#i front in a trans masc body

[damidomien]

This is your reminder that not every trans man is a bottom/sub just because they have a pussy.

[rebellum]

"We should respect trans mascs and butches because they protect us at pride"

So I get what you're doing with trying to argue against the anti-masculinity crowd and trying to say that trans mascs and butches are an important part of pride as a way to emphasize our place in the community

But...

Why us?

Why are we disposable? Why are we not worthy of protection?

When are you going to protect us, too?

[nyahkmenrah]

Ahkemenrah hates transphobes. Source? Me I am Ahkemnrah and I hate transphobes.

[monstersflashlight]

Commission for @b-side-vinyl

A/N: Thank you so much for the commission! This was very interesting to write, a very fun concept. For everyone else, this is filthy, 5k of pure filth. Enjoy!

Request: Essentially I’d like the plot to be with a trans masc human character sort of stuck in these monster infested woods. To get out of it, he travels this path and sleeps with a few (1-3 varieties) monsters and essentially gets bred by them (no actual pregnancy just fucked real good. You can do eggs if you want). I’d like for there to be some knotting if possible, if not that’s fine. The main thing I want to happen is this dude getting fisted by the pale man from pans labyrinth. Literally just do what you want with the rest. If there are more creatures that is. And I’d like for the character to be enjoying himself with this, I don’t want any serious dub con.

Quest to ecstasy

Monsters (werewolf, gator-monster, pale man) x transmasc!reader || dom/sub (light), oral sex, knotting, breeding, oviposition, fisting, dirty talk (kinda)

When the fortune teller said you had to complete a quest if you wanted to be fully yourself, you didn’t believe them. But after what felt like an eternity in search of something missing, something inside of you that didn’t feel quite right… You started to comprehend it wasn’t just a riddle.

You really needed to complete some kind of quest for you to feel completely settled into your body.

That’s how you found yourself back into the forest. Back into that deep, dark place where the witch lived. You had packed for a few days, not knowing what exactly you were signing yourself to, but ready to find whatever it was out there for you.

What awaited for you wasn’t the witch, though. When you set a foot inside the tree line, a weird orange creature appeared from thin air. Their looks were so weird you screamed, falling back and tripping. You ended up with your ass on the ground and a single tear running down your cheek. The creature looked at you with their head tilted, clearly confused.

“You came to my realm in search of something… Why?” The creature in front of you was looking more and more weird which each second, and it was messing with your brain. They awoke the uncanny valley inside of your brain and made you shiver.

“I- I want to complete the quest.”

“You do? Interesting.” With each movement it made you cringe a bit more, trying to disappear to not be scrutinized by them. “I wasn’t expecting you until a couple more years… Guess you are an early case. Okay human…”

You hesitated before asking: “Will you… Will you tell me what I have to do? What I’m looking for?” They approached you, and you stepped back, scared that they were going to attack you or something.

“Fear not, human. I will not hurt you. You just need to pay close attention to your quest.” You nodded, the fear not really leaving your body, too tense to even talk. They approached you and touched your forehead. A warm feeling filled your body as they said: “You need to reach deep within you, deep within the woods, only then you’ll find the answer to your need.”

“Can you be more precise?” You were confused, that didn’t mean absolutely nothing to you. You needed answers, not more riddles.

“No. You’ll find out on your own. Good luck.” And they disappeared. They disappeared and left you there, confused and with a dark forest before you.

Before you could hesitate and back down, you stepped into the forest.

You walked for what felt like hours, until you could barely see anything and your feet hurt. You sat on a rock, gulping down some water and panting, your body sore.

A voice behind you made you jump. “What do we have here? A handsome human…” You looked at him and stared. He was furry. Tall and muscular and… like a werewolf. There was a fucking werewolf in front of you, and he was so hot you felt like melting right there. “Are you lost?” He asked. You shook your head, unable to talk. “What are you looking for then, boy?”

You breathed hard, trying to get your rabbit-fast heart under control. He made you nervous and excited all at once, something inside of you jumping in joy. “I- I’m here to complete a quest,” you muttered. You weren’t expecting to find anyone so early, but you knew without a doubt that he was the one you were looking for. The first part of your quest.

He grunted in acknowledgment and asked: “What kind of quest?” He sat down in front of you.

You looked at him, eye to eye now that he was on the ground. “I have no idea. They- the creature didn’t tell me.” You felt stupid, but he was so hot your brain couldn’t process long sentences anymore.

He smelled the air, ignoring your words and instead saying: “You smell delicious, like a fresh pie.” He approached you on hands and knees until he was right before you, his snout close to your legs. “What is that smell… Is that your desire human, do you desire me?” He parted your legs without preamble and smelled your already dripping cunt under your pants. Fuck, why was that so hot?

“I- I- Maybe…” You told him, it sounded more like a question that an affirmation and he chuckled. You were confused by this development. You didn’t know what to tell him, you only knew you felt your cunt dripping and desire pooling lower. You wanted to grab his head and make him do it again, but embarrassment stopped you.

He looked up at you, his eyes so big and with a hint of danger behind them… That made you whimper. “Maybe?” He asked again, smelling the air once again and grunting in pleasure.

You took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah. Yes. I do,” you confessed. Your face was burning, but your desire was burning higher than the embarrassment. The heat inside of you was almost unbearable, you needed something. You needed him to do something to you. And if he didn’t… You didn’t know what would happen, but you knew it wouldn’t be good.

“Do you want us to fuck?” He asked, looking at you almost hopeful.

“I- I don’t know.” You did know, but the embarrassment and self-consciousness got the best of you once again. You cursed yourself in your brain over and over.

He looked at you disapprovingly. “You need to say what you want, boy. I don’t read minds… But I can smell your desire, you are ready like a ripe fruit. You want this, don’t you?” His words made you hotter, juices soaking your undergarments. Fuck, you didn’t remember being this ready like… ever.

“Ye- yes.” That answer left you without thinking about it, but it felt like something inside of you released. Something left your body and ascended, and you felt lighter.

He looked up at your face again, something hot and dark dancing behind his eyes. “Tell me what do you want me to do to you, then. Be specific.” You breathed hard, your heart accelerating once again.

You tried to filter your thoughts, too fast and too messy to get anything across. But then you just knew what you wanted, something inside of you telling exactly what you had to say, “I- I want you to eat me out. I want you to make me come with your mouth.” You felt your body burning as he started lowering your pants, exposing your undergarments to his prying eyes. He licked his lips when he saw the wet patch there.

“Yes… Good boy.” You felt your face flush at his words. He took your undergarments off, too, slowly lowering them until they were neatly stacked over your pants.

He planted his hands on your inner thighs, breathing hard against your center, but not touching you just yet. “What else?” He urged, his hands tightening. You were sure that was going to leave bruises. Fuck, that thought was so hot.

You kept going, your words getting stuck in your throat, but you pushed through. “I- I want your mouth over my hole. Over my holes…” You never had asked anybody to rim you before, and now it just… felt right. “I want you to eat all of me, to take me over the edge over and over.” You told him. With each word, your body felt lighter and your cunt wetter. His tongue traced patterns over your your hip and making you shiver.

“Keep going…” His mouth was dangerously close to where you needed him most, but he didn’t touch you.

Then you breathed out, “I want your tongue inside me, I want your claws holding my hips down so you can stop my frantic motions.” That confession was a bit too much for your frantic brain, but you got it out without an itch, a special part inside of you telling you it was okay. He would understand, he would deliver. “And then I want you to fuck me, to breed me.”

He smirked up at you, his fangs glistening. The image was enough to make you whimper. “Yes, yes. I can do that.” And then he launched.

The first contact of his tongue against your cunt made you shiver. His claws were right over your hips, holding your body down as he made out with your hole until you were dripping. But he didn’t stop there, he kept going down, licking over your asshole and making your eyes roll back into your head. You had never felt such a good tongue, such a good mouth. Every experience you had before him paled in comparison to his abandon.

He ate you out, sucking, licking, going up and down… His tongue and lips seemed to be everywhere at once, and you were struggling under him, trying to get him closer, trying to make him move. Your hands found his head and you pulled at his hair, making him grunt and attack your pussy with fervor. You did it again and he growled, so you did it again. It became a game, you pulled at his hair and he sucked on your most sensitive parts. It was the best oral you’d ever gotten, and he was enjoying himself even more than you if the sounds he was making were any indication.

“Such good holes, so beautiful, so soft and wet for me.” His words against your skin felt like thunder before a storm, and when he drove right in, your body exploded. You came around his mouth and soaked most of his face, he complimented you over and over as you came down. He looked at you with the biggest smirk on his face as you recovered. “You want more?”

