#i hate the thought of someone looking at me and knowing that i’m trans and i hate the thought of telling anyone that i’m trans
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people online act like being trans is such a beautiful wonderful thing and that it’s soooo amazing that you get to become the person you want to be or whatever but i honestly can’t see it as anything but a curse for me in particular
#why do i have to get expensive surgeries and go on hormones just to feel at home in my own body? i shouldn’t have to do that#it hurts. why couldn’t i have just been born a cis guy#people i love aren’t going to take me seriously and so many people want others like me to die. what’s even the point of continuing on#i hate the thought of being an out and proud trans person. i hate the thought of being a trans person at all#i hate the thought of someone looking at me and knowing that i’m trans and i hate the thought of telling anyone that i’m trans#but what i hate even more is people seeing me as a girl. and my only 2 options are ‘be a girl’ or ‘be trans guy’. i don’t want to be either#i feel like nobody actually sees me as a man but as a ‘transman’. as some other category that’s completely different from cis guys#and maybe nobody’s even wrong in seeing me that way but i want to die#it’s not like i see other trans guys like that. i don’t know what’s wrong with me#why does my life have to so much harder than most peoples?? i just want to be normal#sorry this is so stupid and i’ll get over it i just woke up with all the dysphoria i had yesterday and i don’t like myself#dysphoria tw#whateverrrrrrrr#maybe it’ll get better when i transition i don’t know. whenever that happens. if it ever happens. Whatever
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Starting off by saying I hate “mom Danny” bc it tends to be p transphobic and misgendering, so if anyone adds it to my post I’m blocking them.
Tim making his Kon clone baby, but the cloning chamber isn’t stable enough for the fetus. He’s desperately trying anything that he think might work, when he comes across Phantom. Phantom who has experience with stabilizing clones.
Danny had heard whispers through the grapevine (Ellie who’d joined the Teen Titans as Phantasm) that there was someone attempting to make clones. He’d only meant to snoop and see if it was a Vlad situation. If any clones had been made and needed liberating. What he found was a newly minted Red Robin crying over a red blinking message on a cloning chamber. He warbled a quiet “please, Kon, I don’t want to live without you.”
Danny quickly realizing this wasn’t an attempt to replace and destroy, but actually someone grieving, in probably an unhealthy way, but who was Danny to judge, he’d once replaced Sam and Tucker with robots for less. So he decided to help Red Robin out. Sure, he hadn’t dealt with kryptonian dna before, but he was at least 89% sure halfa dna was way more complicated. And Red Robin had already figured out ways around the dna shenanigans, it was just the stability that wasn’t going well. Honestly, he didn’t think it would be as easy as an ecto dejecto like it had been for Ellie. But his parents had a lot of inventions that they’d started making to help out ghosts, once they’d realized Danny was Phantom. Maybe telling Red Robin about ghost IVF wasn’t his most thought through plan.
“I think what might help is an incubator.” Phantom had suggested.
Tim could only gesture at the cloning chambers that had failed him thus far. They were essentially huge incubators.
Phantom awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “I meant, like, a living incubator. Like a surrogate.”
“Where am I going to find someone that I not only trust to carry the baby, but also would volunteer?” Tim raised an eyebrow at him. Hell, had Tim had the equipment to do so, he would have carried the baby, everything else be damned. He just didn’t want to be alone anymore.
Phantom blushed green and looked away. “It might take a little tinkering with the embryos to work with the physiology, but…. I could carry the baby for you. I mean, I’m trans, and even if I wasn’t, ghosts are kind of malleable in a reproductive sense. And there are options for IVF in ghost science. And like, my own clone is like my little sister. I’m also a protection spirit, so I would protect the baby with my entire afterlife. And I’m kind of rambling so you should say something before I embarrass myself.”
“You would be willing to carry a baby for me?” Tim was shell shocked by the offer.
“I mean, yeah. You’re a good guy. You’re not cloning him for a malicious reason. You’re just trying to bring back a piece of your friend because you love and miss him. Dedication that strong for someone who has left the living plain, is admirable. You realized early on that you wouldn’t be able to increase the speed in which the clone grew. You’ve been trying despite knowing that this clone will be a baby that’s going to be your child, and not just the friend you lost. And I wouldn’t mind giving up my body for a little bit so you can make your family.”
Tim certainly hadn’t meant to surge forward and kiss Phantom. “Thank you.” Tim pulled Phantom into a fierce hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
It took about a month for them to work out the kinks of making the baby safe for Danny’s body. In this time, Danny showing Red Robin his human form, and Tim revealing his own identity. It felt kind of wrong to keep his name from someone he intended to get pregnant with his child. Tim and Danny got close as they worked together on the baby. And there may have been a few more kisses shared between them. In the end, the baby ended up spliced with mostly Kon’s dna, some of Tim’s (to stabilize the kryptonian dna), and some of Danny’s (to keep the baby safe in the womb).
Once Danny was well and truly pregnant, he encouraged Tim to find Bruce. “I’ll keep the baby safe. You find your dad. If you need me for anything, I’m only a call away.” Tim hadn’t forgotten about Bruce, he’d just never thought it would take so long to set up cloning Kon. So much of his hurt and loneliness had fallen away in Danny’s presence, and Danny had let him hyper focus on making their baby.
“Probably terrible timing, but I’ve got to ask,” Tim swallowed nervously. “Be my boyfriend?”
Danny’s lopsided smile, thawed Tim’s nerves. “I think I could work with that. I hope you don’t mind kids though, I’m kind of pregnant.”
Tim huffed a laugh. “I’ll keep in touch while I’m away. Please keep me updated on the baby.”
Danny pulled him into a proper kiss, “I will.”
I’m mostly imagining Tim getting bump update photos and falling in love with his increasingly pregnant boyfriend, while he finds Bruce.
I’m also imagining after Bruce is back, Tim being like, “anyways gtg, my boyfriend is in his third trimester and I don’t want to miss the birth of our baby.” And peacing out before any bats could react, let alone stop him.
And also maybe when Kon comes back, there’s maybe a poly relationship started.
Also thinking about Tim getting Danny pregnant without the science.
Danny gets Dad, Tim gets Papa, and if Kon joins, he gets Poppy.
#dead tired#tim x danny#danny x tim#dc x dp#dp x dc crossover#dp x dc#dpxdc#dcxdp#tim drake#Danny phantom#dani phantom#red Robin#kon el kent#conner kent#pregnant Danny#clone baby#Kon el#superboy#robin#dc#dc comics#batman#dc characters#chatonfils writing#I don’t really know where Tim’s cloning attempts fit into the timeline#I need to read the comics and not just fanfic#but I think Danny is probably the best person to go to in the case of destabilized clones#TimKon#timkondanny#superdeadtired
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Dead-Bird
FEM DNI‼️ (She/her, She/they, etc.) - you’ll be blocked.
request: “hihi ! can you write rodrick x ftm reader thats just like , treated as one of the guys in rodricks friend group and has a sense of belonging , then heather outs the reader or something n rodrick stands up for them (???) im not sure where im going with this request u can interpret it however u want”
summary: moving to plainview for a fresh start while you’re transitioning. you meet rodrick heffley, resident emo, and become inseparable. what happens when heather hills gets jealous thats he’s turned all his attention on you?
descriptions: ftm!reader, intended for a black reader but can be read by any race, rodrick might be ooc (??), i made heather really mean (and homophobic 😭) but in reality i have no hate to her HER ACTRESS IS GORGINA, slur drop (f word), maybe the reader a girly kid sorry if that upsets anyone, cursing, throwing up (only happens once and i don’t think it’s detailed), let me know if i missed anything!!
a/n: yall, i know i said friday, but circumstances change (especially when baby siblings are sick asf) so i’m sorry. you’re allowed to yell at me in the comments!! BUT ITS FINALLY HERE‼️ pls let me know if you like it, and if you think i should change anything. i can always improve!!
word count: 8.29k (i got carried away 😭)
———————————————————————————-
For as long as you can remember, you knew you didn’t feel right with who you were. You wore the dresses, the skirts, joined the girls line when you were split off and you were ok with it, but it never felt right. You wanted to get your hands dirty, skin your knee, and you could do all of that with the girls, but you wanted to do it with the boys.
Your parents seemed to acknowledge this and your family just labeled you a tomboy. It wasn’t until your last year of middle school that you realized who you were, what you were. You were a boy, you were trans.
After going back and forth with yourself, you go to your parents with tears streaming down your face. With the way you and your parents were raised, it didn’t seem like they were going to be accepting.
“Are you done blubbering?” Your mom had asked you, which made you cry even more because you didn’t know if that could be good or bad. “We knew this could be a possibility with you just wanting to be with little boys.”
“Just because your grandparents have a skewed perspective on gender doesn’t mean we do.” Your dad joined in with a hand on your shoulder.
And with that started your transition journey. First with therapy, then doctor visits, and finally testosterone. When you started taking testosterone (end of sophomore year), you and your parents moved to give you a fresh start. With their careers, they could work anywhere as long as they could travel.
Plainview was just that, plain, but it got the job done so you can lay low. You couldn’t even point it out on a map, but it seemed like a great place to get a fresh start. Family homes, mom and pop shops, and maybe 6 schools around. No one knows you, seeing as you moved almost cross-country, so perfect.
Your first day wasn’t anything like you imagined. You thought you would be clocked immediately, especially since in the rush to move and get enrolled in school you had forgotten to get your haircut. You lucked out though, because the only reason someone (besides a teacher) came to talk to you was because of your Pearl Jam shirt.
That was the day you met Rodrick Heffley, resident “bad boy” with a band that wasn’t shit (you could say that seeing as you were in it) and a taste for rock and metal. That’s who came to talk about your shirt.
“You listen to Pearl Jam?” He asked, and you were immediately on the defense.
You knew you didn’t exactly look the part of emo metalhead, you had heard it your whole life growing up. “Listen to your normal music,” was a common one, and you won’t lie, it hurt. Especially from the popular white kids because it was just another tally mark against you.
“Yes? What about it?” You snapped.
“Woah, didn’t know I touched a nerve,” his face had reddened a little, but besides that it didn't change. “I was just gonna ask your favorite song.”
“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes. “I like Why Go from the Ten album.”
“Cool, cool, that’s a good one.” And then you both just stood there staring at each other. “Do you want to come over to my house after school?”
“I don’t even know you, kid,” you chuckled, “what are you, a kindergartener?”
“Well excuse me for trying to be nice.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m Rodrick.”
He held out his hand, which you hesitantly shook. “I’m (Y/N).”
“So are you coming over or what?”
And just like that he became one of the most important people in your life– along with his best friends; Drew, Ward, Chris, and Ben. Present day, you are never without Rodrick, and he, you. It doesn’t take a lot to convince the other to do something you probably shouldn’t, which leads to you guys getting in trouble a lot.
Like how one time towards the end of junior year in the middle of the night, Rodrick and you snuck out for a carnival almost 2 hours away. You had been relaxing at home, reading, when you heard little tinks coming from your window. You knew it was Rodrick throwing rocks at your window. He always did that when he’d sneak out of his house to come to yours.
“What the hell do you want?” You jokingly whisper-yelled as you opened your window.
“Come to a fair with me!” He whispered back.
“Last time I checked, the summer fair didn’t come until after school ended?”
“Because it’s not the one in Plainview, it’s the one in Huntington! Just come on!” He groans.
“First of all, I’m in pajamas!” You motioned up and down yourself. “Second of all, that’s almost two hours away!”
“So what, you’ve snuck out with me before! What makes this time any different? Come on, (Y/N), live a little!”
“Fuck it, fine!” and you closed your window to change. Your parents were long gone asleep, so you doubt they’d check on you, meaning you were in the clear.
You settled on baggy pants and a short sleeve, which is what you almost always wear, before you jumped out your window (you were on the second floor, yea, but your house wasn’t that big so it wasn’t a huge jump). Rodrick was waiting in his van, so you climbed into the passenger seat and set off.
You took a mini nap on the way, but after you woke up, you guys didn't shut up. From school to new albums, you talked about it all. You guys always were like this, (still were) even though at this point you’d only known each other a couple months. It scared you a little, how close you two had gotten in such a little period of time, mainly because you don’t want him to drop you because of who you were before.
“We’re here!” He pulled into a parking spot. You both climbed out of the van and met in front of it. “You brought your wallet, right?”
“Hanging with you? Of course not.” You deadpanned, before pulling out your wallet with a smile. “Why would I go to a fair without my wallet?”
He just rolled his eyes, slung his arm around your neck and walked to the ticket booth. Once in the fair, you guys set a plan to leave around 2:00 so you can get back in time for school.
You run around together, ride to ride, concession stand every chance you can get, and then barfing into a trash can. “I will never sneak out with you again.”
“Sure, ok,” Rodrick scoffed. “Come on, I want to ride the ferris wheel before going home!”
“Sure,” you rolled your eyes as you wiped your mouth, “just let me finish tossing my organs into this dumpster.”
“Let's go, smart ass.”
Surprisingly, there wasn’t a long line for the wheel. You’re on it in 5 minutes, and at the top in another 5.
“Told you it was worth it.” Rodrick teased as you looked out to the neon fair lights.
“Yea, yea, whatever,” you mumbled, too busy looking out at the eye widening view.
There’s a moment of silence. “Y’know, I’m glad we met each other.”
“Ew, don’t get all sentimental on me. Especially on a ferris wheel, that's just cringey.” You joke.
“I’m being serious!” He sighs. “Like I love the band, but I think me and you got closer in the span of a few months than me and them since middle school. It’s crazy.”
“Yea, sure, ok, dude,” you look back out to the lights. You couldn’t look him in the eyes because you had this warm feeling in your gut that you couldn’t place.
Rodrick doesn’t allow you to, though, as he grabs your face in one hand to make you look at him. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I want you to say it,” he stares into your eyes, seeming to search for something.
“Say what, jackass?” You feel your face catch on fire in the dark of the night.
“That I’m your best friend.” He looks so serious, and his eyes never leave yours.
“You’re my best friend,” you roll your eyes with a grin, “can you let me go now?”
“We’ll work on it.” He pats the side of your face and then faces the lights outside the wheel.
When you're both off the ferris wheel, you’re headed back home. The car ride home was silent, you in your own head and Rodrick seemed tired. You offered for him to stay over and sleep until school starts, but he declines, knowing his parents will wake him up in the morning.
You pull up to your house but just sit there for a second. “It was a bunch of fun, as always. Til we sneak out again.”
“See ya,” he smiles and lightly punches your shoulder.
“See ya, dude,” and you head to your house.
When you see him pull off, you lightly close your front door. As you turn around, your soul leaves your body.
“I don’t even want to know,” your mom holds her hand up to silence you. “Phone, now.”
You sigh, but do it.
It seemed that’s what happened with Rodrick, too, so for the rest of the school year you and Rodrick could only contact each other at school. He still snuck over, that wasn't going to stop.
