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st-dionysus · 1 month

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(The Poem is named) Emetophobia CW

It’s 2024 and I’m in a 20 year old drag bar, watching the very first trans-masculine performer to compete on their stage, he gets second place even though he deserved first.

I show up to the men’s bathhouse on trans night to get free entry and get turned away at the door, and told it’s for transgirls only, bitch you could have put it on the flyer that transmen need not apply.

I’m doing a line of ketamine off the table, calling it stealing transfem valor.

I get banned from the camsite for listing myself as transgender when I don’t have a dick, I complain online and get told that the trans-masculine body is to grotesque to be fetishized and I should be grateful.

I wear a packer and hitch up a skirt, walk the street, get $20, calling it stealing transfem valor.

Cissie puts a TW #body-mutilation tag under my thirst trap. Tranny puts a TW #dysphoria tag under my thirst trap.

T-girl with a callout post pedojackets me, Enby with TME in bio pedojackets me, T-boy with a self-deprecating joke about men in his bio pedojackets me.

I do another line of ketamine off the table, calling it stealing transfem valor.

I am at the woman’s clinic, I am at the woman’s clinic, I am at the woman’s clinic wearing a mask – not cause I’m compromised (I am), just to hide my beard – avoiding making everyone uncomfortable.

I am getting re-diagnosed with BPD, which just means I have bitch disorder and no one trusts me.

I take my pills and throw them up. I drink my liquor before the beer and throw them up.

I am just 14 when the picture and videos go up. Remind me that I have it easy, they were only pictures and videos.

I am just 17 when the recording of my proof stops before it happens, my phone memory is full, I’m called a liar and now I can’t see buttered crackers, thanksgiving, or sriracha sauce without wanting to kill myself.

No one gets me therapy, but they still want to convert me, she puts her hands down my pants, at least I’m 19, to remind me I’m a woman – tell me how they love trans men again.

I do a third line of ketamine off the table, realize it doesn’t effect me, calling it stealing transfem valor.

I call myself a dog, I start biting my lovers and I have to hold back from ripping out a chunk of flesh, I don’t think I’d throw it up.

I am reading the statistics, 40% of BPD patients try and kill themselves. 1 in 2 transgender men try and kill themselves. I’m one of them. I’m 12 and I swallowed all the pills. I’m 14 and the gun is empty. I’m 17 and I put the box-opener against my throat. Therapist calls me a liar, there is no scar, and my words don’t count for anything.

I’m using he/him pronouns for Stormé DeLarverie, like the stonewall veteran association said to, and telling you he started the riot, calling it stealing transfem valor from a woman who told you she didn’t fucking do it.

I’m shoving my fingers down my throat in a fit of mania, convinced I can vomit up my uterus. She tells me I should be grateful, she’d do anything to be able to get pregnant.

My brother in the struggle gets bottom surgery without top, calling it stealing transfem valor to feel comfortable in his body.

It’s 2024 and I’m at trans pride, the announcers tells everyone to give a round of applause for trans woman, a round of applause for gender-queers, a round of applause for transfems, a round of applause for the enbies, a round of applause for trans-masculine people. You forgot someone. Did you know a trans man started the first ever transgender pride parade?

A book on queer history talks about gay men and lesbians and trans women and the women who dressed as men for better job opportunities. I’m reminded that my invisibility is a privilege, if you aren’t seen you don’t get bashed.

I’m 13 and they throw me in the girls bathroom, pin me down, beat me, and in black sharpie write “dyke”, write “tranny”, write “lesbo”, and pull my hair out the cap I shoved it in.

I’m 19 with D cups that a binder can’t hide and a beard I refuse to shave less I break the mirror and kill myself with the shards of glass I would swallow.

Man at the bus stop calls me tranny and tells me I’ll never be a woman. I’d laugh if he didn’t have his hand on my throat. Calling it stealing transfem valor.

I’m 21 and have to pull a taser on him, cause from the back, even with short hair and top surgery, I look rape-able.

I’m 23 and in the gay district when they chase me down the street, calling me faggot.

Make another forcemasc post, calling it stealing transfem valor.

Read an article about a trans man prostitute that kills himself and ends up another female statistic.

Read an article about a trans man shooter, they blame the HRT he didn’t have access too.

Going to read a callout about me, five pages on Google Docs, does this post make it on the list?

Do a final line of ketamine, write the final line of a poem that makes me want to die, calling it stealing transfem valor.

I puke and miss the toilet.

#saint speaks #transandrophobia #my writing #my poetry #ftm art #ftm poetry #emeto #sa tw #trans men #ftm #transmasc #transgender

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melodic-haze · 3 months

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Okay, hear me out. Having the power over the Tsaritsa herself

If we get Arle our levels should surely surpass and manage to get the ice woman herself under our thumb.. RAHSHSHHAHD the thought alone makes me so turned on Imaginee???

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Tsaritsa x dom!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Degredation 🤷‍♀️✌️ one day I will use this part for something genuinely worrying like someone dying idk but today is NOT that day

☆ — NOTES: When I tell you I stared before screaming in sheer glee 😭😭😭 LIKE THANK YOU FOR INDULGING ME AND MY POWER FANTASIES HALLELUJAH

God I love having powerful women at my feet ty YESSIR I CAN IMAGINE IT AND I'M GOING INSANE❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️

This woman was once a goddess so full of love, only for her heart to harden once she ran out of love to give :(((( it's up to you to give her that love again 🥰

In all seriousness though it is such a PRIVILEGE to be let past the many walls she has made for herself, let alone being able to hold her heart in your hands. Please hold it gently :( I know you lot wanna get on with it already but the path towards loving and domming this archon is! Very difficult! But in the end it's so worth it :333 bc she will show you pure, utter love and devotion—it'll have everyone, especially the Harbingers, jealous of such a connection, though whether they're jealous of you for being in the arms of their Tsaritsa or they're jealous of their GOD being the receiver of your love is anyone's guess

Ofc there's always the option where you date the Harbingers too but like that isn't the focus here shhhhh 🤫🤫🤫🤫

Once you have gained her full trust, now all you need is to reassure her that it's okay to put down her crown whenever it's just the two of you. It'll certainly take a while again, but when she finally has the courage to let go and essentially give you the reigns, well...

It started off with the same sort of song-and-dance, with the two of you kissing each other deeply as your hands roamed around each other's bodies.. yet usually none of your actions have ever gone beyond simply feeling each other up and building up that excitement before simply letting it down lightly and settling for something less.. carnal.

This time, however, it's as if some hidden switch had been found—you know not of what spurred your beloved archon to get more starved for touch than usual, with her hands wandering within the confines of your clothing and brushing onto bare skin, but you weren't complaining in the least.. though you couldn't help but feel confused.

It is only when she backs you up and pushes you down onto the bed before straddling your lap with a brand new look in her eyes, so utterly clouded with need, that you realise what she wants.

"Are you sure? You know I don't mind waiting for as long as you need."

"And how long will you last in this world before it takes you from me too?" The Tsaritsa shakes her head with a sad smile as she focuses on you despite the lustful daze she's in, "No, I am ready to be taken by you, in both body and soul."

You couldn't help but soften at your lover's confession, warmth filling you despite the cold radiating off her skin—something of a side effect from being the Cryo Archon, you had guessed—and just a touch of melancholy brushing against your heart as she speaks of her fear for the loss of you.

It's not as if you were going to simply discard such a proclamation, especially when it comes from the Goddess of Love herself, so you gently brush a hand on her cheek before moving down to squeeze her bicep in reassurance, "If that is what my Archon wants, then--"

"No."

"No?"

"Within the confines of this room, I do not want to be above your stature." She wraps her hands around your neck, causing you to shiver pleasantly at the icy contact, "I wish to be equals.. and..."

"And..?"

Her voice was quieter this time, a lot more bashful as she looks away with a rosy tint on her cheeks, "Perhaps even.. below you.. with a loss of my power."

"..You're sure?"

"Yes, I..." She lets out a light exhale before looking at you with true sincerity in her eyes, "I trust you with full control over me."

You try to find the words that seem appropriate to answer with, and yet you find none. So you kiss her tenderly at first.. before deepening the kiss, taking charge as you pull her towards you.

When she lets out a low moan of satisfaction, you couldn't help but smile as you proceeded beyond the line that the two of you were initially hesitant to cross.

Anyways after that, you have the feared Tsaritsa at the palm of your hand, ready and eager to do what you'd want to do ☺️☺️☺️☺️

Imagine being gentle with her at first, showing her soooo much love in your actions as you kiss and touch and worship her body. Her breaths are heavy and deep, perhaps even hot if it weren't for the fact that they came out as cold fogs. In fact, she's cautious at first due to her being very cold, her body temperature SO unlike yours but you tell her that it's okay!!! It'll feel even better anyway 🫶 why?

Temperature play ☺️☺️☺️ she's naturally really cold, so if you put your finger in her sopping cunt, your warmth is doing basically like half the work for you. Start adding friction into the equation, moving your digits inside her as you pepper hot kisses on pale skin and let your tongue swirl on her breasts, and she'll be squirming in basically no time due to how hot your touch feels compared to hers 🫶🫶🫶🫶

THEN you get rougher with her; adding more force into your touch and you start getting more relentless by the second and preventing her from actually taking a moment. The moment you say something degrading towards her by pure accident, you swear it just slipped out, at first you think you've made a GRAVE mistake like yk she said that you can do whatever but YOU DON'T THINK SHE MEANT??? THAT!!!!!!! But when a whine escapes her lips as her eyes nearly roll to the back of her head, her wet folds squeezing your fingers all the while, you realise she LIKES that. And that's like. Holy shit she trusts you THAT much that she's LETTING you essentially ruin her and her godly image

The moment you mutter both words of praise AND degredation is the moment she's gonna be SOOOO GONEEEEEEE❗️❗️❗️

"You're sucking me in," you mused out loud with a light smirk. "Who knew the Cryo Archon turned out to be such a pretty whore... For someone like me, no less."

She bucks her hips up with a raspy moan at your words, the sound absolutely sinful to your ears, despite the fact that at the state she was in, there was no way she understood most of what you said. Her skin flushed and her lips swollen because of you, the once ever-so-frigid archon was reduced to a pathetic mess.

Of course such a scene was an ego boost for you, not to mention a turn on.

Your lips traced a line all the way down, from her lips.. to her chest.. to her abdomen.. until it brushes her sensitive clit, your breath hot against cold skin. You feel her fingers tangle themselves in your hair, gripping tightly in anticipation and need for you to do whatever it is you wanted to do.

"My beautiful girl is so eager for me, aren't you?" You cooed as your free hand airily grazed the outside of her thigh before gripping onto it, "Don't worry your pretty little head, hm? I'll give you sooo much love, you won't even know what to do with it all."

All it took was one lick with your tongue, the muscle so unbearably hot to her touch, for the Tsaritsa to realise that you were going to make good on that promise of yours.

SHE'LL TAKE EVERYTHING WITHOUT A WORD OF COMPLAINT UGGHGB in fact she'll even DELIGHT in the change of roles, in the way that you're happily using and toying with her :3333

Overstimming her would be SO MUCH FUN because of the temperature build-up. Not to mention if you say that you love her??? Oh FUCK her reaction is delightful—she'll start fucking CRYING, both at the overstim and the fact that you truly love her and you were willing to show it in every way you can :((((( and suddenly she's seeing STARS behind her eyelids as she cums herself silly :3

From that and the later sessions you have, it's very clear who TRULY holds the reigns between you 🫶🫶🫶🫶 and with the Tsaritsa, who needs and DESERVES a break from being looked down upon as some......some antagonist in Teyvat's story, well. She wouldn't have it any other way 🥰

Oh. One more thing before this is done!!! She's an EXPERT at aftercare hello she's not the (former) Goddess of Love for nothing, just saying..........just give her a few mins to recover first. Or maybe an hour. Just give her a moment 😭😭😭 OR ALTERNATIVELY PAMPER HER AFTERWARDS❗️❗️❗️❗️ Take care of her, you'll see her cry again, something she'd usually refuse to do around everyone else, and you just gotta hug her and tell her you're here and it's okay and that you love her :((((

#hazy demos!#hazy explicits!#tsaritsa x reader #tsaritsa smut #sub tsaritsa #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact smut #sub genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin smut #sub genshin #genshin women x reader #genshin women imagines #genshin women smut #sub genshin women

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disabledbutchblues · 1 year

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able-bodied neurotypical people want quiet disability. invisible disability. they love it when we don’t complain and don’t shove our needs in their face. they love it when we stay home and die quietly instead of trying to live (but they don’t like it when we stay home and need caregivers).