You were about to say you couldn’t when he stood up and drove his dick right into you. His dick was so big, but you were so wet from his previous assault to your hole. He fucked you hard and fast, with abandon. You came once, twice, three more times.

“Are you ready to take my knot?” You nodded, lost in pleasure.

You felt his knot at your entrance as he pushed inside one more time, stretching you to the point of distress but the pleasure overtook it. You struggled under him as his knot filled you to the brim. He came, and came, and came… He bred you until you felt so full you felt like exploding, just to grind his hips against you and made you come again.

By the time he was done, your hole was gaping and his cum was leaking out of you. His smug smile was so big he looked like a madman. You wanted to smack him, but also wanted to kiss him senseless until he couldn’t smile anymore. So you did just that. You made out for a few minutes as your heat regained its normal pace and he slowly cleaned you out with some warm cloth you didn’t know where he got from.

His dreamy look made you blush as he said, “you did great, boy. The next part won’t be so easy on you.” A spark of anxiety bloomed inside of you, but his hand caressed your cheek softly as you relaxed once again. “You have to go to the river and find the one whose eggs they crave.” His words were weird but you nodded, already assuming he wasn’t going to tell you anything else.

Your cunt was a bit sore as you walked. The directions the werewolf gave you too imprecise to know where you were really headed to. But you kept walking. If the first part of the quest was finished and you found it on your own, you trusted the universe to point you in the right direction.

After a couple hours, you found the river. You walked alongside it, expecting whatever part of the quest to appear before you or at least some kind of signal. And it definitely did.

A big scaled monster was exiting the water like an alligator. He was walking on two feet, but his arms and legs were covered in scales. His face was elongated, pointy fangs on each side of his mouth. He looked dangerous and scary, but the second he saw you, he cheerfully said: “Hi there! Are you the human the witch sent?” He sounded hopeful and excited to see you, and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling at him.

“She- She told you?” You asked. You haven’t talked to the witch at all, but if you got here, you guessed he was right, she sent you to him.

He nodded, his elongated face bobbing up and down and making him look adorable as he smiled. “She said she would help my family, and then I see you next to my river… So I guessed.” That made sense, but how would you help if you didn’t even know why you were there?

“What do you mean she would help your family, how would I do that?” You questioned, as confused as him.

He nodded, looking you up and down and saying: “You’ll be the recipient.”

“Recipient? For what?” You tried not to sound too panicked, but probably failed.

“My family…” He cleared his throat, a raspy sound exiting his mouth as his voice broke. “My family needs money, and our eggs sell for a better price if they touch a human first.” He said it was if that meant something to you, which it didn’t. You were as confused as earlier.

“What does that mean?” You asked again.

He hesitated for a few seconds before answering you, “I- I need you to take my eggs and then lay them for me.” Eggs? How would you do that? Was he supposed to get the eggs inside of you? That… That made sense. His hopeful smile was enough to convince you it was the right thing to do.

But an idea crossed your mind, “Will it hurt?” You were okay with oviposition, but pain wasn’t really your thing.

He smiled, already knowing you’d say yes. “No, human. It won’t. They say it’s quite pleasurable, actually.” His smirk made your insides turn and heat pooled in your lower abdomen.

“Okay… Okay. I’ll do it.” You agreed.

Before you could realize, you were naked and he was over you, his claws pinching your nipples and telling you how pretty you were, how handsome and how good you’d look with his eggs inside of you. You shivered, his words making you hot and bothered, your cunt already dripping.

You felt his dick against your hole before he started to press inside, he wasn’t as big as the werewolf, but the texture of his dick was doing marvels to your insides. It was like the best toy you’d ever tried, maybe even better. He started slow, asking how you were, how you liked it. With each pump of his hips, his scales rubbed perfectly against your sensitive parts, making you cry out. You were drunk on pleasure already, his ridges massaging your G-spot with every thrust.

He gained speed, fucking in and out of you like a madman and growling at each thrust. And then he came for the first time, and something stretched you. There was something going up his dick and inside of you. The sensation was another level of weird, but it felt incredibly inside of you. So good that you screamed and came around him. That threw him off, coming again and filling you with another egg.

You felt big, your stomach distended as they pushed deep inside of you one last time. You didn’t know how many orgasms he had, how many you had… You didn’t know how many eggs he laid inside of you… but it was so good.

You came again at the same time you heard him say, “good job, human… You got them all.” He pulled out of your gaping hole and smiled down at you, helping you accommodate against his chest.

His words confused you, but the pleasure was so great you had to take two deep breaths before answering. “Wha- what?”

He chuckled, like you were a silly goose for asking that. Your brain still was fuzzy with pleasure. “Now we wait.” He hugged you closely.

You pushed his chest. “What?! What do you mean we wait? You didn’t say we had to wait!” You looked down and saw it, your stomach distended, not too big, but definitely something was inside there.

“The eggs will be ready soon, then you have to push them out and they’ll be ready.” His voice was even and controlled, his smile so big you couldn’t be mad at him for not telling you it won’t be an immediate process. Fuck, it would be easier if he wasn’t cute.

So you waited. He feed you some fish he caught, and covered you with a blanket as you felt the eggs move and twist inside of you. It was so weird, but not bad.

You felt a big pinch in your lower back, not painful, but weird. And then something slimy ran down your leg. “I think- I think they are ready,” you told him, panic settling on you momentarily. You took your blanket away and looked between your legs. And so did he.

You pushed down, trying to get them out as soon as possible. You were expecting more weirdness, but definitely you weren’t expecting the blinding pleasure that filled you when the first egg left your body. You felt it all the way down, slowly, pressing and stretching you from the inside out. You screamed as an orgasm ran through you. And then another as the second egg descended.

You came one time for each egg he laid, about ten. It was exhilarating and left your body feeling like a rag. So tired and so exhausted after so much pleasure… It was like your body didn’t respond to your commands, but it was such a great feeling you couldn’t be mad about it.

The gator-monster was looking at you with adoration in his eyes as he took all the eggs you just pushed out of your cunt. He kept saying “thank you, thank you, thank you…” as he carefully packed them into what looked like a basket.

He took a warm cloth and cleaned your hole carefully, applying some kind of balm that made you sigh with relief, the soreness instantly fading. “I could never thank you enough human… But for now, I can point you to the final part of your quest.” You nodded, grateful. “You have to cross the river and find the cave with the door.” You took mental note of his words. River. Cave with a door. “You got it?” He asked.

You stood up, pulling your pants up with you, covering yourself. “Yes. Yeah, I got it.” You took your bag and stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to say to him.

“I wish you the best, human.” His voice was truthful, and you smiled at him, after so many orgasms he felt like an old-friend more than a stranger.

“I hope those eggs sell for a good price.” You chuckled as you said it, completely confused about what all that was about but happy you could give him something.

“They will!” His grin was so big you wanted to laugh about how goofy he looked. His voice became soft again, “good luck, human.”

“Thanks,” you muttered, feeling a bit sad about leaving him, but ready to see what the quest still had for you.

He saw you leave with still unsteady legs, excited and thankful for what just happened. It was nothing like you expected, but it was rewarding in a way you had never felt before. You gave him something he needed, and it felt good. It felt great.

You walked away from him and crossed the river, a new energy in each step. You were tired and sore, but felt so content you couldn’t express it in words. You smiled at the little animals that crossed your path as you walked, life felt good in that moment. And you were so close…

You saw the big cave with the door, just as the gator predicted. You walked to it and found the door already open, a weird creature moving around. You stood there, mesmerized.

The creature in front of you was nothing sort of human, he looked alien-like, otherworldly. You were completely mesmerized by his movements and the way his body undulated as he moved. There was something about him that made your insides turn and twist. The things the witch said were true, you would know when you fount the final part of your quest. You know it was him.

He turned around and you had to swallow a scream. The creature had no eyes, just a pale empty face that twisted to the side when he realized you were there.

And then he raised his hands and you saw his eyes right there, in the middle of his palms. Nothing could have prevented you to scream then, not even a gag. You screamed at the top of your lungs, and he looked at you more intently, moving his fingers and making your panic raise, but also something else, something deeper.

Your insides twisted and turned and you could feel your hole getting wet once again. Everyone could have guessed it was too much, too difficult for you to get aroused again… But the mix of fear and arousal was once again making your undergarments sticky.

You got your breathing under control as he said: “You are here for a reason.” His curiosity for you was clear in his body, moving closer to you until his tall figure was so close you could feel his body heat. He smelled like pines and forest, but also like freedom, like the key to your freedom. “Are you ready for your final quest?” His question sounded ominous and you didn’t know if you were, but you were more than ready to find out, your cunt twitching in anticipation.