You don’t regret leaving with him that night, because you had never had someone willingly be that close to you.
—
Currently, you’re all huddled up in the hot attic that is his room, but it was the only place without younger kids so you don’t complain much.
“Dude, I thought this year was gonna be it!” Rodrick complains as he lays upside down on his bed.
“Oh, it’s gonna be it, alright,” Ben rolls his eyes and throws a paper ball in Rodricks direction. “It’s going to be the year I finally strangle you if you mention Heather Hills one more time.” We all chuckle at how true it was.
Right now, he wouldn’t shut the fuck up about Heather Hills. Even though you had come in the middle of junior year, it was quick knowledge that he had a crush on her since middle school. At first it was cute, but after some unforeseen circumstances, you actually hated hearing her name. It wasn’t like you had a crush on him (It was), but the fact that she didn’t give him the time of day, and even when she did it was just to make fun of him or to have him do something.
“I second that, it’s fucking annoying,” you push him off the bed, seeing as you were on it right next to him.
“Ow, you dick!” he sits up and rubs his head.
“We’re, like, four months from graduating, if she wanted you, she would’ve said it.”
“Yea but-” Ward cuts him off.
“But nothing, bro, she don’t want your ass.”
It’s what you’ve been telling him this whole time, but you didn’t want to be too pressed about it because you didn’t want him to think you like her. You didn’t like her, you liked the one who liked her. You hadn’t realized it until you saw Heather sweetening him up one time and it hurt to watch– and not in a disgusted way.
You had no idea about your sexuality, you knew you liked boys even before you transitioned, but as you became more comfortable with yourself girls weren’t so bad either. You had been on a few dates with mostly girls (there weren’t many out guys in a small town, who knew?), but no one was Rodrick.
“I mean, I know, subconsciously,” he points to his head, “but she has this way of being in your head, no matter how mean she is.”
“Blah blah blah, bruh we don’t caaaarreee!” You roll your eyes and fall back on his bed. “She’s probably going to, like, Harvard or some shit and gonna marry rich. She doesn’t have time for loser guys like ourselves unless we can do something for her. It’s been that way since middle school, and it’ll be that way til the end of time”
“Major harsh, dude,” Drew pipes up.
“Whatever,” You get up and grab your backpack. “I’m going home, see you bozos tomorrow.”
You know why it bothers you so much, but you didn’t think you went that far. Hell, even Ward said something, but you were the one who was being “major harsh”? You roll your eyes as you stomp off to your house.
“Major harsh, my ass,” you murmur to yourself.
—
Tomorrow comes faster than you’d like. It wasn’t like you blew up on the guys, but you were pissed that you had been shut down. You kind of wanted to avoid them and go straight to class, but when you exit your house you see Rodricks van. The ride to school was pretty quiet except for the “good morning,” you all exchanged amongst yourselves.
“You were right,” Rodrick nudges you. When you give him a confused look, he goes on, “Heather is never gonna want me, and I’m taking myself off the market for other babes.”
“Oh, all those poor girls, saved,” you chuckle. Now you kind of feel bad, “but seriously, my bad if I went too far with what I was saying. I don’t have an excuse for what I said, but I am sorry.”
“Nah, I needed that good kick in the ass so I could wake up. Thanks, bro.” He playfully punches your shoulder.
“No problem, bro.”
As we pull up to school, you see Heather and her friends around their red convertible bug. You didn’t know whose it was, it was passed around more than a blunt in your group. Every morning they were there, and every morning Rodrick went to talk to them, talk to her, like clockwork.
“So are we skipping today, boys?” Rodrick suggests.
In a unison of ‘Hell Yea’s, you were the voice of reason. “Fuck no.”
They all groan, as they usually do when you’re right. We’re walking away from the van as you explain, “Y’all don’t have enough brain cells or credits to afford to skip. If yall want to blow this place, ya gotta graduate. You don’t even have to have honors.”
“Whatever, nerd,” Rodrick shoves you with a chuckle. “You can be a suck up and stay all day, but we’re outta here.”
“You can suck up on my balls, jackass,” you laugh and shove him back.
“You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” he shoves back.
“You’d love that!” but you don’t push him, you look in front of you.
You expected to see the red car, but you saw the stairs. You had passed the car?
You look behind you, and you still see the group talking about someone cheating on someone’s boyfriend, but you notice Heather Hills looking at you.
This wasn’t the first time Rodrick had ignored Heather for you, but that was at lunch. He always talked to her in the morning. You don’t know why, but you knew that this was her last straw.
When you had first moved here, you weren’t on her radar until you had talked to him. She was just standing off to the side and you didn’t realize it then, but he was just talking to her and stopped to talk to you. You could feel her glare, but when you looked at her she gave you a sugary sweet smile. That wasn’t the last time you would see that fake smile, but after this morning you knew it would be.
—
“I don’t know what you told him, but you need to untell him.”
The voice wasn’t unfamiliar to you, but you weren’t used to it being directed at you.
“Hi, Heather, how are you on this beautiful day?” You smile at her, though it was probably closer to a grimace.
“Cut the shit, you heard me.” She growls as you put your stuff in your locker.
“Why does it have to be me saying anything to him? Maybe he actually grew some balls and a brain.”
“You’re like a lost puppy around him, of course you said something.”
“Well, Heather,” you huff as you drop your bag and face her, “he used to follow you around like a lost puppy and I got sick of it because you were using him. I don’t know why it bothered me so much, but it did, so I told him that.”
“I know why,” she leans closer to your face with a whisper. “It’s because you’re a gay little bitch who hopes he looks in your direction but he wouldn’t even spit near you. I see how you look at him, but just remember he looks at me like that.”
“Ok,” you roll your eyes. “Why do you care so much? You admitted several times that you don’t like him.”
“He needs to like me, not the other way around. It gives other guys the idea that they can be with me and I can get gifts out of it. So if you don’t fix this, I can get so much dirt on you it’d make your head spin.”
“I think the bleach fumes are finally getting to your brain,” you scoff, trying not to seem nervous. You didn’t think that she could get to your secret, but that bitch has power in high places. But you had come so far without being outed, so you didn’t think it’d happen this close to your escape. “I don’t know what to tell you. I’m not gonna do that because you’re a bitch who doesn’t deserve any attention.”
She slams your locker in your face, “You’ll regret that.” And as she walks away you roll your eyes and mumble a “bitch”.
She doesn’t even want him, but I can’t have him? Whatever, bitch.
—
You decided to keep your little interaction from Rodrick and the gang because you knew it’d open up a) what she could find on you and b) did Heather actually like Rodrick and she’s lying? You just let them lead the conversation as you try to rationalize with yourself.
How would she find out your trans? You’ve been stealth for a year and your school medical records are locked up tight. She can’t out anything but you being gay and even that was a little chest tightening. At least you’ll still be a man, even if it was a gay one. Being outed as trans could shatter people’s perception of you and you’ll be that weird “girl” again.
“What are you thinking so hard about?” Rodrick asks you and you realize you’re the only two in the van now.
“Nothing, just exhausted. I need to be asleep right now,” you pretend to rub your eyes.
“Whatever you say, dude,” he sighs, but puts his hand on your shoulder and looks you in the eyes. “I’m here whenever you wanna talk, you seem to have a lot on your mind.”
It makes you freeze. It’s not like he isn’t always like this, he’s your best friend, but it doesn’t help after your conversation with Heather. He does this with every guy in the group, he may put on a front of being a dick to his brother, Greg, but he really cares for his friends. You have to convince yourself that this was just that, nothing more.
“Eyes on the road, weirdo,” you shrug his arm off with a nervous laugh. “I told you I was fine, I’m just tired.”
“Ok, dude,” he rolls his eyes.
Before you know it, he drops the rest of the guys off at their houses. You’re usually the last one to get dropped off since more often than not you’re the first one to be picked up. But when Rodrick passes your house, you have more than a few questions.
“Where the hell are you taking me?” You sigh.
“Obviously you won’t tell me what’s actually wrong, so we’re going to hang out til that frown turns upside down!” He smiles as he passes his house, too.
“How did I become friends with such a cornball? Aren’t you supposed to be the resident bad boy, go back to that.”
“You know you love me,” he smirks.
More than you know, that’s the reason I’m in this mess! You almost say, but stick with, “Sure, whatever you say.”
You know exactly what he’s going to do, you guys do it every time one of y’all are going through it. Head to the gas station to get slushies and snacks, then go out to your favorite clearing in the woods. He even does it with Greg sometimes, even though he likes to act like he hates his younger brothers.
“Isn’t the point of a slushy to mix all of the flavors together?” Rodrick rolls his eyes.
“We have this conversation every time we come here, I get two flavors that compliment each other! All of those flavors confuse your mouth and you lose taste buds.”
“You lie just like my mother, which means you lie like shit.” And for that you slap his shoulder. “OW!”
“Don’t talk about Susan like that!” You say, jokingly offended. You go to hit him again, but he grabs your hand.
“You’re a fucking nut case.”
“OMG!” You hear an all too familiar voice excitedly yelp. “I thought I heard your voice!”
“Oh, hey Heather.” Rodick turns to talk to her, forgetting to let go of your hand. “What are you doing in here?”
“My friends wanted to stop in here to get some junk.” She waves her hand behind her and rolls her eyes. “I obviously don’t eat stuff like that, I mean, look at me.” Rodrick doesn’t even glance down when she motions at herself.
“Good for you, me and (Y/N) are actually in here for some snacks, too.”
She finally looks at you, and then at you and Rodricks combined hands. You squirm under her stare and take your hand out of Rodricks. He looks at you in seeming confusion, but doesn’t say anything.
“I didn’t see you there, hey (Y/N)!” She has a smile on her face, but you can see in her eyes the amount of hatred she has for you.
“Hey, Heather…” You almost whisper, and then turn to seem busy with your slushy.
“Well, we should get out of here, bye Heather.”
“Oh, yeah, I think my friends went back to the car, so I should head out, too.” She turns to leave, but looks back over her shoulder and waves seductively. “Bye, Rodrick!”
When you hear the front door bell ring, you finally release the breath you had been holding in. “Holy shit,” you whisper to yourself.
“What was that?” Rodrick turns to you with a smile and points behind him. “She’s never willingly came up to me unless she needs something. And she just wanted…conversation?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” You paint on a smirk even though your heart is racing. She had seen you with Rodrick, holding hands (completely his fault!), and he couldn’t be any less interested in her! You just know your fate is sealed.
“Well, let’s get this shit paid for and go.” He grabs up your food and you grab the slushies.
With everything paid for, you guys hop back into the van and head into the trail a few blocks down. It wasn’t anything official, but you hadn’t gotten in trouble for being out here, so yall just kept going.
You park the van and head into the back, opening the doors for some fresh air.
“So are you ready to tell me what’s up?” Rodrick asks after a few sips of his slushy abomination.
“I told you that I’m just exhausted.” You keep up your front.
“And I told you that you lie like my mom,” he sighs. “So you might as well just spill it.”
“It’s just something that me and my family have to deal with, you don’t have to worry about it!” You know if you bring your family into it, he’ll stop pushing it because he knows your parents don’t play.
“Ok, ok, I’ll let it go.” He raises his hand in defense.
You don’t respond, and you guys are submerged into silence once again. You exchange looks when you don’t think the other is looking, but besides that you take in the forest around you.
Heather could never experience these moments with Rodrick and understand how precious it is. Rodrick has always been the weird “bad boy” (people literally only say this because of his clothes and that makes you roll your eyes) who some of the girls wanted but if it got out they did like him, they’d be made fun of. You see how some of the girls look at him when he isn’t looking, and it hurts your heart. You know they have more of a chance than you ever would.
But with you, he was never like this. He was the goofy, caring friend who’d drop everything if you said the word. Heather only sees him as an object that gives her affection, but you see him as he truly is; a guy who loves and just wants it back. He just wants to be seen.
“Y’know you’re my best friend, right?” You blurt before you can think about it.
“Only took you a year to be genuine about it,” he nudges your shoulder.
“What?”
“The ferris wheel.” He states like you’re just supposed to know. And you do.
“You still remember that?” You gape.
“Anyway, yes I am your best friend, just like how you’re mine.” He grins at you, and then he drops it, “you’re not planning anything are you?”
“Oh my god, a guy can’t express his appreciation for his best friend?” You throw your hands up.
“I’m watching you,” he squints his eyes and points at you.
You get a text from your mom wondering where you are, and that’s the end of your little outing with Rodrick.
When he drops you home, Heather is the furthest thing from your mind, even though you know holding Rodricks hand (even though it wasn’t even purposely!) would be a slight against you.
—
Over the next two weeks, Heather's empty threat went to the back burner of your mind. If she wanted to out you, it would’ve happened by now. I’m safe, you sighed in relief.
Rodrick continued not to go up to her in the morning, but if she talked to him he definitely talked back. It seemed to calm her attitude toward you now, but it still was a hot seat around her. Like now, she’s passing around flyers for her party this weekend and intentionally passed by you.
“Rodrick, you’re definitely coming to my party this weekend, right?” She bats her eyelashes. “I need your band Soiled Diper to play!”
“It’s Löded Diper,” you correct and she glares at you, “and when have you ever wanted us to play anywhere near you?”
“Us?” She scoffs at you. “I just want the main band, not some wannabe.”
“Woah,” Rodrick stops her. “(Y/N) is an actual part of the band, so no him, no band.”
“Him? If that’s what you wanna say, sure.” And to the untrained ear it could just be her upset that he isn’t going along to exclude you, but you know what she means. As you perk up and look in her eyes, she’s already looking at you with a knowing smirk.
She knows. FUCK how does she know?
“I’m fine with not going, Rod,” you try to sway him. This cannot be fucking happening.
“No, it’s either all of us or none of us.”
Of course now he wants to be a fucking hero right now. He doesn’t get that this is social suicide FOR ME! Social homicide? Not important right now.
“Ok,” she has that sugary sweet fake smile. “Don’t come, then. Remember what I said.”
That last part was for you, you know it, and your blood runs cold. Fuck.
The rest of the day you’re on the edge of your seat, thinking what she might do. How the fuck did she even find out? You weren’t on social media much pre-transition, so barely any photos of you before exist. And like you said, your medical records were locked up tight.
Whatever, you try to convince yourself. She won’t do anything! She would’ve already.
You make it home with no one running around talking about your biggest secret, so your anxiety has allowed you to breathe again.
You decide to finally talk to your mom about this because who else will understand?
“You’re right to be afraid, but you’re also right about her doing it when she finally found something on you.” Your mom rubs your hair as you lay in her lap.
“It’s like I can’t get into her mind and I seriously want to. Like what is she planning?” Your thoughts literally won’t shut up. You haven’t had to worry about stuff like this for close to 2 years, and now its like your whole world is about to collapse
“For her sake, I hope nothing because I’m not above beating a little girl's ass!” And you know she’s being for real. Your mom doesn’t play around.
