#i am specifically talking about fat bodies

[inviso-bill-strikes-again]

wow i make a lot of the posts on here huh

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

TW: discussions of body image/eating disorders/fat shaming/etc. Rant under the cut. This is about drag and body image as it pertains to Drag Race in the United States.

Thinking about Drag Race in the US. 16 seasons of Drag Race, 7 seasons of All Stars (excluding winners’ seasons), however many Vs The World seasons, and there has *never* been a winner that isn’t skinny.

Oh, some competitors get close. Supposedly, drag is open to all body shapes and sizes (with the right padding and shape wear and makeup). Supposedly, no matter your body, you can shapeshift into something beautiful. Over and over and over again, Drag Race has competitors who pride themselves on being “big girls”; people who grew up fatshamed, but turned it into their brand. Many of these queens are incredibly skilled performers, artists, and entertainers. And yet.

And yet.

Somehow, when the judging gets close, the fat queen usually gets cut.

I think about RuPaul’s background before Drag Race, as a runway model. How the Tic Tac Chit Chat is a running joke; “oh, RuPaul can’t finish a tic tac”. How many queens on the show are *frighteningly* skinny, and this is seen as a compliment. Producers will stitch together storylines of queens recovering from eating disorders, and in the same breath, cut to RuPaul and Michelle Visage complimenting a queen on how small her waist is in that corset.

I think about how many of these queens have had plastic surgery. At least one a season, usually more. How queens will come back for All Stars and I can no longer recognize them, not because they’re painting differently, but because their faces have entirely changed shape in the past few years. Hollower cheeks. Larger lips. Shaved jaws. Cutting and slicing for some proportion that makes them look slimmer and more feminine. How Morphine won the finale Lalaparuza Smackdown, with a $50,000 prize, and excitedly told the camera how she was going to “invest in her body”. “You get a BBL, you get a BBL, everybody gets a BBL!”.

Some of that is gender-affirming surgery, or other medically necessary surgeries. Detox got reconstructive surgery after a car crash, for example. A lot of it… isn’t. A lot of it is an “investment”. Part of the job.

I think about how a queen walked a runway with a look critiquing plastic surgery, all nude illusion and dashed lines, carving away at her waist and hips and butt. How Michelle Visage called it “overdone”. So many queens have talked about that already. It’s not new. It’s old news. Step up your game and talk about something more compelling.

16 years and not a single fat queen has won.

My friend and I aren’t watching seasons in order, but rather by how much they like a particular season. We’re working through season 7 right now. Violet Chotchki wins that one (sorry for spoilers). Violet also spends the entire season focused on emphasizing her body. How young she is. How skinny she is. Look, her “Death Becomes Her” runway is just her in the tightest corset possible, with an IV drip stuck into her arm. Cinched to death. The judges coo at how her waist is *so* small-

How many queens have come onto this show and bragged about losing 50 pounds? How many queens come back for All Stars, gleeful that they’re not a “big queen” anymore? Just “thick and juicy”, just “don’t need any padding”. You can have fat… as long as it’s in the butt or breasts and looks sexy enough. Otherwise it’s a hurdle to cry about in the cutaways. You can be as fat as you want on this show, sure, but if you lose weight you’ll get a camera in your face talking about how much “healthier” you are.

I think about how fashion runways are infinitely, horrifically worse. How most of these winners would, should they walk the runway, be put into a boring pencil skirt in the “plus size” category. They should be so lucky.

I think about Latrice. I think about Ginger Minj. I think about Eureka. I think about Mistress. I think about Megami in the Lalaparuza Smackdown. All these queens that get *so fucking close*. But some little thing-

Some intangible, unnameable thing-

Some unspoken qualia just barely makes their slim competitor stand out enough to take the crown.

I love drag. I really enjoy watching Drag Race. It’s a pocket of explicitly queer media I don’t get to see much of anywhere else. Disabled queens have won multiple seasons. People of color have won multiple seasons. Trans people have won multiple seasons. Just this year, the first East Asian queen won Drag Race in the US. Drag Race is incredibly inclusive to people from all backgrounds who are talented artists showing off their skills-

RuPaul makes another joke about skipping meals and getting surgery to maintain a queen’s “girl body”.

I turn the TV off.

[monstersholygrail]

Okay for the birds. Since you asked so nicely. (And because I am on my knees BEGGING for crumbs of this!!!) How would they react to reader living in a run down apartment? Like it takes a lot of money to keep a studio going, even with such... passionate attendees. Yeah they spoil reader at the studio, but what about seeing reader out and about? At home, out shopping?

For Scarlet Macaw Bird Hybrids the colony keeps coming at you like they’re vultures. They’re greedy for your cum, needy for the tight clench of your fat cunt milking their cocks dry, desperate for your cries of pleasure and who can force them out of you, and they crave the feel of your pliable flesh in their loving hands as they take you over and over again.

They’ve all lost themselves in you, as if you’ve pulled a veil of lust over their eyes and they are nothing but mindless machines set for your pleasure. It’s all they want. To feel that deep connection with you, their precious mate.

One after the other they fuck you dumb, bringing you release after release. Even as your body grows more tired they can see the need in your eyes and they won’t stop until their mate is fully satisfied.

As your next orgasm crashes into you, your eyes roll back, your body no longer having the strength to fully seize and shudder with the sheer force of your pleasure.

Your mates currently taking care of you each unload a hefty amount of cum inside your gushing walls. It isn’t until they slip out of you to lightly peck kisses along your face that they realized they fucked you till you passed out.

All the bird hybrids coo at you in worry, their wings flapping as they surround your plush fucked out form. All limp and beautiful. Their hands lovingly caress every inch of your body, making sure you’re alright.

“I’ll take her to her human apartment. Make sure she gets there safe,” one of the bird hybrids speak up.

Instantly a chorus of over bird hybrids chirp out their disagreement. All of them wanting to be the one who takes you home and tucks you into bed. Anything just to be with you for a little bit longer and to take care of you. But the first bird hybrid stands his ground and insists.

Taking you into his arms he begins to fly you home. You had never shown any of the bird hybrids in the colony where you lived but a few started following you home after your night class with them and soon after everyone knew where you lived and would follow you to make sure you got home safe after that class.

Silly humans would call it stalking. But they were only looking after you! They made sure you never got hurt and hurt anyone who dared try.

You didn’t live in a very good neighborhood after all, putting most of your money into your studio, so they had to take care of you. Even if that meant scaring off anyone who looked at you funny or with any interest.

But none of the birds had ever been inside your apartment before. As the bird hybrid uses your key to enter, his eyes widen in horror at the sight of your run down apartment. Their mate could not live like this. Not under their watch.

After tucking you into bed, the bird hybrid gets out his phone and enters their colony group chat dedicated specifically to talking about you.

“OUR MATE IS LIVING IN SHAMBLES!” The bird hybrid texts into the chat to convey his panic. Seconds later and the group chat is blowing up.

“I knew we didn't pay ‘nough for her classes!"

"Should demand she raise them…"

"Do dance teachers get random bonuses?"

“Would she feel insulted if we gave her money at the end of classes after we’ve fucked her raw?”

“Not if she’s too blissed out to notice us slipping the money in her bag.”

“Nah, she wouldn’t like. I think the humans call it Pros— Pollution? Or Hook— something to do with fishing, I don’t know. It’s not a good idea.”

“That’s not the point! What are we going to do about this? We can’t allow this to continue,” the bird hybrid types, interrupting their rambling.

“Could always take her back to the nest…” one hybrid suggests. He thinks about it for a moment before he shakes his head.

“An idea for another day. She wouldn’t go for it now. We need to fix up her place until she’s ready.” The bird hybrid with you concludes.

As you sleep the bird hybrid plans for everything. He sends for a whole bunch of them to head over to your apartment. A team of them flying around and taking what they need to help fix up your apartment while another team prepares the place for work.

When everyone arrives at your apartment things quickly dissolve into chaos. Of course, all the Bird Hybrids want to see you first sleeping all pretty and fucked out in your bed. The Hybrids at that night class immediately start boasting about how good they fucked you and others immediately raise their voices, pleading their own case.

It’s only when you shift on the bed that the Bird Hybrid that brought you home immediately shushes them.

“Stop, stop, stop! We can’t wake her,” he whispers.

Their eyes all fall back onto you, silently watching your plush figure squirm and settle back on the bed. The small action alone causing them to get a little hard and they have to force themselves not to clamber onto the bed and wake you up.

No, instead they get to work. Upgrading your apartment in every possible way they know how. Cleaning it up and making it into a real home. While also enforcing it and making sure you’re the safest person in the neighborhood.

Creating the near perfect nest. Only second to their own they hope to bring you to someday.

They can’t wait for you to finally wake up. They all imagine the look on your face when you rouse from your slumber to see them all there and your apartment completely changed. But most of all… they can’t wait for the thank you gifts you’re bound to give them all.

You have to break in your new apartment somehow, don’t you?

[kaermorhenatnight]

Since I am really struggling with food and my body image recently and dungeon meshi is my ultimate comfort watch here you go

Dungeon meshi boys finding out you're insecure because you're fat/chubby 

Laios:

Doesn't understand the concept 

Absolutely cannot wrap his head around why would anyone feel insecure about that

Like, it's a body?

