense.  

“Haruka,” Your voice is wrecked. Like you were the one being devastated, not him. “Oh, my perfect girl. Cumming from my cock, so good. You’re a good girl, you’re such a good fucking girl. Such a tight pussy.”  

You fuck Haru with reverence. Pure delirium. His eyes widen frantically when you pull out and blow wider when you slam back in - forcing him to hold onto the vanity for dear life. You angle yourself and fuck Haruka hard and hot without so much as another word of warning. Praising him endlessly as you look at him in the mirror.  

“Fuck, look.” Your hands go around to his chin, cupping his jaw upwards with free hand until he sees himself in the mirror in sheer bliss. He sees you in the reflection, too, besotted. Flushed all over, eyes glazed over in complete hunger. Haruka looks embarrassing, looks euphoric and messy and so filthy he can’t believe its him he’s looking at. “Look how fucking pretty you are.”  

You pull Haruka up back his arms until his back is against your chest when you fuck him, sinking your cock so deep he feels it in his throat. He cums again, dry, from the inside just like you want. The wet slam of your hips is making it hard to think.  

“So beautiful. Gorgeous, aren’t you? So stunning even without all this. My beautiful Haruka’s and his pretty, perfect cunt. You’re made for me to fuck you like this. Made for me to fuck you like a girl,”  You babble, voice hoarse as you fuck into him hard and precises over and over and over. “Made for my dick. Should fuck you pregnant, keep you all filled until you carry my kid , turn you into my housewife.”  

It’s nonsense. Useless, horny filth. And it makes his head spin, makes his body ache so hot when you say it. Hearing you praise his cunt so affectionately, being made to take your cock. All of it makes his blood rush and turns him stupid. Impossible but his body aches at the possibility as it gets filled. Haruka can’t keep his head on straight, can’t find his tact or pull away from you fucking him so ruthlessly.  

He moans your name with his voice shattered, hands at his sides as you pound away. Dick slapping against the soft plane of his stomach each time, dribbling cum onto satiny floral and dying it white.  

His body goes taut. He can feel it. He’s going to cum again, going to cum harder.  

His voice is shot as he begs.  

“Touch me,” He whines. “Touch me,”  

“Touch where, baby? Say it.”  

He nearly buckles. “Touch my c-clit. Make me cum, fuck.”  

“Good girl,” You praise, so sweetly. “Such a good girl for me,”  

Your wet hands wrap around Haruka’s shaft and everything he was keeping pent up inside him explodes all at once. You barely stroke twice before his cock starts to twitch so hard it hurts, an orgasm hurdling towards him full speed before he nearly gets knocked down. His spine arches against you as he finally, finally gets the relief he wants and he cums.  

Haruka cums hard. Thick, heavy, wet ropes of white semen splash onto your vanity and mirror, into your fingers as you fuck him through his orgasm, jerking him off hard until he’s howling from overstimulation. He’s overwhelmed when you bottom out, sticky hand holding his hips as you grind.  

“I’m close,” You pant. “Hold still.”  

Haruka feels as you grind yourself against the leather harness of the strap with your forehead pressing his back and feels aroused all over again. His brain is so clouded with lust he can’t stop the words from escaping his lips as he looks at your face in the mirror trying to cum.  

“Cum in me,” He begs helpless. “Want you to cum in me,”  

And you push yourself into him further, deeper, hips rutting until you drop down in a shudder and scream. “Fuck. Shit! Cumming in you, fuck,”  

You cum and still drunk from the endorphins Haruka thinks its a waste you didn’t cum inside  - too deep in his head space to think about the whine from his lips.  

You breathe slow and kiss his shoulders and all over his neck. “Love you, Haruka.”  

He shudders. “…Love you too,”  

[mythicalmyles]

Male reader is a jock as he’s one of the popular kids, he’s also dating one of the popular girls. While Toby is the weird quite kid people pick on. One day Toby gets tired of the male bully as he fucks him on the empty locker rooms.

Hnnng lov the way u think bestie

College au

Noncon to start/forced feminization/cheating/cameras/daddy kink briefly

Nerd!Toby x Male!Jock!Botom!Reader

You impassively watched as your team mates foot slammed into Toby’s stomach, he let out a groan as he curled into himself. As much as you hated what they did you didn’t find yourself saying anything, Toby looked up from the floor and glared into your eyes.