“Mom,” you roll your eyes.
“So, she thinks you like Rodrick…What’s up with that?”
“You know the answer if you’re asking,” you sigh.
“Do you want any advice on that? I say you should go for it.” Your mom shrugs.
“Absolutely not, because if this does come out I don’t want him weirded out by me being trans and gay.” You don’t even know if you are gay gay, but you know it’d make you that if you ask him out.
“I think you’re safe, but if something does blow, I’m in your corner.” She holds up her fist playfully to show it.
“Thank you, Mom.” You finally felt at peace with the whole thing. You trust your mom and feel like it will all blow over.
If only you knew.
The next morning, you walk with a pep in your step. You decide to walk to school, texting Rodrick you didn’t need a ride. It took a little longer to walk than drive, so you knew they’d beat you there.
When you finally showed up, people were staring at you, but it didn’t bother you much. People looked at you and the gang weirdly all the time, it just happened. It was when you finally made your way inside that all hell broke loose.
Random whispers were rampant through the hall, but when you walked by it would stop. Whatever, they were probably just talking about what you were wearing like always. You shrugged and went to find the guys.
You were right in front of them in the cafeteria and about to speak when that sugary voice stopped you, “Hey, [Redacted]!” It exclaimed.
You could’ve thrown up right then and there. You whip around to face Heather, “What the hell did you just call me?”
“Should I tell her or are you guys going to be good friends?”
“Guys, what is she talking about?” You turn to them and the look on their faces say it all.
They Know. Everyone knows.
Ben turns his phone around and you have to will yourself to not spill your breakfast out onto the concrete. It’s a screenshot from one of your parents' private Facebooks from two or three years ago with a title that stated your deadname.
The “girl” in the picture was going to homecoming, and it was obvious that it was you. Your face was softer, caked with makeup, and your hair was longer. The caption had your name and said that you were indeed going to homecoming.
“This picture was private, how the fuck?” You were whispering to yourself. You’re frozen in place, you can’t look anywhere but Ben’s phone.
“How could you hide this from your friends?” Heather fake gasps. “Pretending to be a boy? Going into the boys bathroom and locker room? What a freak!” and her whole group laughs. When you didn’t respond, she kept going, “Like, can you guys believe it? She’s pretending to be a boy to get close to you, and I even heard she had a little crush on one of you!”
That made you bark out a sob. Holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit holy-
“It’s crazy! Right, Rodrick?” and that snaps you out of it.
You glance at him, and he looks angry. Probably at you for lying to him. You darted away, looking for an exit because all you can think about is going home. You hear your name called after you, but you don’t care.
—
“What the hell are you doing home? Classes literally just started.” Your mom asks as she’s cuddled up with your dad. You don’t answer her, and just run up to your room, sobbing.
“Woah, woah woah, hey!” They get up to go after you.
When you get to your room, you don’t close your door knowing they’re after you. You shut your phone down and just throw yourself onto your bed, trying to stop your tears.
“Son, what’s wrong? What happened at school?” My dad knocks on the open door.
“Heather Hills,” you say through your pillow. Even if your dad didn’t get it, your mom did.
“She didn’t…”
“She did though, Mom!” You cry out, turning to face them. “She outed me to the whole school! She somehow found one of your Facebooks, got into it and found an old picture of me going to homecoming, and she shared it with the whole school!”
“Are you serious?” Your dad balls up his fist.
“Not only that, but she said that I was pretending to be a guy! Said I was doing it to get close to Rodrick, basically told him I liked him, and made me seem like this big ass weirdo!”
“We need to do something about this,” your mom says, and she sounds pissed. “This has to be some sort of harassment!”
“Your mother is right, we need to contact the school-”
“NO, please,” you start. “What’s done is done, I don’t want this bigger than it is!”
“(Y/N)!-”
“Mom, please listen to me!” You’re exasperated at this point. “Heather has the whole school behind her. Her parents are RICH, so if we try to do anything, it’ll just make everything worse!”
“I don’t give a fuck about her parents! She hurt my baby and she needs to be held accountable!”
“I don’t want to be in the middle of any more drama!” You groan. “I just want to figure this out quietly and on my own. I don’t want to talk to anyone about it and I just want to be left alone!”
“Ok, ok,” your dad sighs and puts a hand on your head. “If that’s what you want, we won’t push it,” he turns to your mom, “won’t we?”
“Yea, I guess,” she rolls her eyes, but gives a weak smile. “But at any point you need any help or she does anything else, we’re in your corner.”
“Thank you for understanding.”
“Get some rest, son,” your dad pats your shoulder. “You look like you need it.”
“I’ll try.”
But you knew you weren’t going to be able to sleep. You avoid your phone because you didn’t want to be contacted by anyone, but especially Rodrick. You didn’t want to know his disgust with you, didn’t want to know how much he thought that Heather was right.
Without the distraction of your phone, your room and the house was too quiet. You could hear your parents downstairs, trying not to be angry about your situation and watching television. Your mind keeps replaying you looking at Ben’s phone, ears ringing in anger and worry. You’re so horrified, afraid you’ve lost all of your friends. You were supposed to graduate without anyone finding out. What was the point of a fresh start if you were just gonna have to deal with all that you wanted to avoid at your old home?
You hear someone knock on your front door, and even being that far away from it you heard Rodricks voice. This time you can’t stop your stomach from lurching and you run to the bathroom.
As you flush the toilet, you hear the door close and footsteps up the stairs. That makes you pray on the bathroom floor to anything that could hear you to not make you talk to him yet.
“Hey, baby, you alright?” Your mom’s voice fills you with relief and seems to calm your stomach.
“No,” you say truthfully. You didn’t feel like lying right now, “I feel like everything is over for me.”
“You heard him, didn’t you?”
“Not what he said, but I heard his voice,” you admit.
“Then I think you should answer your phone.” And with that, she leads you back to your room, kisses your forehead, and goes back downstairs.
—
You don’t turn your phone back on until the next day. You still felt sick, and no matter how much you tried to eat you just couldn’t. You stayed home from school and your parents didn’t argue, but they still had to go out for work. Not a full trip, but they had to go to the next town over.
You had less messages than you thought you would, but it’s still crazy. Drew, Ward, Chris, Ben, and even Bill messaged you, but you didn’t care about all of them because one name caught your eye. Rodrick.
It was four messages; are you home??, answer me!, i’m coming over. were the first three, but the last message was a video.
It starts staring at the floor, and then it’s pointed to a group of people. You can make out you, the gang, and Heather behind you. You take off running, but the recording doesn’t stop there.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Rodrick stands up and gets in Heather's face.
“What?” she laughs in disbelief.
“You heard what I said!”
“Are you seriously defending her over me? I thought you liked me?!” You can hear the fakeness in her voice.
“That was before you decided to spread lies about my friend! He has done nothing to you!” the emphasis on the “he” makes your eyes widen. “You’re gonna stop talking shit about my best friend to my face! You’re such a fake bitch! I don’t know how I ever liked you…”
“Don’t tell me you’re seriously picking her over me? You must be more homo than her to like that wannabe boy.”
“Are you fucking serious?” The rest of the guys pipe up and start to surround Heather.
“He is a guy, and if you think anything other than it, you must be stupider than I thought,” Ben steps up.
“And so what if I like him? Just know I don’t like you, not anymore.” Rodrick is the angriest you’ve ever seen him, it’s kind of hot scary.
“Whatever, you’re all just losers. Lets go,” she turns and walks off with her crew.
That’s where the video ends.
You couldn’t stop rewatching it in amazement. He had stood up to Heather Hills for you without hesitation. Had said he liked you to Heather Hills. To basically the entire school, if this video has already gone around.
You debate whether or not you wanted to talk to him, but your need for your best friend wins over your need to hide. You slip on your shoes and head out.
You live a little over 5 minutes away from Rodrick even though he drives you guys everywhere. You know you could’ve told him to come over to your house, but it’s nice to finally get some fresh air. Plus, his mom was always nice to see when you went over his house.
When you get there, you see his van parked in the driveway near the garage. You have to hype yourself up to knock on the front door, but once you do it’s like a wave of nausea comes crashing over you.
I can’t do this, oh my god. What have I-
Before you can finish your thoughts, the door opens. You half expect it to be Rodrick, but it’s just Greg.
“Hey, kid.” You do a little wave as if you haven’t met him before. Whenever you come over, you tend to see Greg and Rowley, too. Most of the time they’re just in the living room, but they sometimes come up to the attic just to get chewed out by Rodrick, especially when it’s just you two up there.
“Hey, (Y/N),” he smiles, “where’ve you been?”
“Yknow.” You wring your hands. “Around.”
You can barely get words out. Does Greg know? Did Rodrick tell his family about what his best friend is?
“Rodrick should be upstairs in his room.” Greg moves out of the way so you can step into the house. “He’s been moping up there since yesterday, I don’t even think he’s left it today.”
“He didn’t go to school?” It’s not surprising, he’s always skipping, but you know it’s because of what went down yesterday.
“Nope,” Greg shakes his head. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you guys, because he only acts like this when he can’t see you, but I think you guys will work it out. It’s like me and Rowley, just less romantical.”
“W-what-” you sputter out. “I don’t-”
“Sure, whatever you want to tell yourself.” Greg cuts you off with an eye roll. “Like I said, he’s upstairs.”
“Thanks, kid.” Your face is on fire.
And with that, you mount the stairs to the attic. Is your crush on Rodrick really that obvious that even his family can see it? And with the way Greg was talking it seems to be reciprocated. You heard it come out of Rodrick’s own mouth, but what if he just said that so Heather could leave you alone?
You’re in front of his door before you can finish your thoughts. You knock, ready to get this over with.
“Mom, I told you I’ll be ok, just leave me alone!” You hear him call out.
“Not your mom, last time I checked.” You say, a soft smile grows on your face from hearing his voice.
You hear him leap up off of his bed and trip over something, but it doesn’t seem to phase him as he runs to open the door.
“(Y/N),” he breathes out.
“Hey,” you can barely look him in the face. “Can I come in?”
“Yea, yea, come in!” He pulls you through the door.
Once in his room, it’s like you’ve never set foot in it. You don’t know what to do, where to sit. It all feels new to you for some reason.
“Dude, just sit down somewhere.” Rodrick laughs at your newfound confusion.
You decide to sit on his bed, which you do every time you come over. You and Rodrick always sit on opposite ends of the bed so you can look at each other, which this time is no different.
You just sit there, staring at each other. You decide to break the ice. “It’s true, all of it. I don’t know how Heather got that picture, but I was a girl for most of my life up until now. Please, don’t hate me.”
“I’m not going to lie, it made me mad that I had to find out through Heather Hills,” he sighs, “but then again it’s none of my business. You were doing it to protect yourself, so I get it and I don’t have a right to be mad. I could never hate you over something like that though.”
You just sit there with your mouth open. You knew subconsciously that he couldn’t have hated you, but you had grown up hearing all the hatred people had for people like you. You had no choice to be on the defense when coming over here, no matter what you heard.
“I just-” You start. “I just, I know you’re my best friend, and I should’ve trusted you with this, but I couldn’t. I’ve never had anyone but my parents know. Their families don’t even know, that’s the whole reason we moved here.”
“Would you have ever told me?” He asks, kind of quiet.
“Maybe.” You shrug honestly. “I was too worried about trying to survive high school without a slip up to think that far ahead.”
“Oh,” is all he answers.
It’s another drowning silence. You’ve never had an awkward silence in your entire friendship, this is freaking you out.
“Did you watch the video I sent you?” Rodrick speaks up.
“Yea, it was the first thing I saw when I turned my phone back on.” Another beat of silence. “It was the only reason I came over here to talk to you.”
“Did you watch the whole thing?”
“Only a hundred times,” you smile evilly. “I love watching that barbie wannabe get put in her place.”
“Yea, that was great to do,” his voice lowers, “but that’s not what I was talking about.”
“I know.” You whisper and look him in the eyes.
You just sit there staring at each other, and then Rodrick looks down at your lips. It was so quick you could’ve missed it if you blinked, but you saw it. Just go for it.
“Are you going to kiss me, or just think about it?” You try to sound confident, but it ends up a quiet squeak.
His eyes widen, but he begins to inch over to you until you’re pressed up against each other. “Is this okay?” His whisper tickles your lips.
You just nod, eyes never leaving his. You don’t know who leans in first, but your lips are together in a flash. Your grip on his shirt is tight, as if when you let go it’ll all disappear. Your mouths almost move in unison, like you’re trying to devour the other. You can barely breath, feeling like this isn’t real. You dreamed about this moment for so long and now that it’s here it’s like you’re ascending.
You are the one who pulls away first, needing to breathe. Rodrick doesn’t seem like he wants to stop, kissing down your jaw to your neck. While you're breathing softly, you hear a knock at his door. That doesn’t stop Rodrick though.
“Rodrick,” you breath out as a warning.
“Hm,” he hums indifferently. Before you both know it, his door opens.
“Rodrick, you need to leave this- OH MY GOD!” His mother screams out.
“MOM!” Rodrick jumps away from you in fear and shock.
You’re all just stuck looking at both of them staring at each other before you break the silence.
“Hey, Ms. Susan…”
After that you are put through a lecture with his mom and dad. You guys can’t be upstairs alone without Greg being a buffer, door open at all times even with the other guys there. They, of course, texted your parents about what they found so that's gonna be fun to go home to. But you felt like none of that mattered because you got what you wanted. You didn’t lose your friends, and you even gained a boyfriend.
He offers to drive you home, which you take because you want to be close to him for a little longer. So you wave goodbye to his parents and get into the van.
You hold hands on the way to your house.
—
“We’re glad you decided to come back to school,” Rodrick squeezes your hand. “It’s been so boring.”
“First of all, I was gone one day,” you roll your eyes in fake annoyance. “And second of all, you literally didn’t even go yesterday!”
“But it’s always boring whenever I don’t get to see you, baby.” He wiggles his shoulders against yours.
All the guys groan in fake disgust. “Yall are so corny, break up already.” Ben gags.
“I didn’t even say anything!” You throw your hands up, taking one of Rodricks hands with you.
“Cringe by association.” And you roll your eyes in true annoyance.
“Are you sure you’re ready to go back?” Rodrick interrupts. “We could just go back to your house and hang out for the day.”
“I’m sure you’d love that,” you shove his arm, “but if I keep skipping, it’ll be like she won. Plus I’m not losing my straight A streak because of that bimbo.”
“Fine,” he huffs. “I can’t wait for the last day, school is so boring.”
“I thought without me it was boring?” You raise an eyebrow.
“You know what I mean.” He kisses your cheek.
“Yuck,” one of the guys laughs out behind your back.
“Shut the fuck up so we can get this day over with.” You flip them off.