You would really need to explain the mean comments you get, the pressure that was put on you, maybe by family members, the issues fatphobia causes you

And then he would be so soft, trying to explain to you that it's a body you live in, of course it's a good body

That you shouldn't care what people are saying because if they're judging you for something normal like that, they're not worth your time

It would be very cheesy but so painfully sincere

Senshi:

Is immediately supportive

He tells you that it really doesn't matter what others say, and that so many different things come into play in terms of person's weight, and different bodies just naturally will have different perfect weight

He tells you that it's perfectly okay to enjoy food (because of course it is)

It feels kinda like the birds and the bees talk he gave to Chilchuck - full-on dad-mode, explaining and comforting you, backing it up with his knowledge about food and nutrition 

He doesn't say anything specifically about this but from that moment on he always pays extra attention to whether you're eating enough, to make sure you won't let the mean comments get into your head and that you won't try to cut down your portion sizes - malnutrition is the biggest threat!

Chilchuck 

This definitely comes up when he makes a snarky comment about you being heavy (to be fair, he's just a wee guy, everyone is heavy compared to him)

When instead of giving him a witty response you just turn away, tears in your eyes, he knows he fucked up big time 

He immediately apologizes, tries to explain he didn't know it's something that bothers you

He walks up to you later when you're setting up camp to rest, to get you alone

He blushes like crazy telling you you're so pretty and hot and he would never guess you would be insecure about how you look

He definitely makes sure to not make jokes like that again and if he hears anyone else fat-shaming you, let me tell you, you never realized there are so many insults in his mother tongue

[nana-au]

𝐈 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄...

 𝜗𝜚 Satoru Gojo Prince AU ♡ part six

 𝜗𝜚 Summary: satoru dreams of you; eagerly awaiting your response. story summary based off of this drabble

𝜗𝜚 Warnings: cunnilingus, male masturbation. MDNI

 𝜗𝜚 wc: 1,596

𝜗𝜚 an: this update is entirely skippable, and i am requesting minors do not engage with this specific part. adults who are not a fan of explicit smut should skip this part too. the story reads normally with or without this chapter. thank you for respecting my wishes.

┊p1┊p2┊p3┊p4┊p5┊p6┊𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠... p7┊

Your quill hits paper once Satoru’s head hits his pillows and the potential contents of your note send his tired mind reeling. It’s only expected for his dreams to contain the potential outcome of your writing. It starts with you - all teary-eyed and sniffly as you scratch down your fears for Satoru’s eyes to consume. You tell him how it terrifies you to make your feelings known to the world and enter the judgmental eyes of the public and through the dark smudges of your ink he sees your blown out pupils - pulling him into your figure through the words on the page. Your body melts from his touch after being apart for so long - your sobs quieting as Satoru soothes you like he’s meant to. His hand finds your hair and he pets you lovingly, hushing your worries. “I’ll protect you, I promise,” his mouth tickles the curve of your ear as he whispers to you. “I won’t let them speak poorly about you,” he clicks his tongue, like the thought of someone daring to talk down on you deeply offends him. “You’re safe with me,” his lips touch your ear as he plants kisses, hands roaming your body to try to remedy your time apart. His words are doing something to you and he knows because he simply knows you too well. You can’t hide the way your body presses against his when he brushes his fingertips against your sensitive skin, exciting the Prince from how responsive you are. He pinches the fabric of your dress, the cotton material turning into luxurious silk that glides between his fingertips. 

His world spins and the two of you are in bed now, the blue night gown adorning your body slowly peels up from his doing, exposing the plush skin of your thighs. “Satoru-” you purr, biting your lip as his hands grab the plump fat of your sides, massaging his fingers into your thighs. You sigh, breath catching when his large palms grab you possessively; working his fingers deep into the muscles of your legs, his thumbs coming dangerously close to where your thighs meet your center - hiccupping as he pays extra attention to the spot that makes your stomach lurch and toes curl. “Satoru-” you whine again, noticing he is using the back of his hands to slowly inch your nightgown higher onto your body, threatening to reveal what’s underneath. You call out his name once more and he revels in the sound; adoring the syrupy tone you use to say his name. It sounds sleepy and desperate, with a hint of uncertainty. 

“Do you trust me?” he asks upon noticing your hesitation; his voice an octave deeper than usual and his eyes as dark as his intentions. His question is a nod back to the first intimate moment you both shared, knowing that you would recognize it too - relying on the pent up emotions of the unsatisfying end to your shared kiss to will you to let him continue. You look back at him, lids heavy with restless desire and he knew you wouldn’t say no. Couldn’t say no. “I’ll go slow,” he promises you, easing your apprehension and allowing you to melt into his touch. He adds his mouth into the mix, leaving slow, sloppy kisses to the skin of your inner thighs and your hips buck from the attention. You’re watching him intently, your unwavering gaze following his every move as he marks your body lovingly. He doesn’t bother to keep it clean - unable to stop his spit from staining your skin as he sloppily kisses your warm body. He makes a move to lift up your nightgown to your belly button - exposing the wet patch of your white panties while Satoru’s face rests between your thighs. He can sense how shy you suddenly become, your hand covering your mouth as you gawk at his blue eyes - glued to your twitching center. His thumb reaches up, cautiously swiping at the wet fabric of your gusset; gauging your reaction. You squirm, letting out a squeak and he continues prodding at your clothed entrance; dragging his knuckle against your folds. Your panties mold to the shape of your plump lips and Satoru shudders. His thumb inches up to your clit, softly circling it and taking note of the way your hips shudder from his curious attention. Satoru had never been with a woman and while he rubbed you through the thin fabric of your silk panties he took note of every curve of your twitching center. All though a virgin; Satoru had enough of a grasp through his extensive research he found in the pages of his favorite erotic literature. He was sure you would enjoy what he wanted to do to you - trusting the words on the pages he studied late at night while picturing you. “Such a beautiful and deserving Princess,” he mumbles, fingers still prodding and rubbing your puffy folds. You jump from the nickname, unsure of the new title he placed on you as he continued his sweet talking. “No one could ever keep this from me,” he spoke, “-and they would die from my hands if they tried,” he promises, eerily serious before leaning in to kiss your cunt; lips pursed against your pulsing clit. He loops his fingers into the gusset of your panties, pulling them down slowly; watching the sweetness pooling from your center sticking to the silk, creating strings while he dragged the article from your center down your legs. He licked his lips, already anticipating what he was going to do - enjoying how you fully trusted him - not asking questions but allowing him to show you just how much he loved you. It’s almost puppy-like the way his tongue lolls out of his mouth and attaches to your clit, dragging the rough muscle against the pearl between your legs. He messily licks, not bothering to make deliberate attacks to your core; instead he can’t help himself from desperately lapping up your juices. His tongue smears his saliva filthily against your wet heat, delving his tongue into your cunt to taste you from the source; groaning as the sweetness graces his taste buds. The saccharine juices do little to slow his mounting desire, causing him to grind his member against the mattress, itching for some kind of release while he gives you yours. He takes a moment to look up at you - your eyes painting the story of your love. Full of adoration, loyalty, lust, and weakness that he recognizes from before his world fell apart. Through his dreams he can feel the dagger of your raw emotion piercing his dormant heart - opening himself up to the reality of what he always knew. He needed you. All of you - and you did too. He was sure of it. He would do whatever it takes to see you look at him that way again.

While his subconscious processes the meaning of you in his dreams he continues performing cunnilingus. His spit trails from his lips while he messily kisses you and you’re squirming - unable to slow the roll of your hips while he repeatedly kisses and licks your sensitive bundle. “I need you,” you needily whine, gripping his white locks and keeping his soft lips attached to your lower pair, moaning breathlessly. “Satoru…” you’re begging and he peeks up at you, dragging his tongue slowly while he waits for you to make your point. “I want you Satoru,” you trail off, chest stuttering with every weak breath you take. Satoru pauses, turning his head to leave chaste kisses to your inner thigh before asking you to use your words. “All of it Satoru,” you cry, “I want all of it. All of you, Satoru,” you beg and he groans loudly, his brain growing fuzzy realizing what you were asking of him. He becomes too enthusiastic though, dick painfully hard and tip weepy - staining his sleep trousers which causes him to stir - regretfully departing him from the sensual scene his mind conjured during his slumber. 

“No!” he chokes out, waking up to a cold bed. His cock pulses regardless of the fact you’re not there and he reaches his hand down, tugging roughly on his length. He bites his lip, the sweaty white strands of his hair stick against his forehead while his taut stomach lurches every time his fist meets his sensitive tip - squeezing it harshly - picturing your squelching cunt instead of his pathetic hand. He reaches his climax quickly, using the visions of you begging for him in his dream to guide him to his peak. He pants while he cums, slowing down his strokes while his hot sperm spurts against his belly. He hisses from the contact - his surroundings slowly coming back to him while he gasps for breaths. He closes his eyes, scrunching them to distract from the feeling of tears starting to pool. 

He craves your body long after his release, unable to get the image of you underneath him out of his mind. And maybe it’s denial or delusion or lunacy or maybe even all three but he knows that is how you truly feel. It has to be. How could it not? How could he be the only one tortured by the absence of his other half? How could you not feel the need between you two that had been there since the beginning. Not just a sexual need - but an emotional and physical need too. The need to touch pinkies…to touch lips. 