You looked at his eyes, still in front of his head, and told him stuttering: “Ye- yes.” He nodded and pointed to a mattress on the side of the room.

“Hand and knees, facing the wall…” You complied, a shiver of anticipation running down your spine as you felt his pointy fingers caressing the back of your thighs. “Such a pretty hole… So ready for me. Did they fuck you, human? Did the others had their fun with you?” You nodded, shy all of sudden. The idea that he could still see the evidence of the other two monster’s inside of you made you embarrassed, but also excited. You moaned, trying to hide your face in the pelt under you. “None of that, human. Face up, I want to hear every single noise you make.” You rose your head and looked at the wall, not knowing what he was going to do to you was exhilarating.

The first contact of his finger against your cunt made you shiver and push your ass back, trying to get him inside instantly. He growled and pinched your ass, making you scream, startled. “Ouch!”

“Behave. You had no control here, human.” You lowered your head, your face burning red with embarrassment.

He started a slow finger fucking, way too little. You needed more, you wanted more. But he already told you, you had no control over what happened, over what he did. You were there to complete your quest and he would do what he pleased, what it needed to be done. And apparently that was finger fuck you at such a slow pace that was making you crazy and desperate, even more needy.

You tried to push back again, and were rewarded with another pinch. Fuck. “You need to learn patience,” he told you. But he added another finger, and you sighed happily. Yes. Yes. More was good, more was great.

The gator-monster had already stretched you enough, you knew you could take a lot more than two of his fingers, but he didn’t fuck you harder nor faster. He took his time with you. He started slow, one finger in and out of your used hole. You moaned and groaned, asking for more. Pleading for more. He didn’t comply, he kept teasing your pleasure points with his long fingers until you were sweating and your legs were trembling under you, barely supporting your weight.

When your arms gave out and you face planted to the mattress, only then he added a second finger. He continued that slow torture that was making you drool and lose your mind second by second. You cried out when he pressed against your G-spot and started massaging it. It was amazing and the worst torture at the same time.

“Please, please, please…” You kept chanting, but he didn’t listen.

“Patience, human.” His completely calm voice annoyed you, but the annoyance was soon replaced by a new wave of pleasure as he added a third finger. You couldn’t even imagine how did it look for him, his eye so close to your center.

In and out, in and out. He pushed another finger inside. The fourth was already a stretch, at least the same size of the werewolf dick, but with so much more range of movement. He scissored them inside, opening you up, tickling your insides, reaching parts of you didn’t know existed. Your pleasure was so high you couldn’t stop screaming, a chorus of ah ah ah leaving your mouth at every movement of his fingers inside of you.

And then you felt his fifth finger slipping inside, the stretch so awesome you felt a gush of juices dripping out of your hole. He grunted and asked you to breathe, but it was almost impossible with the assault to your senses.

When he pushed in his knuckles, and then his whole fist, you screamed, coming around his hand and making him groan behind you. His knuckles were pressing against your G-spot so hard you felt like you could implode into a million pieces. It was the highest you’d ever gotten to the sky. It felt too much and nothing at all, it felt like the universe was at arms reach but you couldn’t move to touch it.

“You are doing amazing, human. Come for me again.” You wanted to tell him it was too much, but your body had a mind of their own and it complied. You came again. He was fucking you with his whole fist, half of his forearm inside of you at some point. Your brain was completely off-line. “Again,” he ordered. And you were unable to stop the next orgasm.

You felt stretched to the extreme, so much and so good you couldn’t stop moving your ass back, meeting his thrusts. You were acting nothing like yourself, or at least the self you were before the quest. Maybe this was the discovery. Maybe you needed to understand yourself better, to realize you needed more, needed so much more… And he gave it to you. He gave everything to you.

He fisted you for what felt like hours, making you come over and over until you were begging for him to stop. He didn’t. He kept going until you were a mess and the pleasure and pain were one big sensation inside of you. At some point it became too much and you fainted. You woke up with him still going at it, your cunt still stretched around his hand and your pleasure too high for you to come again. You didn’t think you could come again anytime soon.

But he proved you wrong.

He made you come at least three more times before your brain faded into darkness again, something inside of you breaking down. You felt it. You felt that something opening and leaving your body as a feeling of completely elation filled you.

Ecstasy.

And then darkness.

When you woke up, he was already there, looking at you with his weird hand-eyes. “You are ready to leave, human… I’ll walk you to the clearing.” He had already cleaned you and re-dressed you, all your stuff piled next to your bag. You packed everything rapidly, not wanting to make him wait for you.

He accompanied you to the entrance of the forest, right where you began your journey and waved his weird hands at you as he returned to the forest. You felt revitalized. Not a single sore muscle in you. You stood there for a long time, the sun rising behind you and setting shadows around you. The world felt different around you, brighter.

You learned to take your pleasure. You learned to give to others. And you learned to let go of your inhibitions. Maybe the witch was right, maybe the creature, too… You needed the quest, you needed to go through all that to realize you weren’t some kind of weird person for expressing your needs, for taking them into your own or for making it so others could meet them. You… You felt full of life.

For the first time ever you felt complete and okay in your own skin.

Remember you can also commission me, all info here.

[procyonloser]

Mini fic, adamsapple, trans masc Adam, vampire Lucifer, dubcon

Adam stumbled down the street, drunk, tired, angry, drunk, furious, did he say drunk already? His girlfriend had dumped him, again, but this time he was pretty sure it was going to stick since she was fucking pregnant, and Adam didn't have a fucking dick. He didn't wish her well, in fact he wished her worse, before he left to get fucking trashed. Had he said fuck enough times yet?

Eventually he got kicked out of the bar, and had to go... to the next bar, before that one kicked him out too. He'd started hitting on any girl he saw, and the last place eventually kicked him out for, according to them, offering to go down on a portrait of the madam who'd ran the bar in 1889. Whatever, Adam had booze at home. So, to home he went, very slowly, trying not to trip over his feet too much.

Adam rounded a corner, and blearily blinked in realization it didn't seem familiar, he must have taken a wrong turn - then, he saw something else. A figure was collapsed on the ground, legs buckled under them, and another individual was just barely keeping their head up. Except, it didn't look like they'd caught them, it seemed more as though-

The man looked over his shoulder, back at Adam. His hair was a pale blond, and his eyes were glowing red, pupils a bright unearthly gold. Blood was dripping down his chin.

"Hey, fucker! Let them go!" Adam yelled, marching forward, never one to back down from a fight. Plus, it helped he could tell he was close to a foot taller than the guy. Adam was taller than most people, including most cis guys he met, which in Adam's mind made him the alpha male.

In a blink of an eye, Adam was slammed up against a wall, a hand around his throat, and inhuman eyes stared up at him with mild annoyance; until suddenly they widened in surprise.

"Wait, I know your scent." The figure said, sniffing the air. "Why do I know your scent..."

Adam struggled against him, it seemed insane that a tiny guy like this, who looked more like a librarian or a fucking jester, could be this strong. It wasn't just that he was drunk, this thing wasn't human.

The hand slid down, gripping into Adam's shirt to jerk his head down, until they were face to face. "You smell so..."

Adam flinched as the thing leaned in and bite hard into his neck. It was painful, more than he was expecting, but his struggling was useless. But, suddenly, pleasure began to flood through his body. It throbbed in his head, his chest, between his legs. From terror to abject ecstasy, Adam moaned, his hands no longer trying to push away, but to pull him in closer.

The man let go, before biting down again, and Adam came, legs suddenly weak. He was soaked, like he could drown a horse he was so wet. A hand pushed down the front of his pants, and very quickly coaxed him to another orgasm.

"Call me Lucifer," the man said, pulling his hand out and licking his blood off his lips before licking his fingers. "You'll be seeing me again."

In a flash, Lucifer vanished, and Adam was left with a headache, sticky pants, and the knowledge he should probably google vampires.

[marimology]

Pairing: ichiji vinsmoke x charlotte! trans masc reader

notes: smut, cnc (consensual) , arranged marriage ( mentions sanji and pudding), somewhat romeo and juliet inspired trope, Getting caught, almost getting caught, only ‘person?’ who knows about the relationship is y/n’s door because it lets them know if someone is nearby, transponder snail sex (phone sex), this is me letting my brain cook like sanji , cuckholding

a/n : I love this red headed loser, also my requests are open , ichiji is a girl dad argue with the wall

ICHIJI VINSMOKE who did not expect to fall in love with the 7th son of Charlotte LinLin when he and his family came over came over to whole cake to discuss the marriage between sanji and pudding. ears perking as you heard that they would be here for the next four months.