You’re, of course, joking because you know you couldn’t have gone through this without them. After your talk with Rodrick, you all had a group hangout and talked through all of this. They let you know the whole time that they were 100% on your side. They were your boys and you were theirs.
Maybe the rest of the year won't be hell. You got the guy, smited the girl, and even if you were outed, you had all the friends you needed with you already. You were going to be fine.
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Could you explain what being detrans is to me? I can’t find anything besides terf bullshit on the matter. I’m probably looking at it incorrectly but I genuinely don’t understand how someone could fake their gender for years and randomly decide to switch back, from my perspective as someone who’s known their (trans)gender identity since toddlerhood.
hello! yes i can!
detrans people are not "faking" their gender during the time they are transitioning. generally speaking, what happens is a person who thought transition was right for them finds out it is not. not every person who wants to transition or takes HRT finds out that it's right for them- there's no way to predict the changes that come with HRT, even if you're familiar with its effects. hormones affect everyone differently, and maybe someone starts undergoing HRT only to find out that it does not give them the effects its looking for.
many people socially transition and find that they do not being addressed the way they thought they would. many folks find that dressing, sounding and acting certain ways just aren't for them. again, nobody can predict what will happen during transition, and nobody can predict exactly how they would feel if they are seen or addressed by a certain way. sometimes transitioning to a gender that doesn't suit them makes them find an appreciation for another gender that they perhaps previously felt dysphoric or neutral about
many detrans people are actually still trans- many of which being nonbinary, genderqueer, genderfluid, multigender, and more. there are so many reasons why someone may transition, some people even detransition to avoid transphobia. some people transition in very transphobic areas and find the pressure too much, and go back to being stealth or closeted. try not to assume that the person is "faking" anything- it feels real to them at the time. just because someone changes their mind does not mean they were faking anything
identity can and does change. i didn't know i was trans until i was 18 or 19 year old. not everyone figures out they're trans during childhood. i had to be told what the word transgender even was at my local college's pride group. i had never heard it before. this doesn't make me any less of a trans person, nor anyone else. detrans people are human just like anyone else. just because someone doesn't figure out their identity right away doesn't mean they're faking anything. just because someone changes their mind after finding out something wasn't right for them doesn't mean they were faking
there is nothing wrong with being detrans. the terves you see online are a small, vocal minority. in reality, i know many detrans people who are still trans or gender non conforming, way more than i've ever met who have detransitioned and become hateful towards trans folk. the topic deserves to be approached with grace, kindness and respect- it may be worth reading into these subreddits, as opposed to using tumblr for this one. these two subs do not allow transphobia, terf or gender critical ideologies:
r/detransition_support
r/actual_detrans
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OKAY BEAR WITH ME Y’ALL. I HAVEN’T PLAYED THE GAME SO I’M JUST GOING OFF OF SOME TIRED OLD MAN TROPES.
FRANCIS MOSES x READER
also, i haven’t written down any of my rules, but i don’t have any limits! i’ll write whatever requests people send me! whatever your dark mind can think of will be my pleasure to create!
i don’t mind if you’re not 18+, since, if i ever do make smut i’ll just label it as 18+ and TRUST that 18+ ONLY will read. you all have probably seen, but i’ve just written about my thoughts of different fandoms so far so there’s no 18+ posts YET. (maybe i’ll make this account SFW and do another for NSFW? idk, i normally post on other platforms but randomly decided to give tumblr a try lol)
as a NM/trans man myself, i TRY to keep my readers gender neutral by not really describing the characters features. hard on TRY bc i know the last blurb fic i made of dead plate was Rody x Male Reader lol, oopsies! anywhooo, enjoy~!
WARNINGS! doppleganger mention, possible unconsciousness, possible death, possible unfunny dialogue (bc sometimes i’m the only one who finds me hilarious lmfao), you’re kinda a baddie ngl, you and Francis are besties, Francis is a cat lover?! Francis is a tired old man who hates technology. phone mentioned despite the first wireless phone being made 23 years after the story takes place (use your imagination) uhhh, anything else i forget? comment below!
Francis let out a long sigh of relief, taking his cap off with one hand, using the other to dab away at his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief. Upon seeing the exhausted man, you can’t help but smile softly, shaking your head as you get ready to scold him, once again. You cross your arms, looking at him through the window with a playful disappointed glare.
“mhm mhm, what do we have here? you really should be getting more sleep, mr. milkman, your eyes are starting to sport their own eye bags.”
with this comment, Francis shakes his head but is unable to stop the small, yet tired smile on his face. he bends down to place the crate of milk jugs onto the floor before handing over his ID card. you hum, narrowing your eyes when Francis doesn’t give into your whims. you eye his card, glancing at it a few times before slipping it back to him with a chuckle.
Francis’s eyebrow raises in confusion at your reaction but ends up shaking his head, rolling his eyes playfully and sighing softly. he places his cap back on his head and huffs, deeming your reaction as a go ahead inside.
“now… what if i was a doppelganger? you aren’t even going to call my room to check if someone is there? such a reliable doorman we have.”
despite Francis’s playful tone, your grin slips into a frown as you study Francis from behind the glass. this causes him to tense up, suddenly feeling nervous, like he did something wrong. you hum, tilting your head into your palm as you seemingly analyze Francis for a little while before deciding to speak.
“what’s up brother?”
Francis blinks a few times in surprise, his head tilting in confusion at your question. His eyes narrow as he thinks about the question you asked.
“what’s… up… brother…?”
Francis looks up at the ceiling, taking your question to heart. upon seeing nothing on the ceiling, Francis can only shake his head and sigh at your antics.
“are you done with your tomfoolery, (Y/n)? i’m quite exhausted and would like to go up to my room and rest.”
you can only shake your head, clasping your hands together like a disappointed father getting ready to discuss their kids grades at the dinner table. you begin to explain.
“when Francis first walks in here, he always forgets one of three things… his keys, his hat or the crate of milk. you came in here, although exhausted, you seemed put together, unlike Francis, who is clearly going through a midlife crisis. Francis will then ask me about my cat, well, because he’s a cat person, though he insists no one knows. oh, and, Francis’s home phone has been broken for the past few days and is actually at the store, right now. so, Francis being here so soon, isn’t possible. that, and well, Francis never understands my references, but indulges me anyway… anything else i forgot, doppelganger?”
you bat your eyelashes, smirking from behind the window like you just cracked down the traitor in your group. with each statement, Francis’s doppelgänger’s face becomes visibly more and more angry until the doppelganger begins to completely change: black eyes with white pupils, a wide and eerie black mouth, adorned with long and sharp claws on the end of the doppleganger’s elongated limbs.
“you… you’ll regret this… i will get in one day and get my feast, starting with you. i’ll gut you, keep you alive so you can watch your organs fall out of your body and your blood splatter against-! *CLANK! BAM! PLINK!*”
before the doppelganger could finish his fantasy, much to your amusement, the doppleganger’s body tenses upon being struck before crumpling to the floor after becoming unconscious. you look up from the doppleganger’s body to see the real Francis hovering above the, possibly dead, doppelganger. you shrug, knowing that you wouldn’t have to call DDD services to take care of the mess, now you just have to clean up the body.
“mmm… tuesday… tuesday…? did i get that right?”
you hold back a chuckle at Francis’s response to your last question. you can only nod, letting Francis have the win this time. pinching the bridge of your nose and sighing, a loud laugh bubbles up from your throat as the two of you realized what Francis had hit the doppelganger with.
“ngh… i just bought this phone… damnit… his hard head must have broke it, ah, if i bring it back could i get a… refund…?”
#tnmn#tnmn milkman#tnmn fanfic#tnmn francis mosses#tnmn x reader#tnmn x male reader#that’s not my neighbor x male reader#that’s not my neighbor x reader#francis mosses x male reader#francis mosses x reader#doppleganger#d.d.d
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can i ask for some sex advice? im a bisexual trans guy, i’ve been with cis women and had hookups with a cis guy where he just went down on me. i’m generally attracted to all genders, but sexually i find myself turned off/repulsed by penises and cum so i’ve only pursued hookups with ppl with vulvas (so far cis women and other ftms) or situations where i don’t have to interact with the penis. totally fine with trans women and femmes who are post-op, etc. i’ve just been worried that i’m gross/transphobic/a chaser? even though im bi i feel like a shitty person for not being into dick.
Hey, thanks for the question. I think it is a good thing to be asking oneself. I think that even if you were to conclude that your attitudes were transphobic, I don't think the solution would be pushing yourself to have sex you didn't want to have or trying to force yourself to "get over" the associations that you have. That won't work, and it's not your fault for having them. What matters is how we treat people, not what fleeting thoughts and emotions we might have privately, which is part of why it is so annoying for cis people to act as if they are persecuted for having a "genital preference" or whatever. The problem isn't their feelings. It's their exclusionary, cruel, often violent actions and the words they express publicly.
I think it's worth contemplating that many trans femme people have absolutely no desire to use their penises during sex, or can't because of various medical issues, and do not produce cum that looks anything like the way most cis men produce cum. How would you feel about a trans woman who does have a penis using a strap-on on you? About you two fisting each other? About you using a hitachi magic wand on her? How do you feel when you see a trans guy with a post-phalloplasty cock? Try to reflect on questions like these with curiosity and not judgement.
Maybe you will explore your feelings and find that there are still barriers; maybe for example you wouldn't feel comfortable going down on someone's penis, but would be happy to be fucked with a strap-on by someone who has a penis, or to fuck them. That's okay. Lots of trans women want exactly that kind of sexual encounter anyway. And lots more are open minded and recognize that T4T sex is experimental and free-floating and doesn't have to involve any specific sex acts. Negotiating these things should be done delicately and respectfully, but it is always fine to say "I don't do [xyz]" or "I don't want to do xyz right now."
I relate more to your question that you might know, albeit from a different direction. I have a lot of dysphoria about having a vagina; though PIV can feel good, what I most picture myself as having in my mind's eye is nothing at all between my legs. I hate receiving oral, as I've talked about a lot, but I'm also dysphoric about and disturbed by giving oral to a person with a vagina. I have also experienced a lot of sexual trauma that involved a (typically cis male) partner forcing or pressuring me to have sex with cis women. That's happened to me many times over the course of my life. It's also made facing any pressure whatsoever to have sex with women (either cis or trans) deeply triggering and upsetting to me.
All of my own personal hang-ups and traumas have left me feeling funnily very much like that one line from Saltburn, "Women are too wet. Men are so lovely and dry."
I do get into my head about it being super transphobic of me sometimes. But I have also had fun, carefree, experimental, gratifying, hot sex with trans men with vaginas. I might not be able to eat them out, but there's lots I can do. I can finger them, put my hands in them, eat their asshole, take their strap, suck their strap-on, kiss them, fondle them, play with their nipples, be fucked alongside them, writhe atop a single hitachi together with them, slap their ass, put a dildo in them, whatever. I just don't want to eat them out or have them eat me out, for the most part.
It would be highly understandable if a trans guy felt invalidated by my feeling that way or didn't want to have sex with me given those limits. that's fine. I understand this stuff is fraught and sucks sometimes. I don't talk about my feelings around this topic publicly often because it is so contentious and I don't want feelings to be hurt. But in my heart I'm comfortable with where I am at. I know which limits I have that seem immovable and I don't really want to push them ever again. Having those limits pushed is what traumatized me. At the same time, I know it's not connected in any way to seeing trans men as lesser than cis men, or as less attractive, and I know it's not a barrier to me having sex with trans men if the moment and our interests both align. I'm not a bad person for feeling this way. It's actually really hard to be trans and to be wired this way. But I'm doing the best I can with it to both grow, and not be an asshole, and also to find fulfillment.
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I’m not gonna say who replied this on one of my posts because I don’t wanna attract hate to someone I hope is well-meaning but they got pretty heated over me claiming there’s no purely gender-exclusive experiences.
When I said that I meant gender. Not sex. But they seemed to be talking about sex. Assigned sex at birth, to be exact. And I want to address some of their examples of what they claimed is a gender or sex specific experience.
Getting a boner for the first time:
Even if we’re talking about assigned sex at birth, not to get too tmi but I’m an afab trans man, not intersex, and I had the experience of getting a boner for the first time after I went on T. Weird moment. Didn’t know what was happening at first. There are also intersex cis women with large clits or even penises who also have this experience.
Periods and period cramps:
Not all people with uteruses get periods. Some of them never do. Even ignoring that, I once read a Reddit post by a trans girl who learned she was intersex and had one ovary after she started on E and started to get periods. By all accounts an amab person, getting a period. Transfem people on E can also get PMS symptoms. There’s also intersex cis men with vaginal openings or ovaries who may or may not experience certain aspects of menstrual cycles.
Being told you can’t walk around topless as an exclusively female experience:
First off, trans people. Trans men may have experienced this. Trans women and transfem non-binary people who came out and socially transitioned in early childhood may have experienced this. Intersex people exist and have a wide variety of life experiences. Which is often forgotten about in these discussions, you may have noticed. And, not every girl gets told to keep her shirt on. Not every boy’s family is fine with him walking around with his shirt off.
There’s certain experiences that are rare in people of certain genders or sexes but almost nothing is purely exclusive.
If you take comfort in thinking that people of a certain gender or sex will never understand one of your experiences, find comfort elsewhere. Sit in your own assumptions and ask yourself why you’re so uncomfortable with someone of a different sex or gender potentially understanding something about your life you previously thought they couldn’t. You can’t tell just by looking at someone what they have and haven’t experienced. And any assumption otherwise is both transphobic and completely ignores the experiences of intersex people.
You are capable of wrapping your mind around this and opening your mind a bit. I’m not going to hold your hand any further through it. It’s not the responsibility of trans and intersex people to indulge your assumptions and smile and nod along with it. Adjust your thinking a bit. It won’t hurt you.
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Happy Valentine’s Day, here’s an extremely sappy mini-fic based off of @trans-luis-serra ‘s headcanon that Luis is a crybaby 👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻
Leon gasped in pain as his knees collided with the hardwood floor of their bedroom. He toppled over sideways, tangled in a sheet, thrashing around to try and get his bearings, get his knife into his hand, protect himself-
“Leon?” A concerned voice pierced through his distress, Luis’s voice, bringing him back to his senses. He wasn’t in the mines in Valdelobos, he was in his room, very much safe. He quit his thrashing, placing a hand over his chest to will his heart to stop pounding, as he took gasping breaths. He opened his eyes to find his husband moving across the bed to look at him, obviously still drowsy and confused over the commotion.
Leon stood up, groaning at the ache in his knees from the impact of throwing himself out of bed. “Nightmare,” he explained as he climbed back onto the mattress, pulling the sheet over the two of them and settling back down, “I’m fine, sorry for waking you up,” he planted a kiss on Luis’s cheek and laid on his back, taking deep measured breaths to chase the lingering panic away from the corners of his body. Luis seemed to hesitate, but then followed, curling himself into Leon’s side rather than moving back to his own side of the bed. Leon simply wrapped his arm around his love’s waist, thankful for the comforting weight of him after the disorienting dream, beginning to drift back off until he felt Luis let out a little shuddering breath.