You tightened your arm around your girlfriend’s waist, her laugh ringing through your ears alongside your team mates. You had caught the brunet eyeing you up a couple of times, his dark eyes bore straight through you. It left you feeling naked. You shivered at the thought before tugging your girlfriend away. “We cant be late again. I don’t want detention to mess up practise.” You muttered out before turning and making your way to the final class.

Normally they wouldn’t do this during school hours but Toby ended up cussing out Nicolas, infuriating the defensive midfielder. He was pretty hot headed already without someone pissing him off. Part of you really wished he’d put the anger to use on the field but alas, you didn’t want your head kicked in. Instead you kept your mouth shut like the dutiful striker you were. The best in the schools history even. At least several championships had been won down to you alone.

“Are you even listening?” Alicia whined as she whacked your shoulder, you pretended to wince and fall over. “Sorry.” You threw an apologetic look her way, her face twisting into concern. “You know I’m here right?” Her voice turning serious. You shook her off. “Just tired, didn’t sleep much last night.” She looked like she was about to push further before the bell cut her off, her eyes rolling. “I’ll see you later.” She waved you off and ducked into her class.

You felt your heart drop momentarily, you had left your books in your locker. A groan tore through your throat as you turned and quickly made a beeline for the locker room. You were lucky you weren’t too far from them, pushing yourself into the doors and letting them swing open.

The doors let out a bang as they closed behind you, your footsteps echoing throughout the empty room. You made your way to your locker and typed in the code. Sudden footsteps had you pausing, turning your head to the source of the sound. Toby suddenly rounded the corner, an uncomfortable feeling flooding your stomach. He looked at you, his face twisting into a smirk. “(Name).” He muttered out, his voice was rough and nasally. You hated to say you loved the sound.

He beelined for you, causing you to back up until you hit a wall. “T-Toby.” You choked out nervously, despite being the one in sports Toby had you beat on height. He easily towered over you, making you feel smaller the closer he stalked to you. His eyes were darker than usual, almost black. Before you could run his hands suddenly slammed down either side of your head, keeping you where he wanted you.

You couldn’t help but look down at his lips, he was so close you could smell him. He wasn’t exactly clean but he wasn’t unpleasant, the scents of his natural smell and the forest flooded your senses. “You and your-your little frien-friends piss me oh-off.” Before you could even try and mutter an apology he slammed his lips to yours, his hands jumping down to dig into your hips and press you into the wall.

Shock had you frozen in place, wide eyed staring into Toby’s. You quickly scrunched your eyes closed, mouth dropping open when Toby’s fingers dug into your sides. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, you whined before you could stop yourself. You tried shoving him off but he didn’t budge, you squirmed against Toby’s body. He shoved his thigh between your legs, pressing into your cock.

You gasped for air as Toby pulled away, saliva separating and falling to your shirt. “You’re one pre-pr-pretty bitch.” Your hands slipped down his chest as you regained your breath. “Wh-what?” Was all you could stammer out, drooped eyes staring up at Toby’s face. You had never seen this look on him before, despite the dried blood ringing his nose he looked smug. Cockily smirking down at you as you calmed from the aggressive makeout he had forced upon you.

“Eve-everytime i see you st-staring down at me with that fuh-fucking pathetic look on your face i want to fuck you st-stu-stupid.” The fact Toby had barely stuttered through his sentence had shocked you momentarily before his words sunk in. His words had your cock twitching and face turning red, causing his smirk to deepen. “Pr-pretty boys like you a-ah-are only good for fucking.” You felt your mouth drop open.

Toby felt his cock harden painfully as he watched you turn into a blushing mess on his thigh, feeling your cock harden against his leg. He ate it all up. He originally wanted to hurt you, at least get a jump on one of the bastards on the team. But that spaced out look on your face had him feeling a type of way.

He felt a familiar burning up his spine and neck before he twitched, face souring. You didn’t react. You didn’t pull a disgusted face.

Toby shot himself forward before another thought could cross his mind, hand sliding into your hair and pulling you close enough to mould your lips together, his other hand digging into your hip. He wanted to leave marks.

You couldn’t stop yourself from kissing back this time, falling and letting Toby have full control of you. You tried to hold back any whines but failed, Toby chuckling into the kiss. It almost felt unreal, like you would wake up any moment. Instead you felt your zipper being pulled down, the sound ripping through the room.