ICHIJI VINSMOKE who when he saw you sitting next to mama his heart would flutter whenever you would try to hold a conversation with him and you would stop as you noticed big mom staring down at you.

ICHJI VINSMOKE who after a month of being on whole cake finally got the courage to ask you out con a date and being surprised when you said yes but you two would have to choose wisely as the public only knew about Sanji and puddings wedding. so he took you out for a picnic underneath a bridge.

ICHIJI VINSMOKE who loved to leave hickeys around your body but in places where you would be able to hide them after every day so you wouldn’t get in trouble with your family and vise versa.

ICHIJI VINSMOKE who loves to threaten you with cumming inside of you every time that you both fuck so that you could walk around with his baby and your family would be wondering whose the father.

ICHIJI VINSMOKE who once him and his family left whole cake,missed the touch of your skin and your velvet walls clenching around his cock begging him not to cum inside of you, and your whimpers as you felt his cock form a bludge in your belly .

ICHIJI VINSMOKE who loves to call you after a raid, jerking off to your wanted poster each time your bounty raises saying that he’d turn you into the marines only after fucking you in front of them first. you both have memorized your respective family members sleep schedules memorized as you would masturbate on a call together as the transponder snail would capture all of your pretty noises.

it has now been over a year

ICHIJI VINSMOKE who kept a calendar hidden in his room where he’d count down the days until the next time they’d go to whole cake so he could show you how much he missed you and could pepper your skin with kisses once more, and that night he brought up the topic of getting married in secret which you happily said yes to with tears forming and he wears a cape on his suit that has a button / ring that’s actually his wedding ring whilst you wear yours as a pair of earrings

ICHIJI VINSMOKE who only hated sanji more because he couldn’t publicly say that you were his husband.

sanji vinsmoke who when walking past ichiji’s room heard him end a call with a “love you” but couldn’t pick out who he was talking to … it’s not like he wanted to anyways he care less as to what that asshole was doing he knew he couldn’t feel any emotion towards anyone

ICHIJI VINSMOKE who as soon as Germa docked back on whole cake and they had sanji meet pudding. went to find you in your room and embraced you in the warmest hug that you’ve ever felt and it was your first embrace as husbands. and later that night had you whimpering on his cock and told you how much he missed you as your brain was being turned into mush as you were being forced to take his cock after being overstimulated.

ICHIJI VINSMOKE who was happy that straw-hat came wanting to save sanji because that meant that if sanji leaves then he could publicly marry you

brulee charlotte who should’ve minded her own damn business when she was looking through her mirror realm and saw you being made to look at the mirror by a siluette that she couldn’t make out nor did she want to

yonji vinsmoke who wanted to spar with you and went to your room and asked your door to speak with you but was pissed off when it said you were busy and snuck around to try and see what you possibly could’ve been doing that was more important than sparring with him and almost falling over when he saw the sight of you sitting on his brothers lap taking his dick with your face buried in his neck and a Visual Den Den Mushi recording every moment of it as ichiji whispered praises. he should’ve minded his own damn business, but he could see the love in his brothers eyes as he looked you

ICHIJI VINSMOKE who’s heart shattered when big mom announced that she had arranged a marriage between you and a princess from a neighboring kingdom. and you both spared quick glances at eachother, but the poor girl clearly looked like she was in love

later that same night he took both you and the girl to your room and fucked you in front her. telling her that she’d never get a chance to feel how good you are and she should just go somewhere and die because she’s a homewrecker.

And ironically she was found dead the next day and you didn’t know who it was that killed her….. it was ichiji

YOU AND ICHIJI who took the chance to feign your own deaths during the fight between the big mom pirates ,vinsmokes, and straw hats and ran away to be able to live a happy life together only yonji knows you two are still alive

ICHIJI VINSMOKE who is definitely not the worlds most perfect husband but is happy that you even decided to give him a chance

it’s been four years since that day and everyone mourns the lost of you two but little do they know you both live in the same secluded town with your older sister lola and are raising 2 children

TAGLIST: @henrioo @gomugomuslip

©marimology do not steal or copy my work

[syoddeye]

final part of piercer!simon. read the previous bit.

simon x transmasc!reader. ~2.1k words. +18 only. Note: Cunt, cock, and clit are used to describe genitalia of a trans masc reader’s body. Hit the back and/or block buttons as needed. CW: description of piercing procedure, dubcon touching (reader is interested and generally consenting, but a lil scared because simon), packing, minor negative self-talk, needles (mentioned), invasive questions, simon riley’s bad filthy jokes, mild degradation, praise, fingering, frotting, just the tip, italicized dialogue

Want to see what a Duke piercin' would look like on you?

No sooner than you mutter a ‘yes’, Simon helps you to your feet, and orders you to strip from the waist-down. He turns away to rummage through an acrylic cabinet. Hands trembling, you pop your fly and pull the zipper. At the sound, the broad set of shoulders and back in front of you tense. You hesitate, fingers curled around your waistband, and his head swivels a fraction. He’s listening.

Your breath shudders. This is a preview. Not the actual piercing. 

Your jeans are barely to your thighs when he faces you again, steel forceps back in hand, two bells pinched in his fingers. Staring through half-lidded, dark eyes, he gestures to your boxer briefs with the instrument.

Those too. All the way off. Nothing I haven’t seen before. 

You doubt it. Slow as molasses, you peel the cotton down, carefully taking the modest foam packer with it. Your eyes fix themselves to the crease of Simon’s bent arm, the inky black of his tattoo, but you can’t close your ears to how he inhales deeply through his nose. Not in the way you expect. With interest, like he’s trying to sniff you out.

All the way off. He repeats.

You obey and step out of the pile of clothes. Simon hums. Reluctantly, you meet his gaze and find him staring. His eyes narrow slightly, apparently having waited, then drag down your body. Their weight palpable when they reach your cock.

Pretty.

Simon steps closer and chucks your chin with the forceps. The cold makes you swallow, and his subtle crows' feet crinkle. 

Do you trust me?

He knows the answer. You’ve paid him to stab you over a dozen times, but he needs a ‘yes’, and you give it to him. He moves. Both you and him.

Despite the cool, sterile atmosphere of Simon’s studio, you feel like you’re melting. Heat licks up your back, curling around your neck and cheeks, blistering with a mix of humiliation and anticipation. Every nerve ending alight, and Simon hasn’t even touched you, at least, not where you want him to.

Comfy?

Another ‘yes’ ekes out.

Legs spread and hauled over Simon’s thick thighs, you recline between his legs, facing a mirror. One hand guides your hips into a slight angle, putting your cock on display. His arms slip under yours, smoothing the corner of the bandage protecting your fresh navel piercing.

A chuckle rumbles through your back and tightens your chest. The hand on your stomach shifts, and his arm bands around your middle. Tucking his head into your shoulder, paper mask skimming your cheek, he draws the forceps closer to his target, and his breathing quiets in your ear. Beneath the lingering smell of disinfectant, smoke and cardamom wafts off his skin.

Gonna be cold. I’ve got you.

And it is, and he does. You fight your reflexes as he maneuvers the instrument between your thighs, brushing your cock and the sensitive dip of skin and hair. Gently exposing you further, he coos in your ear, a smugness edging his voice when it twitches. Look at you. Perfect candidate. 

The chill bites as the blunt jaws hold the skin away from your cock, and your eyes dart between it and your cunt. Your fingertips dig into his thighs at the sheen of arousal threatening to pool and drip. There’s no way he hasn’t noticed.

Hold these. Simon taps the handle. Don’t move or it’ll hurt.

Your hand takes over, and his grip relents. A barbell in each hand, he slowly moves the jewelry into places, his breath deep and even. Rapt, your mouth parts. The symmetry is simple, yet—

Gorgeous. Eyes flicking to him in the reflection, you preen, and his deep, rattling breath makes you shiver. Do you get hard often?

You wilt and think to rise, bail, but then he rubs the steel along the sides of your cock, coaxing it to attention. The move chokes his name out of your throat, and you nearly drop the tool. A huff of laughter filtered by the mask warms your face. He meets your eye in the mirror and continues.You like that, pretty? Can feel how stiff you are.