“Baby?” Leon said softly, brushing a hand over Luis’s shoulder. He didn’t answer, just shook his head and attempted to bury his face into Leon’s chest, sniffling a little, “Luis, are you crying?”
“No,” came a muffled reply, but there was wetness evident in his voice, and his shoulders shook.
“Oh, baby,” Leon cooed, gathering Luis in his arms so he could pull him fully onto his chest. This was one of the things that has surprised Leon the most as they got to know each other after Spain. Luis was an easy crier. Leon would never forget how he caught him trying to subtly wipe away tears when he had offered his apartment as a place to stay after they first got to the states, and it had only ramped up in the years since.
When they watched movies, happy or sad, Leon could usually expect to look over and find his husband with glassy eyes, wiping at his cheeks with the sleeve of his shirt. When he brought home a little gift from work, some trinket that made him think of Luis, he could expect at least 5 minutes of Luis struggling to form a word to thank him as he fought back tears. Luis had had to wear sunglasses when they went to Ashley’s graduation so he wouldn’t embarrass her with his red splotchy eyes when he met her college friends (he’d been sobbing in the stands 5 minutes prior). Leon thought it was wonderful, genuinely, that someone who has survived so much could be filled with such softness.
He hugged Luis to his chest, “it was just a dream, love,” he whispered into his hair. Luis gave a wet chuckle, “I’m supposed to be telling you that, it was your nightmare,” he muttered bitterly. “True,” Leon agreed, smiling where he had his lips pressed into his husband’s dark hair, “but I’m okay, aren’t I?” He pulled back so Luis could look at him. Luis nodded weakly, sniffling again. “You go through too much,” he whispered, bringing a hand up to stroke Leon’s cheek, “I hate thinking about you not being safe in your own dreams,” his face crumpled again, frame shaking. Leon shushed him, cupped his face in his hands and pelted kisses over his cheeks and nose, using his lips to brush away the wetness there, peppering a series of rapid-fire butterfly kisses over his mouth and jaw that didn’t stop until Luis was smiling into it, breathing evening out a bit.
“I am safe,” Leon said after he was satisfied Luis wasn’t going to burst into tears again, “the dreams can’t hurt me. And even if I do have a nightmare every now and then I have my cute husband to get all worried over me, which I imagine is the waking up equivalent of having a girl waiting for you to return from war.” Luis laughed softly, rolling his eyes, but he certainly seemed like he was calmer.
“Do you think you can go back to sleep now, baby?” Leon asked, brushing Luis’s hair out of his eyes gently. He nodded, nestling himself back into Leon’s side, pressing his face into the crook of his neck and taking a deep breath. Leon gave him one last squeeze before they both drifted back off, wrapped up in each other. They would most certainly wake up tomorrow with numb limbs thanks to the position, but they couldn’t be bothered by it as they fell asleep soaking in the weight and warmth of one another, the great privilege it was to be here, safe and sound.
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deprivation
Derek Danforth x AFAB!NB!Reader
Summary: After scrolling through social media and seeing several beautiful women that you couldn’t be, your insecurities rose into you once more. Believing that Derek deserved someone better, he makes it his mission to prove you wrong.
Word Count: 2.3k
Content: 18+ MDNI, smut, AFAB reader, non-binary/transmasc reader, non-woman reader, reader has had top surgery (reader has no breasts), oral sex (v-receiving), vaginal fingering, p in v penetration, trans guilt, slight internalized transphobia, self-deprecation, angst, fluff, comfort
(A/n: finally a self-indulgent fic by me??? i know, right?! thank you to everyone who supported the creation of this fic, ily guys so much. while the reader in this is an afab enby, anyone is able to read it. no gatekeeping here :3 just a reminder, these are my own experiences and thoughts whenever i’m in a dark place—everyone has different experiences. if you are reading this and are trans in any way, you are beautiful, seen, and loved. thank you to everyone for your support!)
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Derek began to press soft kisses to your neck, one hand cupping your face and the other caressing your sides. His palm rubs over your stomach, then made its way to your arm, dragging the soft pads of his fingertips against your skin. His kisses felt like heaven to you, each one sending a desperate chill down your spine.
“B—”
“I don’t wanna hear it,” Derek mutters hoarsely as he began to nibble the sensitive skin on your neck, softly biting it between his teeth and sucking, sure to leave red and purple marks much sooner.
Recently, you had a random wave of depression: your insecurities rose back up, much more severe than before, crushing your self-image entirely. Expressing your concerns to your lover, relentlessly insisting that he deserved someone better, someone prettier, someone normal, a bona fide woman, something in him just snapped. He was going to do whatever it took to prove you wrong and convince you that all he wanted and needed was you.
Your previous words had repeated abysmally in his head, like shitty earworm songs. He was brought back to the past moment with your phone in your hand, opened to several pictures of beautiful, confident women and models, something that you could never be. And he could hear your miserable voice reverberating over and over again:
“I deprive you, don’t I?”
So there you were, laid out on the cold mattress where you’ve always slept together. Both of your clothing were sprawled out across the room, tossed carelessly by Derek as he’d previously removed everything himself. You were under him, unsure that he truly wanted this and truly wanted you. Surely he deserved someone much prettier and more normal than you.
“I know what you’re thinking about,” he mumbles, looking up at you slightly before trailing kisses downwards to your collarbone, reaching your chest. “I love you.” Derek began to pepper kisses against the faint line on your chest from your top surgery operation many years ago, the scarring already completely healed. “I don’t want anyone else,” he pressed his lips against the other side, following along the scar, “but you. Do you hear me?”
You nod quietly, but with that, falsely. You were uncertain why you couldn’t just accept his words. It seemed too untrue. You had faith in Derek, you couldn’t doubt him, but you knew that nobody, especially him, should ever be reduced to a partner like yourself. Shouldn’t he be with someone who was much more beautiful than you? Why was he with you? He deserved much more than you. Your body was unnatural, your identity was unnatural, you weren’t normal, your—
“Hey, hey, hey,” he whispers affectionately, wiping their tear at the corner of your eye that left as you had been drowned in those thoughts. “You’re beautiful.” It was like he could read your mind. “You’re so, so beautiful.” You hated it. “You’re perfect.”
Derek pressed his lips to the center of your chest, inhaling deeply as he trailed down towards your stomach, covering it in kisses. Then he reached the top of your thigh, beginning to leave more hickeys, marking you up incessantly. Soft whimpers escaped your pretty mouth, making Derek smirk to himself as he continued, letting his gentle palms caress at your sides.
“I wouldn’t trade you for anyone or anything else, my love,” he declares, rubbing your inner thighs with his thumbs before opening your legs, spreading them out. While you admit that you were still very insecure about your relationship with Derek, you couldn’t help but become aroused from his affectionate touches and words, thus revealing an astonishing wetness between your thighs. Your boyfriend moans softly at the sight, looking up at you while he kissed at your skin right above your clit. “You look so fucking gorgeous, my love, so gorgeous…”
He hooks his arms under your thighs to grip them with his hands before licking up a stripe at your pussy. The sound that escaped your mouth was complete perfection, Derek observing the way your lips parted and eyelids grow heavy, his own lustful eyes boring into yours. He then began to lap his tongue at your center much faster, teasing between your folds, tasting you, kissing you, making your legs squirm under him. “Fuck, you taste so good, baby, what a pretty fuckin’ pussy,” he praised breathlessly, “Fuckin’ love your perfect, pretty pussy…” And once you finally feel his lips close around your clit, his warm tongue lingering against it, you moan out in pure pleasure, hands immediately reaching for his hair.
“Ah-ahhhh,” you cry softly as your fingers tangle in his curls, tugging lightly. The pulling sensation prompted Derek to remove one hand from your a thigh, lining up his finger with your entrance as he continued licking at your clit. His finger methodically ran along your wet folds before slowly easing in, slipping so easily inside of you. “M—Mmmm…”
You hummed softly in contentment, feeling his finger explore your insides until he instantly slips another one in, stretching your walls and making you cry out a choked moan. His other hand spreads your other thigh out wider, pumping his two fingers in and out of your wetness at a steady, loving pace.
You felt your own hands fail yourself, falling back down on the mattress as your fingers gripped the sheets below you instead. You could feel the tip of Derek’s tongue flick at your sensitive bud skillfully, then kissing and lapping his tongue against it. Your nails dug further into the mattress as your moans became louder, face red and flushed in ultimate ecstasy.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you moan. “Mm—Derek—”
“Mmmm,” he hummed with his lips still at your clit, sending small vibrations to you, causing you to squirm and whine further.
“Fuck,” you pant as you felt closer to the edge and then…
Shit. You let out a soft, desperate whine as Derek slowly withdrew his fingers, leaving a chaste kiss on your skin before pulling away. His lips pressed against several areas of your thighs, then to your folded knee. “You taste so fucking good,” he mumbles, “You turn me on so fucking much, your body turns me on so much, you know that?”
Your bright, satisfied eyes looked up at him in pure submission, nearly begging him to touch you more. And yet, you couldn’t help but think: was he just saying this because you brought it up in the first place? And would he keep touching and tasting you longer if you were prettier? Would he touch you even more and thoughtfully if you had the body of a goddess? A siren? A woman? Ultimately, it all came down to this:
would he love you more than he did if you weren’t trans?
Derek witnessed you spacing out again in your thoughts, cupping your face gently and shushing you. “Hey,” he whispers, kissing at your neck and your face. “You’re all I ever want. Nothing’s gonna change that.” He reached down to kiss at the healed scarring on your chest again, making you shiver.
“God, look how fucking hard I am,” he cooed, urging you to see his throbbing length, “just by looking at how damn sexy you are…” His cock was completely hard, precum leaking slightly at the tip as you admired him intensely. His body had always been so beautiful and attractive to you, that you felt your own core heat up.
Derek kissed your lips briefly, deepening it while he grabbed under your thighs, lifting you up so he could sit against the bed frame with you straddling him. “That’s it, baby, I’ve got you,” he reassures gruffly, gripping tightly onto your hips. “I’ve got you.” As you hover over his lap, holding yourself up by your knees, Derek removes one hand from your hip, gripping onto his thick cock, stroking your wet folds with its head, teasing your entrance.
“Ah-Ahh,” you sigh softly in pleasure, mind beginning to become fuzzy as you succumb to the feeling of his dick slowly rubbing your pussy. Your head hung low as your hands held onto his shoulders, nails slightly digging into his skin.
He lined up his cock with your slick entrance, pushing you down onto him, stretching your walls with his thick girth. And suddenly, you could feel all your worries and insecurities dissipate into something so much more meaningless, as microscopic as a particle of glitter—except they weren't as pretty. But this allowed you to completely enjoy every feeling, every sensation guiltlessly.
“Ahhh, fuuuuck,” you whine, “fuck, Derek… sh-shit—”
Derek’s grasp on your hips remained as he lasciviously slammed them up and down his cock, grunting and moaning softly.
“Oh, fuck…” Derek’s lips parted gorgeously as he let out pleasured groans. His eyes were half-lidded, looking at you as if you were prey, yet simultaneously overwhelmed by a haze of arousal. He not only got off by the tightness of your pussy around him, but also from your beautifully rhythmic moans. You panted and whimpered loudly in such a gratifyingly repetitive manner that it was practically a dirty symphony to Derek’s ears. Paired with the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin, it was as if it were the only orchestral piece that he could stand.
Derek slightly jerked his hips up into yours each time he slammed yours down on his, making your cries louder and more desperate. He then moved his hands to your ass, squeezing the flesh selfishly as he controls your movements against him, sneaking a small smack against a cheek.
“So sexy, you’re so fucking sexy, baby,” he pants heavily, grabbing the side of your face with one hand to kiss your lips deeply, shoving his tongue past your lips to taste you. “I’m so… fucking lucky to have you…” he mutters in between kisses until he finally pulls away with a short string of saliva connecting one another’s lips, breaking it with a quick peck from Derek.
Suddenly, he changes the position by pushing you down, your back now flat against the mattress as he hovered over you. His legs were spread apart, his hips still lined up with yours as your ankles were above the back of his thighs. Placing his palms on the mattress while your knees were raised, his arms, against the back of your knees, trapped each leg in that open and spread out position. Penetrating you again, the two of you let out a loud, soft moan in unison.
“Fuck!” Derek hisses from immense pleasure as he began to move again, at a much faster pace than before. You choke out high-pitched sounds as you feel his cock constantly thrusting in and out of your fleshy walls with every wet slap. The bed creaked and rocked violently with every movement that came from Derek. He relentlessly stretched you open and buried himself even deeper inside of you, ensuring that he strokes his pelvis against your clit with every thrust, the closeness between your bodies creating an even more intimate atmosphere.
“Oh, fuck!” You cried softly, lips parted as you felt so much throbbing pleasure against your heat.
“You’re so fuckin’ pretty… Tell me that you’re pretty, baby, can you do that for me?” He inquired in a hot, low mutter.
Your thoughts froze at the request. “I—But I’m—”
He thrusts even deeper inside of you, making you moan louder. “C’mon, baby. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes upon. C’mon, tell me you’re pretty. Say it.”
“I—” You looked up into his eyes with desperation. “I’m pretty.”
“That’s my good baby… Now tell me that you’re beautiful…”
“I—” you stammer, “I’m… beautiful.”
“Again.”
“I’m beautiful.”
“Again.”
His cock pounded deeply and harder into your walls, making you cry in complete pleasure. “I-I’m beautiful.”
Your hands reached up towards the back of his neck, bringing his face down to press his forehead against yours, staring deeply into each other’s eyes while gasps and moans escaped the two of your lips.
“Tell me you belong to me. That you’re mine only,” he commands vigorously.
“I-I’m yours,” you whimper loudly.
“Damn right, you’re mine,” he huffs breathlessly, almost in a lustful slur, “all fuckin’ mine…” Derek smashes his lips against yours in a fiery and passionate kiss, burying his face in your neck to add more dark hickeys than you’d already had. Your hands go to his hair, holding his head as you tangle your fingers in his curls, lightly tugging as you feel your body begin to clench around his dick.
Your moans become more desperate as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, whining to yourself from how ecstatic this all felt. The raunchy silhouette of Derek’s body rocking lustfully against yours was truthfully a beautiful sight.
“I—I’m close!” You whimper out, your panting speeding up. “I’m so close, I—I’m gonna cum—!”
“Fuuck,” Derek grunts, “Cum for me baby, fuck, c’mon.” He sped up his pace, making your vision blur as your eyes rolled to the back of your head in pure ecstasy. And finally, with one more deep, fast thrust, your body tensed up completely, a loud whine escaping your mouth as you came, your pussy clenching deliciously around him.