He anxiously awaited the contents of your letter. 

┊p1┊p2┊p3┊p4┊p5┊p6┊𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠... p7┊

taglist: skipping for nsfw updates

(ty for all the support! comment to be added/removed)

[strawberryicedcookies]

Girl I wanna manifest my ideal body, any tips? 😭😭

i actually manifested my dream body so i think im pretty qualified to give tips 😭😭 manifesting appearance change seems to be complicated for so many people because it becomes hard to ignore the 3D when you see it every single day. You have to remember that your subconscious mind does NOT have eyes! so say you wanna manifest a fat ass, but everytime you look in the mirror its flat, THAT IS JUST THE 3D, tell yourself that your ass is fat and your subconscious will believe that your seeing a fat ass 😂 (does that make any sense 😭). i manifested weight gain because i used to be so skinny, and it was one of the more difficult things to manifest because i would affirm for hours, then look and the mirror and see a twig, and then i reacted negatively and fed my subconscious mind negativity. DONT BE LIKE ME, your are constantly manifesting, YOUR DOMINANT THOUGHTS MANIFEST. thats why robotic affirming works so well, because you having a fatass becomes your dominant thought because thats what your affirming 24/7. i know i talk about her alot but ‘high frequency guru’ has a desired appearance affirmation tape and i couldn’t recommend it enough. Also i recommend finding an influencer that has your ideal body and as your watching them, be affirming, thats what i do to keep me motivated 😭 You’re gonna have to really persist! persist persist persist, i cant stress it enough. Also please remember your not “manifesting your ideal body” Your affirming the body you already have. Yes, im saying you have it! its done! Idk if you seen my post about the 3D, but if you have, you would remember i said “everything you see in this reality is a reflection of the spiritual” meaning everything you see already happened before, that is whats happening with your body. You already have your desire in the spiritual, persist until you see it with your physical eyeballs.

say it with me “i am perfect, i look exactly how i want to look, i have the body ive always desired, i an complete, i am content”.

i hope this was helpful, if you have any other specific questions, PLEASE ask me!! i am open to any asks (i actually love answering them!!)

bye happy manifesting babes!!

[newwavesylviaplath]

there's this one specific take i have on feminism that borders on straight up man hating territory and ive never voiced it cuz i was afraid i was gonna be called a crazy bitch who took things too seriously but i just saw someone bring it up on instagram so fuck it.

!!warning angry woman with beliefs that aren't the most politically correct!!

i fucking hate how much we've romanticized and idealized 'dad bods' not that having a 'dad bod' is a bad thing; i'm all for the body positivity movement, i don't think anyone should be ostracized for their weight AND i have no problem with people whose preference actually is 'dad bods' HOWEVER i hate that it's become almost a trend because it's straight up the perfect example of a double standard. you don't see anyone talking about how 'mom bods' are in and even if u do i guarantee it's not in the mainstream. i'm not saying men being chubby is bad in any way but what i am saying is that we cut men so much slack when it comes to physical appearance and they do not reciprocate whatsoever. same thing with like 'hot rodent boyfriends' or men with big noses- all of these things are fine within themselves and should not be vilified as for the most part we cannot do anything to change our appearance but i hate that the media has been constantly pushing the same ideals on womens looks since the literal fifties when men don't even have to dress nicely or GOD FORBID try and take care of themselves and they'll STILL be able to do whatever the hell they want.

i'm not saying all men have to be jacked. i'm not saying being fat is bad. i'm saying that we never let this shit slide with women so it's fucked that we do with men.

[yawnderu]

hello! i saw that you are accepting requests. love your ideas in your ghost's situationship piece, and i am wondering if you have ideas on how early relationship with nikto would be? please don't feel pressured to do this, just would love to see your thoughts! sfw or not, all up to you! thank you, have a good day :3

hii!! I remember talking about this with my friend sjdpenwo

God, a situationship or very early relationship with Nikto would absolutely break you too. This man is not fully there anymore— a shell of who he used to be. He's always angry now, has a distorted mind and a disfigured face he doesn't let you see no matter how much you ask. If you ask a lot, he'd immediately drop you. Respecting his boundaries is a huge part of being with Nikto, and that includes getting used to the possibility of never seeing his face.

As a situationship, he's rough during sex, downright degrading you as he takes you like you're nothing but a hole he can fuck whenever the voices get too loud and he can't quiet them down. If he fucks you hard enough to silence them, things might work out.

Curses and degrading words spill out of his lips like a filthy prayer as his thick cock slides in and out of you, his gloved hands holding the curve of your waist with a bruising grip as he pulls out before slamming himself all the way back in, deep groans escaping his lips when he feels your cunt tighten up around him.

He knows you like it rough, such a pretty girl always available for him, his hand wrapping around your throat as he squeezes hard, cutting your air supply as he slams his hips against you harder and deeper, his balls slapping your sensitive clit with each thrust.

Your face is warm and your eyes are teary, the pleasure of being degraded like this and fucked so hard by the Russian man mixing in, not even managing to moan anymore as his hold on your neck is too strong. He can feel your body writhing underneath him, cunt getting even tighter around his fat cock as your orgasm hits. It doesn't take long for him to follow, barely managing to pull out before he's on his knees in bed, pumping his cock a few times as his cum spurts out all over your face.

He doesn't help you clean up, doesn't even say a word other than telling you he'll be back later that month, about to leave for deployment. He's as cold as his mother country, and it would take months of this and a long talk before he tries to treat you like an actual person rather than a hole he can stick his dick in.

You convince him to stay sometimes by making traditional Russian food, welcoming him from his deployments with something tasty to eat, encouraging him by saying he needs the energy to fuck you. He eats in another room and alone, not wanting you to see a single inch of his scarred face, but he always washes the dish he almost licked clean. He rewards you for your efforts, of course, his bare hand rubbing on your puffy clit while he lets you ride his cock, pale blue eyes closing in pleasure as he shoots ropes all the way inside your cunt for the first time.

Things slowly change after that day— he comes home to you immediately after his deployments, but he doesn't always fuck you, simply staring at you as you cook or wrapping his arms around you from behind, his fingers deep inside your cunt as you try your best to finish the meal while he's making you cum, words of praise in Russian and English being whispered into the nape of your neck from behind. He makes you lick his fingers clean off of your own cum, painfully hard cock pressing against your back, yet he doesn't fuck you yet. No, he has better things planned.

He comes back to your room once he's done eating, climbing into bed with you and putting you on his lap. His flight suit carries a small book he got specifically just for this, your back against his chest as he reads to you in Russian, deep voice calmer than you've ever heard. At some point he decides to switch to English, reading getting slightly slower ad he thinks about the right way to accurately translate the sentences. It's a change of pace, but it's always welcomed.

The moment your relationship becomes official, you got yourself a boyfriend and scary dog privilege whenever he's not deployed. This behemoth of a man follows you everywhere, one of his massive hands on your lower back, spreading its warmth all over your body.

While Nikto is an extremely difficult person, once he knows you're the one, he's not letting you go. He doesn't scream during arguments, simply staring at you for a second before leaving the house, taking a walk to calm down. He doesn't want to mess things up, not with you, not when he already has an engagement ring for you even though you've been dating for months. When he comes back with a clear mind, he communicates with you calmy, trying his best to understand the issue and actively working on fixing it.

Once your relationship advances, you'll start to notice this broken man worships you like a God.

[raidenssblog]

Wanna see some ass shakin'?

Pairing: giyuu X male reader

Genre: smut

Warnings: praise, dirty talk, slight degradation, mention of belly bulge, dumb fucking, non con words (stop, no, slowdown), one fem term for giyuu

Summary: fucking giyuu dumb (can you tell I like sub giyuu???"

A/n: found this little thing in my drafts and incompletely forgot about it. It's shit but I need to post something:(

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It's the middle of the night, giyuu had the day off so you decided he deserved a little reward for his hard work slaying demons.

Moans and the sound of skin slapping filled your shared room. Your hands kneaded the fat of his hips before sending a harsh slap on his ass followed by a scream. "Yeah? You like that huh?" You questioned slapping him again.

"MHM! Y-yeah i-FU-ckkk" his hands were gripping the sheets and drool was running down his lip. Your thrusts somehow quickened and hardened.

"s-slow down" leaning forward with a whine, giyuu reached back trying to slow your thrust to no avail.

"you were practically begging me a few hours ago, rubbing up against me and whining like the little girl you are" you gripped his hand and locked them behind him before starting your thrusts up again.

Moans and broken sobs could only be heard from the man underneath you. If you could see his face it would probably be red and flustered, drool on the corner of his mouth and eyes rolling to the back of his head.

He was out of his mind just because of your dick.

You liked when it was like this, being able to fuck him so hard he forgets everything but your name.

Everytime you two would sleep together you would ruin the poor boy but god, did he love it and so did you.

Racking your eyes down his back, your eyes fix on his ass, more specifically the way it would bounce when your hips would meet. Thrusting a little bit hard a yelp came from giyuu, but you didn't care.

Reaching down and tangling your fingers in his hair, you pull his flush to your chest, thrusting again you eyed his stomach.