[paragraph about self then next ones on more general and important things] i recently realized that i make many people uncomfortable irl because i talk about my symptoms. i wasn’t aware it was wrong, because i’m autistic and struggle a lot with notions of public vs private space, and what can be said to whom. i’m very open about my disabilities and struggles, both because i don’t realize i’m saying something i shouldn’t, and because i don’t have a choice and often can’t mask (i am not high masking. not low masking either tho). i don’t wear unnoticeable noise cancelling headphones, they’re not good enough for me at all, i wear big obvious ear defenders with a fluorescent part. i sit down on the floor of a store if my legs hurt. i don’t sit normally anywhere, including at school, because i can’t, i can’t sit correctly and not move, it’s painful. i don’t hesitate to tell people i have terrible executive dysfunction. i openly say i am in pain and need to rest, even if it’s abnormal for a teenager to not have a healthy strong body. when it seems relevant to the conversation, i share the fact that i struggled with an eating disorder and self harm and that i recovered/am recovering. when someone asks me how i am doing, i tell them i’m feeling terrible because i am in pain or because i am suicidal or because i am overwhelmed— this is partly a choice to be open about my disability, partly the fact that i don’t notice until it’s too late that they don’t want me to be honest, and party the fact that there are many things i cannot hide. i tell people that i am not independent, can’t cook, can’t go to new places alone, can’t shop, can’t maintain hygiene and that i don’t shower enough or brush my teeth regularly. when someone asks if i plan on learning how to drive i say that i don’t want to right now because my processing issues would be dangerous and i would get in an accident. i tell people i have meltdowns and shutdowns at school. i hit myself in public sometimes.

yet i am not visibly disabled. i’m very lucky and privileged within the disabled community. i am visibly weird and there is visibly something wrong with me but i am only visibly disabled to someone who spends some time with me and sees me unable to process informations or unable to do IADLs. strangers don’t know i’m disabled until i tell them— they mock a symptom or ask why i can’t do something and i say i’m autistic, i’m disabled, i’m in pain. and they already hate that i tell them. they say it’s private. they say my struggles are something personal. something to talk about with doctors but that no one else should have to know about.

some people are way more disabled than me, visibly disabled, disabled at first glance. some use mobility aids, full time or not. some have intellectual disabilities, some use an AAC device, some have a physical disability that cannot be concealed or an intellectual/developmental/mental disability that very obviously affects the way they move or communicate. some people don’t have a choice to mask or not to mask, don’t have a choice to be visibly disabled or not. strangers will immediately notice that these people are disabled, even without engaging in a conversation with them. and they hate it ! disabled people are supposed to be quiet and invisible and going outside with ear defenders or a mobility aid or anything, no matter if it is a small or a huge accommodation, is too much. but the bigger it is or the more you need help to do a ‘basic, easy’ thing, the worse it is. they stare at me in the street because of my ear defenders, but they don’t just stare when someone is in a wheelchair, they touch and break and don’t have any respect.

ableists think disabled people shouldn’t be in their way because they think we shouldn’t exist or that we are worthless. having an accommodation or an aid in public is already activism for them, already disturbing, already forcing them to see that they are privileged and that the world is not accessible.

to exist as a disabled person is beautiful. it’s brave. it’s something to be proud of. not because it’s inspiring that you are strong enough to live with your disability, not because "someone else would have killed themselves already in your situation," not because "i could never be like that ! you’re so courageous !", but because ableism is everywhere and it’s so hard to live in this world where they don’t want us to exist. it’s so hard to advocate for ourselves.

and for those who are not visibly disabled (like me), or at least not always ; for those who have low support needs ; for those who know how to mask : point out inaccessibility. force people to see their own ableism. make them uncomfortable. it’s also our job, our responsibility. if someone mocks me and calls me useless because i can’t do IADLs i say i’m disabled, stay very calm and inform them that many people are unable to perform BADLs without help and that they deserve just as much help and respect as anyone else. if someone points out how annoying my ear defenders are i ask why the place isn’t accessible for people in a wheelchair. etc etc. listen to people with higher support needs than you and amplify their voices. but also act irl.

we can all do better and force society to be better to.

and remember that accessibility for you doesn’t mean accessibility for everyone.

a place that accommodates sensory issues might not have accessible toilets. so it’s not good enough. an autism support group meeting has stim toys and ear defenders and happens in a quiet place ? that’s wonderful ! can a nonverbal person participate ? are caregivers welcome ? we can’t just think that "something is better than nothing." yes it is, but it’s not good enough. if a place or an event is accessible for one thing but not for something else, then it’s not accessible. and we need to be loud about it.

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nebulaafterdark · 2 years

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More Than Anyone (Part 7)

Warnings: 18+ smut, targcest, lactation, childbirth

Y/N’s term is complete, her body aches. Though she rarely complains, perhaps she knows it will do no good. Or perhaps she had bore enough children that she is used to pain.

Aegon is not sure which. Dutifully he climbs into their bed each night, to hold her and soothe her tense muscles after a bath. Pressing the lightest of kisses to her skin. “After this babe we need no more heirs.” He kisses her temple reverently. Aegon does not wish her to suffer. “You have performed your duty. The crown is satisfied. I am satisfied.”

“What happened to ‘as many as you’ll give me?” Y/N jests. That’s the number of children he’d once asked her for.

The prince smiles, “I watched you bring our son into this world…I would not wish that pain on my enemy, least of all my dearest love.”

“But it’s worth it, wouldn’t you say?” Y/N grunts as she turns to face him.

“Our children are very dear to me.” You are also dear to me.

“Mayhaps this conversation should be tabled for a day when there is not a child pressing against my organs. I might be able to think a bit more clearly.”

“You know, my sweetheart,” Aegon begins chasing another train of thought. “The Maester once told me that babes can be coaxed out the same way they’re coaxed in.”

“Oh?” Y/N smirks, passing a hand over her swollen belly.

“Let me see here.” Aegon leans forward, giving sweet kisses to her bump. Then helping to work her nightgown and small clothes to the floor.

“Aegon,” she flushes, not used to his eyes on her in this state.

“You are beautiful,” he murmurs. “So pretty, so…full. Wonder how you’ll fair with my cock in you.”

Y/N whines, as he cups her breasts, thumbing her nipples to peaks before suckling at the left. The princess is so sensitive that she nearly bursts into tears. The soft pressure of Aegon’s lips finally draws the first signs of milk from within her. “Aegon.”

“You were brought into this world to be mine.” He murmurs, lapping at the droplets. “All the nights I lied awake, to drown myself in cups and wonder, ‘why me?’ I see it all so clearly now. I had to be born who I am and you had to be born who you are, so that our paths might cross. There is nothing we could do about it, our fate was written in the stars. This body longs for me as mine longs for you. All these years wasted fucking whores, to find relief from the aching hole in my heart, when it was you. My sweet girl.”

Y/N inhales sharply, as he latches on to the opposite breast. “I love you dearly, Aegon. So much so that my heart aches with it.”

He hums against her. To be loved, he had so often longed to be loved. His wife was born of love and therefore will never know half his demons. Though when he shared them, she took half their weight.

The Princess faces a different set of battles, to prove herself, to accept what is afforded her, acquired through fire and blood.

“Fuck,” Aegon sighs, his cock sliding easily into her warmth as she lies propped up against the pillows.

Her grin is lazy, spread across her lips like the cat who ate the canary. In this moment, she is every bit the spoiled little thing some thought her to be.

Her husband shifts his weight back on his ankles, fucking into her hard enough to make Y/N gasp. “Just there?” Aegon cocks his head to the side.

Y/N nods as he ruts against that spot within her. Fingers fumbling around in search of his hand. So much of her pleasure and her pain is held in his palms, where she finds comfort and strength in times of need.

Aegon twines their fingers together, feeling Y/N squeeze in time with her cunt. Full breasts bouncing wildly with each thrust. “To think this is what you’ve hidden from me all these years.” He clicks his tongue at her, never were his eyes allowed the privilege of her beauty great with his child.

“I still wish to hide,” she admits.

Aegon chuckles, draping the top sheet across her middle with his free hand. Watching with the softest of gazes as his sweet girl situates the material over her breasts, taking it down nearly to the place where they are joined. His strokes are slow and deep, lulling his wife to a gentle peak.

Y/N lets out a tiny sob as his hips snap against hers in quick succession. Throwing her headlong into a second orgasm, which soaks both of their thighs in her slick.

“Good girl,” Aegon praises, thumbing at her twitching bundle of nerves.

“Aegon,” she warns, catching his wrist.

“Once more,” he murmurs, close to the precipice himself.

“I can’t,” the pretty little thing hiccups beneath him.

Aegon only hushes her, “you can, sweetheart.”

“It hurts.” Too much of a good thing always does.

“Shhh,” he soothes, circling the swollen nub softly.

Tears well up in her eyes as she finds Aegon’s gaze.

“I’ve got you,” he coos.

The princess feels another climax building low in her belly. Breath leaving her in short puffs. “I-”

“I know,” Aegon groans, feeling her inner walls flutter around his cock. He draws pleasure from her cruelly. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Y/N wails, succumbing to him once more. Denied the ability to come down by his deft fingers, nudging back the hood of her pearl. “No more.” She pleads, bottom lip quivering. “Please, Aegon, please!”

The sound of her desperate pleas hurtle Aegon to his peak, cursing as thick ropes of cum fill her twitching cunt. Sore and twinging from exquisite torture.

He pulls out after a moment, collapsing beside her and brushing sweat damp hair from her face. Soft kisses as Y/N catches her breath, drying any trace of tears.

“That was an awful thing to do.” She chastises, no fire behind her words.

“Forgive me, my dearest love.” Aegon repents, helping to situate his wife on her side, a soft pillow cushioning her belly.

Y/N sighs, his arms coming round to stroke the babe in her womb.

“I will kiss it better, if you wish.” He taunts, earning a slap to his forearm.

“Don’t you even dream of it,” she nuzzles farther against him, despite her protest.

“Will you have your maids attend the birth this time?” The last time it was only the two of them. It was peaceful.

“If I ask for you and only you, will you be terribly upset?”

Aegon shakes his head. He would not be upset, “it would be my great honor.” To deliver another of their children…especially if this is to be their last.

Y/N let’s out a yawn, “that is what I want.”

————————————————————————

The morrrow comes too soon, forcing Y/N from the warmth of her bed to tend her duties. A council meeting, as heir, the princess cannot miss it.

She listens carefully, seated at the long table. Rhaenyra was born to be queen. Y/N hopes to make her proud.

As the minutes drag on, Jacaerys can’t help but notice his sister shifting uncomfortably in her chair. He inches closer, “sister? Is everything alright?”

To his surprise, she seizes his hand, squeezing tightly for a moment before exhaling harshly and coming back to herself. “I am well.” Y/N forces a smile as she releases his fingers.

He gawks at her while the blood returns to his hand. “Your labors.”

The princess quiets him. “Not now.”

“Are you mad?” Jace hisses, “this is not something you can postpone.”

“Mmm.” She hums out, low in her throat. Earning Daemon’s attention and then her mother’s.

“Is something the matter?” The Queen demands, they know better than to behave this way without cause.

“No. Forgive me, your grace.” Y/N chokes out, through a contraction.

“Yes,” Jace rats her out, “her labors have started.”

“Well,” Rhaenyra offers her daughter a kind smile. “You are excused, Princess.”

“Thank you, your grace.” Jacaerys nods, helping his sister to her feet.

“Ah,” she clutches at her lower belly as she stands.

Jace tosses her arm over his shoulder for support.

“Can’t believe you told her.” Y/N scowls, shuffling from the council room into the hall.

“Did you think I’d let you give birth during a small council meeting?”

“I could’ve made it.”

“Liar.”

“Fuck,” Y/N curses, forcing her legs to continue toward her chambers.

“How painful is it? If you had to say?” Jace wonders, soon his wife will be birthing their babe. He is doing his best to prepare.

“It is the worst pain I have ever known,” Y/N pants out. “Yet I would do it a hundred times more.”

He takes comfort in this. That it would be worth it; for her, for Baela. “Perhaps I could deliver my babe. Do you think Baela might like that?”

“I do not know, Jacaerys.” She bites out. “You are a kind man, a good husband, you will be a wonderful father.” Breathe, breathe. “But it is hard to speak at a time like this.”

“I apologize. Let us get you to Aegon.” The Prince sighs, hobbling down the corridor. Of course there’s the stairs, his poor sister…

“I can’t,” Y/N sobs out. This child is coming, she will not make it to the top. “I can’t, I can’t.”

“Y/N, tell me now, what can I do?” Jace helps her down, kneeling beside her on the bottom step.

“Send for Aegon, please hurry.”

“Surely you mustn’t be alone.”

“It’s just up the stairs, down the hall. I will be alright.” Y/N assures him.

“Very well,” he gives her shoulder a squeeze, making to stand. Dashing toward their chambers, Jace finds Aegon within. Newly clothed, unhurried.

“What is it?” Aegon frowns at the intrusion.

“Y/N is having the babe.” Jace pants out, having sprinted. “At the bottom of the staircase. Now.”