Your orgasm instantly drove Derek to the edge, groaning as he came deep inside of you, shoots of his warm white cum decorating your walls and filling you up. He stays like this for a while, collapsing on your body as his face is buried in your neck. The two of you were panting heavily, struggling to catch your breaths from the intense climax. Derek began peppering kisses on your neck once more, going over the old hickeys that formed several moments ago.
“I love you so fucking much, okay, baby? I wouldn’t—I’d never leave you,” he mutters, making your heart full. “You could never, ever deprive me, baby, you’re everything I could ever want. Your body is so damn beautiful, you’re so fucking perfect…”
Derek kissed your lips deeply once again, spilling all his authentic admiration and love for you. He would rather perish by suffocation from kissing your lips as much as he could, if it meant that even a sliver of you would be convinced that he loved you for who you were. And who you were in his eyes was utter perfection.
#derek danforth#derek danforth x reader#the beekeeper#The beekeeper movie#the beekeeper 2024#the beekeeper fanfix#derek danforth smut#derek danforth fluff#derek danforth angst#smut#angst#nonbinary#genderqueer#nonbinary reader#trans reader#transgender#josh hutcherson#josh hutcherson x reader#josh hutcherson smut#mike schmidt#mike schmidt x reader#josh futturman#future man#josh futturman x reader#josh futturman smut#comfort#trans smut
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Gotta Get This off my Chest
Severus Snape & HBO Series
Alright first off, I know you are generally expecting well thought out essays from me but here I’m going to Ramble Freeform. You’ve been warned.
I don’t know how I feel at all about another actor attempting to play Severus Snape. JK Rowling is the main producer and honestly this worries me a lot considering the amount of hatred she has for LGBTQ people and the amount of hatred Severus has gotten in the last years. This space is bad sometimes but generally we have a fantastic community of people in this snapedom who love the character as he is written positives and negatives. I for one liked Snape from the first book I read and the first movie I watched.
I’ll be the first to admit that my image of him is very much wrapped up in Alan Rickman, and tho I greatly respect other peoples images of snape and I love the fan art they make, the thing that made Alan such an amazing character actor for the part was the unabashed love he had for the character. Look at any interview of him about Severus and you will see that he went to bat for him at every turn. What if we we are given someone who sees Snape through the eyes of the marauders fandom? What if they erase all of Snapes goodness or heaven forbid write extra scenes of cruelty to Lily that didn’t exist, or have him creep over her, or physically attack her, or characterize him as the aggressor with James when we all know it was the other way around? These kinds of fears keep me from being excited about the new series and instead leave me anxious.
For one thing, I wish they had focused more on a different period of wizard history, or a different part of the 1st wizarding war or even marauders/young Severus era, because there is so much to explore. I would have liked to explore story lines that really could use more fleshing out, and if JK Rowling is going to be a part of this she could have easily written new passages or short stories to suit this new narrative. I also worry about the fact that yet again because she is a producer there will certainly be no LGBTQ characters in the narrative and that’s a waste to me. We already have a fantastic interpretation of the books, and if they are doing a redo why not cast people of color or trans or any LGBT characters in the mix? It will be the same story just perhaps fleshed out more? I’m not sure what this series will bring to the table that the movies did not unless they radically change some things.
Yet, with this interpretation we may see many thing in the series that we don’t see in the books. Severus has two big scenes at the end of POA and GOF that were totally left out of the movies, and if this was left in and the “prank” was explored more in depth we could get to see an even more complex narrative than Alan was allowed to portray in the movies (largely due to directorial choices).
Severus as we all know is a complex character that can be different or difficult to understand without a trauma informed lense and the last thing I want is for them to shove him into a gross stereotype, or give him attributes that don’t exist in the books in order to cater to certain fandoms. I’m genuinely worried about the prospect of this. I also don’t want our fandom safe spaces that we’ve spent years curating to be over run with Snape hate again just because of the series. I could be being pessimistic. It’s just been on my mind lately.
No hard feelings it’s just…Severus Snape is my comfort character and I don’t want the idea of it ruined by people who don’t really understand him or who wouldn’t bat for him the way Alan did. Please understand me. Does anyone else have mixed feelings this way?
#severus snape#pro snape#hbo max#hbo harry potter#harry potter movies#alan rickman#alan rickman snape#snape love#harry potter#severus snape defense
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I saw you were taking requests for Hades :3
Soo...him x transmasc reader maybe? Like the reader is dysphoric n stuff sigh
And just him x a male reader in general I'm not normal abt the man ragh
SHUT UP, BOY | HADES
summary: You had resentment towards Hades because you feel that he does not validate you, which is quite the opposite and he shows it to you. pairing: Hades x male!transmasc!reader warning: gender dysphoria, body dysphoria and transphobia a/n: I'm a member of the trans umbrella! It was very nice to write it
You had gotten into the bad habit of being a very defensive boy, everything they said to you you took rudely to defend yourself, and it was a terrible way to socialize, so you didn't have many friends. No matter how villainous, macabre and twisted the VKs were, they all respected your identity and when they made fun of you they had the minimum education to respect your identity, at least.
You were angry with them because they had tripped you and you had thrown your things at the entrance to your room, a gesture that irritated your already strong character, you were just sitting on the floor picking up and releasing indirect insults to those who did not see you and collided with you .
When you are missing half of your books, someone bumps their knee into your shoulder, making you raise your head angrily to complain without receiving a response. The person is forgotten when you see Hades, yes, the god of the underworld himself and a VK walk in your direction staring at you.
The only thing you think about is quickly picking up your books before it's too late and he throws them at you again.
A whirlpool attacks your brain, sweeping away your coherent thoughts when he finally reaches you, bending down and picking up the missing half. You didn't know whether to thank him or insult him.
“I need help with homework. I’m going to pay you back.”
SON OF A BITCH. INTERESTED. UNGRATEFUL TORCH-
You just roll your eyes and receive your books, carrying some in your arms and putting others in your bag. “First, what do you intend to pay me with?” You pause when he opens his mouth. “I'm not interested in money.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What do you want then?”
“Your friends stop bothering me.”
“I can’t promise they will deliver.”
“Then let them reduce it.”
He shrugged and you walked into your room, being followed by him. They were not going to comply.
After doing what many thought impossible, that is, Hades getting a good grade, he didn't stop looking for you with stupid excuses, the most common being that he was bored and couldn't find his friends or he was tired of listening to Uliana complain.
Little by little they formed what could be called 'hate friendship', which was the two of you being friends who insult each other and make unpleasant comments about each other but who at the same time help and defend each other.
Defender.
Not everyone at school was open-minded like you expected, and after a while you got used to it and just let them be as long as they didn't blurt out some personally derogatory comment for the purpose of being annoying. How had it happened to you now?
You were locked in your room, you had locked the door while you looked at yourself with contempt in the full-length mirror; You never hated yourself, you just let yourself develop and when you came of age you would do what you had to do.
You watched as your hair trailed to your elbows, embracing you in an unpleasant mess like greasy cobwebs. Your sculpted waist as if you were a porcelain doll and the curve of your legs towards your crotch made you nauseous. Your bust wasn't exaggerated, but not all the layers of clothing in the world could hide it.
Miss. Lady. Princess.
“Y/N!” He knocked on your door hard.
“I'm not here.”
“If you don't open the door I'll burn it”
“No, you won't.” You sighed, tearing your heavy gaze away from the distorted figure in the mirror and turning the knob to let Hades in. “What happend?”
He took your arms in a paranoid manner hidden from external annoyance. “What happend? That you locked yourself in your room after an idiot has opened his mouth, that has happened.”
“Where is he now?” You furrowed your eyebrows in doubt.
"Oh, he'll probably be in the infirmary because of the beating that Hook and Maleficent will give him."
"There's no necessary."
“It is completely necessary. Are you OK? Why did you lock the door?”
You looked down. Your face did not express anything; neither tiredness, nor annoyance, nor discomfort nor sadness, it was like a blank canvas that seemed to be painted with the desperation of your mind to be someone.
“I'm fine, seriously, it was nothing.”
Hades, still unconvinced drowning in paranoia and holding your arms so tightly that his nails were beginning to print on your arms, finally hugged you, rubbing his hands down your back to give you comfort.
“You're not like the others, right?”
"What are you talking about?"
“I thought you hated me.”
"I don't understand you."
“Hades, do you see me as a boy?”
The words scratch your throat with the pain of letting them out in a broken whisper, which makes your face take on the expression of being desperate, but also of just wanting him to take care of it. He brings his leather-gloved hand up and cups your cheek, caressing it with his thumb.
The look in his eyes is nothing but pure longing and cheesy crap you swore you hated until he started punching idiots who refused to respect you. Maybe it wasn't the most romantic thing, but the intention to dare was something new.
"You're my boy, if you wasn't like that I wouldn't have let you get as close as you are now.”
“You came to me.”
He shrugged. “It's something you hit me.”
His face gets dangerously close to yours until his lips meet yours, making your stomach jump and you leave him alone, speaking for all the times you dreamed of a happy ending full of pink hearts for Let them shut up and let you live in the very close moment.
#descendants x reader#descendants rise of red#fanfic#descendants#gn reader#male reader#transgender#trans reader#hades x reader#hades descendants#hades
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This is a vent post more than anything, but honestly? Despite the lip service I see a lot of gender criticals give to detransitioners, ime the Average Joe is a lot more likely to sympathize with detransitioners and to see us as fully fledged human beings. People who don’t know anything about the trans discourse aren’t ideologically involved and they’re more likely to approach us individuals first.
I’ve noticed a LOT of gender criticals and radfems basically view detrans women as “traitors” and assume the absolute worst about our motivations. I have literally seen radfems say shit like “well, I could never trust a detrans woman because she transitioned because she hates women and secretly wants to dominate me/rape me/enact misogyny on me,” radfems acting like transition ruins a person and that it’s impossible to ever come back from that. As if there aren’t literally women who used to hold all kinds of problematic/misogynistic beliefs who eventually snapped out of it.
For all the talk about how women need only be biologically female to be women, I’m convinced a lot of the most adamant GCs don’t see us as women. They literally just see us as gender freaks. They have this image in their mind of us as this weird in-between female, separate from the real women.
It’s so incredibly insulting. These people have a caricature of detrans women in their head. I highly doubt most have ever even met a detrans woman irl. It’s so stupid because most detrans women are very clearly female after they’ve been off hormones a few years. I’ve literally known women who were on hormones for years and I had no idea because they sound and look typical. Like, when I first detransitioned a lot of people thought I was male, but now I am gendered female and deal with the same shit as any other woman. And no, not every detrans woman will be able or want to assimilate back into her birth sex, but that still doesn’t take away from her status as a woman.
Detransitioners have literally gone through hell. Where the fuck is all this righteous indignation y’all level at these endos prescribing kids HRT, when you actually talk to someone who went through that? Fuck any GC who treats detransitioners like trash because you lack the basic human empathy to understand that what we went through was abuse. Most detransitioners nowadays started transitioning as children. CHILDREN. Kids who were traumatized, who had already been violated or neglected in some way. We were the ones who got swept up in a massive social experiment and we payed the price for it.
Some of y’all are repulsive. We are human beings, not pawns in your culture war. I see the same crap leveled at detransitioned men, too. Not every detransitioned man was an AGP fetishist that abused women ffs. I also know men who were gay or experienced CSA and ended up pushed into transition as kids. The way people talk to detransitioners and our bodies is disgusting. People calling Jazz Jenning’s SRS shit like a “festering, non-functional fuck hole.” What the fuck is wrong you, that was literally a teenager who was groomed into this is as a 6 year old.
At the end of the day detransitioners cannot rely on other groups, only on individual allies and ourselves. I am thankful for the feminists and GCs who sincerely care about we went through and want justice for people harmed by transition. The rest of you can piss off. Go find another toy to chew on.
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Hi! This is a sort of weird question, but I’m writing a sci fi /fantasy book with two disabled main characters:
1. Cove is twelve years old and has something along the lines of Williams syndrome (possibly that, possibly Down syndrome—still deciding). He’s mildly intellectually disabled and has low muscle tone + an unspecified heart problem (which is stable but he still gets regular checkups for it). His power is turning into a giant at will. He might have PTSD for reasons that are potentially triggering, so I won’t go into details ^^’ He really likes the ocean and spicy food, and hates people staring at him or judging him
2. Lucas is sixteen and uses a wheelchair full time due to cerebral palsy. His hands tend to shake a lot too. His power is turning into a Sphynx cat. He’s a trans guy. Idk what he would like or dislike yet tbh, but I picture him dressing in black clothes a lot
My question is this—what are some ways these characters’ powers could like interact with their disabilities? So far I have that overusing his giant power could possibly put strain on Cove’s heart. and if Lucas wants to move around independently in his cat form, he’d probably need one of those animal wheelchairs for his back legs?
Also— is there anything else I need to consider while I write this story?
I’m not trying to get you to do all the brainstorming for me btw! I hope it doesn’t seem like that ^^’ I’m just looking for other people’s thoughts and input-
Hi!
I think that the powers you gave them are very cool! Often with disabled superpowered characters there's the trope of always having the ability be fundamentally connected with their disability. Someone shapeshifting into a cat is awesome!
The concept of Cove's transformation putting pressure on his heart is very realistic (if you can say that about shapeshifting, lol)! Both Down and Williams Syndrome come with cardiac problems, so you won't need to change that if you decide to switch the exact disability. I'm thinking that maybe he could try to slowly turn giant, rather than instantaneously? I imagine that turning back to being normal-sized could also cause some issues. I'm unsure if that's a part of your story, but I think that having his family worry about him transforming because of his heart would be realistic as well. Wouldn't really classify it as infantilization because he's twelve, and I know that a lot of parents of children with DS are extremely cautious around the cardiovascular problems (not sure about Williams Syndrome here, but I think it would make sense as well)! You mentioned PTSD, and while I don't see anything wrong here from what you said, I would just urge you to not have some weird "PTSD flashback = turns giant and extremely violent" (violent being the key word here) kind of scene. (If you have PTSD yourself then feel free to do whatever you want of course). But I think that him becoming bigger when he feels threatened as a defense mechanism of sorts would make sense.
For Lucas, I think that the idea of shapeshifting from a wheelchair user to a wheelchair using cat goes incredibly hard. As for the ways that it could interact with his cerebral palsy: if he has issues with his arms then he would use the wheelchair a bit differently. In the kitty wheelchair the whole energy comes from the forelimbs, so if his hands shake then he would be much more wobbly as a cat than as a human. I'm not sure whether cerebral palsy in kitties is a thing, but you can look up cats with cerebellar hypoplasia. It's not the same thing but causes some similar symptoms! For example, the lack of balance that Lucas could have due to shaky limbs.