"aww look baby, you dicks that deep in you it's bulging out! You are tiny compared to me" giyuu looked down before throwing his head back with a scream. You, yet again, sped up your thrusts.

"no l-look down now. Look at how good, fuckk, good I fuck you. How deep I am inside you" you said while forcing him to look the his stomach and the bulge your cock was creating.

Tears streamed down his cheeks, fighting around you, you knew he was close. "You close baby, wanna cum all over yourself huh? Fuck I'm close too" you hand jerked his hair so he could face you before smashing your lips against his, spit dripped down your chins, teeth clashing and your tongue down his throat.

"y-yeah ngh, fuck Im so close" another moan fell from his lips, he had fallen from grace yet he was still jaw dropping while he was moaning and squeezing around your cock.

"yeah want me to fill you up nice and full, breed you hard huh? Bet you'd want that, have my cum dripping out of you" the only answer you got from him was a 'mhm'

Your breathing staggered, abs tightening and hand gripping him even harder. One hand heft his hip and jerked him off quickly, the other fondled with his nipple.

"FUCk I'm gonna f-uckin cum, oh my god! Please please can I cum please" he begged, his entire body shaking and eyes rolling back again.

"yeah f-fuck cum, make a mess for me like the good slut you are hmm" you said jerking him off even faster.

"NGH. THAN-K YOU FUCKKK!" Ropes of white cum landed on your hands and the bed sheets.

That was more than enough for you to reach your orgasm, your breath stopped, thrusting deeper in the man you can with a low groan while giyuu whimpered at the warm feeling.

Catching your breaths you kissed his neck and his jaw before his lips. "Did so well for me, all the time, good boy"

"mhm, thank you" he reached for your jaw to kiss you again.

"anytime pretty thing"

[therealslimshakespeare]

🍸 Harry Crosby headcanons

18+ -helluva lot of nsfw under the cut but interspersed with a lotta fluff and domesticity…to me that’s the appeal of this man, cannot be separated one from the other: the unassuming sweater wearing vet at the block party is also a man of hidden depths.

Long promised and woefully incomplete, the word count was getting out of hand so I’m tossing it out, there’s more where this came from. Not edited so, apologies

Entirely co-written by myself and my comrogue @crazymadpassionatelove , enhanced and bedazzled by chats with @ab4eva including special additions from other guests who commented under my announcement post, credit is given at each specific point for their contributions

|screencap cred grabbed from: @hawkinsfuller

First off let me say it’s been ages since I read A Wing and A Prayer. I remember loving it, loving him and I cannot stress how much I respect and admire the real Harry Crosby and his Jean, the Missus of our dreams.

This is purely for fun, a heavy mix of both Boyle’s portrayal and a tad of Crosby’s real life vibes as taken from his accounts by me. Sometimes you gotta take historical figures’ virtues in one area -say navigation and math- and translate it to the more suggestive aspects of life -say, how to find a clitori- *gunshot*

Because this man’s biography is the most oral-leaning, drink-your-respect-women-juice book ever. Ok, almost ever. For a wwii book at least. Uhem so -I am prejudiced, sue me.

See, sometimes it’s the quiet, stressed ones with a self consuming desire to please who have the cozy sweaters and the attentive appreciation for your interests and the stubby fat schlongs and the propensity to keep you in suburban comfort all your days

The compulsive drive to call you “button” and be on time for church and thank you for your scrambled eggs each morning with eager kitchen countertop oral before waking you children up with annoyingly soft catchphrases they’ll recite fondly at his funeral: “rise and shine” etc

Also back to the perfectly respectable schlong for just a moment -This is a Thing! Justice for the perfectly adequate plug stoppers, not everyone needs a rolling pin, who can resist giving head when the head is the same gorgeous color as his lips?!

Mr Crosby is skipping off to lecture college kids about literature post-war with a pep in his step that you put there without fail, you can’t help it, it’s as essential as the matching “his and hers” coffee mugs you bought during your honeymoon

Cookies slightly burned cuz you’re busy as bunnies in the bathroom while the kids ride bikes in the cul-de-sac is a Crosby staple

This is a man who as husband keeps you well supplied with mixers and microwaves and cute little nighties and also loves your brain -SCORE.

Loves to gift you with bath oil and fun stuff to smell good. He's into lavender. It benefits him in the end, loves to sit on the edge of the tub and just talk with you for ages

Croz’s go-to distresser is to have Jean sit on his face until his vision spots

She knows as soon as he walks in the door. Fixes him a Shirley Temple, takes him by the hand to the bedroom and …..boom.

De—stressed

As for the ptsd nightmares? He just barely starts to thrash in his sleep and Jean is rolling that man over and taking matters into her own hands

You’re Jean now, you do realize that don’t you? It was never ever going to be anyone but Jean

This man leaves love letters on your pillow, in your apron pocket, in the dash of your car anywhere at all that you’re likely to be. All of this even though he’s gonna be home by six that evening.

Also, hear me out: lots of evenings he just lays down next to you for ages, facing each other on your sides, absentmindedly mapping your body with his calloused palms and fingering you for ages while talking about Persuasion.

Actually gives a shit about your opinions too, and not in the way of wanting to argue them. When you make a good point his eyes get even droopier and he grabs your neck and…

“You're one smart cookie Mrs Crosby”

“My clever, wise, beloved…”

Honestly though, deep connections and the ability to go vulnerable, and if those moments are often concluded with little laughs to shake off the moment -it doesn’t diminish it

Can actually talk about dying to you, not in a morbidly preoccupied way, but he can face it and admit it and be vulnerable enough to acknowledge the likelihood

Then get on with what needs doing

He appreciates how well you grow to know him, and he in turn makes a lifelong study of you

Also, this man is so highly attuned to your well being.

Yes you have to put up with his stress but for you? He will man-up repeatedly and without thought. He doesn’t even think twice about just up and leaving whatever situation is tiring you. did you see him hop up to get the fuck outta that bar fight? Yeah so, you’re bored? Tired? Stressed? It’s not even machismo it’s just a homebody not giving a fuck with the subtext of “my wife and I would like to go home and read and cockwarm”

Often gives the shiftiest excuses to army buddies and coworkers just to go home and hang with you, swears he has to repair that squirrel feeder -or that an alligator is in his swimming pool, “sorry guys maybe drinks next week”

Don’t tell the guys but…HE PAINTS YOUR TOENAILS

Maybe some of your high school friends snickered about Harry Crosby way back when. Making googly eyes at you and barely getting out the most stammered greetings? Bookish and a little clumsy at times?

Ha, you won in the end

He comes home in one piece, that beautiful schlong still intact

you prayed for that ok?

“Lord keep my husband safe -- and his girthy manhood in tact as well” …for the babies you’re hoping for of course...just that… kneeling in silk pajamas each night, adding this addendum with a blush but was always faithful to keep it in your prayers

Sometimes you have that thought in church as well...so you has to take a couple deep breaths and calm yourself...it's because you want children...not because you’re already so sprung off this man's dick after only a couple weeks of married life.

weeks that feels like a lifetime ago now, by the way

Prim and lovely Jean Crosby staring off into stained glass worlds thinking of having her tight little hole tugged open and her guts rearranged, it’s even worse than her thoughts prior to the wedding, because she’s had the experience, then suddenly it was ripped away

And she’s empty and scared to death for him

She gets asked to sing at the funeral of a lieutenant who never even got off the ground during a training flight,

work and church and such are hopeless distractions

Wanders through the department store wondering if every other wife misses this way, does everyone feel the same primal ache?

Dear Jean Crosby terribly worried she’s a freak yet entirely unrepentant for it

But ya know what’s probably funny? Across the ocean Harry Crosby is sometimes so direly missing his wife in the carnal way that he just about spaces out too, and god knows there’s zero privacy anywhere and the showers are the showers but like???? it’s just a no-go most times and everyone gets very confused when he’s in this mood?? Not at all suspecting baser distractions are what’s at play. Somehow someone figured it out, maybe he actually snapped a little about having five seconds to himself while reading a letter and they’re like

OH

And somehow there seems to suddenly be five minutes or so when NO ONE but Crosby is in the showers?!

It only takes him two minutes to get there but he needs to stand there catching his breath and clutching at his heart while he thinks of Jean sprawled beneath him

This is probably Douglass’ doing? Because he’s a good dude, he doesn’t underestimate Croz AND he’s a dirty little bastard himself

“Fellas, the man got himself a wife while half of you guys are virgins? Of course he has urges?”