His thighs open further, taking yours with them, his covered mouth pressing to your neck. His fingers stray from the bells every other arc against your cock, gingerly stroking. At the escape of a whine, he drops the pretense altogether. The jewelry clatters to the ground abandoned, and he reclaims the forceps. He drags the flat, oval tips over your skin as if they were as soft as a feather. His free hand snakes under the hem of your shirt, shoving up until it glides to the base of your neck. A thumb rests in the hollow of your throat. The sight in the mirror renders you speechless, watching his dexterous fingers manipulate the metal to tease and toy, winding you up until you shake.

Normally can’t get you to shut it, now you’re as quiet and as fidgety as a church mouse. Simon ditches the tool next, splitting two thick fingers to take its place. They edge down, slick soaking the latex, and he groans against your head. The digits creep further, slow, one experimentally touching the tender underside of your cock, while the other pets over your hole, clearly telegraphing what’s next. 

Simon removes his hand altogether, chuckling at the whine that follows. Yeah, like that. He holds your gaze, licking the tips of his gloves clean before biting a latex tip and tugging the glove off. He hawks the thing to the floor with a wet slap, and pulls his mask under his chin. Pale, old scars decorate his face and knuckles. There’s a story, and you think to ask, but he pushes his fingers past your lips and stuffs them into your mouth. Sweat and hand soap dance over your tongue as he makes use of it, wetting his fingers up to the metacarpal, groaning at the sight of spit collecting on his skin. Wanna hear you, pretty.

You’re dripping by the time his fingers return, and with a single shaky nod in the mirror, he sinks them into your sopping cunt. Electric currents buzz bilaterally in your spine, and sparks ricochet behind your eyelids when you shut them tight and rapidly open again. His naked mouth finds your ear with whispered, unintelligible filth. He grins, self-satisfied, half-hidden by your head. Was thinkin’, he purrs with a slow pump of his fingers, I usually put holes in you. Don’t mind plugging this one.

If he wasn’t knuckles deep, you’d leave. Definitely. Wrench yourself off his—his fingers crook into a devastating angle, petting with the precision his job demands. The wet seal of your hole around his fingers is a sight, walls molding to the intrusion. He stokes a fire in your belly, simmering beneath the bandage, finally cajoling words from your mouth. Your voice, saturated with desperation, begs for more.                                                                                

Simon’s hand grasps your neck, giving it a squeeze in time with a thrust of his fingers. Greedy boy. You always want more. More jabs. He punctuates with a deep plunge and vulgar squelch. More attention. More me.

His mouth latches over your neck and suckles, groans muffled when you clench around his digits. He breaks the suction with a wet pop, trailing his spit to a lobe. Had a feeling when you started booking me. Didn’t think much of it. 

He extracts his fingers at the early pulses of your orgasm, spanking the wet tissue with a few harsh pats. You’re fuckin’ annoying. He chuckles at the ease of his fingers’ reentry into the tight clasp of your cunt. But you’re good like this, aren’t you.

He repeats the process twice. Gets you twitching, squirming in his lap. The blunt shape of his erection digs into your bare skin, the denim chafing. Half-consciously, you ride it, trying to rut back into it as he fucks his fingers in, thumb minding your cock. A hand migrates to the bulge of his forearm through your shirt, and the sweat on the palm leeches into the cotton.

He grunts into your ear between sloppy kisses to your jaw and neck. His thumb presses the flushed tip of your cock once, reminding you of his plans. The metal he wants you to wear. Leagues more intimate than any collar or ring. The thought makes you twitch, makes your hole clench.

Simon’s grip on your neck loosens, climbing to your jaw, holding your face straight to the mirror. His eyelids curtain blown pupils, licking a line on your skin. Let go, pretty. Be a good boy and cum on my fingers. The command triggers detonation, your orgasm obliterating the vestiges of your self-control. Hard, fast, and white-hot, it rips out of you in a pitchy cry, hands scrabbling at his thigh and arm, certain you’ll ascend heavenward too early. He holds fast, fingers secure in the vise of your cunt as it tries to fruitlessly milk honey from their stone.

Mind fuzzy with static at its edges, you hear him mutter. All you get is a moment’s rest before you find yourself upended, dragged bodily off the floor, supported by his arms. You ragdoll a second, jerking when your toes drag, and he settles you back on the lifted cot. Your eyes loll in their sockets, blinking, finding sudden clarity when his hips knock your knees apart. His cock, heavy and leaking, rests on the cradle of his opened zipper and juts into the meat of your leg. You tense. The light glints off the row of barbells adorning his length, and your breath catches. If his girth didn’t intimidate you, the ladder did.

What? Afraid it’ll hurt? He drags a thumb slowly over the raised ridges, the metal lying beneath the surface. His gloved hand grips the crease of your thigh, thumb resting above the crown of your engorged clit, caressing the damp hair. He strokes himself with the other, hissing through the first few pumps. You inhale as he slaps his cock, already slick with your release and his precum, against your sensitive flesh. It catches your tip, then briefly the mouth of your soaked cunt, garnering a whimpering protest out of you. Not today. Promise.

Sweat and cum coat his fingers as he pushes his cock to yours, gradually finding a course and a rhythm. The heat of him is heavy, the smooth ends of his piercings drumming along your cock and skin. It’s embarrassing how quickly Simon wrests a second orgasm out of you, mortifying when he breathlessly comments he wishes you squirted, that he loves a mess. It’s not as all-encompassing as the first and doesn’t threaten to rattle you off the table. You’re lucid when he notches his tip to your fluttering hole. Fuck, need a taste, jus' the tip.

Simon’s thrusts are shallow and controlled—enough to drown out the alarm bells, illustrating the power held back. The blunt head stretches with a slight burn despite his fingers and the mess of your cunt. To your relief, he keeps his word, means it, just the tip. He pulls back a half-step, a choked groan preceding the thick ropes of spend he spills over your inner thighs. He releases his softening length, hand planting on the bed, and leans into your space. His head skims your shoulder, gathered beads of sweat fall from his temple, ragged breaths subsiding into quiet puffs. He withdraws, lips ghosting over your cheek, and turns to the acrylic cubbies. 

Simon cleans and tucks himself away first, then you, amused by your squirming. He retrieves your clothes and insists on holding your underwear and jeans for you to step into. You swallow your pride to let him help. Aftershocks ripple through your thighs, the muscles and nerves pulverized into gelatin, malleable from his touch. He adjusts the packer, drags a knuckle over the fly seam, then holds you close with a finger hooked in a belt loop.

After all that, he asks if you want the piercing now that you understand the placement. He can pencil you in a month from now.

You don’t miss how the suggested date falls on a Friday evening. You tell him you need to think about it. It’s quite the commitment, from what you’ve learned.

Simon unlocks the door as you gather your jacket from the waiting area out front. Bars the exit with an arm, an aftercare kit dangling between two fingers. You pluck it from him, meeting his eyes over the fresh surgical mask.

My Johnny loves his Duke. Could show you, might change your mind.

[0o-junebug-o0]

I know you don't see Emily as anything but a lesbian but could you possibly do a trans reader? It can trans non-binary or masc like a demi boy, but they're afraid to come out to Emily because she is very open that she's gay?

Coming Out

Here you go!

genre: angst and fluff, hurt/comfort

cw: coming out, trans masc!reader, no use of y/n, panic attacks

wordcount: 1.2k

You pace back and forth across the living room, taking deep, steadying breaths to try to calm yourself. You groan in frustration and sit on the edge of the couch, burying your head in your hands. You can feel your hands shaking.

You’re terrified. You’ve been dating Emily for almost two years. You live together. How do you tell her you’re not the girl she started dating? And you have no idea what it will mean for your relationship when you do. Emily is a lesbian. She likes women. And you’re not a woman. 

You lean back and run your hands over your chest, reveling in the flatness. Your binder arrived three weeks ago. You had made sure it would be delivered while Emily was on a case. You immediately hid it, and have only worn it while Emily is out of town and there’s no chance of her seeing it. 

It makes you feel so incredibly guilty.

She’s your girlfriend. You shouldn’t be hiding stuff from her. 

You adjust the binder with a grunt. It’s still uncomfortable to wear since you haven’t gotten used to it yet, but it’s worth it. You check your watch. Emily should be home in a few minutes. You don’t want to ambush her with this the second she walks through the door but you’ve been hyping yourself up all week and if you don’t do it soon, you’re not sure you ever will. 

Still, you’re scared. What if she breaks up with you because you’re not a woman? What if she gets mad that you didn’t tell her sooner? What if this makes her hate you?

A panicked sob bubbles up your throat and you curl in on yourself, hugging your stomach to try to calm down. You can feel your heart rate picking up as you gasp for air. 

You force yourself to take deep breaths and the shakiness of each inhale is audible. Then you hear Emily’s key turning in the lock and your panic increases. She’s here, she’s going to see you like this, she’s going to hate you. 