In my opinion your story sounds great! If you have any more questions with more specific details, feel free to send another ask :)
Sorry for the late answer! I hope this helps!
mod Sasza
#mod sasza#potato-head-kids#cerebral palsy representation#intellectual disability representation#fantasy species#wheelchairs#ptsd representation
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Every Perfect Curve
George Weasley x Chubby Reader
You had given birth to your sweet little Freddy a while ago. While finally having a moment to yourself, you can’t help but feel self conscious that you haven’t ’bounced back’ like so many others have. George is there to remind you that you are just stunning. Even if you never ‘bounce back’ as they say
Warnings: 16+, Body Dysphoria, Trans Masc coded but over all discussion of weight gain, flirting, sexual content ((no sex)) nursing, postpartum, After The Deathly Hallows Content, Pregnancy
Writing Coms Open
“This used to fit-!” You sniffled, as you were fighting with your body. Trying so hard to get your pants on. You haven’t worn pants since your second trimester. You wanted to wear pants again, but it doesn’t seem like that will happen. You couldn’t even get them past your thighs. It was so frustrating, how much weight you had gained.
“Jellybean, you just had a baby. You think Mum is built like a string bean like the kids she popped out?” George tried to explain, as he was undoing his suit jacket. So happy to have the work day done with, and finally spend some time with his family. You, little Freddy, and Bill with his own pregnant wife.
Since after the war, Bill figured to return back to Gringotts. Stable job, close to George, well paying, and those goblins actually gave him medically paid vacation leave for every time the week of the full moon was coming. It was perfect. Also, he won’t lie, was nice to have a part time job at WWW. Everything was perfect, besides well….The hormones.
“But she had seven kids! I just had one-!” You sniffled. Luckily, George was a fourth kid of seven. He knows a thing or two about someone with hormones. Especially ones with postpartum. Molly had caught some after Ron, funny enough. He knew not to poke the bear, too much.
Before he could stop you, you were already crying. “I’m so fat-! Look at my chest! Look at my thighs! I’m covered in stretch marks, and I can’t wear clothes right anymore! I’m bigger than a inflatus charm! How can you even stand the sight of me?!” You sobbed, as those hormones were just destroying your head space. He let you scream it out, having long since casted a silencing charm on your shared bedroom. Just letting you scream it out. Better out than in.
“Jellybean-“ He cooed, as he would leave himself in his dress shirt now. He would sneak behind you, and wrapped his arms around your stomach. Happily tracing over your stretch marks, and resting his head on yours. Just looking into the mirror, and seeing you struggle. Wet tears and all. He didn’t see what you saw. He saw someone he loved. Every inch of you was devine. Every stretch mark, roll, and sag. That was you.
“Jeans are uncomfortable anyway.” He tried to joke with you, as he scratched his finger on the rough denim. Going to make a disgusted face at the texture. Despite your tears, you couldn’t stop your smile. Damn him. He always found a way. You hated how he made you smile, as you now over thought. Were you crying for attention now? Were you making a big deal out of nothing? Luckily, your husband was quick to distract you from such scary thoughts.
“Come on. You like my pants anyway.” He added. Given how tall he was, the fabric was able to stretch around you easier. You didn’t even have a chance to argue, before he found a pair of his old pajama pants. You figured not to fight him, and soon sat on the edge of the bed. He pulled the jeans off, and helped you into the old soft fabric. Just pampering you. Kissing those newly soft features, and admiring you. Kissing that belly, that took care of your shared little boy. Admired those thighs, and appreciated those stretch marks from that hard working body.
“Much better?” He asked, as they were able to properly fit. Given the height, there was plenty of fabric over your stomach. Enough to even pull the plaid high enough to not drag on the ground. He even worked on making sure you had some nice warm socks, so you didn’t get chilly. Making sure you were as cared for as you deserved.
“Shut up.” You huffed, but he knew you were just frustrated with your body. He knew what that was like. Losing an ear sure makes life hell. If anyone can relate to hating your own body, it’s him. He would let you be frustrated, as he tried to make sure you were comfortable. Seems your top wouldn’t be next, as you two heard noises from the living room.
“ACK-! FLEUR HELP-!” Bill shouted, followed by the devious giggles of your son. Next were the sweet giggles of the Half Veela, as she was most likely working on saving her partial werewolf groom. The giggles of your son gave you a brief smile, but your eyes were on your body again.
“Hey, look at me-“ George would soon cup your face, so to make sure you stopped looking at yourself. “You have a body of a mother, a parent. All this squish was used to make sure our little boy was born happy and healthy.” He tried to reassure you, with a kiss to your lips. With his face with yours, he reached to his dress shirt. He took it off, and soon slipped it on you. He left it unbuttoned, so your sore breasts didn’t get more irritated. Yet still feel somewhat covered.
“And these-“ He gently touched said breasts, making sure to not irritated your sore nipples. “These are big because someone here eats like a Weasley. Playing with them more than me! That little bugger-“ And you laughed. He got you to laugh, and he was grinning with pride.
Speaking of hungry, a shrill cry was soon from the living room. “He eats like a Weasley alright-“ You sighed, but felt a bit more confident now. He was right. You were big because Freddy needed a lot of nutrients. Your breasts were large because he needed to eat a lot. Your body was built for your son to thrive. Being squishy wasn’t so bad. Right?
The both of you were quick to come to your living room, and soon seen Bill trying his best to distract Freddy from his hungry belly. Tickling him, and making little animal sounds. That seemed to entertain the little ginger, as he cooed. Fleur was even doing the same, as she sat with him. The wolf, and the harpy. Chirps and barks.
“His first words are going to be growls, knock it off-!” George would, playfully, say. That made them look over. Bill was quick to cover his eye, given the other one was blind, as to give you privacy. Despite the fact he had seen you nurse before. You still appreciated the gesture, regardless.
“Oh hush-“ Fleur tsked, before she would hoist herself up. Using the side of the couch for support, as so to make sure you had all the space on the couch to feed your son on. You wanted to tell her she didn’t have to, but she was in that Tri Wizard Tournament for a reason. She knows how to be strong.
“Come here, sweetie-“ You shushed, as Bill handed you your son. Those big eyes of his just glowing, and his chubby little fingers reaching for you. Your eyes, and George’s hair. Such a sweet thing. Seeing those chubby hands made you think about your chubby figure. Much like he will, you’ll out grow yours one day. If not? Well, least you know you’ll use it to make sure your son is taken care of. Because that soft body was soothing his upset stomach already. Just snuggled into your warm breasts.
“When will I get a turn?” George asked, as you smacked his shoulder. “Hey-!” He whined, as you rolled your eyes. You would soon be on the couch, and brought your legs up. Left to rest in your husbands lap, as Bill got you some pillows for your back. Your husband rubbing your feet, as you let Freddy nurse. Gentle with his fluffy ginger hair, and admiring him.
“Oh he is so handsome-“ Fleur cooed, as she watched. She was due any time now, as well. Having her watch you nurse was very useful for her. That also made you feel better. If you didn’t get so chubby, Fleur wouldn’t get to see what would happen with her. To see how much it helps with her soon to be child. Maybe being larger wasn’t as ugly as you thought. There was so much beauty in it. Beauty in using what you had to help others.
“Hungry thing.” Bill snorted, as his wife gently smacked his own arm. “If not for the hair, that appetite says Weasley all over it.” George echoed. You rolled your eyes, as your son kept nursing away. Needing to stuff his belly full. Was ages, but he finally was satisfied. With a cloth over your shoulder, you would gently burp him.
“He’s picking up signlaguge so quickly. Swear he will be better at it than me before he’s even two-!” George scoffed, but those eyes were sparkling. He was proud of his smart baby boy. “And soon French-“ Fleur echoed. “Arabic ain’t that bad-“ Bill tagged in. “And of course Romanian.” You vouched for Charlie. “Smart ass baby.” George snorted, before you kicked his thigh.
This moment was soothing. All just parents, together, with your children. Gentle learning for Fleur, and comfort. George was right. Your body was built for something. It was built to take care of your baby boy, and help Fleur learn how to treat her own baby. Being chubby wasn’t a sin. Just as much as being skinny and muscular had its benefits, so did being soft and squishy.
“There we go-“ You smiled, as he gave his little burp. “Much better, hm?” You smiled, as you would bring him to lay on your chest. Just like that, he was knocked out. Sleeping soundly, on your soft breasts. Listening to your heart beat, and able to take a well deserved nap.
“He got that from Fred. That was the only way we could tell you two apart. Whenever Fred was done feeding, he knocked right out. You? You got more energy, and got so excited you ended up throwing up.” Bill chuckled, as that seemed to comfort George. He missed his Fred, but knowing a part of him was still around made him smile. His hand ever so gentle on his son’s back, as he gently rubbed your own stomach. Admiring your stretch marks.
“This might be soon, but do you think-?” George questioned, as he kept tracing the indents in your skin. Another kid, already? You couldn’t blame him, though. He was a magical identical twin. The idea of growing up an only child sounded horrifying. Bro to mention big families is all he knew. Maybe…..
You looked to your sleeping son, and your own body. A smile crossed your lips, as you soon help George’s hand. “Plenty of nutrients for a round two, huh?” You joked. You were able to joke about your own body, and that cleared any worry George had. The two of you were financially fine, and had plenty of support.
He kissed your lips, before kissing your son’s head. A tiny little smile crossed those chubby little cheeks, and you had to wonder why you ever thought chubby cheeks could be so horrible. Your son had the prettiest cheeks around, and you hoped your next kid could have them all the same. Pretty, chubby, features.
#harry potter#harry potter magic awakened#hpma#magic awakened#George Weasley#george weasley x reader#bill Weasley#fleur delacour#Fleur Weasley#William Weasley#x reader#x chubby reader#George Weasley x chubby reader#postpartum#hp fandom#Weasley family#hurt comfort#body postivity#pregnancy#stretch marks#self indulgent#george weasley x you#george weasley x y/n#gender neutral reader#gender neutral#trans masc coded#second wizarding war#self care#self hate#body positive
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Strange Creature
Pairing: Ezra x trans!reader
Words: 3k
Rating: M (18+ so much smut is happening) No use of Y/N, reader has had top surgery, body worship (reader receiving), reader calls Ezra "sir," pet names, soft dom!Ezra, praise, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys!) oral (Ezra receiving), gender affirmation (reader's genitalia is referred to as: cock, hole), creampie, aftercare.
Summary: After feeling discourage from several bad club experiences, your best friend convinces you to try again which leads to catch the attention of a stranger.
Author: Mod Mouse
Notes: This is an 18+ work so minors DNI. If you continue past the "Keep Reading," just know what you are getting into. This one was actually really fun to write. Ezra is slowly becoming one of my favorites to write.
Bars were never your thing. They were always too loud and the drinks were always too expensive. Nor did you even have the confidence to go home with anyone. Not that you ever got the chance. Straight bars always meant way too much explaining, and gay bars seemed to never warrant any attraction.
Though luckily for you your best friend was a persuasive being and convinced you to give the local gay bar another try. You were hesitant at first, but when they gave you money for a drink, you had to say yes.
So there you were leaning against the bar while a fast electronic song played in the background. You were nursing an overpriced Moscow Mule and watching the writhing crowd before you. Everyone seemed to have found their fling for the night, and you sighed feeling like you should call it an early night.
You took another sip and surveyed the crowd one more time just by some miracle someone had finally noticed you. When no one caught your eye, you let out the breath you were holding and were about to throw back the rest of your drink when you heard a voice say, “And what is a fine creature like yourself doing in such a watering hole?” You jumped and turned to a stranger who approached you while you were deep in thought.
“Oh um you just taking in the sights,” You reply jestering to the dance floor.
He turned his attention to the crowd. “Oh the writhing mass of bodies? I don’t blame you. The tribulations of the mating dance is a hard one to master.”
You chuckled. This man had a unique way of speaking, but he was right. “You can say that again. Apparently I missed the class on flirting because I’ve never gotten far.”
He raised his eyebrows and leaned against the bar next to you. “You jest. A man of your caliber must be fending off sutors left and right.”
“Well as much as I hate to tell you, you would be wrong,” You sighed and took the final sip of your drink, setting the cup back on the counter.
“Their optical lobe must be malformed to not see how handsome you are if you don’t mind me being so forward.”
You blushed at his words. “That’s quite the compliment for someone you just met.”
He chuckled, “Well I mean every word.” He stood up and held out his hand for you. “Name’s Ezra.” You shook his hand and introduced yourself. Ezra smiled, “Another wonderful aspect about you.”
You bit your lip and blushed. “So what brings you here to this establishment?”
Ezra sighed and sat down on one of the bar stools. “Well I did have a date, but they seemed to have found a better option.”
“That’s their own damn fault.” You frowned.
Ezra looked over at you. “Do tell,”
You turned to face him leaning your arm against the bar. “You’re interesting. Definitely different from others I’ve tried to flirt with before.”
“Different how?”
You snort “Well you haven’t left yet.”
“True but that doesn’t seem like a high bar to pass.”
You sighed “I haven’t told you my secret yet.”
“Secrets are quite exciting,” He tilts his head.
“Well I hope you weren’t expecting the whole package.”
Ezra furrowed his brow “What do you mean?”
You paused and looked out at the crowd. All the people seemed to be different from you and you had to keep yourself from tearing up. “I’m not like them.”
Ezra turned to look at the crowd, and then back at you. “You’re straight?”
You chuckled sadly and turned to face him again. “No, quite the opposite. I’m very gay just not the right gay for them.”
“Darlin’ you are talking in rhymes and riddles.”
“What I’m trying to say is that well I’m trans,” You confessed and turned away from him hoping to not see the disappointment that’s there everytime you tell someone.
The silence was loud despite the pulsing music. You felt fingers on your chin pulling your attention back to Ezra. His face was softer than you were expecting. “Have people really stopped acquainting themselves with you when they discover the true essence of your soul?”
You bit your lip and nodded “You would be surprised with how many men care if I have a real cock or not.” You chuckle darkly.
“I can understand where the gloom on your soul rests.” He smiled softly. Ezra gazed into your eyes. “It’s a tragedy they don’t see the beauty in you.”
“You’re just saying that to get in my pants.” You roll your eyes gently.
“No jesting here.” You were silent and Ezra gently stroked his thumb over your chin. “How about I show you just how handsome you really are.”
“I would like that a lot,” You blushed.
Ezra smiled and reached into his pocket and pulled out some bills tossing them on the counter. He takes your hand and carefully leads you out of the noisy environment. He hailed a taxi for you and he opened the door for you when it arrived. You blushed at his gentleness and you slid into the seats. Ezra sat next to you, closing the door behind him. The driver drove off and Ezra gently took his hand in yours rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Ezra’s apartment was a maximalist wonderland. Dark green walls were covered in oddities and strange but beautiful objects. Bookshelves were lined with special additions and decorated pages. You wondered how so many random objects fit together so well.