“Now?” Aegon all but shouts, rushing past his nephew, down the hallway and taking the steps two at a time. He finds his wife hunched forward, with her hands resting on her thighs, still fully clothed. “Sweetheart.”

“Help me,” Y/N pleads, shoving his arm up beneath her skirts.

“I’ve got you.” He murmurs, feeling the child has already begun crowning.

Y/N whimpers, this part never gets any easier.

“That’s it, sweet girl. We’ll have this babe in no time.”

Jacaerys is a few steps away, facing outward. Ensuring their safety and privacy in this moment.

“Oww, FUCK!”

“Breathe,” Aegon reminds her, their child’s head in his hand.

Her thighs tremble, aching from holding up her weight. Aegon peppers gentle kisses to the side of her face.

“I love you, more than you will ever know. And I am forever grateful for the family you have given me.” Aegon murmurs, as his wife bears down, the shoulders are tricky. “Our family.”

A few more moments of agony and the baby is in Aegon’s arms. Announcing their arrival with a loud wail.

“Thank the gods.” Jacaerys breathes, still facing away.

“Another boy, my darling.” Aegon informs Y/N, as she slumps down in relief.

“His hair-”

“I have been waiting, hoping even.” Aegon admits. “For a child with your features, perhaps you heard me in there, hmm?” He cooes at his son.

“Aegon,” Y/N smiles.

“Hmm?”

“His name,” she explains. “I wish to name him Aegon…after you. My dearest love.”

“Are you certain?” Tears prickle at the back of his eyes.

Y/N knows he can deny her nothing. “I have never been more certain.”

Series Taglist: @sophiexoxosblog @alicentswife @f4ll-for-you @tempt-ress @percyjacksonspeen @zoleea-exultant @midnightrqin @buckystevelove @httpjiikook @neenieweenie @springholland @zeennnnnnn @yelenabeleovapocket @nejiho3 @thatkindofgurl @aemondsb1tch @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @kiahpapaya @existential-echo @zzz000eee @janelongxox @bunny24sstuff @alitaar @minttea07 @rwdkarla @bibli0thecary @loxbbg

#hotd smut #house of the dragon #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen #hotd aegon #aegon ii #aegon targaryen smut #aegon the elder #aegon smut

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pedripics · 4 months

Text

Pedri via Residency - May 28, 2024

What is something you still want to accomplish in life? - " A lot of things. I am still very young or do you already want to kill me?"

Favourite teammate at Barça? - "I am close with the group in general but Ferran"

Do you play any instruments? or would you like to learn how to play one? - "Better not for the sake of the rest of the people. I like to listen to music but not much else" Favourite series or movie? - "Mi reno de peluche and the one about chapo guzman; favourite favourite is Prison Break and La que se avecina"

Do you know anything about Armenia? - "not too much, to be honest… but recently a very nice driver took me to a shooting was from there. His name was Ara"

Favourite moment of the season? - "It wasn't the best season. On a personal level, I would say the brace."

How do you deal with criticism? - "I try to stay out of it, although it's not always possible, of course... you have to try and keep going and keep believing in yourself"

How do you feel about being able to play for Spain after such a long time? - "Very happy. I haven't been able to play for Spain for a long time. Hopefully we will have great EUROs and also a great 24/25 season with Barça"

How did you feel after the brace? - "crazyyyyy"

"I always try to stop and sign, because I remember when I asked for signatures as a kid"

Plans for the summer? - "I hope to go on vacation, but in a month and a half… that will mean that we go far in the euro with the national team"

Have you eaten German food before? - "Yesss... a member of my marketing team is German and he made us German food a long time ago, with sausages and so on"

How is your English? - "I still have to improve a lot. Give me a few months and I will answer in English"

Do you miss doing anything in your daily life? - "I can't complain. I like to live in peace"

Would you like to go to China? - "Of course, yes. Althpugh in the season there is not really time for anything and during holidays I prefer to stay close and rest. Let's see if we ever have a tour in China"

How many trophies have you won? - "With Barça, La Liga, Copa and Supercopa"

Do you feel ready for the EUROs? - "Siiii"

5 UCL Trophies or a World Cup? - "I don't want to choose. I would like to win it all"

Would you like to play against Portugal in the EUROs final? - "Sure. As long as we play in the final, I don't care against who it is"

Pele or Maradona? - "Maradona... Because he played for Barça and my father told me about him when I was younger. I remember the day he died very well because it was my 18th birthday"

Have you been to New York? - "Yes"

Favourite team to play against? - "Obviously Barça" (he did NOT understand that question lmaooo back to duolingo it is)

Visit Uruguay? You have a lot of fans here - "Ronald also told me once... We'll have to listen to him, because otherwise he gets angry"

How was it going to the Spanish GP in 2022? Are you going this year? - "It was a crazy experience. I don't think I can go this year because it clashes with the EUROs"

Do you like going to concerts? - "I haven't been to many, honestly... I have yet to go to one of Quevedo's. And last year they invited me from Spotify to see Coldplay in Barcelona but in the end I didn't go and I regretted it a little. Teammates went and they love it" (who tf turns down coldplay tickets??? 😭)

Your dad is a great person. - "The best"

How do you feel about receiving so much love? - "Very proud and privileged"

Do you want to score for Spain during the EUROs? - "Clarooo. Let's see if I can make it happen, because I haven't scored for Spain yet"

Red or blue? - "Azulgrana"

Do you like to cook? - "I'm not very good at cooking... My brother and mother are much better"

Pedri or Pedro? - "Pedri... Pedro sounds strange to me. From a young age they already called me Pedri, because there was another boy in the team whose name was Pedro and it was to differentiate us... and everyone calls me Pedri"

What do you think of Alexia, Aitana and Marta? - "They are top footballers!"

Is it difficult to have a 'normal' life? - "It's not easy, but mine doesn't change that much because I really like to be quiet and at home"

Only fish or only meat? - "I prefer meat... but for nutrition, fish"

When you were a kid did you make trouble in class? - "I was more of a quite kid"

Who do you think will win the Golden Boy award? - "Well, I hope a Barça teammate. Lamine, and if not Cubarsi"

What inspires you to perform at such a high level on the field? - "I do what I like the most"

What do you think of your season at Barça this year? - "I was saying this the other day. It hasn't been an easy season and I hope the next one will be much better in every single way and we will win titles"

Have you ever wished to have a sister? - "My mother always wanted to have a daughter, but in the end she had to settle for Fer and me hahaha"

How do you feel for the EUROs? - "Very good. Better and better"

Blue or Black? - "Blue"

#pedri #pedri gonzalez #fc barcelona #*residency

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dapg-otmebytheballs · 3 months

Note

hi!!

i don’t feel right putting my opinion here as i am white and from the us so im not even close to the demographic of people you’re talking about, but i just wanted to say i like reading your posts!

now i don’t know everything that dan and/or phil has said, but i do think it’s important to realize the context

i really do wish they were going to other countries, as it does suck that they aren’t able to see everyone, but i’m also sure they have a valid reason for not, whatever that reason may be…i can’t see them deliberately avoiding other countries just cause there’s “better” options (not saying there are better options i just couldn’t think of another word hehe)

i feel very privileged to be in a place financially (barely) and geographically to see it

i don’t think it’s that outlandish to say that they’ll do something to attempt to make up to the people who couldn’t see it, but i know it won’t be as good as it should be, which isn’t fun

also, i will agree that i don’t like the arguments of other countries not accepting of gay rights, as there’s not much weight there. not only do gay people live there too, but they’ve been to japan three different times. they love it there, and while there’s other countries that are definitely worse when it comes to queer rights, gay marriage isn’t legal there and they obviously know that

jesus christ i yap so fucking much i apologize

tl;dr, i completely understand what your saying, and while calling them “racist” is a little harsh, i definitely understand that not going to other places is not ideal and wish they are able to be more inclusive to everyone

i know they’re touring cause they love it, especially dan, and that going everywhere is impossible, but that does not mean that people can’t complain about them not going over to where they live

i’m sorry this is so long, i just can not stop typing ffs

Hey! So yeah again as I've said many times but feel the need to reiterate: what originally started the discussions from poc and particularly non western blogs was that they have made disparaging remarks particularly to do with tours like come to brazil type remarks and then not taken time to add on like, one line or anything somewhere about not touring in entire continents.

Also obviously we don't think they aren't visiting because they think we're lower to them or whatever, and I'd say you'd be hard pressed to find a post on my blog that says that. Seriously, try it, no implications of the sort have been made, we are just saying it's clear that they've never felt the need to makeup for past mistakes either, and then the phandom defends them each time and all of that together feels very alienating, especially when western fans talk down to us constantly and feel the need to tell us to chill out or whatever and make it out to be that the tour is the primary issue

It isn't! This isn't about the tour!!! The tour was the latest thing that sparked the discussions again because some people, especially LATAM fans who have microagressed So Often, were understandably thinking "seriously they aren't gonna say anything about it?"

And again, I will ask that you try because you'll be hard pressed to find a post on my blog where we day dnp "are racists". My previous ask to this also explains this but just because someone "isn't racist" doesn't mean that when they do racist things we don't call those things "racist behaviours". Racist microagressions are still racist even when coming from goody two shoes progressives. Please understand this and don't get defensive over the language, it's a humble request

And if I may for anyone else looking to talk with me about this in any way, please please stop bringing up the tour with me. I don't care about the tour, I promise you I do not care about the tour, you can talk with me about the other stuff but I've just said it in almost every post I've made: I Do Not Care About Them Not Touring Here, it's small fucking potatoes and it's more western fans' defensiveness and racist remarks while trying to defend them for no reason that are Far Far more of a problem racism (and orientalism) wise than DnP not talking about the tour yet, I don't carrrreee About that I care about what you all are directly saying to US which is more hurtful

I hope this clears stuff up for you and others, again, no hard feelings whatsoever, you were genuinely reaching out and I appreciate that ❤️

#asks

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grapejuicestyless · 10 months

Note

hey, i eat up everything you write!!! i would love to request maybe a sunshine y/n vs grumpy Conrad (or harry .. I think it will work for either) set in college ! maybe it’s because i’m in uni right now but i am a true sucker for uni based stories 🥲😭 maybe she could be an art major or literature? … eee just an idea !!! thank you 🌟🫶🏻🧚🏻

Mona Lisa

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: You always kept your head up. Each inconvenience was simply a coincidence. But even the biggest balls of sunshine need a break sometimes.

Her chest expanded out, cheeks puffed up, lips pursed in a tight line. Her hands shook under the weight of her textbooks. Her tote bag was slung over her shoulder, but the cautious girl feared that even with the extra wiggle room between the canvas bag, all her things would break it and leave her with nothing at all to aid her.

Her late start had taken the energy out of her, the stairs had taken away her willpower, and the red marks littering her latest exam papers had taken away her spirit. Paint cracked over her knuckles and glasses pulling her hair back, she heard her mothers voice in her head.

“Don’t do that, you’ll stretch them out and they won’t fit properly. Though they still seemed to fit fine, the slight sliding down the bridge of her nose every so often proved her mother right.

She had picked art as her major. She had ambitions, goals and aspirations. Her past teachers had complemented her craftsmanship. Her skill behind an easel. Picking up her paper as an example, using her to demonstrate how to execute certain techniques. It didn’t excuse her from her other classes, however. That was her own decision to make. The idea of having no other classes but ones revolving around the arts would drive her academic side crazy. So each new semester, she enrolled herself into a few classes she didn’t really need to take, but would enjoy. Or so she thought.

It wasn’t like she was stupid, she thrived in the past. In many ways, she was a poet. She had a mind like no other, the words would simply come to head as soon as the pen hit the paper. But math taken away her vanity, and history was a drag more so than not. God, she couldn’t bear to sit through another lecture about some old white guy who would otherwise mean nothing to anyone if it weren’t for the many who refused to let them and their scandalous actions go.

Y/n knew better than to complain. She knew how privileged she was to even be able to attend a school as such. She didn’t have the wealth, but she had the motivations in her past that had driven her to a certain level of success. Something good enough to land her scholarships. She was good at keeping her head up, more so than not. Each struggle would only create another work for her to make.

It was normal to feel down, even knowing this. She was simply glad to be able to step over the threshold to her apartment. The key couldn’t turn fast enough in her eyes. All she longed for was a little warmth and maybe a cup of coffee to keep her going for the rest of the day. More than that, she longed for him. The man who so graciously wrapped his arms around her shoulder every night and whispered sweet nothings to her. Singing messy melodies and dedicating the lyrics to her while she sleeps.

Her shoulders sagged, only to stiffen when she saw how the December nip had come through her roommates open window.

But she didn’t grumble something mean under her breath. She had known she must’ve done it once or twice before too. Her roommate who she loved very much surely hadn’t meant any harm.