She calls your name from the entryway as she moves around and even though that’s still the name you use, the sound causes a sob to tear from your chest. You hear Emily freeze. You clap a hand over your mouth, and though you desperately want to get up and lock yourself in the bathroom to hide, your body won’t cooperate. 

You hear Emily’s footsteps coming toward the living room and your breathing picks up until you’re hyperventilating and gasping between sobs.

“Woah, hey, hey,” Emily says softly, sitting beside you on the couch. “What’s going on? What happened?” She rests her hand on your back and starts rubbing soothing circles.

You practically shove your body against hers, not caring that you're staining her shirt with your tears, just desperate to touch her in case this is the last time you can. “P-please don’t hate me,” you wail.

“Oh, sweetie,” Emily mutters kindly. “I could never hate you.”

You curl your fingers into the front of her shirt and cling to it like a lifeline. “You don’t—you don’t know that,” you sob.

“I do know that,” Emily reassures you.

You sniff and pull away, untangling your hands from her shirt. You look her in the eyes for a moment, noticing the clear concern written on her face. You lift your hand and hold out your pinkie. “Pi-pinkie promise?” you stutter. You feel like a child for asking, but you’re so desperate for her answer that you can’t bring yourself to care. 

Emily removes her hand from your back and curls her pinkie around yours. “Pinkie promise.”

You sniff again and unlatch your pinkie to rub your face. Emily’s hand returns to your back. 

“I—“ you start. You can feel your chin wobble and you bite on your lower lip to stop it. You bow your head, too afraid to watch the changes in her expression as you tell her. “I’m not a girl.”

You feel Emily’s hand still for a moment before it starts moving again. She doesn’t say anything, waiting for you to continue.

“I’m non binary. Or at least that’s what feels like it fits. Pl-please, don’t be mad! I understand if you want to break u—"

“Woah, hey,” Emily interrupts. “I’m not mad, I promise. But do–do you want to break up?” Her voice is wary and it shakes slightly.

Your head shoots up to look at her. “No! Never!” you insist. “But I–I thought you might want to.”

“What on Earth could make you think that?” Emily asks. There isn’t a hint of malice or annoyance in her voice. Just curiosity and concern.

“Be-because you’re a lesbian. And I’m not a girl,” you mutter.

“Oh, sweetheart. I don’t care about that,” Emily coos. “You’re so much more important to me than what I call myself. I love you for you, not for your gender. I don’t care what you identify as, I will always love you.”

Tears stream down your cheeks and you wipe them away violently. “Th-thank you,” you gasp.

“Oh, honey.” Emily pulls you against her chest, holding you close and moving her hand to rub up and down your arm. “There’s nothing to thank me for.”

“Yes, there is,” you argue, your voice muffled against her.

Emily presses a kiss to the top of your head instead of arguing. “I do have some questions I want to ask, though, if that’s okay.”

You nod against her chest and tilt your head to look up at her.

She smiles down at you kindly. “Do you, um, do you want to go by a different name?” she asks awkwardly.

You shake your head. 

“What about pronouns?”

“I like they/them, but I’m not sure,” you admit. “And I don’t like being called a girl.”

Emily nods. “Okay. That's good to know. I, um, I might mess up sometimes at first but I promise I'll be doing my best.”

“That’s all I want,” you whisper, and press a kiss to her chin. 

She smiles and lowers her head to catch your lips for a brief kiss.

“How long have you known?” Emily asks softly.

You hum and furrow your brow as you try to think back. “Maybe five months,” you say. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Hey, I’m not upset about that. I could never be. Coming out is hard.”

“I bought myself a binder a few weeks ago too,” you admit.

Emily’s brow furrows in confusion. “A binder?”

You nod. “It’s a compression garment, kind of like a beefed up sports bra, that flattens your chest.” You lean back and run your hands over your chest to show her. “See?”

“Impressive,” Emily says with a slight laugh.

You laugh in response. “Yeah. I, um, I really like it. It makes me happy. And feel right. If that makes sense.”

Emily nods and pulls you in for another kiss. “It does. And I’m glad.”

“You’re the best,” you whisper against her lips.

“I know,” she teases. 

You laugh and lightly bat her shoulder and Emily laughs too.

“I love you, sweet thing,” she mutters. 

You hum. “I love you too. And I like that nickname.”

Emily chuckles. “Better than 'sweet girl'?”

“Much better.”

_____

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

Taglist!: fill out this form if you want to be tagged when I post fics

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[heron-breeder]

If you follow any transfem supremacy intlectuals, you’ve certainly seen anonymous asks from subby transfems asking what their place would by in the glorious utopia of our inevitable transfem supremacist future. “Am I allowed to be owned as rape meat with the cissies of if I want to”, “do I need fuck cis girls if I just wanna get topped?”, “is me being subby a detriment to transfem supremacy?” Things like that. These are almost universally met with the leading voices of the movment asruing these slutty subs that of course they can be submissive, even rape meat, if that’s what they want in our future.

And while that’s well and good, I want to be proactive in reaching out to our submissive sisters. If you long for the cuter where dominant trans woman run the world, but you still want to be owned by a superior t dominant trans woman, here are some of the roles you might have in the future, and how they in no way detract from the truth of transfem supremacy.

Favored Toy: You’re inatly suprior to the cissies and fakeboys your Mistress fucks, and that entitles you to special treatment. This could be more time and attention being fucked by your Mistress, more comfterble quarters and clothes, whatever is needed to make sure you’re a happy sub

Jealousy Fuel: While proper Mistresses will certainly be raping indoors into submission, plenary will also be openly addicted to Supiror transfem cock. And that dosn’t mean they don’t still need to be shown their place. And you can help in this by being used in front of the ungrateful cunts until they beg hard enough.

Aftercare: while I’m sure there are transfem subs who would like to be as horribly abused as Cissies, being a transfem still entitles you to safe words, aftercare, and the softer treatment. Certainly, you will be spanked, fucked, and used like the submissive slut you are, but if it becomes too much, or you want soft treatment afterward, you can revive it. And this sets an excelent example to our inferiors. While the rape meat is lying their battered and brain broken, they see that even the quite and submissive transfems are infinitely above them though the special treatment you get.

Gender presentation and bodily autonomy: While a all cissies are indoor, plants of thought-leaders for the movment have talked about their their gender presentation, or even their gender, while be dictated by their transfem owners. Detransing fakeboys with hormoans and planstic surgery, force mascing androgynous non-binary twinks, rounding up cis woman, whatever pleases us. But you, as a submissive trans woman, will be in full control of your body and how you present. You’ll be given HRT, bottom and top surgery, anything you like. And it will all be at your pace, and your discretion, unlike the inferiors, who will have their bodies changed at the behest of their owners.

Trained rape machine: Say you want to have a more active role in enforcing Transfem Supremacy, but you don’t nessisarly want to be making the desitions that a dominant need to. Well, I think that there is still a solution for this. As discussed by noted thought-leader @t-girl-breeder in this post, transfems who want to be useful but don’t have the will to do it themselves can be trained as “attack dogs,” trained mindless rapists to be set on cissies who need to be shown their place, but the near by trans mistress can’t be bothered.

Changing your mind: And most importantly, your relationship with your Mistress will be purely on an at-will basis. If at any point you decide you would prefer to serve a different mistress, take a break, enter a different kind of relationship, or even become a dominant yourself, you are free to do so.

I hope this helped any sunny transfems see that even if you want to be rapemeat yourself in our gtransfem supremacist future, there is a sultry a place for you, and you’re in no way holding back the cause of transfem supremacy by being a submissive slut. I hope this was informative!

[henrioo]

°•*⁀➷ MORNING SICKNESS: SHANKS

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : "Being pregnant with Luffy, your first child with your husband Shanks, is a dream come true... But that doesn't make it any easier to deal with the recurring nausea."

꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ : TRANS MASC! Reader, TRANS MALE! reader, FTM reader, pregnant men, he/his pronouns, gay relationship, gay marriage, two daddies being happy, Shanks is an over-the-top father and husband, Luffy is your son's name, Shanks calls himself Daddy and calls you Papa (revenge against fan fiction with the reader being called Mama) Nausea due to pregnancy, Shanks is a very worried father and husband

꒰ WC ꒱ : 676

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : I've been on a roller coaster these last few weeks and I had decided to post on Saturday thanks to Bibi, but I almost changed my mind, I decided to be strong and post even though I was feeling like shit. I'm kind of excited but also extremely unsure about entering the world of imagines male, well we'll see how it goes

﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋

And just like the last few nights you were abruptly woken from your not-so-peaceful sleep by the incredible need to throw up all your dinner. Your body was sweaty and hot even though you were sleeping wearing just a huge shirt from Shanks — one that he bought the wrong size and it was big even on him so it was huge on you — and your kitten print underwear that you got from a joke of Shanks in a Christmas prank.