“This is stunning.” You whispered, taking it all in.
“Thank you I try hard to curate a space where I feel comfortable residing in,” Ezra commented.
“I’ve always wanted to live like this,” You said softly.
“Would you like to see more?” He asked, gesturing to the hallway. You turned and nodded. Ezra gently took your hand and led you to the bedroom. It was just as beautiful as the living room with the same touch of coordinated chaos.
“How about you lay down on that bed for me,” Ezra purred, closing the door behind him though he didn’t take his eyes off of your form. His predatory eyes scanned your body up and down taking off your clothes with his eyes.
You blushed trying not to feel self conscious. Not many men of his stature would even bat an eye at you, but he was the one who approached you earlier. You maintained your eye contact that you subconsciously fidgeted with the hem of your shirt.
Ever observant Ezra didn’t miss this subtle movement. “Now what has my birdie so nervous?”
“I-I’m just not used to this sort of thing?” You confess.
He slowly approached and cupped your face in his palm stroking it with the pad of his thumb. “Remember you are in control of this torrid event. If something doesn’t satisfy you or gives you even a modicum of distress in the handsome head of yours, you tell me right away. Pleasure is an enjoyment not an assignment.”
You bit your lip and looked up at him. You softly nodded your head. Ezra gently kisses your head. “I know words are hard for you at the moment, but I need to hear a verbal agreement birdie. Do you want me to take you like you deserve?” He asked in a voice already laced with need.
Your eyes bore into his and you whisper, “Yes Sir.”
Ezra chuckled and moved his hand to grip your chin gently running his thumb over your plump lip. “Sir? Well ain’t that a symphony to my ears. Then we must keep this concerto going. How about you take off what you are comfortable with, sweetheart.”
“Y-Yes sir,” You replied and stood up to obey his command. Ezra moved to the bed and sat down for a better view of the show. You stood between his legs to make sure he could see everything as you slowly unbutton your shirt starting from the bottom. Your fingers gradually unbutton each clasp exposing more and more of your body.
Ezra kept a predatory eye on you taking in your handsome form. “Such a handsome man in front of me right now,” He licked his lips as you took off your shirt. His hands hover over your hips and he looks up at you waiting for permission. You nodded and he gently caressed your sides.
“Mmmmmm,” He hummed and gently kissed your soft stomach. Your eyes fluttered as his soft touches made butterflies flutter in your core. Ezra kissed his way up your torso and planted a soft kiss on the top of your scars. He pulls back to look up at you and gently caresses the scar tissue with his thumbs. “The marks of a warrior.” He whispered and continued worshiping your chest.
Your breath caught in your throat and you felt tears welling up in your eyes. Not out of sadness, but this was the first time anyone had said such words to you.
Ezra looked and stood up gently cupping your cheeks pulling your gaze to his hazel eyes. “You are a magnificent creature who deserves pleasure and devotion just as any other cis person.”
You smiled and placed your hand on his. “Thank you,”
Ezra kissed your forehead and placed his forehead against yours. “Of course birdie.”
You let yourself stay pressed against Ezra for a bit just enjoying the company of these new acquaintances. “Can I give you head?” You asked softly.
Ezra blinked a few times and smiled, “Well how am I to say no to such a nicely requested wish.” He sat back down on the bed and gently pulled you forward. You got on your knees in front of him and Ezra pulled his pants down his hard cock springing up.
You hummed at the size and you felt yourself growing harder. Gently you grasped his dick to steady it and lapped at the head testing the waters. You gazed up at Ezra and he tangled his fingers in your hair giving you a soft command. You took a deep breath and slowly took him into your mouth hollowing out your cheeks as he slid down your throat. Tears formed in your eyes but you loved the feeling.
Ezra moaned and gripped your hair a bit tighter. “You have a heavenly mouth birdie. Those others are missing out.” You moan at your words and slowly bobbed your head up and down. You kept a steady pace making sure your tongue swirled around the veins and head. Ezra moaned as you took him over and over again.
“You have a talented tongue,” He panted, tangling his fingers in your hair. “Every lick is a divine, gem.”
You looked up at him through your eyelashes making sure he seems just how good he’s making you feel. A soft tear ran down your cheek and Ezra gently wiped it away. The gesture gave you some courage and you started to speed up your motions. You wanted all of him and you wanted it now. The taste of precum spurred you on even more and your licks became more frantic.
“Slow down a bit there birdie,” He coos as he gently pulls your head back off of his cock. You pant silva dribbling down your chin. He looked down at your lust filled eyes with his own equally darkened eyes. “If you keep that pace up you're gonna make me spill. Between the two of us I much rather see my seed spill from that pretty hole of yours.”
You whimpered softly and nodded. “I want you deep inside of my hole Sir.”
“Then inside you it shall be,” He moaned as he helped you to your feet. One hand ran up and down your leg while the other unbuckled your pants. Gently he pulled them and your underwear down to the floor and you stepped out of them. Ezra groaned at the sight of you. You were glistening and so hard already.
“I’ve had delicacies at many fine restaurants over the course of my life, but I have a feeling your cock will be the most divine out of all of them.” He praised spreading your legs with his hand. Gently he palmed his hand against you and you moaned. His hand was big enough where he could rub your cock and tease your hole with his finger.
“Oh fuck Ezra,” You moaned as you ground you hips against his hand.
“Does my touch alone make you see stars, my gem?” He asked, smirking delighted at your reaction.
You nod as he dives a finger into you moving his whole hand as he made sure you were feeling everything he was giving you. Even this simple movement was making you come undone and god did you want so much more of him. “Please Sir.” You moaned.
“Mmmmm what would you like, birdie?” He asked, not taking his eyes off of your cock.
“Please I want you to fuck me,” You moaned and Ezra slips in another finger making you gasp. You steady yourself with your hands on your shoulder as you feel him loosen you up.
“Just a bit longer, gem. I wanna make sure that your hole can adequately take me.” He replied gently, kissing your stomach as he thrusted his fingers into you faster. You moaned and wrapped your arms around his head leaning over compassing his head with your torso.
“That’s it birdie good boy,” He purred as he felt you clench against your fingers. After a few more thrusts he pulled his fingers out of you. You whimpered, missing the feeling. You unfurled your body and looked down at him pouting. But that pout quickly changed to a moan when Ezra began to lick his wet fingers. He hummed as he took in your sweet flavor. “I was right. That was better than any expensive dessert any chef could make.”
You blushed at his praise. “Thank you sir.” Once he was finished with his sweet treat, he stood up from the bed switching positions with you. “Now how would my good boy like to be taken tonight. You’ve been so good for me tonight, you get to choose how your hole will be filled.”
You bit your lip taking some time to think about how you would like Ezra to take you. Finally you met his gaze and stated, “I wanna see your face when you cum inside me.”
Ezra groaned at your reply. “And I want to see your expression as my cum leaks out of you. Now on the bed birdie,” He softly commanded and you were quick to obey.
You laid down on your back and spread your legs eager for Ezra to be in between them. Ezra quickly followed suit, kneeling between your thighs. Gently he slid his hands under your thighs and pulled your hips to meet his. Keeping one hand on your hip, he took the other hand and guided his cock up and down your slit moaning at the feeling of his cock touching yours. You whimpered softly when he finally rubbed the head against your hole. As gently as he could, he slipped inside of you with a moan.
You weren’t much better. He felt so nice inside you filling you just the way you needed. Soon you felt his hips press against yours as he bottomed out. Ezra leaned down to kiss you, giving you time to adjust to his cock. He murmured sweet encouragements making you clench around him with just his words.
Finally you gave him a small nod indicating you were ready for him to move. Ezra pressed his forehead against yours as he slowly thrusted into you. With each movement you moaned feeling every inch of him pull out and quickly thrust back inside of your hole.
“Fuck Ezra just like that,” You moaned as he brushed a particularly sensitive part inside you.
“You feel amazing, just oh so perfect,” Ezra blubbered as if he couldn’t keep his praise inside of him. He continued his thrusting and his praise making the familiar coil of pleasure build in your belly.
“Ezra please sir I’m getting close,” You moaned into his neck as your hands tangled in his hair lightly pulling it as your orgasm was quickly approaching.
“Then cum for me my handsome gem. Show me how good I feel inside you,” He commanded as he twitched inside of you. A few more thrusts on your sensitive spots made you clench hard and your legs shook as the band in your stomach snapped and you came hard around his cock. Your legs closed around him keeping him inside you. That was the last straw Ezra needed and just like he had promised he came deep inside you with a grunt. You felt his cum fill you up and drip on the sheets below you.
The two of you stayed connected as you both came down from your high. Ezra gently kissed you to ground him back to this planet. He finally pulled out of you and you whimpered at the touch of overstimulation. Ezra kissed your forehead gently, shushing you as he went to the bathroom to grab a washcloth. Careful of your sensitive bit, he cleaned you up making sure to kiss you as he did so. You smiled tiredly, thankful for the tenderness that Ezra was giving you. Once he was finished he took the washcloth back to the bathroom and quickly returned to your side. He slid in beside you and quickly wrapped you in his arms.
You purred as the warmth his grasp gave you. The two of you were quiet for a while before Ezra spoke, “You really are a handsome fellow.”
You sat up a little and gently cupped his cheek in your hand. “Thank you. You really don’t know how much tonight meant to me.” You trace your finger down his chest.
“I’m glad my love could help you gem.” Ezra smiled and kissed your cheek. “If you are so inclined, I wouldn’t mind finding you in my bed again sooner rather than later.”
You blushed and smiled softly. “I would very much like that as well.”
Ezra returned your smile and you kissed him gently into the night. Maybe nightclubs were your thing after all.
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Pedro Character Taglist
@littlemisspascal @burntheedges @carusolikey
#crow and mouse writings#mod mouse writing#ezra prospect#ezra prospect fanfiction#ezra prospect x reader#ezra prospect x you#ezra prospect x trans!reader#ezra prospect smut#prospect 2018#pedro pascal#pedrohub#pedro pascal fandom#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#fanfiction#pedro brainrot
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Periods.
Alastor x TransMale Reader
Sum: Reader gets there monthly thing but this time it causes more pain than you thought.
Alastor knew what the term ‘trans’ meant. He may not know it that well but he’s learning about it everyday because you, his lover, is a Transgender Male. He found out what it meant when you joined the hotel.
He didn’t have much interest in what it was but when he started talking to you and getting to know you he tried his best to understand what went on in your head. He soon got enlightened about what the term non-binary, trans female and trans male.
~
A funny story was he came down the stairs and went to the bar, asking Husker for a drink. You were sitting in the couch reading a book. Angel was there because he had to be when Alastor got an idea for a question. Husk gave him his drink, taking a sip of it as soon as he received it.
“Angel?” He asked as he placed his glass down on the counter. “Tell me, are you..transgender female?” His gaze turning to Angel. Husk quickly spat his drink out and turned around quickly. You dropped your book on the floor and stood up. Vaggie was halfway down the stairs and just started dying in laughter.
“What..?” Angels eyes widened as he blinked at Alastor a few times. “I was just asking if-.” Alastor started before looking around the hotel lobby. “What?” He stated, obviously confused in what he did wrong. “First of all no..second of all, why?” Angels face turned to a weird one but then smirked when wondering why he asked that.
“Well, I was wondering why because you wear such feminine clothes and act so..” He waved his hand around trying to think of a word. “Never mind that, I’m just curious!” He smiled brightly, grabbing the drink again taking another sip from it.
That day Angel told him some pretty traumatizing stuff but he told the truth about what it meant. Giving Alastor a lecture on what to ask and what not to ask if someone is, in fact, trans. He was still confused but felt more confident about the answers he had gotten.
~
When you guys started dating though he would ask left and right about stuff, which you were happy to ask. Telling him things like how the body you were in was not correct, how it didn’t feel right.
It came time for your period..which oh my Lucifer you hate more than anything. You would rather rip out your organs than having to deal with this pain. Waking up from the middle of the night, tired, or course and heading over to the bathroom was not in your to-do list.
Alastor stirred awake because he isn’t a light sleeper, sitting up and waiting for your return. When you came back you looked sad and anxious. Crawling back into bed, trying to go to sleep. “Is everything alright Cher?” He calmly asked. His radio voice soothing you. “Yeah..just tired.” You tried sounding tired and happy. He hummed and kissed your forehead, lying down and turning the opposite way from you.
It became morning sooner than you thought. ‘Damn I feel like shit..’ you thought as you stared at the ceiling. “Good morning dear!” You heard Alastor say as he walked into your guys shared room. “Morning.” You gave him the best smile you could do.
He could obviously tell it was fake but shrugged it off. “Are you feeling alright?” His smile faltered but he still held it high. “Yeah I’m fine!” Your voice was turning a bit aggressive. You were getting quite fed up with him asking you if you were alright.
He was surprised by your sudden outburst but didn’t think much of it. You felt as he got up from your guys shared bed and went into the bathroom. You felt yourself fall asleep when you heard the room door open. You rolled your eyes and just wanted to have the feeling gone.
Alastor walked down the hallway with confidence in what his lover was feeling, though he needed help. ‘Something is clearly making them uncomfortable and upset, what is it?’ He saw Charlie near Angels door, probably asking if he was okay. “Charlie.” He popped up behind her making her jump.
“AH- HOLY SHIT!” She fell on the floor with a thud when she realized it was just Alastor. “Sorry for my sudden appearance but I have a question.” He held out for her to take. “Oh yeah sure, what is it Alastor!” She took his hand and straightened herself up.
“Well my dear. If someone certain was in pain but won’t say what kind it is and refuses to tell what it is, what do you think they’re going through?” He went on a little ramble then blinked at her when he was finished. She blinked a few times before clearing her throat.
“This is a question about [insert name], isn’t it?” She smiled at him. Alastors eyes widened and waved his hand as if it wasn’t you that was causing him to ask. “Ho ho..yes.” His eyes went half lidded as if he was annoyed. Which he was but that was just because Charlie was right.
“Alright well what’s going on with him?” She rose her brow waiting to hear what was wrong with you. “Thats exactly it Charlotte. He seems more..angry? If that’s how you’d like to put it.” Alastor looks off to the side, thinking if that was even the right way to explain it.
“Angry..” Charlie mumbled out, placing a finger in her chin to think about what could possibly make a sinner upset, angry, furious?
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THIS IS EXTREMELY LATE😭 I was originally going to post it A MONTH AGO but when I realized it wasn’t finished I had to finish it. Anyways I wanted to get something out it the public so why not make something that every trans male hates the most? THERES PROBABLY GOING TO BE A PART 2!
ANYWAYS LOVE YOU AND THABK YOU FOR ALL THE LIKES ON THE ANGEL POST❤️
#angel dust hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel#alastor hazbin hotel#charlie morningstar#hazbin x reader#x male reader#asexual#asexual alastor#hazbin x you
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