Toby pulled back, staring at you for a moment. “I wo-wo-wonder what yo-your little girlfriend-friend would think if she knew her b-bo-boyfriend liked getting fu-fuh-fucked by men.” You felt his hand pull back from your head, it dipped behind his back. “What ar-“ Your words trailed off as his phone appeared in your vision, eyes widening as you heard him take a picture. “Tha-thats for me.” He chuckled, slipping his phone back into his pocket. Before you could panic he shoved your lips back together, hands sliding straight down your jeans and grabbing your ass and pulling you further up his thigh.

You moaned into his mouth, melting into him. He had you whining when his finger dipped between to play with your hole, you hadn’t ever been touched there before. The new feeling was overwhelming, your fingers digging into Toby’s shoulders. You pulled away, gasping for air. Toby almost seemed to function without breathing, his lips moving to your neck. He pulled his hands out from your jeans, grabbing onto your shoulders and pulling your shirt’s neckline to expose your shoulder blade. You let out a yelp as his teeth suddenly dug into your flesh. “What-what the fuck!” You choked out, shivering as you felt Toby’s tongue lap over your fresh wound.

“Can’t ha-have you for-fo-forgetting who you belong t-to now.” Was all he said when he pulled back, admiring the new teeth imprint he had left. You opened your mouth to speak, Toby taking the chance to shove three fingers into your mouth. “B-be a good boy and su-suh-suck on these.” You obliged, tongue roaming over his digits. Toby stared straight into your eyes, you think you’d do anything for those eyes.

The way his gaze had you feeling pinned in place was intoxicating, you wanted more than just his fingers down your throat. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, moving to hook his thumbs into your jeans and yank them down. You felt embarrassed having your cock out, Toby was still fully clothed. His hands reached for the bottom of your shirt, tugging it up over your head. He left the shirt on your arms, pinning them above your head. You flushed, feeling embarrassment flood your system. “Stay sl-slut puppy.” You bit your lip, ashamed to admit the degrading nickname did something to you.

He tugged on your nipples, fingers toying with the buds as you twisted against the wall. “Tha-thats it pretty-pretty boy. Sta-stay.” He stepped back, hand dipping into his pocket to pull out his phone. He took a few more pictures of you like this, each snap if the shutter sending you redder and redder. “Toby.” You whined out. Shuffling uncontrollably against the wall, arms pinned above your head by your own shirt.

Toby shoved his phone back into place, quickly returning to you to slot your lips together. His hands went back to your ass, grabbing onto the flesh and spreading you apart. His lubed finger pressing against your hole, he played with you for a moment before sliding a finger into you. Your hands turned into fists as you winced at the feeling, it felt weird, almost uncomfortable. “Yo-you never be-been fucked?” You bit your lip as you shook your head, hair falling to cover your face. A wicked grin took over Toby’s features. “Im t-the first?” He looked terrifying in that moment, a blood thirsty look taking over his face as he suddenly looked down on you like prey.

You had a moment to ground yourself before he jumped on you, tongue down your throat as he slid another finger into you. You moaned into the kiss, drool dripping down your neck. You didn’t think it would feel this good, you could feel your mind slip away as Toby’s fingers drilled into you. The nails of his other hand bit into the flesh on your ass, you had no doubt he’d leave you covered in marks before he was finished with you. Suddenly he pulled your shirt off, allowing your arms to drop back down. They felt numb as you fell to Toby’s shoulder, hands tightly wound into his jacket. You barley comprehended the fact you were begging into his shoulder, the feeling of his fingers slamming into your prostate was entirely overwhelming as you drooled onto his jacket. “Please wha-what?” Your brain scrambled for what to say before choking out. “Ple-please daddy.” Was all you could choke out as you ground back onto Toby’s fingers. Toby suddenly stilled, your brain not catching up with what you had just said as you pulled back to look up at Toby in confusion.

A sudden hand around your neck had you snapping back, eyes wide as he slammed you back into the wall. His eyes entirely black as he stared into your eyes. He cut off your apology as you fumbled it out. “Say that again.” You blinked as you stared at him. “What?” His hand spread out, leaving you feeling almost unsafe when his fingers tightened against the vein in your neck. It didnt take long before your head began to get light. “Say. It. Again.” He ordered, eyes unblinking. You gulped before choking out. “Da-daddy please.” You swore you got whiplash with how quickly Toby pulled his fingers out of you and turned you around, pressing your bare chest flush against the wall.