Her slippers were inviting, and his sweatshirt hanging by her door was the final piece she was missing. His smell, welcoming and warm. He smelled of toasted vanilla and pine. There were hints of hair gel in the sleeves, from how often he ran his hands through his hair. She didn’t mind the fray in the hem or how the strings were missing from the hood. It was Harry in every sense. And it was enough for her.

She thought that was the end of it, truly. She figured she could take a deep breather and let the stress of the day ease out of her veins. That now, with the university behind her and her classes over for the day, she could settle into her work and let the soft melodies of her playlist distract her.

Sitting on the floor, her legs folded neatly in front of her, she picked up her brush delicately between her fingers and her thumb, twiddling it around and biting her lips. When she went to reach for the paint the cap seemed looser than usual. When she picked it up, the top fell to the floor, spinning out to a step a few feet away. Her acrylic dried out presumably from sitting open for days while she worked on her studies and pushed away her art classes.

Portfolios were bare, sketchbooks a mess and worse, she was falling so far behind she was grinding out projects at an inhuman pace. All to simply be rejected or judged poorly. Nothing was ever enough and soon she would become just another burn out if she couldn’t pull it together.

Picking up the bottle, she searched for any signs of wet paint still surviving. She squeezed and turned it hoping to find a glimmer of anything. When she let go, in defeat, remaining acrylic splattered across her cheats and into her hair. Sticky and half dried.

Setting the bottles down, she reminded herself to breathe. To remember how she’d even got here. She was lucky, she had already made it farther than most of her old peers.

‘It couldn’t possibly get any worse.’ She thought out loud, keeping up her fading smile to try and keep her eye from twitching. Ever the optimist, she decided to simply move on, enjoy a nice brewed cup of coffee before settling down to watch one of the shows she had thrown herself into to distract her from the harsh realities of the stressful life she was living currently.

Trudging a few feet from her room to the kitchen, she saw the counter sprinkled with brown and white sugars and flour. It was a mess, one her lovely roommate had left, but one she could deal with later. She didn’t mind the chaos so much.

What she did mind was the sticky note attached to the coffee pot, stained brown on the bottom, grounds stuck underneath it on the stove. It was pink with curly lettering and a half hearted frowning face. ‘Out of coffee. Running to the store tonight after class.’ It read.

It shouldn’t have pissed her off, but her blood was heating up and her brain pounded in her skull. She couldn’t cozy up, it was far too cold. Fine. Her paint was dried. She was tired a few night ago, honest mistake. She could go buy more soon. Her coffee was gone. She found it in herself to brush it off, smiling to herself at the sight of a fresh pot of coffee for the morning. The longer the wait, the more worth it, it would surely be. She could be patient. She was patient.

She would focus her anger into something productive. She could wash the dishes, she guessed. Clean out the sink that was littered in stained plates and empty mugs. She would scrub until her fingers resembled those of her grandmas. Finger tips littered with wrinkles from decades of love, only hers would be shriveled from the constant presence of water bathing them.

And she forgot about her worries for a minute. Hot water running over her skin, mug slowly filling under the stream of water as her eyes drifted off. She saw herself sock clad feet, dancing along the tiled floors to a soft melody that resembled a love song. And beside her was a larger pair of feet, swaying along to the beat and laughing along about how neither of them knew how to dance. But they would learn.

They had the whole world at their feet and their youth still surrounding them. These were the good years, and it could only get better.

The door opened with such veracity, she was so sure it would come off the hinges. Startled, her head whipped to the door, already on edge, already struggling to calm herself down.

“Y/n/n?” His accent was thick and low. She had never felt more relieved to see someone so much.

His eyes were the purest shade of green she had ever seen. They put her art to shame. It’s why she never painted him. There was more mixture of colors that could capture the way they twinkled. Even when they were dim with anger or despair, they held so much depth it felt so impossible to paint. No talent could make her lose herself in the greens like his eyes could.

“Harry.” She breathed his name out like it was the best thing she could ever have. He could see the way her eyes gleamed and glistened at him, lips pulled into a genuine smile, softer than usual, but he blamed it on her eight a.m class.

She smelled like espresso, the coffee pot filling with murky water in the sink. Coffee and paint. She didn’t set the mug running under the water down, but the overflow splashing onto her knuckles reminded her to put it on the drying rack.

When she turned, he was there, a hand guiding her closer to him on her back, and lowered eyes looking into hers.

His lips felt like heaven on hers, and she wished he would have kept them there forever, but much to her dismay, he pulled away just as quickly as he came. Already dropping his bags down and grumbling about something that had happened in his organic chemistry class. Something about his professor, or whatever. She stopped listening to lean on the counter, she reminded herself to try and breathe.

“God, he’s such a moron.” He moaned, rubbing his temples. She did the same with her back turned. When she faced him, she plastered on a false smile.

“It can’t be that bad.” She tried to reason. He rolled his eyes, grumbling about how she was far too kind, too patient. So she turned her back to him again, fighting away the urge to grumble something back to him. Kindness was not the same as optimism, something that was wearing very thin in the usually very bubbly girl. It was that trait she carried so much over that balanced out the bad that Harry could bring. His glass-half-empty point of view and his constant grumbling about anyone who wasn’t her.

He continued complaining about his day, unaware of how his love was just a few feet away, struggling from her own stress, gripping the counter so harshly her knuckles turned white.

“Sometimes I wish I was an art major like you. God, it seems so much easier.” He didn’t mean it like that, she knew he didn’t mean it like that. She agreed, even. After all, she wasn’t taking organic chemistry or studying the human body in such depth as he did. She studied Van Gogh and Picasso. The crazy man who really wasn’t all that crazy who cut off his own ear. She reminded herself to breathe, just breathe. But when she took that deep breath in, it got stuck.

Why couldn’t she breathe? Why was it stuck in her throat, refusing to escape? She grew frustrated, not with him, but with herself. Tears brimmed her eyes so much, even the plates right beside her blurred into a haze of nothing. There was nothing left to distract her, to keep her up. The sink was empty, she was just running the water by now. And the sound of it should have calmed her but instead she felt very similarly to some of the greats. She could cover her ears and scream all she wanted. But would it ever be heard?

The soft shaking of her shoulders alerted him first. How pitiful she sounded, silently crying and huffing up small gasps to keep her sorrow that way. But he was so smart, in her eyes, even though he thought the exact opposite, even smarter than herself. He knew before she could even try to pull herself together.

“Love, hey.” His voice was soft, like he was unsure of what to do. And when he turned, he couldn’t help but feel ashamed. There she was, his love crying and falling apart so openly and all he could do was stand there like a big idiot.

Luckily for him, she’d made the first move, wrapping her arms up around him so tightly, all he had to do was pull her closer.

“Y/n/n, whats wrong?” He rubbed her hair, pulling the ends gently between his fingers.

“I’m a failure!” It was rare that Y/n broke down like this. It seemed impossible on some days. How upbeat and unfazed she carried herself. Always walking around with a warm smile plastered on her face. But she was only human. It had to happen sometimes. It was only natural.

Pulling her away, he held onto her to keep her steady. His thumbs rubbed at her tears gently. Her gorgeous eyes, once sparkling were now clouded by her own sadness. A wave of emotion he somehow hadn’t read from her moments ago.

“I mean, look at me, Harry! I’m barely scraping by in my math class, I’ve been surviving off of the same three paintings all semester and I smell like wet dirt! And don’t you dare say I don’t because I can smell it and I can see the grounds on my skin! Right next to the dry paint that I can’t even use!” Harry couldn’t help the way he laughed. Not at her, but for her. To her, the smell of coffee and paint was something so sickening. He would think the same if he were her. Inhaling the fumes every second of his life for years. But to him, she was a breath of fresh air. The chaos in her life something so extraordinary compared to his LED white lab lifestyle he had submitted himself to.

His hand wrapped around hers, which was now poking into his chest pathetically, her lips quivering like it physically pained her to be so upset.

“What?” She sniffled, almost embarrassed by the intensity of his gaze. Normally so stone cold, but one she had learned to read over time. The very small changes in the way he crinkled his nose or moved his brows. She couldn’t read it now, though. Not with the blinding tears falling down her cheeks.

There was no amount of times Harry could swipe his thumbs over her cheek, more and more would stain them it seemed like. And he didn’t quite get it. How could he? While she was breaking down about her failures all he could see was a woman who had already given so much and held no bitterness to those who caused her the pain. She could only reflect it back onto herself.

And while she talked down on herself, crying about her stress and how run down she must have looked to him, all Harry could think was how she could be Mona Lisa if Mona Lisa had a prettier face.

“Nothing.” He whispered, voice sticky and wet from not talking for so long. Her tears rolled down slower until nothing was left, eyes stuck forever searching his for any sign of disgust, but it never came.

“I just love you, is all.” Y/n could’ve laughed at how sappy her otherwise grumpy boyfriend was being. His dopey smile and kind eyes looking at her in a way she hadn’t seen all day. She almost forgot completely why she was upset, if it weren’t for the empty hole in her heart still eating away at her.

“I love you too.” She laughed, more so at herself than him at how quickly her frown had turned into a smile.

“Good.” He took her hand, slotting her arm around the small of his back so that his could rest over her shoulders. He could rest his head over hers and whisper all the sweet nothings that always seemed to charm her into a lavender haze.

And the laughter she emitted only reminded the both of them of how peaceful even the heaviest of rains could be.

To Harry, in many ways Y/n was the sun. Sometimes the clouds like to cover it, but they always pass by, and the sun comes out again.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #yn x harrystyles #fine line harry styles #harry styles angst #hslot harry #harry styles

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cheolism · 1 year

Text

on his back

➳ kim mingyu x f!reader

➳ summary: when you send a picture of you struggling from the lack of ac in your office and scold mingyu for sticking his hand down his pants, he can't help but get on his back and spread his legs for you.

➳ word count is approx 3k

➳ tags/warnings (PLEASE READ): sub!gyu, bottom!gyu,. dom!reader, top!reader. reader has female anatomy, refers to breasts and bras. anal penetration (male receiving), anal sex and fingering. prostate massage/milking. degradation and praise, nicknames (slut, whore, bitch; babyboy, sweetheart)(male receiving); use of the word "pervert". over stimulation, multiple orgasms, crying during sex. big dick!gyu, size kink but you've got smaller hands than him and he's obsessed. he's a bit of a perv at the beginning. use of dildos, mating press (male receiving). switches between gyu and reader's pov, reader does not orgasm. the dildo is sometimes referred to as the reader's "dick"

➳ please. if you do not like this sort of thing, do not read. mdni.

Mingyu was going to revoke your picture-taking privileges.

The conversation was innocent, of course. You were complaining about the temperature of the office, the air conditioning having decided to quit on one of the hottest days so far.

my baby 💍✨🙈💛:

the ac is broke and i am suffering so. much.

gyu my shirt is literally stuck to my skin.

i look like i’ve been walking thru a swamp

look

The picture you sent, although you had innocent intentions, did not-so-innocent things to Mingyu.

Your shirt was sticking to your torso, the fabric doing nothing against the heat. He could seat the outline of your bra against it, could see how it clung to your breasts. Your hair was stuck to your face in several places, forehead shining from the thin layer of sweat that had accumulated during your time in the sweltering office.

You really did look like you've been walking through a swamp, or even just have been walking outside during the height of summer, when the sun was relentless and city pavement did nothing to alleviate the heat and instead trapped it. Like you spent the hour running on a treadmill, like you've spent the past hour leaning over Mingyu, hands deep in his ass.

Mingyu couldn’t help but stare at the picture for several minutes. He was very aware of his dick swelling in his pants, of it angrily throbbing for attention, but he ignored it in favor of running his eyes over your face and torso over and over.

Then you sent another message.

my baby 💍✨🙈💛:

ugh i just went to the bathroom too. fucking underwear is soaked

If Mingyu had a list of phrases that could immediately get him to full hardness, that would be towards the top for sure.

He knew, logically, this was all about your suffering through the heat. That your underwear was damp from sweat, not from your arousal. You were sweaty from the heat, not from sex. Sweaty from being trapped in your office, not trapped between his thighs.

But fuck, if there was one thing about Mingyu, it was that he had an imagination.

So he leaned against the kitchen counter, abandoning the dishes. He stuck his hand down his pants, eyes still hooked on your picture and texts. His dick was a heavy, comforting weight in his hand, long and thick.

Mingyu hissed between his teeth, smoothing his hand down his cock. He rubbed his thumb against the tip, forcing precum from it.

“My underwear is so wet,” he could practically hear you saying, could hear the taunting tone of your voice. Mingyu wondered if he’d be able to smell it, smell your cunt as you bullied him.

my baby 💍✨🙈💛:

gyu? what are you doing? i can see you reading my messages

His hand tightened on his dick, heart racing in his chest.

my baby 💍✨🙈💛:

oh my god

are you? masturbating? to my sweaty fucking selfie?