The bedroom window was open, now with a mosquito screen since your husband was paranoid about you being bitten by an insect and dying since your pregnancy announcement, and you took advantage of the light breeze to sit on the bed and calm down a little to see if the nausea went away. There was a humidifier running, the curtains swayed slightly, and there was a child's light in the room that Shanks had bought in fear of you tripping when you got up in the dark and hurting yourself.

Sometimes you questioned whether Shanks knew that you weren't that fragile just because you were pregnant, after all you were proud of all your strength and masculine muscles... But you wouldn't deny that his extra care calmed your heart a lot. The bed was also huge, the redhead wanted to buy a bigger one after reading news about parents crushing their children for sleeping together in small beds, of course there was no point in explaining to him that this was sensational news since before you could argue he had already ordered it and paid for the new furniture.

A kick in the stomach and your dinner turning around as it climbed up your throat made you stop remembering how careful your sleeping husband was, you quickly got out of the soft covers and ran to the bedroom's bathroom. You quickly knelt on the rug in front of the toilet and it wasn't long before you were vomiting again, you loved your baby and you loved being pregnant, but you would also love to stop vomiting everything you tried to swallow.

“huh, he woke up early today” Shanks yawned as he awkwardly entered the bathroom, luckily the room was big enough for both of you.

“I shouldn’t have had dinner” you mumbled nauseously as you rested your head on the cold part of the white ceramic.

“You always say that but you always have dinner… Honestly you haven't stopped eating since you got pregnant” Shanks laughed and sat next to you, taking a towel from the cupboard and slowly wiping your face.

“It’s not me… It’s Luffy… He’s hungry like you” you teased Shanks.

“Of course… Hungry like his daddy and hyperactive like his papa” Shanks responded to the provocation and you knew he was right. If your unborn child was hungry because of the redhead, then he was also hyperactive because of you. Since, as everyone always said, you had extreme difficulty sitting around doing nothing, always looking for something to do and have fun.

“The perfect combination” you laughed tiredly as you felt the nausea slowly going away.

“Completely perfect… But look, this kid will find himself with me when he's born, making my husband vomit everything I cook for him” Shanks snorted, pretending to be irritated “He's thinking that money falls on trees so I can spend it on food and he can make you put it out?!”

You laughed but soon felt some light kicks in your stomach that made you both gasp.

“I think that was Lu telling you to go all out and he’s going to kick your old ass” you laughed, rubbing your stomach affectionately.

“Brat… Stubborn like his papa” the redhead laughed and gave you a wink “Okay, let's get you off the ground and put you in front of the window… And get you a glass of water too” the man smiled as he stood up ready to help you.

Maybe pregnancy wouldn't be so terrible if you had a husband who was so worried about you…

﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋

[drdemonprince]

i recently started hooking up with a cis gay man and last night he let slip a gap in his knowledge that makes me think he does not actually know shit or fuck about how vaginas work (gently tried to say that i wasn’t cleaning properly and i had to inform him it’s not healthy to douche vaginas and that pussy is supposed to have a flavor; it’s entirely possible he still thinks pee comes from the vagina). You always have good reading recommendations so do know of any good resources specifically for giving a cis gay man a crash course in boypussy?

There's definitely zines out there about fucking trans men, but tbh I find them super alienating and I don't think they would be helpful in this instance because the dude is lacking vagina 101 knowledge, not really trans guy specific knowledge. You might disagree with me but I think it's kind of on him to take a step back and google shit that basic. I think all you have a responsibility to do is to laugh off the dumbest shit he says and see if he puts the effort in, because it's really as simple as him like asking a cis woman bestie or opening up a cosmopolitan from like 2005.

I was hooking up with this gay couple for several months and the first time we hooked up, the more masc guy of the couple had no fuckin idea how to angle penetration. it's like he thought my vagina was a slot on the front of my body lol. but by the second time we connected a month later, he had it figured out. it helped that his femboy partner had fucked cis girls before.

i kind of liked that the two of them truly saw me as a cis guy who just happened to have this slightly mystifying fun hole to play with; the masc guy asked me at what age i knew i was gay and we traded adolescent coming-out stories and there was never any wrinkle of them thinking of my experience having been different or that i hadn't thought of myself as a gay man even back then. it allowed me to really feel coherent and validated in a way i never had been before. all of which is to say i think it can be nice sometimes when a cis gay comes at you with a """gay""" perspective rather than a """"trans""" one, because that means they get the whole of you socially and relationally even if it means they have to google what squirting is at some point or whatever.

but it's cool if you see it differently. if anybody does have resources theyve found helpful feel free to put them in the notes.

[manicpixiedckgirl]

if you're a perfectionist, and you're trans -

and not the kind of perfectionist they show on TV where you just spend an outrageously long time getting every detail right, enjoying yourself the whole time, but the kind of perfectionist where you practice something over and over and over again before ever doing it in front of other people because you'd rather die than be seen failing -

you're going to need to learn how to be very patient and very kind with yourself during transition, especially the early years. Like any puberty, there are going to be awkward periods - that's unavoidable. youll have too much hair where you dont want it, too little where you do. you'll need to learn your new voice, whether it's dropping on it's own or you're trying to raise it. you'll walk different, stand different, because your body is going to be different. your wardrobe is going shrink and grow and shrink again and then explode.

you need to be okay with growing as a person, over time. with changing your style, changing your mannerisms, changing your habits - and with things not working. you don't know how to do this, not yet, and you're going get it wrong sometimes. that's okay. nobody knows what to do, ever. there's going to be so much happiness when you do get something right. and you're going learn so many new skills, discover new hobbies, new fashions, new artforms. you'll figure it all out eventually, to the point where you wake up and it's not hard anymore.

but you're going to have to try these things around other people a lot of the time, to exist in the world with any sort of life (which is the point btw. go out. make a friend. touch grass), but also, to know if they're working, and if you even really like doing them at all. maybe you're not as femme or masc as you thought you were - maybe it's just too much work to do that everyday. you'll have fashion years, and rotting years - you'll probably settle somewhere in between. but you'll go through phases, and you'll think your old ones were cringe, just like you did before - transition isn't going to fix that. your inner critic will start to shut up when you start be nice to yourself, HRT won't do that for you.

but the people in your life, the ones who matter, will love and respect you regardless. they just want to see you smile, see you happy. they think you're fine as you are, and want to know who you'll be tomorrow. it's not actually a competition, and no one's watching anyway. they're too busy with their own shit to notice most of the time.

and by being kinder to yourself, you might even end up as a slightly less tightly wound ball of anxiety. idk if you'll ever drop the constant self-judgement, i haven't gotten that far yet. but you'll learn to take your flowers, every once in a while - let your girlfriend call you pretty and stop arguing with her - hear a friend say thank you, and say 'anytime' instead of 'no problem', because you want them to know that you'll help whenever they need it, not just when it's no effort. anyway. maybe this is just a note to myself. goodbye. i love you. good luck, you got this

[wrathofrats]

Do you have headcanons about transfem Ifrit that you would like to share? SFW or NSFW? 👉👈

Hi I have both thank you

Obvious disclaimer that I am not trans, if I get something wrong or say something incorrect pls feel free to correct me (nicely or I’ll cry LMAO)

Sfw, and then nsfw below the cut!

- I still don’t think she’s like super feminine, pretty masc. still your average gym rat

- does grow out her hair as long as possible though because she thinks it’s fun to style and likes the way her ponytail swooshes (she’s always been jealous of zephs hair let’s be real)

- sometimes gets bad mood swings. Mostly just feeling very sad over nothing or anxious, I don’t think she gets super angry often. Zephyr has had to get used to the speech of “no I’m not mad at you I love you very much I’m just in a bad mood” when ifrit cries because zephyr hasn’t said I love you today. She once cried because zephyr gave her part of their sandwich when she got back from the gym (they just weren’t hungry. They’d never tell her that though)

- the first time Zeph called her their girlfriend she also cried

- loves the way her body rounds out on hormones. Gains a bit more fat and makes her muscles less jagged, which makes her feel like a real weight lifter.

-really enjoys shaving. Like her skin is so soft and it makes her do a little happy dance when she gets to be all smooth (cumulus showed her the fresh sheets + fresh shave combo and it changed her LIFE)

Nsfw

- loses a decent amount of her libido. Really only has sex when someone else wants it besides some special occasions where she gets really needy.