In a quiet, rare moment, Gale bends his ear -Harry is so modest and low key...unlike some folks *looking at you Bucky*- “So, uh, where'd ya say you and the missus went off to before ya came here?“

Gale’s gotta casually open the door for this conversation “Lots of good sights to see? I, um, haven't done much traveling myself”

It takes Croz a few conversations until he realizes just what Gale means, until then there’s a lot bewildered eyebrows at the inquiry and bashful appreciation for the interest: “Major Cleven I-I already told you, sir, we had a little cabin in the Alleghenies for a week?“

He's been telling Jean about Major Gale Cleven, about how she'd really like him. Gale is a good fella. He tells her about all their "travel talk"

Until one day Jean writes back: “Oh honey, that Cleven of yours is a virgin”

Whether Harry divulges to Gale anything he learned about ladies in that little cabin in the mountains writhing before a fire on a bearskin rug, that first time Harry actually didn’t stop and ask if Jean was dying every time she made a noise but instead, kept going until her cried properly built and she screamed…

well, it was probably an abbreviated account that mostly consisted of “wives are just wonderful people, Major Cleven” with a far off look in his eyes

Gale leaves him to it after all- Harry was married for like 3 seconds before he left, It's literally either playback of the last horrific mission or thinking of the curve of her spine

He gets the dreamiest look on his face, eyes all shiny, mouth a little slack

Somehow these two can be so passionate and yet it’s so wholesome and good and angelic?!!! It’s the allure of them

Because it’s all in these gentle and safe and good boundaries? Like it isn’t complicated and yet it’s not simple and it’s neither settling nor is it turbulent. something to be said for “doing it right”

They genuinely thank God for each other, they’re so sure it was always intended to be just them

I have 1k of headcanons just for the homecoming ok? Y’all will have to request those separate

But once home:

The eye contact they make at social events?? It’s a whole language, the most loving and adorable thing ever

He may not be a real gem of a singer but he’s an excellent hummer. so much gentle humming around the house while he’s fixing the stove light or rocking a baby to sleep or-

You know what I mean don’t you? Some men can just humm and you’re instantly wet? No I don’t mean humming a Billie Holliday tune

I mean humming when you make a new reaction to his incessant fingering while he’s reading, makes him look away from the page and arch a brow, highly inquisitive puppy dog look on his face, reading glasses pulled down.

*a new spot? After all this time? Must investigate further*

This man, when in his element, is a goddamn tease, he’s impossible, he’s goofy, he makes sex the joyous sacrament its supposed to be every damn time and he ain’t shy to remain stark naked for ages

Praise kink for miles in that, once you’ve praised him, he will keep doing whatever earned it for the next two hours. Brace yourself

He can recite your favorite literature passages (he knows them and took pains to memorize them by your tenth anniversary) when he’s gently plowing you from the back with his hand on your neck and your ear lob in between his teeth

He’s a biter my friends -gotta keep quiet somehow, can’t scar the passel of children y’all made, after all

So many excuses given to kids about “mama and I need to talk about the mortgage” -very rarely is mortgage even thought of once the door is closed and locked

But that brings us back to the early days, it’s one thing to know someone so well after all those years but the early days?

Two Virgins named Jean and Harry went straight from the chapel to fucking like Bunnies before he went to war

Harry had done his research tho. All that reading…

Harry Crosby totally ate his wife out on their wedding night.

even though he’d never really seen a full vagina before

he’s a bit methodical, yeah? At first? with a hint of overly flustered and terribly delighted

So I’m just picturing him like hunkering down there, tentative but firm hands on your thighs: “to get my bearings, honey pie” as he takes in the lay of the land

because there’s a lot happening down there on a lady, ok? -there’s petals and more petals and slippery slopes and little buttons and a tiny hole that has to be for pee, no way he’s supposed to go in that one?! but, but she doesn’t have another? Well the backdoo- no can’t even think of that. Oh god ok, ok, vaginal opening, -I guess that’s a vaginal opening?! and due north, a little button that makes her squeak when I touch it. ok ok, might as well start there…

I can see him with a metaphorical pencil behind his ear, ready to jot down notes

Jeanie finally sighs and grips him by the ears and hauls him up for a kiss and just grinds against him and insists it’s lovely

“just kiss me, silly.” she says to him after awhile.

“Mmm, I do like kissing you, Jean” he grins back

he’s naturally kissing his way to her boobs and staying there a lovely long time but she starts pushing at his dark head, *hint hint* lower down her belly and lower, and lower and he’s so caught up he doesn’t even realize it until there’s a sweet little patch of curls under his chin and he looks up with the oddest expression of curiosity and doubt on his face only to be met with Jean’s expectant eyebrow

She wouldn’t want me to?—-*ah, she just face planted me in pussy, ok then*

Lapping at it with the biggest grin, there may or may not have been some noise complaints

the whole apartment complex just knows he’s a good husband, never would peg him as a stud if you met him in the hallway but, Jean sure takes forever to say goodbye to him in the mornings so he must do something right

All the neighbors just can't help but be happy for those two kids

They cook them food and leave the casserole dishes on the landing so they can savor each other for as long as possible before he leaves

Next Sunday they show up at church like dutiful little Americans and they’ve got hickies everywhere and his cheeks are a permanent pink, Her knees are red and raw under her church dress

I feel like maybe they get a little adventurous as their time together draws to a close? Maybe they break a dining room chair? She's too mortified to put it out on the curb

*saves it for 50 years*

Some of those wedding china ends up in pieces on the floor. Can't explain to her aunts why they don't have a full set all of a sudden

i really hope he never loses that occasional hair trigger premature ejaculation tendency.

Sometimes it even shocks him, “O-Oh...shoot”

The last day together is a dismal and precious night

The poor man probably laid there on her sweaty boobs after blowing his last load with the saddest *fml* face on as he processed it being, indeed, his last

But HOMECOMING!

and now the war is over they can set up house and make babies

A small breeding kink, after all, these men marched home from war and basically were told "get a job and let's repopulate for all the boys we lost!"

It’s so damn primal when you think about it but under the veneer of the starched and polished 50’s

Croz can't think straight in that tight little hole, let alone think of the ramifications of another baby

“Give it to me, give me another, come on Harry, we've got an empty space in the Christmas card anyway, think of it!! fill me up baby oh godddd Jesus bless your pretty dick-*

it’s the most mundane reasons and he still busts a nut like she’s some filthy vixen and not his sweet and slightly too optimistic wife

frantic love making with a sweater and socks still on, too

Jean is a writher because the longer they are married the longer he lasts and soon she’s come and he just keeps going and she cannot keep quiet then and he’s too big to ignore or calm down between, just thick enough to always be tugging just right and she fully sobs from it sometimes

Often she’s trying to cup herself?!? Fully spasming and shaking and curling in but his strong forearm is over her belly and his lips on her ear

This man is a god at spooning sex

she is so cock feral when she falls pregnant it almost alarms him

The books didn't say anything about this?! He's exhausted and dehydrated and his classes are suffering as a result

Wants to ask Egan if he encountered this phenomenon

His war buddies become a new father support group

"Hang in there pal, only three more months"

They’ll be in the kitchen just chatting before dinner, she wants to tease him. Scoops a little cherry pie filling onto her finger. He licks it and sucks it off -- bites the finger too, in the background dogs are barking and kids are running amuck

As the Crosbys you’re in for a life of very benign but nauseatingly idyllic Christmas parties.

Snow globes, y’all

Sweaters, spiked eggnog and very well thought out gifts

Harry is the sort to carry Jean's purse when they are out shopping and she is trying on clothes. He also has no problem going and buying her sanitary napkins at the drugstore when she's on her period, because it's completely normal and there's nothing for anyone to be embarrassed about. Basically, he is just stupidly in love with her. He's like a puppy who will always follow, but she doesn't take advantage of that fact (credit to:@noneedtoamputate)

He is Harry “Have You Met My Wife?” Crosby back home, too, it’s even worse when he gets tipsy and his confidence grows and good luck shutting him up about how beautiful she is

This is the sorta man whose kids only learn Daddy was a goddamn boss during the war when they’re outta college, a very casual “oh yeah, that was sort of a thing, pass the salt.”

It’s canon this man cut his own son’s hair all his little life, propped him up on a little stool in the back yard and got to trimming -some of the only times the boy ever heard of those devastating missions

Imagine? Same man who used to take you out on the porch into the night air and rock against his sweater when you were a baby and wouldn’t settle is the same man who bombed the hell outta Fortress Europe

He’s the kind of man whose kids are so enamored over how both sides of the coin could settle in the same man, they end up making a documentary about him

Now I also need you to think of this man at bath time in the early 50’s -Shirt sleeves rolled up, top two buttons on his pristine white button up shirt popped with a peak of chest hair showing through, his curls getting steamed by his kids bubble baths

He’s got the prettiest slightly hairy forearms, y’all -according to Jean at least

Gives himself a bubble beard to make his kids laugh, will stay on his knees watching them play for ages, fully participating

His white shirt gets fully transparent with all this splashing and Jean has to really keep her mind on what’s next when she can so easily see his hair and pretty little nipples pebbled in a chill under them. Stops her whining about water on the floor in seconds.

Harry’s already hushing her and mopping it up with a towel anyway

The Crosby kids will have memories of their idiotically in love and enthralled parents who loved being parents, wrapping their baby selves snuggly into towels and setting them on the counter and just cracking up over how cute they looked with their chubby and shiny widdle faces poking out of terry cloth

Jean and Harry spend a lotta time doing that, they just love their kids, ok?

Brushing their cute little Croz curls

Jean can’t say no to a single one with their sad puppy eyes their daddy gave them

Sometimes they sit the kids in front of the fireplace (they obviously needed a house with a fireplace after that honeymoon) and line them up. Talk about them as if they aren't sitting right there. "Honey, look at those gorgeous eyes -- and his smile! Oh my, who do these cuties belong to?"