You bit your lip as Toby pressed the head of his cock against your ass, you felt overwhelmed already and he hadn’t even tried anything. “Wai-Toby, please.” You begged out, nerves filling your stomach. “Be a go-g-good boy for m-me.” You scrunched your eyes shut, praying as you heard him suddenly rip something open. You peered over your shoulder, watching him pour a packet of lube onto a cock that had no chance of fitting inside of you. Your lips twitched as you tried to find your voice, you let out a choked gargle as you felt him push. “Wo-wont fit!” You cried out, pressing yourself closer to the wall. “I’ll make it.” Was all he said before he forced his way into you, his hand quick to cover your mouth and stop you from screaming. You shook and sobbed, grateful he had stilled. Once your breathing calmed he began pushing himself further into you, ignoring the way you squealed and fought against him.

It took a hot moment before his naval was pressed flat against your ass, tears dripped down your cheeks as you tried to steady yourself. You felt stuffed beyond belief, shocked you had actually taken him.

Toby found it harder and harder to hold back, finally seeing himself buried into you was almost the final straw. Instead he began biting into the skin on your neck, loving the way you gasped into his hand. He had complete control, cock buried deep as he fucked you against a wall. The thought alone snapped what little composure he had left and he suddenly pulled out only to slam back into your hole and bury himself deep. You were thankful for the hand currently keeping your mouth shut, moans and whines tearing through your throat as he began to fuck you. The wall was rough against your nipples almost leaving you sobbing as you tried to creat some distance.

You were surprised you hadn’t been split in two, you wouldn’t have pegged the schools freak to have the biggest cock you’ve ever seen. “Wh-who do you belong t-to?” You licked your cracked lips. “I belong to T-toby.” You moaned out as you felt his cock assault your prostate, back almost snapping as you stared at the roof. Pleasure was overwhelming as it flowed through your body, leaving you twitching. “Ye-yeah. Thats i-it.” Toby growled. The feeling of his cock sliding into you was unlike anything you had ever felt before, feeling him ram into your prostate over and over was never a feeling you’d thought you’d beg for. His hands came to wrap around your neck, you could actually feel his muscles like this. You were quite shocked, he had muscle, why didn’t he fight back? Toby noticed your mind wandering, his hands tightening around your neck as he fucked you at a break neck speed. You hoped and prayed that no one heard you whining like a whore for the school punching bag. “T-toby! Please! Ple-please! Ah! Daddy!” Were the last words you managed to get out before your orgasm smashed into you, leaving you cuming up the locker room wall. Your brain blacked out momentarily, causing you to fall into Toby’s arms limply. He wrapped his arms around your waste, keeping you in place as he began to ram into you. Oversensitivity almost had you crying out, shaking in Toby’s arms as he pounded into your ass. It didn’t take him much longer before he shot his load into you. “You… You came in me.” You muttered, shocked. “S’not like i ca-can knock you uh-up.” You flushed. “Pl-plus, it’s a little note to your li-lit-little girlfriend.”

[lune-redd]

Hello, it's Lelly.

As you may know, I have recently deactivated my Twitter account. A lot of people are speculating I left because I was being harassed for drawing my older depiction of Bubbles from The Powerpuff Girls as chubby. However... that's not the direct reason I left. In fact, I didn't really see much of the comments of folks on there getting riled up about it as I muted the tweet the morning I saw that it blew up. I was only merely aware of it all by being told about it from friends, with there being some other users on the site making other really fuckin' stupid comments about my art.

This does however lead into why I actually left Twitter, and it's because of Twitter's overall toxic nature. Overtime, I've really gotten sick of how absolutely revolting Twitter has become to experience. The site is basically built around dunk culture and doom scrolling. You know that one tweet of someone making an example of Twitter's utter stupidity by using pancakes and waffles as an example?

I bring this up because I think this fits my point about how Twitter has this thing of assuming the absolute worst about the most insignificant things, even the most innocuous. The "Bubbles obesity" comments weren't the only stupid comments that came out of that post. I also got a quote retweet that I was "forcefully feminizing Buttercup", even though the whole fucking point of that drawing was to depict a usually tough character in an unusual situation for her. I have also gotten stupid comments on other drawings though, like the one where Mitch pushes Buttercup down for trying to look taller than she is and I got called a misogynist for it, though I'm pretty sure that one was bait (Twitter users have a tough time figuring out what is and isn't bait, it's dunk culture that I'm about to talk about really doesn't help this).