- her tits get so fucking big. Like I’m talking she gets D cups. And they’re so fucking sensitive as well. Zephyr just adores them and loves to straddle her and play with them while she writhes beneath them. Sometimes as a special treat Zeph gets her in front of a mirror and makes her watch as they pluck and knead at them.

- pls just imagine her all sweaty peeling off a sports bra, breathing heavy and throwing her head back at the relief. Thank you.

- zephyr calls her cock her strap

-pathetic service top ifrit x condescending power bottom zephyr

- aether calls her cock a clit and won’t touch her unless she asks him to fuck her pussy. She learns soon enough and asks any ghoul to touch her cunt

[thrashkink-coven]

Just Trans devotee things

Doing my T shot on Fridays as an devotional act to Venus - (saying “SHE WHO THRNS A MAN INTO A WOMAN AND A WOMAN INTO A MAN ARE YOURS INANNA!” while I do my shot)

Always having a sweet treat after doing my T shot because I’m such a brave boy

Putting sigils in my binder with baby powder

Discussing top surgery plans with Aphrodite

Praying to Aphrodite and Hermes that my hormones won’t get more expensive

Pretending my harnesses are battle armour and I am a knight suiting up to fuck my gf

Enchanting my eyeliner to see through lies

Enchanting my lip balm to speak truths

Doing my bfs makeup in front of the altar

Drawing sigils on my nails and painting over them with polish

Singing mantras and enns to voice train

Working out/going on bike rides to get BUFF with Hermes

spending a couple extra dollars to get the fancy body wash and soap for shower/bath rituals

dedicating all hair days to Aphrodite

letting Aphrodite bless all my sex toys

Letting Lucifer bless my hard packers and straps

Burning shaven hair at my altar

Dusting my hair with incense ash

Asking Aphrodite if it’s a masc or a fem day

Worshipping Aphrodite while getting ready for a date or drag show

Always being gendered correctly by your deities even before you fully realize which pronouns you prefer

Calling on Lord Cerberus to help me find my binder because I misplace it all the time god damn it

Looking at paintings and sculptures of Dionysus as transition goals

Sharing clothes with your trans partner/ room mates

Dyeing your friend’s hair together

[trans-androgyne]

so are you saying that you don’t think that cis men have power and privilege over cis women? or are you just arguing that trans men are never seen/treated as men and trans women are never seen/treated as women? because you can’t believe that the patriarchy and sexism exists but also believe that there is no difference in power whatsoever between trans men and trans women. transphobia doesn’t affect us equally when sexism doesn’t affect all genders equally.

No I’m not saying any of that lmao. I am arguing that not all trans people pass and we can’t just pretend they all do when talking about privilege and give a big fuck-you to everyone who doesn’t fit into that. I know plenty of trans men and mascs who present exactly like women full time for one reason or another. Where is their male privilege? Of course there are people who pass and benefit from conditional privileges; you can see this reflected in certain domains, like how trans men on average get paid less than cis people but higher than trans women. But people focus only on aspects where passing transmascs get privilege, ignore non-passing transmascs, and ignore the domains where we have things harder than transfems. We have higher suicide rates. We have higher rates of sexual assault. Abortion issues affect our bodies directly. I’m off T not by choice right now due specifically to its controlled substance status. We’re understudied and under supported. You will never have a solid grasp on trans oppression if your only move is to copy + paste from cisfeminism and tack “trans” onto the front. Things are more complicated than that. Trans folks are not always seen as men or women at all but either some twisted version of those, a failed gender freak, or a degendered subhuman creature. Begging you to shape your transfeminism on the actual experiences of trans people

[opossumanon]

I just got reminded of an experience of mine a year ago now that serves as a pretty good example of the kind of shit trans men, transmascs, and transneutrals often go through.

(Full yap session ahead)

So I'm sitting with my new friends at the same spot in the hallway as always. We aren't exactly a small group. We're all different, but one thing that's obvious is that in the eyes of bullies we're all fucking losers.

So this one group comes up to us and starts to make fun of us. Every fucking day. Like clockwork. They're puny little shitheads who have barely started puberty. Their leader, who was shorter than me, couldn't even say "cavalry" correctly and was pronouncing it as "chavalry" for some fucking reason.

Every day, this kid and his buds come up and try to harass us, often by asking us about gay shit and asking me about my pronouns. Every day, I roast him and the group into oblivion and they sulk away to regroup and come back the next day.

One day, this kid is mad enough about me making him look like a small-dicked loser in front of his friends, that while walking away he calls out at me "I would fight you but I don't know if you're a boy or a girl"

He never acted on the threat thankfully (Probably cuz I literally chucked him out of a classroom), but the point still stands that this fucker and his friends were threatening to attack me for being trans.

This fucker and his friends looked at me, someone they knew had a vagina and tits, but used a deep voice and had short hair, and they couldn't tell if I were a binary tranny, a nonbinary tranny, or an ugly dyke. They wanted to beat me up for it, and also cuz my tranny/dyke self was making them feel emasculated.

This is the kind of shit that trans men, transmascs, and transneutral people put up with more often than some of yall realize.

(To clarify right now NO, I AM NOT SAYING THAT TRANS WOMEN, TRANSFEMS, AND FEMININE CIS WOMEN DON'T GO THROUGH THIS. THEY DO. WE ALL KNOW THIS. I AM SIMPLY POINTING OUT AN EXPERIENCE THAT MASCS, AND NEUTRALS TEND TO HAVE THAT THE REST OF THE COMMUNITY TRIES TO DENY THE EXISTENCE OF)

We're still threatened with violence. Our existence makes perisex cis men uncomfortable, makes perisex cis women disgusted, and makes both scared for one reason or another. The more masculine an "afab" queer person is, the appropriate it is to beat the shit out of them. Because she's a man, right? If she wants to be a guy and wear guy's clothes and speak with a guy's voice, then she can take the fucking beating that we give her, because that's just what guys do.

So transmascs will walk into a queer space and become the emotional punching bag of insecure queers, and then turn around and walk into a cishet space and become the literal punching bag of insecure cishets. We just can't win.

Obviously the queer space is still safer, which is why we're still invading with our disgusting testosterone-filled bodies. But it isn't exactly fun to try and engage with people we see as "like us" (queer) only to be pushed away because we're men, and if we're men we never deal with oppression, right? We can handle violence, cuz that's what men do. As men, it's our job to let the ladies and fems verbally diminish us because they were hurt by men and so they have a right to take out their pain on us. If we don't agree to this, then we're misogynistic pigs, and then "trans men really are the men of the trans community".

Transmascs with functioning uterus' are conveniently left out of abortion rights discussions, and when we try to announce our presence we're told to shut up. Transmascs who are passing are conveniently left out of trans discussions, and when we try to announce our presence we're told that we don't count because we aren't oppressed because we fully pass now. Transmascs who don't pass are conveniently left out of safety discussions, and when we try to announce our presence we're told that we don't count because we pass as cis women, and cis women have more privilege than trans women. (That last one is a real line I've seen on this site btw)

Trying to say "I want acknowledgement" as a transmasc present at a more friendly queer space doesn't result in vitriol, but what happens instead is that there will be a "transgender recognition" night that has maybe one trans man if we're lucky, and then dozens of trans women and more feminine-looking nonbinary people.

I'm gonna cut this post off right here before I accidentally type out a full-blown book of all the gripes I got, but the point is that you can't apply the baby-level radfem idea of "man bad, woman good" to the queer community. It's dumb as fuck in the cishet world, and it's so much worse in lgbt spaces. Literally the point of being queer is to fuck with gender roles. This doesn't just mean everyone is feminine. You can't walk into a queer space and go "men are evil" without it affecting half of the queer population. Trans men aren't attacking trans women by saying "I want to be respected as a human being, please". Trans men aren't trying to trick gay men into fucking them by saying "I want to be respected as a gay man, please". Trans men aren't trying to trick lesbians into fucking them by saying "I want to be respected as a boydyke, please".

If everyone in the community were to take a fraction of the energy and love they dedicate to feminine queers and use it to "reach across the isle" and try to connect with and understand masculine queers, the community as a whole benefits. Also masculine queers deserve to be treated well even if it doesn't give good things to the entire community, cuz we're people too. We deserve decent treatment because we're human. Who woulda thought.

(P.S. I still see the leader of the dumbfuck squad walking around sometimes. He's still shorter than me, but his hair is taller. I swear it looks a little more tall every time I spot him.)