But it’s not all placid domesticity. Picture this:

Crosby with a mega phone, organizes a neighborhood Easter egg hunt. He's in charge, his aviators on, taking this so seriously

There are maps, he’s planned this for weeks, some of those traits and skills he picked up during the war come back at the oddest times

this gets even more intense if any of the war buddies are there

Harry writes letters to them strategizing, they all come and bring their own kids

It makes the local paper for being one of the biggest Easter egg hunts the state has ever seen

Night falls, children fall asleep and there are still some eggs left. Armed with booze and flashlights, the boys go out to collect the rest

Harry and Jean don't collect any though, they end up in a bush necking somewhere

Bucky gets very adamant about finding them and Brady is just as adamantly begging him not to

But Major Egan cannot be stopped, he rallies his men, hopping on the kids’ bikes and scooters

Everyone heckling each other in the dark suburban neighborhood

"Ya lost your touch Buck, keep up will ya?"

They all end up in a schnapps induced heap in the Crosby's backyard, long limbs all folded up on too small equipment

Jean and Harry leisurely stroll back up the street under lamp glow to their house where everyone is feral and collapsed and calling loudly for their hosts

Sharing soft little smiles and picking twigs out of each others hair

They tuck these idiot men in on the couches and floor, blankets, sleeping bags and dogs

Hear me out: Jean is the only human able to talk a belligerent Bucky out of his thirtieth beer

She has that sweet way about her that makes every person wanna be a better man for her

When he finally gives in and throws his arm over her little shoulders and swears she’s a good woman, Harry is there with the pan and the aspirin and the blanket

She makes them all the most perfect hangover breakfast the next morning, gingham checked apron stretched over swollen belly

Harry nuzzles her belly when she stops at his plate to dish up the eggs

Everyone wants to gag over how perfectly content these two are but that would be a waste of the best breakfast in the USA

And if Jean happens to make the best baked goods on the block - Croz is making sure everyone knows just who’s muffins those are on the bake sale table. Or if she wants to pursue a career or education? Harry is her biggest cheerleader, doing anything and everything to support her and being sure that everyone knows how incredible she is at what she does. (Credit @blurredcolour)

They may be the sweater wearing, block party and Sunday school couple but don’t think anybody gets away with being snide to Mrs. Jean Crosby -there will be comeuppance, even if it’s just an exquisitely literate verbal evisceration.

There's even more often a roaming band of local kids who kick the shins of everyone who's mean to Mrs. Crosby, because she gives them sweets and feeds them when they're hungry and cleans up their scrapes when play gets too rough and -if Mr. Crosby hands out a comic or two to the boys that "accidentally" tripped some bloke who was harassing his wife, well. All is fair in love and war. (Credit to @promptedwordsmith)

When in the summer of 49 the Crosbies get a swimming pool dug? It might as well be considered public property.

not just the kids who are attached to the crosbies, though. your home is a constant revolving door of visitors - including a bunch of ex-servicemen. if it's not bucky lounging in the pool, or rosie painting the fence in his shirtsleeves because he wanted to be helpful, then douglass is smoking a cigarette in the yard while trying to make you laugh. ev is asking harry to show him how to read this goddamn map bc they're supposed to be taking a trip to the grand canyon in a month, and bubbles is over for dinner every other night. even brady sometimes shows his face, if only to carp at harry for getting them lost over france that one time while working the barbecue because you asked him to. when you and harry bought the house with an extra room you weren't sure you would ever use, you didn't expect it to be occupied as often as a popular hotel. if anyone ever had any bad intentions toward the crosbies, they're definitely rethinking it. those that don't...well. being in the air corps teaches one all sorts of creative ways of getting back at people. (Credit to @fidelias)

Imagine all the different skills the Crosby kids (_and their neighbor friends who never seem to leave_) learn from these guys?

“Oh yeah, Bucky Egan taught me how to swim while wearing his aviators…”

In other words:

Harry Crosby went home and built himself a little Norman Rockwell Camelot and then opened the doors of the kingdom to his buddies and -that’s as it should be.

And that’s not even mentioning how the Air Force and the CIA walked up to his front porch and interrupted a backyard ballgame to ask him for his help

It sucks to be super smart and needed when all ya wanna do is teach literature, go camping and help keep the church life going

But still

Jean sure looked good in Pakistan, the kids enjoyed a new culture and Harry likes to say he may have done some good

[lycandrophile]

I know that saying T turning twinks into otters and bears is supposed to be positivity, but it feels excluding of those of us that didn't get those effects from T. Trans men can look all kinds of ways and I keep seeing posts that almost belittle the idea of trans men remaining like that after T, but some of us do. Lift up the ones who do turn into otters and bears and those that don't. It's already a point of dysphoria for a lot of people

it is not humanly possible for me to include every single possible transmasc experience in one post, nor is it my responsibility to try to. positivity for one experience does not equal negativity toward other experiences. if you want a positivity post for people who don’t get those effects from t, by all means make one and i’ll fully support you in that, but don’t treat other kinds of positivity as wrong just because they’re not for you.

i am a trans man who went from a twink to an otter on t, and i put that line in because that’s an aspect of my transition that i’m incredibly proud of. i’m allowed to do that, and i’m not required to fulfill some sort of quota of positivity for other people to make that okay. me showing pride in my body and bodies like mine isn’t belittling other kinds of bodies, and i would challenge you to really ask yourself why you interpreted positivity for other people as automatically negative toward you. sometimes some things just aren’t for you and that’s okay. i’m sure there are other parts of that post that did apply to you, as well as plenty of other positivity posts that do. and if not? make some! send them to me, i’d love to reblog them! every positivity post you see is just a trans person making the posts they want to see more of, and you can do the same.

not to mention, hair growth and weight gain on t are incredibly stigmatized. people constantly talk about how bad they think all the hair looks or how gross they think it is when we don’t shave, and gaining weight is something that’s pretty much always framed as a negative side effect instead of a desirable and euphoric change. people literally try to convince us not to go on t by saying “you’re not going to stay an androgynous twink, you’re going to be hairy and all your fat will move to your stomach and you’ll just look like your dad.” that’s a horror story to a lot of people; that’s the thing that they think will disgust us enough to decide we don’t want to go on t.

so if you see a lot of posts hyping up trans otters and bears, it’s not us saying other kinds of bodies aren’t as good, it’s just us pushing back against those narratives and saying “no, our bodies are good too, actually, and i’m glad t made me look this way.” that’s not to say there isn’t also a lot of negativity toward trans men who are smaller and less hairy; no matter how we look, people will find a reason to hate our bodies because they hate us. but you really can’t put the blame on trans otters and bears who just want to send a message that our bodies aren’t bad.

if seeing positivity for trans bodies that aren’t like yours makes you dysphoric, please understand that that’s a personal thing you need to learn how to deal with and not the fault of the people who just want to feel good about their bodies as much as you do. it’s okay to want positivity for your kind of trans body and i promise you those posts are out there, but you can’t expect every single one to cater to your specific experiences.

[deerboybreeder]

UPDATED PINNED LETS GOOOO!

[PraiseMe Link!] [Tellonym Link!] (Send me threats and scary things!)

Hi, I'm Deer but you can call me whatever you want idc! Im a trans man and use he/it pronouns (or any pronouns in kink), I'm in my late 20's, and my blog is primarily focused on breeding and pregnancy! However lots of my other kinks will be present here, such as cnc, kidnapping, intox, monsterfucking, hucow and gender play- this includes both force detrans and forcemasc!

Inbox and DMs are open, but keep in mind:

-i am fat! That's just a fact, don't go into this assuming I'm skinny

-I've been on testosterone for several months, and I am starting to be read as a man in my day to day life!

-I AM TAKEN and won't get in a relationship with you. I do have permission for roleplay, so assume unless stated otherwise that I'm playing a role here. I DO NOT SEND PICS BECAUSE OF THIS!!! they own my body ❤️

You Can: talk to me about impregnation, forced impregnation, breeding, pregnancy in general, reduce me to my womb and tits (PLEASE), send fantasies about breeding boys girls and anyone else, hunting deerboys (for breeding or otherwise), monsterfucking, anything hucow related, light blackmail, and forced marriage! I talk about it less here, but I'm also into having parts of me hacked off for meat- feel free to bring that up if you want but I don't expect much bc it's niche. I'm also a traumagenic system of many, so feel free to ask about that/take advantage of it!

Misgendering is good (but I really prefer degendering + dehumanization), forced feminization and forced detransition especially from pregnancy, forcemasc and trans superiority (ESP transfem superiority ❤️). See below the cut for specific boundaries about that!

I also genuinely love being sent: rape threats, stalking threats, degrading messages, porn, insults, messages that imply I'm not a real man (though don't extend this to all trans ppl that's a turn off), messages that call me stupid, and graphic violent threats. If it's not on my limits list, it's probably ok to send!

You can't: ASK FOR PICS, or talk to me about scat/piss, fauxcest/incest, raceplay, beast (not monsterfucker but like real animals). Don't imply I'd cheat on my partners either. Outside of kink warning that if I ever feel like someone actually has my personal information/location, I will delete the blog immediately. So if you want to keep playing with me, don't.

DMS ONLY: Due to privacy and the way Tumblr nukes blogs, I'll only engage with the following in DMs- hunger play, asking about my trauma, and Im CONSIDERING allowing blackmail play if we have a rapport built. I also will do ageplay in DMs but I identify as a younger teen in that space and not a little-little, and won't use family-related terms.