Mingyu sucked in a shallow breath, hand squeezing his cock. Then he gathered the precum that had gathered at the tip. He began to spread it along the length of his dick, the fluid not enough to ease the friction of skin against skin, his palm against his cock, but Mingyu moaned into the feel of it, groaning at the drag of his calluses against his sensitive cock. He couldn't help but buck his hips up into his hand, to continue to seek out the feeling.

my baby 💍✨🙈💛:

kim mingyu.

what a fucking pervert. i can’t believe you’re fucking your dick bc of a single selfie of me sweating.

is that it? are you a dirty pervert, kim mingyu?

Whining at the back of his throat, Mingyu squeezed his eyes shut momentarily. His hand picked up speed against his cock, thumb working at the veins and tip. The drag of his hand against his cock, the feel of his hand working his dick felt so good, but Mingyu still couldn’t help but feel like he was missing something.

Mingyu brought his hand from his pants. He wiped it off on his sweats before typing, thumbs flying over the keyboard in his rush, not even comprehending what he was saying.

me:

Please

my baby 💍✨🙈💛:

get yourself ready. i’ll take a half day bc of the heat.

can't believe my boyfriend's so fucking needy he'll jack off to a sweaty selfie of me.

if you’ve cum before i get home, you’re not cumming in me for a week. understand, babyboy?

answer me, mingyu.

me:

Yes

Wont

Mingyu practically ran for the bedroom, shoving his sweats down his long legs and leaving them in the hall. He automatically went for the bedside table, taking out the large bottle of lube. Excitement, desperation, and lust coursed through his veins, not even bothering to take off his shirt as he climbed onto the bed.

Mingyu gathered the pillows towards him, stuffing them beneath his hips, raising them slightly to help with the angle. His hands practically shook as he snapped open the bottle, as he squeezed harshly to force lube out and onto his hand.

He ignored his large, aching, dick, how Mingyu's thighs shook, clenching, desperate for attention. Instead he focused on his asshole, pressing one single finger against his rim.

He wished it was your finger pressing against his hole, wished it was you kneeling between his knees, your fingers, smaller than his, working his ass. Wished you were leaning over him, cooing at him, bullying him, the tips of your fingers massaging against his prostate, bringing tears to the corners of his eyes.

You’d laugh at him. He could practically hear it. You’d laugh at him, berate him, tell him off for being too loud. Call him a desperate little slut, your desperate little slut. You’d say how pretty he looks on his back for you, how pretty his little hole is.

Mingyu bit down on his lip sharply, canines tugging. He dug his heels into the bed, willing himself to slow down. He had worked two of his fingers in, deliberately missing his prostate in hopes of staving off an orgasm in attempt to obey you.

He could come like this, he thought. Fingers in his ass, mind filled with thoughts of you.

And then you were there at the doorway to your shared bedroom. Just like in the picture, you were sweaty. Your hair stuck to your neck, face shining with sweat. You raised your eyebrows at him as you crossed into the bedroom, and he watched, desperate and wanton, as you pulled off your work shirt and tossed it to the ground.

Mingyu watched as you went to the closet, hoping fervently you were doing what he thought you were. You hadn’t said anything to him yet, the room quiet other than the sound of his fingers, slick, working at his ass, and his heavy pants. Suspense seemed to build between the two of you, Mingyu so desperately wanting some sort of acknowledgment.

Finally you climbed onto the bed, Mingyu’s dildo in hand. It was his favorite. It was as large as he was, colored a soft pink that reminded him of flowers. He couldn't help but squeeze his eyes shut at the sight of it, hole clenching against his fingers.

“You didn’t cum, did you?”

Your voice had his hole tightening involuntarily, his body already reacting to you.

“No,” he whined, voice pitchy. Mingyu bit down on his lip, arching his back a little. He wanted to look pretty for you, and he knew he did. He knew what he looked like, long figure splayed on the bed. His thick thighs spread wide, hips tilted up to make the reach to his hole easier. Sun-kissed legs, long and thick and muscled, opening and making room for your body to wedge between them.

“What a good boy you are,” you praised. Mingyu grinned in satisfaction, feeling your praise settle deep within him, his stomach twisting pleasantly and sending more heat to his dick.

But then you’re pulling his hand from his ass, his hole frantically clenching around his fingers in an attempt to keep them in. Sighing, you frowned at him in disapproval. "Gyu. If you want me to fuck you then you have to get your hand out of your ass."

Mingyu pouted, but he did as you said.

You grab the lube bottle from where it had been abandoned beside him, squeezing out a generous amount. Two of your fingers then pressed against his ass, and then he’s immediately pushing his hips down onto you, desperate to get your fingers inside.

You laughed, your other hand bracing on his knee. You pushed his leg back, baring more of his ass. “God, Mingyu. Look at you. So fucking desperate for me to fuck your ass, are you?”

“Yes,” he sighed. “Want you to fuck me, baby.”

Giggling, you lean down and press a kiss to his knee, his heart fluttering and the skin you kissed tingling. Your fingers pressed into his hole, but when he tried to grind down on them you pull back. “Mingyu. You gotta be patient for me. If we go too fast you’ll hurt.”

Mingyu whined, pouting. He wanted you to fuck him already, wanted to feel your dick stretching him out regardless of the pain. But he knew, logically, it was for the best, and if it were the other way around he'd take great care not to hurt you.

“I can always get the smaller dick,” you say tauntingly, knowing for a fact Mingyu would rather be prepped for an hour straight, bullied to the point of weeping, than to give up the large dick resting beside you.

“No,” he tossed his head back against the bed, toes curling. “No. I’ll be good; be patient.”

You cooed at him, and then your fingers were reentering his hole. Your two fingers were smaller than his, had less girth and length. But you pressed them inside, a loud moan escaping Mingyu’s lips at the intrusion nonetheless,. You laughed at him meanly, fingers rubbing against his walls.

“What a fucking slut,” you taunt him. You begin to work your fingers inside of him, scissoring them, spreading out his walls and deliberately ignoring his prostate. “Look at how fucking desperate you are for me, Kim Mingyu. Fucking slut.”

“Yours,” he choked out, voice tight. Your fingers were smaller than his, yes, but fuck if they didn’t feel wonderful inside of him. His fingers were longer, yes, but yours seemed to contain heaven. The way you worked your fingers inside of his ass, the way you maneuvered them, tauntingly, teasingly, bullying him. It was like you knew his body, his mind, better than he did. Your hands were smaller than his, but fuck if he didn’t love, adore, how they made him feel.

You laughed again, twisting your fingers in his ass. “Yes, Mingyu. You’re my slut. My desperate slut of a boyfriend, my whore that can’t even keep his head out of the fucking gutter long enough for me to complete a workday.”

You withdrew your hands. He immediately whined in protest, brow furrowing. You threw him a look, reaching out and slapping his thick thigh sharply. “Mingyu. I said you have to be patient.”

“‘m sorry,” he murmured. He wasn’t, of course.

And you knew that. You ignored it however, focusing on Mingyu’s ass. You readjusted your hand, searching --

When your fingers brushed against Mingyu’s prostate he couldn’t help but let out a loud moan, back arching, toes curling. Your fingers pulled back, away from his prostate, only for you to press them back forcefully. Then, as if you were working at your clit, you began massaging your fingers against his prostate.

Mingyu’s mouth dropped open, a soundless moan escaping him. You pressed down on his hip to keep him down, your fingers gently rubbing his prostate all the while, eyes dark and watching his every twitch, every brush of his eyelashes against his cheek as he fought to keep his eyes open.

“So fucking beautiful like this, babyboy,” you murmured. And he was beautiful. His golden skin, long, muscled limbs. His large body shivering, hips canting down onto your fingers, this Adonis of a man so weak for your touch. “God, Gyu. You’re so gorgeous, so fucking -- a whore for my fingers, fucking yourself on them like a bitch.”

Then your hand was wrapping around Mingyu’s cock. You jerked him only twice before Mingyu was cumming on your hand, asshole so tight around your fingers that you couldn’t help but keep your fingers in.

“Good boy,” you praised him, your hand steadily pulling at his dick as he came, milking his cock. He could barely hear you over his moans, but still your words of praise seemed to stimulate his orgasm even more, cum thick and covering your hand and his stomach.

Once his body relaxed, his chest heaving, you removed your hand from his ass. He whined, high and sensitive, at the movement. But he knew what was coming next.

The head of your dick pressed against his ass, your other hand bracing against his knee once again. You waited until Mingyu was opening his eyes, waiting for him to make eye contact. “You good, Gyu? You okay?”

His nod had you slowly, gently, pressing the tip of your dick into his hole. His body clenched down on the dick, betraying him, halting the movement.

You cooed, free hand traveling. You smoothed it over his skin, your touch drawing goosebumps, massaging. “Gotta relax, Gyu. Relax for me, baby. Gotta relax so I can fuck you.”

Mingyu willed his body to relax, to melt into the bed. He wanted you to fuck him so badly, wanted your dick to bruise his prostate, wanted your hands to leave bruises on his body. He refused to let his body ruin this for him.

Once his body relaxed, and despite Mingyu’s whines for you to hurry, you guided the dick slowly inside of him. His ass clenched around it, tightening around your dick and the intrusion.

“Be a good boy,” you reminded him. You continued to work your dick inside of him until the balls were snugly against his ass, the long length completely buried. “How are you feeling, sweetheart? Doing okay?”

Mingyu groaned, lashes fluttering as he tried to remember how to speak. The dick was huge, filling his hole and the head pressing against his prostate. He felt so full and complete with your dick inside of him.

He fucking loved it.

“Good,” he mumbled, pressing his head back into the pillows, baring his thick throat, the veins of it prominent. “Feels good. Fucking -- feels good.”

You giggled, swooping down to press another kiss to his knee. Then you were moving against him, hand pressing his knee to his chest once more, the movement shifting your cock inside of him.

You fucked into him swiftly, setting a harsh, brutal pace remnant of how Mingyu would fuck you. You knew, after hundreds of times fucking Mingyu, how to fuck him. How to angle the dick in his ass to ensure it brushed against his prostate, how to slide it slowly out of his body, letting his walls drag against it, how to thrust it sharply back in.

Mingyu’s moans were loud and lewd, the noises like music. You fucked him until his cock was rising once again, and you continued to fuck him even as another orgasm exploded from his body.

“So beautiful,” you repeated, eyes stuck on his body, on the piece of heaven panting and whining, his hands twisting against your sheets. “Absolutely beautiful, Gyu. You okay to keep on going?”

At his nod you pulled back, withdrawing your dick from his ass. Mingyu gasped, eyes flying open, wide and betrayed.

“Don’t worry, you little slut,” you laughed, fond. You rose to your knees, leaving the dick to the side of his body. With both hands free you pushed back on both of his knees, which had naturally relaxed during his orgasm, pressing until both of his knees were to his chest, legs knocking against your shoulders.

You kept one hand on his shoulders, keeping his torso in place. Your other hand returned to the dick, and you pulled back from his body just enough to press the tip back against his hole. It was a bit awkward, but when his lashes began to flutter from your dick reentering, lips parting, you forgot about the awkwardness.

His long body, even as his back, seemed to engulf you. Mingyu’s arms wrapped around your shoulders, grabbing and pulling at you; his legs crossed at the ankles, feet knocking against your back. He was so big, the fucking picture of traditional masculinity.

And here he was: on his back, your dick in his ass.

Your pace was cruel this time, unforgiving. The slap of your balls against his ass filled the room, joined with his whines. You fucked into him, eyes trained on his face, drinking in every single movement.

“Taking it like a good little slut,” you praised him, “taking it like a good bitch, yeah? Is that what you want, baby? Want me to fuck you like a slut, like a whore?”

You were relentless in fucking him, refusing to let up. When tears appeared at the corner of his eyes you couldn’t help the thrill that shot through you, the satisfaction at seeing your boyfriend cry so prettily from your dick.

When he came for the third time, you held the dick in his ass despite how his hole clenched around it, trying to push the obtrusion back out. After what seemed like forever you were pressing your mouth to his, your hand tangling in his hair, tongue forcing its way into his mouth.

He was a wreck. His mouth could barely keep up with yours, cheeks glistening with his tears. His bangs stuck to his forehead, sweat clinging to his skin.

Mingyu grinned cutely, his hands settling on your shoulders. His thumbs dug into your skin, nails scratching lightly.

“How cute,” you cooed, cupping his cheek with one hand. You brushed his bangs back, traced the shell of his ear. “You look so cute ‘n happy, Gyu.”

“I am happy,” he agreed, smile never wavering. “Thank you, baby.”

You hummed, leaning down to press another kiss to his mouth. Then, with your lips still pressed against his, you couldn’t help but murmur. “Guess we aren’t finished, then.”

His eyes were wide when you pulled back, hands tight against your arms. “Wait -- what do you mean?”