The site's dunk culture is also really fuckin' bad. Quote retweets are a disease, as unlike Tumblr's reblog comments, quote retweets count as a different post. Someone disagrees with you? Show your audience how stupid they are on your page! Hey, are you trying not to see the most abhorrent racist statement imaginable? Well TOO BAD FUCK YOU here's a le epic own giving them all the attention in the world even though one of the most common internet rules are DON'T FEED THE FUCKIN' TROLLS YOU IDIOT. Oh hey, are you trying to explain how you prefer a certain artistic choice over another in something you like? Well you're a deranged ungrateful whiny nitpicker, get owned!

I've seen so many of my friends be belittled for simply discussing their artistic preferences of things they're passionate about. I had a friend who said he prefers the original Crash Bandicoot design over his redesigned look in Crash 4, and had legitimate reasons for why he felt that way (even if he didn't really explain them clearly), and he got dunked for it which made me mad. I'm sick and tired of it all. The reaction to my art is only a mere example of the shit I despise about that site.

I had been planning on leaving Twitter for quite some time, as my follower count was growing nearer and nearer to 10K. I had planned on leaving after 10K followers because that amount was wayyyy too fuckin big for me to handle. I'm a young and growing lad, and I felt it wouldn't be good for my mental sanity to handle all that, so I dipped. The amount of attention I've been getting is simultaneously both wonderful and extremely overwhelming. Even the explosion of new followers and asks on here is quite the load! (Seriously, calm the fuck down y'all) I am very grateful for all the supportive asks I've gotten even though I won't be able to answer them all, thank you all so very much.

tl;dr I didn't leave Twitter because I was being harassed or anything, but rather because of the site's overall toxic and belittling environment.

Adios.

-Lelly

[nerdlvr]

⋆₊˚⊹.𖥔 zoom, click, panic ! -> hyuck's group

pussy feens (virgins) !

lee donghyuck is obsessed with anything camera related, no wonder he's a photography major. unfortunately for him it's an expensive hobby for a broke student like himself. he just lost his job at the convenience store cause he was too scared to help a hot girl find flamin' hot cheetos... he's a 24 year old virgin can you really blame him?

women gender studies major mark lee has to be the face of feminism. this may just be a ploy to try and get laid though, not like it's working anyways, the girls think he's gay. he's the dad of the group always making sure his boys are in check, and respecting women like they should. they'd have to actually get near a woman to respect her though...

zhong chenle's head is probably so huge because of how big his brain is, i mean who else is successfully completing an aerospace engineer major? not only is he a super mega nerd but he has an unhealthy obsession with stephen curry... what girl would wanna sleep with that? but who needs girls when you have your best guy friends who also get zero female interactions?

finance bro jung sungchan should have an easy time getting a girl.. right? wrong. he has no rizz whatsoever. but he's pretty popular amongst other men so he gets the guys access to all the biggest parties. parties which they spend all night stuck to one another... maybe they should try splitting up next time...

park jisung is the embodiment of shyness. no one knows how he's the only one in the friend group to have lost his virginity. he's cute and soft spoken... the the public. but when he's with his friend group no one can make him stop talking, certified yapper. and what's worse is that his rants usually consist of stars and planets, blame it on his astronomy major... or was it astrology?

these virgins met on a porn discord chat. they realized that they had the same taste in twitter porn and eventually made their own group chat to share videos. with some time there were less porn links and more personal talk. how sweet a bond forged by naked women and tragic backstories. but don't underestimate them, they'd ride and die for each other.

yn's group -> masterlist -> intro

notes : literally all nerds cause they have nothing else to worry about but keeping their grades up tbh. didn't realize how smutty this smau is gonna be so pls prepare urselves for dirty bad words and descriptions im sorry 😞

taglist : @kimsaerom , @n0hyuck , @nanaxwi , @neverbeurs , @sunghoonsgfreal , @hizhu , @axo-l0tl , @strawberrysavi , @hyuckiebb-blog , @hyucktion , @4yunogf , @jakesbubu , @gacktsa , @iheartjayke , @annoyednblax , @luvvhaechan , @dudekiss3r , @yesohhsehun , @prettybluei , @soobinbunnie5 , @hyucksunset , @the-swageyama-tobiyolo , @byeonwooseokabs , @kodasity , @hyuckmoon , @catdonut657 , @lionzyon , @luvandletter , @defzcl , @nneteyamss , @222brainrot , @1lovejinki , @zzurao , @catpjimin , @multifandomania , @docilismo , @injunnie-lemon , @jeonghansshitester , @babyjenono , @wonswondrland , @livingdoll-hara , @minkyuncutie , @luvsooby