Required reading over! Read all of the above or I'll stomp you to death with my hooves!

Genuinely for blackmail play I gotta trust you. Assume everything here I mention irl is roleplay unless stated otherwise! I am genuinely pumping to induce lactation though, that's real, and so is me dressing more feminine on and off- that's not for detrans reasons but because I'm GNC. The god pregnancy is ALSO real, but some aspects are embellished to make it fit on the kink blog. Feel free to ask about that!

Detrans specific boundaries!

The biggest thing is don't imply all other trans people are not actually their gender. I'm okay with classing "fakeboys" as a group and being considered part of that group, but that's exclusively people who also have a detrans kink. I'm also more likely to engage with this kink with other trans people, and in a much harder context than I would with a cis person.

I'm okay with being called almost any term except for woman- even in the context of kink, I can't stand being called a woman. A womb, a girl, wife, even using she/her on me is fine, just not woman. In my kink narrative, women have a level of personhood that I can't ever have! I also am fine with a specific kind of "misogyny lite" play that's exclusive for fakeboys- fakeboys and ftm girls are subject to the typical "you exist to make babies and be in the kitchen and serve", whereas real trans men, cis men, nonbinary people, and women (both cis and trans) are granted full autonomy and agency.

I'm okay with being told I'm "lying" about being a boy/man, and being made to "go back" to being a girl/cunt/womb/whore/whatever, but what's BEST is breaking me. Sure, I was always a boy, if a fake one, but you decide to break me into a good girl for you and ruin me instead. That's better than anything else! It's also totally okay to do "light" misgendering/force fem to me- encouraging me to dress more femininely due to me being GNC and things like that, only to tell me later it's because you want me feminized.

[summercreolefanfictioner]

the scent wafts in, her name making him beg on his knees chap 1.1

pairing: dabi / todoroki touya x fem!oc / reader (MODERN AU)

summary: He mentions her name after 6 months in therapy, absentmindedly narrating vivid memories of her. She was the only good thing during his darkest times.

(In which Touya returns home after rebelling against his family for 7 years. And no, it wasn't about forgiveness. He wanted to fix himself because of a certain someone.)

themes: nsfw, domestic abuse, violence, alcoholism, cigarette smoking, toxic relationships, mental health, co-dependency and other related themes (YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED)

notes: for this one, pls keep in mind that touya didn't have much scars on his face; mostly are on his body to accomodate the plot; charas might be ooc since this is modern au

Todoroki Touya has returned; it wasn't a drill.

The eldest of the Todoroki family has returned, and it was all over the news like wildfire. Pictures of him were around tabloids and newspapers, imprinted on TV screens along with family pictures of his 13-year-old self as news anchors and writers all over Japan broadcasted about the Endeavor Corp. finally having its original heir back to where he belonged. Two years ago, Todoroki Shouto announced he wouldn't be the one to replace his father, Todoroki Enji as the owner and CEO of their family business. However, Shouto focused on one part of the Endeavor Corp., particularly their sports and training business, as he wanted to become a personal trainer someday.

Touya was aware of what was happening on the business side of his family despite his rebellion seven years ago. After all, he saw them all over the news, watched his father on TV, and observed how everything was faring for them. So when he returned to the main house, he was a bit surprised at a few details he had missed. For one, his mother, Todoroki Rei, had already been discharged from the mental ward, faring well and welcoming him back with a big, warm hug and fat tears rolling down her cheeks. It also seemed that things were a lot better between his parents, but some of them still held reluctance to forgive their father.

Particularly him and Natsuo.

Enji was aware of their hatred towards him, hence he would talk to them politically, as Enji the CEO of the Endeavor Corp., not as their own father. Touya believed it was only fair. He would've resorted to violence if that wasn't the case. Speaking of which, that was another reason, he returned.

"I have to settle things between this family and me once and for all," he informed them on the first day of his return. "I need to talk to Father."

He knew what Enji would say to him. His father will apologize and be remorseful over what happened. He will also mention about him being his successor in the future, even though he was having none of it.

"I don't need that title anymore," Touya coldly argued, resisting the urge to punch him in the face as he knew he wouldn't defend himself after everything he had done to them since they were kids. "Not from you, specifically."

Enji understood. Touya meant, "I will have that title by my own hands, not because you passed it to me cheap because Shouto didn't want it anymore." Afterwards, his father explained everything he was required to do before his first day in the company. He also mentioned something along the lines of, "You need to undergo rehab and therapy for a while. I knew what you have been up to these past seven years with your cigarette addiction and alcoholism."

Before, Touya would violently react, would be against his decision and say, "You're just scared because I might surpass you." Now, he just nodded at his direction much to Enji's surprise.

"Why are you so shocked? You think I will half-ass my return to this family?" Touya questioned, slightly mocking him.

"I know you wouldn't," Enji commented.

And before Touya left his office, he added: "Just so you know, I am not doing this for the family."

Enji raised a questioning brow.

"I'm doing this because of a certain someone."

------

The first few months of Touya's rehab and therapy were tough as shit, gnawing at him like sharp nails and digging his soul like he was trapped in darkness. He felt overwhelmed by everything, talking about his feelings all day, breaking out of his shell, and slightly wanting to just break things and be alone. Touya craved darkness at some point, the urge to be violent creeping on his shoulder like the devil even though a rational part of him warned him that it would not be the best choice. He wanted to destroy himself at this point, missing the familiar pain his piercings left on his ears and nose. He was breathing hard to calm himself, persuading his brain to shut its damn trap.

It's getting annoying, fucking shit. Everything's been chaotic.

The first few days were blank, spending it staring at mindless paintings and counting how many times the water from the faucet dropped in the sink. It was eerie yet relaxing, the silence enveloping him like a plague until it bit back to tell him how much madness he needed to unleash but couldn't. He secretly had his mp3 player in his pocket, and he would watch the door and the shadow underneath, checking if someone would come in. To this day, he still couldn't take it out.

He missed that damn voice, but he needed to be patient. He shouldn't miss her. He shouldn't think about her. This is nothing, he convinced himself. This is nothing compared to all the abuse I've endured before. The angry stare. The hateful remarks. The violent beatings. The disapproval underlying Enji's tone. His rough hand smacking him in the face. The burning scars left on his skin from the heating iron. The pitiful stares. The blood he spat from his mouth.

Everything.

EVERYTHING.

I WANNA DIE.

Out of panic, he quickly reached for the mp3 player from his pocket, a secret he kept from the treatment center. He wasn't supposed to have any gadgets with him, but he knew he had to. He couldn't drink alcohol. He couldn't smoke a stick to curb this annoying feeling. He cannot destroy shit. But he had to hear that soothing voice. He had to endure.

He put in the earbuds and played the audio, his breathing coming down in sighs as he felt himself relaxing.

"Touya..."

"Yes, call me that," he said to no one, tears streaming down as he smiled in satisfaction.

"Touya..."

"Touya..."

"Are you awake?"

"I made you breakfast."

"Touya..."

"Do you want me to take an off day from work?"

"Yes," he answered, hugging the pillow beside him and imagining it was her. "Just stay. Stay with me."

"Touya..."

"I love you..."

"Touya..."

I love you too.

------

Touya has learned something, and that therapy was another form of circle from hell, or that was just him. He heard people preach about therapy all the time, that undergoing therapy healed them, made them see the light at the end of the tunnel, and had them humbled in a way they could never explain. Touya wished it was the same for him, but nah. It wasn't. Therapy was another circle from hell. It made him too vulnerable, too open he could feel the burnt scars on his skin itching too much the more the therapist asked him about himself.

He also thought his therapist couldn't care less about his minimal responses, the first few days boring him as the man asked about his name, how old he was, what he did for a living after he ran away, what helped him cope—you know, the basic questions every therapist could ask for.

"Todoroki Touya. 26. I did odd jobs. Alcohol. Cigarettes. Fighting."

The therapist looked displeased, he noted. He probably wanted more answers than that.

"Have you been in therapy before?"

"No."

"What do you expect from this session?"

"I don't know."

"Why are you seeking therapy?"

If he was being honest, Touya's answer would be: "I don't know? Just to get this shit done, I guess?" Not like he would be rude now. After all, he returned as Todoroki Touya after seven years of rebelling. He should keep his damn trap if he wanted them all back.

Even her.

"Do you want to become a better person?"

"Yes."

next chap

masterlist

[141shousewife]

NSFW Price x Fat Wife Drabble >:)

Minors DNI I will EAT u like a nerds gummy cluster

Length: 1.2k Words

CW: NSFW, ANTI DADDY KINK PRICE!! Price x Fat reader, Implied Black reader, Price is married to reader, Female Reader, condescension, mocking, fingering, PiV, dirty talk,

THIS IS ONLY MY OPINION! DON'T EAT ME PLEASE

Also if u have a problem with the reader being fat n black.... IDK what to tell u gworl.

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_______________________________________________

I have one main qualm with Price x reader NSFW content. I see one reoccurring theme/headcannon:

price = daddy dirty talk

And I hate to say it but everyone else is wrong about it and I am the one who to is correct.