The hand on your cock tightened, and slowly you grinded it in, focusing on his prostate. Mingyu’s body did a full shiver, eyes rolling to the back of his head, nails digging into your skin.

“If you’re able to still feel anything after I fuck you,” you explained, watching as his abdomen tightened in protest of the overstimulation, “then clearly I’m not fucking you well enough.”

#my writing #svthub #svt #seventeen #kim mingyu #kim mingyu x reader #kim mingyu oneshot #kim mingyu smut #kim minngyu fic #svt fic #svt x reader #svt smut #svt oneshot #seventeen x reader #seventeen fic #seventeen oneshot

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catherinnn · 1 year

Text

I'm really sorry.

JJ Maybank x reader (happy ending), Pope Heyward x reader (angst)

JJ wasn't really paying attention when Pope tells him about his new crush, that's why he ends up flirting with her and accidentally starting a relationship with her, until Pope can't believe that JJ is such a bad friend, and he gets a chance to explain himself, would he be able to forgive him?

warnings: mentions of sex, angst, fighting, alcohol consumption, you will want to hug Pope really tight.

words: 3.6 k

“Oh wait, I need another drink!” You said while you stopped dancing for a minute and went to the table where all the drinks were. You decided to go out tonight with your friends to the annual bonfire that was being held at the cut. You grabbed the bottle of vodka, the juice and the ice and started pouring it in your cup, when you noticed someone staring. JJ Maybank, you didn’t really know him much, never really talked to him—well, directly at him, you did talk about him with your friends noticing how cute he is.

“Hi?” You said when he kept watching you.

“Hey sorry, I was just about to offer you a beer” he says.

“Oh no thanks, I’m having vodka”

“You prefer vodka over a beer?” he said in a judgmental tone.

“Well, don’t say it like that! It’s good, I promise”

“”Yeah it’s good, but not as good as beer”

“That’s cause you haven’t tried mine yet”

“Oh, I doubt it, sweetheart”

“Here” you handed him your cup and he grabbed it with a questioning look. He took a sip, then a second one, and a smirk showed up on his face.

“It’s good sweetheart, I’ll have to give you that” You smiled at him. “Now you have to try my beer though”

“What’s the difference between a JJ beer with the regular beer?” you asked playfully.

“Oh, you see, I always pick the best one, it’s like a talent”

“A very impressive one” you joked and took the beer to try it. “Mmh, that’s… really something else” you said sarcastically. Obviously it tasted like all of the others.

“Right? Well, I have a proposal for you, we’ll share that beer and this cup of vodka together and that way you’ll have to stay by my side for the rest of the night” he flirted.

“Oh, do I really have that kind of a privilege?” you joked.

“Well, thanks to your amazing vodka and your pretty face, you earned it by far”

“Ohh, lucky me!” you smirked and accepted his offer.

The night went on with you both drinking, dancing, and flirting a lot. Going from group to group until you got to JJ’s friend group, the pogues. Now, this wouldn’t have to be problem if Pope didn’t tell JJ he had a crush on you a few weeks prior, on another party that you attended too.

“How can I do this faster than Kie, she always wins” JJ complained to Pope while he examined the can of beer so he could figure out how to drink it faster than Kiara when they were playing that game. But Pope’s attention wasn’t entirely on his friend, he was watching you dance and talk with your friends for afar.

“She’s- just gorgeous” he mumbled thanks to all the alcohol he drank tonight. “Have you seen her? Y/n I mean”

JJ didn’t really pay attention to him as he kept thinking on techniques to drink the can faster than his other friend. “Maybe it’s not the can, maybe it’s the swallowing technique”

JJ mumbled to himself but Pope ignored him to keep talking about you. “God, I’ll never have a chance with a girl like her, what am I thinking?”

But JJ did pay attention to that part, he didn’t really know which girl he was talking about, but he knew his friend was probably wrong.

“Dude, no, don’t say that, you do have a shot”

“You think?” Pope asked him while he almost tripped because of how drunk he was.

“Maybe not tonight, but the next party when you’re more sober, you’ll definitely talk to her” JJ said. He didn’t even listen to which girl, but he was sure his friend had a chance, he was very smart and a good-looking guy.

Now back to the bonfire night, JJ’s chance with you night. You having JJ’s arm around your shoulder, sharing drinks, dancing together, flirting shamelessly in front of everyone in this party, in front of all the pogues, in front of Pope, didn’t really give Pope the most comfortable night out with his friends.

He didn’t really say anything, just silently hating and wondering to himself how could JJ do this to him when he had, just weeks prior, told him to shoot his shot with you, that he totally had a chance. Unbelievable.

The rest of the pogues didn’t notice anything, they didn’t know, Pope had just told JJ about his crush on you. They all kept talking and dancing with you two, laughing or rolling eyes at every flirty comment you threw at each other.

“Alright! Just kiss her already” John B joked.

“Dude!” JJ said kind of embarrassed and you laughed.

“You two keep flirting, just kiss, you’re both desperately waiting for it” Sarah said this time. JJ looked at you with a smirk to check on your reaction, when he saw your blushed cheeks and your smile, he knew. Only if he had checked on Pope he would have seen his serious face clearly showing how uncomfortable and sad he felt. But he was busy lowering his face to meet yours and finally kissing you. All of his other friends were busy cheering and watching how cute you two looked together.

The night ended with you and all of the pogues in the Twinkie with John B driving everyone home. You decided to go to the chateau with JJ. You did hesitate at first, not wanting to be “easy” but then you thought of how much you actually wanted to go home with him and how sweet he was with you all night for him to think that low of you.

And after a long night of are you sure?’s and moans between the two of you, and a morning of wearing JJ’s clothes and sharing breakfast, Pope thought he could finally catch a break and start forgetting about you or having to watch his crush with his best friend instead of him. He really thought.

But just like Sarah and Kiara had told you, they’ve never seen JJ so enamoured with someone as he was with you. Giving you his shirts cause “they looked better on you anyway”, cooking with you, cuddling, or even spending the entire pogue’s hangouts either talking about you or texting you. His other friends found this very cute, finally witnessing what JJ is like when he’s whipped—like John B had put it.

But I say that Pope thought he could’ve caught a break is because here he was, a month after the bonfire party, yours and JJ’s party. He was on his way to the chateau to meet his friends and when he got there, he found you and JJ sitting together outside on the couch, just perfect.

“Hey” JJ was the first one to notice him walking in.

“Hi, Pope” you sweetly said. He simply nodded to your direction to at least acknowledge you two and then quickly went inside where the rest of the group was.

“That was weird” JJ stated but didn’t think much about it just yet.

A few minutes later everyone joined you outside. You didn’t notice this, but Pope chose the spot the furthest from you two.

JJ kept noticing how quiet Pope was being, serious face as if he was in a bad mood, and he wanted to cheer him up. So he tried to joke with him, the problem was when Pope didn’t respond, he didn’t even laugh. Thanks to this he started noticing how he would make small talk with Kiara, John B and even with Sarah. Just not with him. As if he was ignoring him for some reason.

“Pope, what’s going on with you today?” JJ started but Pope just shook his head not showing any emotion on his face. “Come on, you can talk to me, this is a safe space” JJ insisted.

“Oh, is it really?” Pope snorted. Everyone else kind of startled with this reaction.

“What? What’s going on man?” JJ asked again.

“I just don’t really think you would be my definition of ‘safe space’ right now, that’s all JJ” Pope answered, still clearly mad and hiding something.

“Why not? What do you mean?” JJ couldn’t understand why he was acting like this.

“You have no idea, do you?” Pope couldn’t believe him right now.

“About what? Dude!”

“Two months ago! I got really drunk at that party we went to and kept telling you how pretty Y/n was!” he exploded and told him the answer, not giving a shit that all of the other pogues and specially you were right there to listen too. It took you by surprise, you had no idea this had happened. JJ seemed to remember that night, the only thing he forgot was who the girl in question was that Pope had talked to him about. “And you told me I should try and talk to her the next time I saw her! But guess who got there first?”

“Pope-“

“No, JJ!”

“Pope, I wasn’t listening! OK?! I didn’t pay attention to who the girl was, I didn’t do it on purpose!”

“Surprisingly, that doesn’t make me feel better! Just- fuck you, dude! Really!” Pope stood up and walked away ready to punch anyone who got in his way.

The group stood in silent for the next few seconds, everyone trying to process everything that had just happened. You could feel the looks of Kie, Sarah and John B going from your face to JJ’s back and forth.

The first one to break the silence was JJ. He turned to look at you and his gaze softened. “I’m sorry” he whispered, not able to believe that he really just did that. You walked to him. “I didn’t fucking know, I wasn’t listening when he told me-“

“It’s ok, J-“

“No, now I’m gonna have to choose between you two, and I don’t want to- I-“

“JJ, it’s gonna be ok, we’re gonna go talk to him and calm him down” Kiara and John B said before going to follow Pope.

“I don’t want to stop seeing you” JJ said to you, tears forming on his eyes and clearly panicking. You went to hug him tight.

“JJ, it’s gonna be fine, you won’t have to stop seeing each other. Remember when Kie made John B choose between me or her? And now we’re still all here-“

“That’s not the same, Sarah. I’m gonna lose both of them” JJ said in a week voice.

“You won’t” you whispered for him to hear. “Let’s just wait for John B to come back, and we’ll see what we do”

A few hours later, John B was back. JJ stood up again from the couch. None of you really said anything until he came back, you just kept hugging JJ and he tried to keep calm.

“So?” JJ asked.

“He’s more calmed now, he still doesn’t want to talk though. Give him time and maybe you can try tomorrow”

“Fuck” JJ complained.

“Did you get to talk to him a little?” Sarah asked this time.

“I don’t think he wants you to choose. It just took him by surprise to still have to see you two together after a month” John B said. JJ didn’t respond, just kept thinking and thinking. “Dude, I think you should get some sleep and we’ll try again tomorrow”

“Yeah, JJ” Sarah joined in.

“O-Ok, yeah. Could you stay over?” JJ turned to ask you. You nodded.

“Of course”

For the rest of the night, JJ was having a really hard time trying to sleep. His mind was re-playing the night when Pope had told him he liked you, and all that he could remember from that talk. He remembered telling him to talk to the girl, he remembered thinking that Pope most probably had a chance with whoever the girl was, it didn’t really matter. Then re-playing the night of the bonfire, when he saw you and thought you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen, talking, flirting, and dancing with you. He remembered when the pogues encouraged him to finally kiss you, and he remembered kissing you, how he felt, how he even did that in front of Pope too. He started feeling like the stupidest person on this planet.

And while everyone else in the chateau were sleeping, even you, sleeping next to him, he had asked you to stay because he thought it could maybe help him get some sleep, he thought that if he spent the night alone in his room, he would only overthink everything so many times and wouldn’t end up sleeping at all. He wasn’t entirely wrong, he did overthink everything that night, but thanks to having you there too, he was able to catch a few hours of sleep eventually.

As the next day comes, JJ keeps fighting the negative thoughts like losing you, or Pope, or even both of you. A few hours into the afternoon, he couldn’t take it anymore, he wanted to give Pope all the time he needed, but he couldn’t concentrate or keep himself distracted anymore, he needed to talk to him.

“Give him some more time, you can’t expect him to get over it in just a day- not even 24 hours!” John B fought JJ and his impulses.

“I can’t just sit here all day and do nothing, I need to show him that I’m sorry, I need him to understand!” JJ explained.

“I know that! But when you’re mad, we give you the time you need to cool off” John B tried to explain but when JJ kept and kept fighting, he just gave up.

“Alright! You really wanna do this?! Okay, just let me come with you so I can mediate if he’s still mad” John B finally said, getting the keys of the Twinkie.

Once they get to Pope’s, they find him working, helping his dad. They don’t say anything as they get out of the van, they just stand there looking straight at him. When Pope turns around and his attention is drown to the people at the door, his expression changes, from his resting face to an annoyed and serious one.

“Of course it’s you two” Heyward, Pope’s dad, begins when he sees them. “Five minutes, you already had your break” he warns his son and lets him get out to talk to them.

“What?” he simply asks.

“I need to talk to you, I need to explain” JJ says.

“Just hear him out, man” John B tries to convince him. Pope only nods giving him permission to speak.

“I just- I’m sorry man, I really am. I did the shittiest thing and I did it to you and I just want you know that it wasn’t on purpose. The night you told me that I was pretty drunk too and just concentrated on some other shit that doesn’t even matter, and I didn’t pay attention to who the girl you were talking about was. I started paying attention when you said the things about not having a chance with her, and it didn’t matter who the girl was, I knew you weren’t going to have a problem with that and I didn’t want you to pull yourself down. That’s why I said you should talk to her the next time” JJ started explaining why he wasn’t paying attention the first time. “And then the next time we saw her, I didn’t know it was her, and I’m really sorry for what I did”

“I understand that” Pope slowly started. “What was actually hard to take was that you never spend more than a night or a week with a girl, or if you do, she doesn’t really spent so much time with us. That’s what made me react that way”

“I know, man, I'm sorry” JJ agreed.