Price, when called daddy, looks around for a child. Being a middle aged white man with a grown in beard- accidents do happen with chubby cheeked tots who grab onto his unsuspecting leg in grocery stores and assume that he is their father.

John has been called "Daddy" many times in his life, and since he is a man who aims to please, it's been more than once that he has let it slide during one night stands.

But with you?

His girl??

His WIFE????

Price does not like to be called daddy. His spine shivers and his body rejects the implication that your attraction to him is rooted in a negative experience with your own father.

He prefers to be called other things

"Baby" especially when you call him for dinner, "Honey" is nice when you're calling for him in front of others to show your love from him, "Sweetheart" specifically when you're angry with him- because he loves the way that you maintain warmth, and lastly "John"

That one is Johns favorite because he hears it the most between breathy moans. His name is barely audible when it slides out of your mouth as his hands work you over and make you needy and pliable.

But daddy is not one that he would choose.

But does this mean that John is sterile and boring in the bedroom ?

Not even close.

John puts his ALL into pleasing you.

He loves to catch you right as you're getting into bed for the night. He always starts with watching from the bed as you stand in the bathroom finishing your bedtime routine. Where John's head lays he can see your back as you rub the last of your sweet smelling lotion onto your wide shoulders and soft arms and tie the bow at the front of your bonnet. When finished- you turn around and wow.

Wow.

Wow.

John is raking his eyes over your round and soft body, covered in a flowy pink night dress and he could just cry over how beautiful you are. Your body sits beautifully beneath the dress, your nipples poking through and visible from the coolness in the room, your arms shifting into being crossed over your chest-

"-Baby, did you hear me?" Your sweet voice beckons him back to reality as your brown eyes graze over him for any recognition of being lucid.

"I'm so sorry honey, I was thinking. What did you say?" John immediately feels guilty for missing what you said and instead oggling you like a dog would do a slab of meat.

"I said what are you looking at me like that for?"

John looks at you. Caught. Red handed. (more like red tip right now but that neither here nor there")

The smile that spreads over your face immediately says: 'i know what you want- and im prepared to give it to you.'

He looks at you and lowers his tone into a rasp. It hits you in a way that makes you feel like you can't deny him his requests.

"Come -ere."

Your body seems to walk toward the large plush bed without your permission.

You look at him doe eyed "what?" You can't tell why you're also whispering but it feels right.

He, in one move, tosses the comforter off of his lower half and sits up to grab your wide hips.

"You're acting like you caught me with my hand in the cookie jar, but you're just as wound up as me. Aren't ya?"

You stare at him breathlessly not realizing that the previous question was not rhetorical

John reaches him hand up and under your night gown and rubs your slit through your panties.

"I said: Aren't ya?"

You feel dizzy and unbalanced from the sensation and grip onto his shoulder to steady yourself.

"I am- I want you to- hah -touch me. Please"

You normally aren't this sensitive but the way that he is talking to you is making you weak.

"Look at me. Where do you want me to touch you. Cmon use your words?"

You try to just moan in response as he slows his pace.

"God- you're difficult. Is this it?"

John quickly inserts his fingers and begins pumping them as you hold onto his shoulders and writhe from the contact.

He only continues to rub the spongy spot inside of you and speak to you in a cooing, mocking tone- "What? That feel good? Are you gonna keep fucking yourself on my fingers until that cum drips down my wrist?"

You start to feel the heat and coiling in your stomach about to snap.

"Yes, John, please!"

Right as your vision is about to white out in pleasure, you tell John pulling his fingers out.

Whining in frustration you push out "John I was so close why would yo-"

The rest of you sentence is cut off as John stands up and moves behind you and roughly bends you over, making the excess fat on your body jiggle with the impact of you hitting the bed and pulling off your panties.

Your complaints are quickly silenced as John grabs for a pillow to put beneath your soft tummy. You moan clench around nothing as he lewdly leans down and spits on your entrance to make himself fit well.

"Your pussy is such a hungry little thing- you just needed some proper dick to shut you up huh?"

Your eyes begin to roll back into your head as you feel the rough stretch of John repeatedly pushing his dick inside to the hilt, exiting, and pushing inside again.

You can barely breathe- let alone form thoughts when he fucks you like this.

His raspy moans and quiet curses only push you closer to you orgasm.

He quickens his pace and you know you are done for- you aren't going to be able to hold it.

"John, pleasepleaseplease. I'm gonna- I'm- "

Completely invested in making you crazy- John slides his hand around your wide hip and plays with your clit and begins to talk into your ear in a condescending tone.

"You're gonna what huh? What are you gonna do? Are you gonna cum all over this dick baby?"

You can't even respond because that statement makes your vision completely go away as you babble incoherently and make a mess down John's thick, hairy thighs.

You don't notice during your orgasm but as you squeeze down into Price you begin to fuck back into him, roughly slamming your round ass onto him, making John completely incapable of holding out.

John fills you with a keening low moan as you finally begin to slow down

"Babyyy- fuck. -hah -just like thatttt."

John grabs onto the fat of your hip and buries himself inside and gives you the last of his orgasm.

He pulls out, cleans you off, lets you use the bathroom, and gets into bed and wraps his arms around your soft waist.

As you both quietly breathe slower and slower John finally speaks with an eyeroll-

"You definitely knew what you were pulling with that outfit. You know I'm a mumu man.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for asking my friends to be more considerate of me when talking about their eating disorders?

🩱👠

Ok, so for some context, we're all in college, and the three of us are very close. The other two, "Andrew" and "Alexis" are dating. I want to be clear, I am not trying to minimise their struggles with disordered eating. Andrew is trans and deals with a lot of dysmorphia, and Alexis has a lot of health issues and has fluctuating hormones and appetites that affect her body a lot. I've supported them both through these things, and I know it's been really really hard on them.

I am also trans, and I have dealt with anorexia on and off since I was in middle school (along with a lot of other health issues). Andrew and Alexis are both relatively thin. For reference, they both wear a lot of crop tops and such, with little to no visible body fat. I'm not at all saying that their thinness invalidates their problems with food, but this is to contrast with me. I have always been fat, and they know my mother was awful about it to me, and that drove me into eating disorders. I'm slowly getting more comfortable with my body, but I'm very open with them that I still have issues with it and I have very frequent "bad body days".

Ok, so all of that background. We all have our own issues, and we do our best to support each other through them. But there's this one habit they have that really sucks for me. We'll be talking, and body image will come up, and one of them will say something like "I hate this part here, I feel so insecure about it." And it's always a spot where they have like, a little bit of fat. And it's always a spot on me where I have 2-3 times that amount.

And honestly that really hurts. Like I know that they're dealing with real insecurities and body image issues, but I feel like they're saying "I hate my body for being like this" when my body is so much more that.

So maybe I am the asshole for taking their own inner issues personally against me, and maybe it would be a dick move to add to their issues by telling them that it hurts my feelings.

But on the other hand, I feel like there must be other ways that we can share our problems without them talking to their fat friend about how much they hate the little bit of fat they do have, you know?

So, WIBTA for asking them to lay off the specific things they're struggling with in body image?

[hyperfixingfr]

I think it's really stupid to be mad when people criticize the way you draw/your lack of drawing fat people. You're allowed to be sad, because to be fair, I would be with any criticism, too. But otherwise, there's a great deal of people in this fandom who slim down every single fat person they touch, intentionally or not. If we can't tell they're supposed to be fat or you're underestimating their fat (ex making a character like HOAGIE have the amount of body fat that WALLY has) we have every right to be upset. And no, no one with a brain is going to take the "just my headcanons" excuse. First off, a headcanon is not, "completely going against established stuff". I have no problem with people changing canon when the canon material is problematic but that one is not it and you know it. Second off, you know damn well you don't have to change it. There is no logical reason to desire changing the body of ANY of the 3 fat characters that people talk about. Especially because for Hoagie, we can clearly tell by looking at his family that he will NEVER have a slimmer body type, even just chubby, unless he were severely unhealthy. The only time I endorse making a fat character slimmer like that is in cases like @kommandonuovidiavoli , who has a great plot involving Tommy and his battle with health issues causing him to become skinnier and "more appealing", despite the fact that his fat was a sign of health. It's the same reason that we don't change the ability of characters who already have canon disabilities, or change the sexuality of characters who already have a canonly established sexuality (yes, this only applies to characters who outright say "I am _" or creators who specifically state they are something). If you cannot tell the difference between fat bodies and skinny bodies in your style without having to really look, do something about it. It can really hurt for fat people, to see their body type butchered and misrepresented constantly. It's why I bring it up so much. I've gotten sent plenty of hate mail for this, and at some point, an entire discord server of grown adults was shit talking me for asserting that it's wrong to do that. But I stand by the fact that you lose NOTHING by keeping this specific aspect as is. There are millions upon millions of headcanons that exist out there for you to explore and I have no problem with them. The fact that I openly express and explain why removing fat from a character is bad, and then get called "controlling" for it, should say plenty about you and nothing about me. There is no gain for removing representation. Please pick something else. No one's gonna be "whining" if you just pick normal headcanons to have instead of choosing specifically the ones that are just removing a character's canon and well established minority group, whatever it may be. If it's REALLY that hard, there's charts to figure out what's minority and what's majority. For anyone who may be slimming people down unintentionally, well... Practice. Please. I really can't emphasize how much some need it.