“Listen, I’m not gonna ask you to stop seeing her, or I won’t stop being your friend. Just- just give me more time to get used to the idea of her being with you”

“Yeah, yeah, I just needed you to know… why I did what I did. Just- all the time you need, man”

Pope was about to say something more when his dad called him to get back to work. “I have to go now”

“Yeah, of course. Just- thank you, really” JJ says before leaving with John B again.

A couple of weeks later, you were meeting with the pogues again for a couple of beers and a bonfire among all of you. JJ and you had kept seeing each other throughout these weeks, you haven’t really seen the pogues in some time though, so it was nice to actually get invited again.

What was even nicer, was that Pope was already there too. You and JJ were wondering if the two of you together could ever enjoy the hangouts with the pogues again. Obviously JJ still hangs out with them, they were his friends first, you were the new one. JJ had told you that Pope seemed a lot better lately, he even asked him how things were going between the two of you, and he actually seemed happy when JJ responded that they were going really good.

At first, even though everybody was really happy to see you again, especially Sarah and Kie for having another girl in the group, you were still a little quiet and showing zero PDA with JJ— which wasn’t something usual for the two of you— but you did it so you didn’t make anyone feel uncomfortable. As the night continued, you let loose a little bit more, actually enjoying it a lot more.

Now, as you saw Pope getting up and going inside the chateau to get more beer, you got up too to follow him.

“Hey” you said so he would notice you went with him.

“Oh, hey” he said a little nervous, not really expecting you.

“Um, I just wanted to thank you for being so understandable I guess, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, I just wanted you to know I really appreciate it” you started.

“I’ve honestly never seen JJ so…whipped for someone, I couldn’t be the one fucking it up, it’s pretty funny to watch” he joked and you started laughing.

“Yeah, the guys have been saying that too” you tell him.

"Yeah really, we’ve never seen him so in love, I guess that’s what bothered me at first, cause it had to be with you. But, like I said, I just couldn’t be the reason for him to lose this” he admits.

“You’re such a good friend, Pope, really. All of you really are his family, and I’m happy he’s got all of you”

“He’s got you too, you’re the reason for him to be so happy lately, that makes you part of the family too” You could actually cry right now, his words were so thoughtful. “I was the one who told him to invite you tonight, everybody missed you a lot and I wanted to get to know you too”

“That sound great, I’d really like that” you gave him a smile and hugged him for being so unbelievably nice.

“Princess, what’s taking you so lo- oh hey” JJ came to look for you and was taken aback when he found you two hugging.

“Hey, we were just talking, I was actually welcoming her to the pogue family” Pope explained.

“Yeah, I came to thank him for being so nice and cool with us” you told JJ. He smiled and walked to you, hugging you by your shoulders and pulling you closer. “And he also told me how whipped I've got you” you joked.

“You do” he admitted.

“Never thought I’d see the day were JJ gets so corny” Pope admits. “You need to ask her bro, it’s been long enough” he tells JJ and you don’t really understand what he’s talking about.

“You sure you're okay with it?” JJ asks him and Pope nods smiling. Then he walks back out with everyone else.

“What was that about?” you ask JJ confused.

“I really like you, like really really like you. You’ve got me whipped just like they said. You don’t even know how scared I got of losing what we've got when Pope got mad” he explains, you actually do know the feeling of being scared to lose this, you felt it too. “After I made sure he was okay with us together, I asked him if it would be okay if I asked you to be my girlfriend and he said he wanted me to, so… would you be my girlfriend, please? Cause I really like you and I can’t risk losing you” he asks grabbing you by your waist.

“I really like you too J” you admit with a smile. “Yes, I’d love to be your girlfriend”

The biggest smile appears on both of your faces, he pulls you closer and kisses you, still smiling. You play with his hair, enjoying this moment with all you've got.

After you break the kiss before it becomes more heated— you will have time for that later tonight— he gives you a few more pecks on the lips and hand-by-hand you walk back outside where all the pogues are waiting for you expectantly.

“Guys, I’d like to present you… my girlfriend, new official member of the pogues now too” JJ says with some suspense and they all shout and cheer as if their soccer team just won the world cup or something, real emotion. You can’t stop laughing and smiling, this was your family now.

#jj maybank x fem!reader #jj maybank x reader #jj x reader #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank #jj outer banks #jj obx imagine #pope heyward x reader #pope heyward angst #pope heyward #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks

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innaillus · 11 months

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May I complain for a second? I'm really sorry about this, I try to stay positive and optimistic at all times, and the last thing I want is pull people down with my rants. I'm also aware that many people have more dire problems, not to mention the unspeakable horrors happening in the world right now, so I'm ashamed to feel so frustrated in my privileged, safe life.

I'm terribly sorry for not being able to bring you multiple nicely rendered artworks for Halloween. I feel guilty. I get so much support, so many lovely messages all the time. Then I see a lot of amazing artists doing their best to make people happy with high-quality paintings of many different characters. It feels like I'm failing my followers.

Unfortunately this is all I can do. My day job drains most of my creativity and time, and then I was also keeping up with inktober. There was just no way. Maybe a better, smarter artist could have, but I was unable to do more. And now I'm also very exhausted and I need a break.

I don't know who to talk to. I don't know how to get rid of this feeling, how to do more, how to do better, how to be there everywhere, how to be enough. I don't know, am I looking for validation now? A response? What am I trying to achieve now?

What am I trying to achieve in general?

Somebody please make the days longer. I need to get better.

#rant #idk man #might delete later #psa #existential crisis

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unsentlettersforpalestine · 5 months

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Friday, April 12, 2024

To you, fellow human

What time did you get up? Did you get enough sleep? How was your morning? What did you have for breakfast? You took shower with clean water, didn't you? Did you hear some birds chirping ? The morning breeze was certainly very tranquilizing, wasn't it? You were able to do your morning routine without any hindrance, right? There might be some inconveniences during the day but overall it's been quite a good day, right?

While you are spending your day with your family, relatives, friends, coworkers, clients, neighbors, strangers, or even only by yourself, don't forget to take some time alone to express gratitude. Contemplate about all the blessings God has given to you. Realize that you are living a damn good life. Make no mistake, I am not trying to belittle your problems or the shit you've been dealing with, but trust me when I say: you're lucky. Because you really are.

You might unintentionally come up with some grievances about your life every now and then, but be brutally honest and tell me, on a scale from one to ten, how much you are grateful for your life? Five? Six? Seven? Eight? If your answer is under 5, then I am begging you, please, sit down for a couple of minutes and listen to me.

I know we all have our own problems—both major and minor. But tell me, has someone ever bombed your house? Have you ever felt afraid of being kidnapped or ruthlessly tortured or sexually assaulted or shot at? Have you ever lost a bunch of family members and relatives and neighbors and friends at the same time? Do you, by any chance, know what it feels to experience forced starvation not for a day, not for a week, but for a really long period of time? Have you ever ran out of water, electricity, and fuel for months? The answer for all these questions is a clear no, right?

You are lucky. I am lucky. We are all lucky. Because despite everything, we are living a decent life. We have all that we need (or most of what we need or whatever) and we have never gone through what Palestinians have been going through for more than 75 years. Even the biggest ordeal that we ever went through is nothing compared to what Palestinians are constantly going through.

Some of us might complain about the same/ similar menu we have on a regular basis, don't we ever realize what a luxury it is have enough foor and be able to eat breakfast, lunch and dinner every day? Palestinians are literally being starved to death by Israshit and some of them don't even have a small bag of flour to make simple bread and look at us, here we are shamelessly throwing our foods away. Palestinians feel happiest when they can get a bag of flour and a glass of drinkable water but here, we are constantly grousing over trivial matters—be it intentionally or unintentionally.

It's worth nothing that regardless of what our respective life looks like, we are all privileged. Because unlike Palestinians, we are living a pretty decent life. We are never living under continual brutal occupation. We are not being massacred. We are never going through a fucking genocide. We are safe. We are good, we truly are.

Just a friendly reminder that as a human being, we have a duty to bear witness, be in solidarity and support Palestinians in any shape or form. I am not asking you to ceaselessly watch harrowing pictures and videos coming out of Palestine. I am simply asking you to have some sympathy with them. Do something, anything, to help them. Use the voice that has been bestowed upon by God for you. Spread awareness. Educate yourself and the people around you about Palestinian cause. Go to the nearby protests if you can. Have uncomfortable conversations with both friends and strangers. Don't stop talking about Palestine. Always remember Palestinians in your day-to-day life. And most importantly, keep making prayer for them.

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

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uglynicc · 6 months

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Listen, I avoided this movie for AGES thinking it fit into the Bro Movie Torture P0rn™️ genre which really isn't my thing, but after going down a rabbit hole of video esays and analysis, I decided to watch it.

And I actually loved it. There is SO MUCH commentary about this movie but I enjoyed it enough to dive into my own analysis of it lol, even if it's one that's been done before.

The book does sound like it's a bit too gruesome for me (plus the author's comments about "women can't make movies" definitely rubs me the wrong way), but only going off the movie I am blown away how some toxic trolls out there entirely miss the point and unironically idolize Bateman.

Firstly, I interpreted this as a comedy, a real dark satirical one, and I laughed a LOT.

Second, I do think the murders are in his head. I know there's room for commentary about The Rich And Elite Being Able to Literally Get Away With Murder, but I'm fairly certain someone would, at the very least, complain about a naked man running through an apartment complex with a chainsaw after a screaming woman. All the little hints that a lot of events didn't happen also lead me to think this.

I think he's still a D Bag who abuses sex workers, but that the killing was either a fantasy to give himself a sense of power, control, and greater agency in his life, or that it is a product of untreated and worsening mental state.

Ignoring his potential neurodivergency/mental illness here purely for the fact I think it's a separate interpretation from the one I have, and focusing on the idea that he's getting lost in the dark fantasy world he's constructed, my greatest takeaway from the movie:

Bateman is a loser.

Yes, he's wealthy and attractive, but what does he actually have going for him, even in his shallow little group of elite toxic fuckwads?

For his inflated sense of importance, no one gets his name right or even remembers who he is most times. His fiance doesn't respect or even like him, and he doesn't like her either. He pays women to be part of fantasies where he is awe inspiring, a rich, muscular sex god, and even they are bored and unimpressed, they can't even act like he's worthy of their admiration. His male peers don't think he's anything great either, and how could they when they're constantly wrapped up in meaningless pissing contests. He's so insecure in his masculinity he is close to tears when someone mistakes him as being homosexual. He can't even buy his way into Dorsia, can't use his good looks or cash, the only things he has going for him, to get a dinner reservation at his White Whale restaurant.

He's failing to achieve anything even in his shallow little world, so his Wall Street job (with a business card no one thinks is particularly great), fancy apartment (which he grudgingly admits isn't even as nice or as expensive as his rival's) and chiseled good looks mean nothing. He craves status and recognition, which he fails to achieve.

And yeah, he's a misogynist, racist, classist, homophobic dishrag too, can't forget that.

He's the archetype of toxic, impotent-with-misplaced-rage, insecure yet inflated male ego we see everywhere. If people don't perceive what Bateman feels is his inherent "greatness" or "importance," he lashes out, through mistreatment of those more vulnerable, and/or through dark fantasies which give him that sense of greatness and importance.

It's almost too real, because there are so many real world examples of this kind of privileged dickwad (which makes it even more baffling when these same real world dickwads put Bateman on a weird pedestal thinking he's actually great), but I loved the way the movie examined it. I don't think it's celebrating Bateman or men like him at all, I felt more compelled to laugh at him as a figure of jest, a ridiculous caricature of entitlement and failure. Hell, even his "confession" falls flat, he can't even get that right.

Anyway, just my musings after my first viewing, 20 some years late to the party lol.

#american psycho #american psycho movie #don't come for me #patrick bateman #movie analysis #kitchen sink rambles #long post #also it was super tame compared to movies I've seen recently like Barbarian

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blackgumball · 3 months

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okay weird pull but you know how people say that taylor swift is so popular because her work is so bland. she’s uninterested in making any sort of statement or breaking any sort of mould, so her work is so palatable and widely relatable that it becomes so popular among so many people? (real quick psa im a tswift hater so i dont listen to her music, this is a recycled opinion from a more educated hater than me)

i am beginning to feel a similar way about bridgerton. its premise relies on the idea of a diverse regency england, but it becomes clearer and clearer to me every day that the show is meant for white people. all the bridgertons are white, so every love story will either be swirl or just a white relationship (shoutout to polin ig). not saying that poc dont enjoy the show (we obviously do) but there’s this vocal white audience that keeps harassing actors of colour whenever a decision is made that they dont like. or that strays from the books (which is soooo insane literally the moment they cast rege jean page your dumb cracker asses shouldve realised that the show wasnt gonna care about being book accurate ESPECIALLY since julia quinn basically said out loud that every character in her books would be racist.)

and the show Clearly isn’t interested in pushing any boundaries. look at fucking cressida cowper. given, i have no idea whether her character is going to return to the show, but the way they handled her was so muddled and fucked up that i wondered why they even bothered? they bring her in, humanise her, and then cart her off with this terrible fate. why? if anything, it made eloise and colin far less likeable (eloise, because it seemed like she didnt care about the fate of the only person who treated her with respect after she was “ruined”, and colin, because it made him seem shortsighted, naïve, self centred, and pitifully stupid). i complain because i think eloise is right. the women in this period were stifled. they were not able to study as extensively as their brothers, not able to travel by themselves, kept from sex education into their adulthood, and married off to random men (sometimes against their will, as it was for danbury, charlotte, almost cressida, and arguably daphne). you set such a sexual show in a deeply unsexy time. there’s romance in cressida escaping, being cunning and able to run. it also would’ve made the show more DRAMATIC. it straight up doesnt make sense for cressida to learn whistledown’s identity and not go immediately to the queen. why not have her escape, and let the bridgertons deal with the consequences? i don’t know. they seemed to take the stupid way out.

and then there’s the lower classes, who we rarely see outside of the women bridgerton men fuck with no/low commitment, paperboys, and printers. i’ve said before how i think it’s hideous that the lives of these women aren’t explored outside of their role as sex objects. season one at least explored the tension between anthony and sienna, who he loved but couldn’t commit to (im very glad she got out of there. im glad she respected herself enough to cut ties w him). also in season one, we see how the servants of the bridgerton house played a role in saving daphne from marrying that gross dude, but it feels like that role has vanished from subsequent seasons. maybe they know that seeing how none of the lords and ladies and other rich pricks of mayfair can’t fend for themselves is a turn off for the modern person (remember when anthony and daphne couldn’t use a stove in s1? i got the ick bad). but by ignoring this massive demographic, the show proves its disinterest in exploring the pitfalls and prejudices of the society it is set in.

its a show where women who want to escape their circumstances are villainised for their attempts and where the lives of the poor are either ignored or used to threaten the privileged. you occasionally have a sienna or a theo, but through knowing them, we are never left with the sense that society should change. they may try that next season. i know benedict is supposed to fall in love with A Poor.

i want the show to be good. i want the show to be interesting. i want all the fans who think that it can’t be good unless it’s explicitly relatable to straight white women to get over themselves (or at least go back to tswift and tsitp). i want to watch the show and not feel as though all the female characters are trapped. i want to LIKE ELOISE. some things i dislike about the show are impossible to change, but i guess i just have to hope it can be better. actually start pushing against the constraints of the genre, why not? you’re already one of the most popular shows on TV, you can risk making good television.

#she speaks #hater tag #bridgerton #i say this all as a fan!#i unfortunately cannot pretend as though i don’t like this show. it’s clear by now that i do

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musicfeedsmysoul12 · 1 year

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where's the rant ???

Alright so rant time: people constantly argue that making a character a transwoman is the same as making them a ciswoman and frankly that’s wrong. I’m sorry but it is. As a small disclaimer: I’m nonbinary and I am in school getting a sociology degree. I will be using sex to refer to biology and gender to refer to otherwise.

Using Tim Drake as an example: the stories you tell with a transgirl or a cisgirl version are incredibly different from each other. Because men and women are socialized drastically different from one another. While the character of Tim Drake (fierce, loyal, hard working, generous, and wanting to do so much good) wouldn’t change so much else about Tim would in either option.

With a transgirl Tim Drake, you have how society would react to her and coming out. I’d also argue that she wouldn’t come out until her teen years because of Jack. No one can tell me that this man would be okay with his kid being a transgirl. You just can’t tell me that. Janet is a toss up because of the limited information we have on her as a character. She however did neglect her kid, and in general I think that as new or old money, whichever you want to use, she would have problems with image, considering that a trans child could go bad for the PR. But even ignoring the parents, a transgirl!Tim would have a totally different story. I expect her story woudl go much like canon for a while until she is able to articulate that she is a girl. Then I expect backlash from people, one of them being Stephanie.

I’m probably in the minority when it comes to my thoughts that Steph is a straight woman who would react to her partner coming out as a woman badly because ‘what does that say about ME?!’ I won’t go into my issues with Steph. Others have done it way better but I do think that she and Tim both messed up their relationship even if frankly most of the blame is on Steph’s feet. BUT ANYWAYS: Tim coming out would cause issues there. A harsh reaction is never great for a baby trans kid and I can see Tim retreating as Steph goes off to complain to someone like Babs. Who I then think would be upset with Steph for outing Tim. Baba then acts as a pillar for Tim who slowly can come out on her own terms. Bruce and Dick I don’t think would have an issue and Jason? Let’s be real: Jason wouldn’t give a fuck in the sense it’s “okay wait, girl? Okay… I’ll still beat the shit out of you”.

The media would pitch a fit and I think that YJ would become closer over this, but I also think that there will be backlash from other members of the cape community. There just isn’t a way there wouldn’t be because while sure a lot are accepting you can’t tell me everyone is. Also the rouges. Unless Bruce asks Tim to pretend to be a guy still which… OUCH. I feel that is on brand and also something Tim would struggle so much with but want to obey while everyone is yelling at Bruce.

Then a transitioning Tim when her father wakes up probably wouldn’t go back to him because I doubt his reaction is a good one, and so she stays with Bruce. Probably becoming adopted. She and Cass would bond and I can see Tim developing further and becoming more confident as time goes on. She is less confident as Robin as she is not allowed to be herself.

The Damian and I’m torn. On one hand: I kind of like the idea that the League are all assholes but they also are chill with queer people cause Ra’s is creepy with canon Tim. In the other this is something he can attack Tim over and I doubt he’d give up the chance the little psycho.

So… Damian would be a thorn but I think that Dick steps in way more here because ‘baby assassin trying to kill Tim since he doesn’t know better’ is very different then ‘a transphobic kid being a shit to Tim’. Sad but true.

Tim’s story drastically changes by being a transgirl and it’s one that is VASTLY different then being a ciswoman because Tim still was socialized as a boy from birth. There is still a level of privilege she got from birth that a ciswoman doesn’t. People would react to her being trans in multiple ways such as denial or disgust.

But a cisgirl!Tim? Well…

People expect different things from the sexes. Women are supposed to be soft, gentle, not to loud and are supposed to be kind. Boys get to be demanding and loud and smart and rough.

Tim as a girl would have Jack and Janet reacting differently. It’s a personal headcanon for me that Jack imposes a lot of his traits onto Tim as a boy because ‘it’s my son and he is thus like me’. A girl though he’d expect to be a ‘cute and soft girl who is there for me to pull out of the closest’ because frankly the guy who willing marries someone not even a decade older then his kid who uses to be his physical therapist is a LOSER who would. Janet is again a toss up but I feel she’d have more of an impact for this Tim as being a woman in buisness or archeology is a field she had to climb and claw her way through. Things she would then pass on to her daughter.

Women are expected to be feminine and gentle. I’m actually fond of a girly fem!Tim compared to others, but I think it’s more of a punk girly then not. Janet totally would have weaponized her femininity in a way Tim tries to mimic. Dresses, soft smiles, doe eyes but a sharp mind about to rip you apart. Her interests in photography would be dismissed as ‘artsy girl’ and she’d be put into ballet or gymnastics with some comments over martial arts.

Women will have people talk about them if they do anything out of the ordinary. They aren’t supposed to ride skateboards or things because that’s what boys are expected to do. They aren’t supposed to like climbing things or other shit.

Tim as someone born a girl, and as either new money or old money, would be expected to have certain traits a boy is allowed to not have. So without a doubt she had etiquette lessons and dance lessons and anything else her mother might have decided were useful because Jack wouldn’t have noticed anything. Even if it’s cause Janet got mocked by people for not knowing I can’t see Tim not having these lessons.

Tim who has a great mask and who keeps her lives seperate this would have her high society mask, her vigilante mask, her public self and her real self because girls are still expected to act a certain way in public. Any interest that deviates form what society expects is brushed off as ‘she’s trying to be unique’ or ‘tomboy’ or ‘fitting in with the boys’.

We finally get to Robin now because Tim is still Tim and I don’t doubt she would do the same thing, fight to become Robin, but with this comes it’s own problems. Threats of sexual assault, comments about being a girl, crude comments about opening her legs or how she fights: all of these would follow her. We can go: some rouges are nice all we want but not all of them are.

Then we have Stephanie and that relationship is already drastically changed because Stephanie again is straight, and I think that Tim would be able to connect to Steph much better as a girl. I still think it wouldn’t be the healthiest of friendships because of everything but I also think that Tim being a girl while having hard lines is very different from a boy with boundaries because Steph knows as a girl what it’s like to have boundaries. She would feel bad for breaking them compared to ‘Tim is upset I found out his identity boohoo why is he upset with me?’.

We have Dick to and I’m going to be real honest: I think Dick is sexist enough to make assumptions of Tim. He doesn’t have issues with women but in general he’s a bit of a douche bag (sleeping with Babs while inviting her to his wedding with Kori anyone?) that he would put some expectations on this Tim related to being a girl. Of course Tim tosses those out of the water and I think he’d adapt but still: Dick is just… I think he’s the guy who puts a lot of stock into blood relations more then we know (ala Damian) and that he’s got a few assumptions about the Robin title along with thoughts on girls.

Bruce is… I think his expectations would be similar to canon with an emphasis on her being a girl. He knows competent women but in his world most of the female heroes are super powered or criminals, with Barbara being a shining example of a non-powered hero who got hurt. He’s going to compare it. I think it would either be worse then canon or he’s going to shove her off on female heroes more because he isn’t sure how to handle her.

Barbara as well I think is closer then canon to Tim being a girl and sort of the Batfam early compared to Stephanie. I actually think Babs would be a lot more posessive of Tim because of this, but this miiiight just be me. I know Tim and Cass would be incredibly close as well much like canon.

Jason and Damian though? Okay so I’ll be blunt: Jason is the kind of guy who is a feminist and supports woman’s rights but has a few issues with women he’s never been able to articulate. Society would press on him women are supposed to be fantastic mothers who put their families first and then he gets Sheila and Catherine. And while Catherine may have loved him society says she’s a terrible mother. Then we have Talia and no matter what the ‘sleeping together’ thing is fucked up. It just IS. So Jason has issues. However I think said issues being thrown into his face would make him stop short. Yet his reaction to a girl taking the mantle is one that would be… tricky as hell.

Damian? Damian is sexist and could go one of four ways: a) canon, b) WORSE then canon, c) dismissive and arrogant assuming she is just there to be trained and would be shoved out of the role as soon as he’s there no need to fight which turns into canon reaction when she isn’t or d) an assumption she’s there as a bride for someone. Because frankly it is something I can see him assuming. Bruce training a girl much like how Dick/Jason was trained so eventually they would marry to be solid heirs. The LoA is messed up and Talia might be a woman but she was raised there so there’s probably a ‘exception to the rule’ mentality with her. And I can see Damian either then: deciding he would be Tim’s groom as the true heir to the Bat or he would go: well time to marry her off now.

Either works. He’d still be violent and cruel towards her but that’s just Damian in general until he mellows out.

I think losing Robin in this world would be much more of a blow for Tim because of the sexism she’s faced. Being the lesser Robin for being a girl, how people reacted to her being feminine, seeing how Dick so easily tosses her aside for a male child. How people probably would go: yes! A good Robin finally! Or how his more violent reaction probably gets praised over her. Mixed in with the dismissal of Bruce being alive which feels worse as women are always getting dismissed by people and Tim lashes out harder then in canon.

We then come back to Babs because there’s only two ways she can react: canon or she goes ‘I’ll listen for real as I know the guys suck at listening to the girls’ and making her decisions that way. (And let’s be real Babs would know. Give me more female solidarity in comics and not the weird catty crap we get otherwise)

We then have canon happen with Ra’s being just as creepy mixed with a lot more sexism on her world tour.

One thing I do think would happen like canon is Tim realizing she’s bisexual when Fem!Bernard comes along and gets her thinking about it because girls are allowed to be touchy with each other so her not knowing is twice as likely.

These stories are VASTLY different from one another and the assumption that they wouldn’t be is insulting. Yes, transwomen are women but there’s still a huge difference in a story about either of them. Both these stories have very different thoughts and reactions from characters.

Just pretending that they’re one in the same is wrong. And pretending there’s a moral high ground when you claim they are is just being a dick.

#Batman #tim Drake #red Robin #transgirl tim #female tim Drake #fem tim Drake #Dc Comics

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