#i love it when women are full of themselves.

[caracello]

favorite things from duke's penthouse, btw ^.

[herrmit]

not to start shit but. tell me you didn't understand princess jellyfish without telling me you didn't understand princess jellyfish

[batfamfixation]

Actually? Fuck all of the people trying to gatekeep comic book characters that exist in other media. Acting like people can only form opinions about characters based on the comics is bullshit. If someone likes the Teen Titans because of the TV show instead of taking the time to read the thousands of comics "required" to be a "real fan" of those characters, good for them. If someone likes the Young Justice or Justice League cartoons and wants to talk about their love of those characters, they should. If Batman from Batman the Animated Series is a person's favorite version of Batman and their comfort character, GOOD FOR THEM.

This need to gatekeep comic book characters that appear in other media is fucking gross. If someone loves Batman and says he's a great guy because of how he's depicted outside of modern comics, then they're not a "fake" Batman fan, they just love a version of Batman that you don't care about. The same goes for all of the other DC shows and movies. People are allowed to love versions of characters that exist outside of comics and call themselves a fan of that character.

Stop. Gatekeeping. Fictional. Characters

[hoonietual]

see the thing about anime and anime-adjacent things is that i have given up on expecting them to do good on character designs on south/west/southwest asian characters

[gor3sigil]

Before starting T, when I socially transitionned, I was surrounded by radical feminists who saw masculinity as gross and inherently evil, something to avoid, something to make fun of, something to destroy. The other transmascs in my friend group, sometimes, told me that they didn’t knew if they really were non-binary or if they just were scared shitless of saying “I am a man”. Because they saw this as a betrayal to their younger self who had been SAd and abused.

I saw many of my masc friends and trans men around me hate themselves, not outing themselves as men because it would imply so so much, it was like opening the Pandora Box. Even when we were just together, talking about our masculinity was always coated with bits like “I know we’re the privileged ones but…”, “I don’t want to sound like I have it bad but…”, “Women obviously have it worse, but last time…” and we were talking about terrible traumas we experienced while taking all the precautions in the world in the case the walls were a crowd of people in disguise waiting to get us if we didn’t downplay the violence we faced, or like crying and being upset and being traumatized and afraid and scared and to say it out loud would make us throw up the needles we were forced to swallow every second of every day living in our skin.

Most of us weren’t on T yet, some of us were catcalled every day and harassed in the streets or in abusive relationships nobody seemed to care to help them get out of because they were “strong enough” to do it by themselves.

I was using the gender swap face app and cried for ours when I saw my father looking back at me through the screen. The idea of transforming, of shedding into a body that would deprive me of love, tenderness, and safety, was absolutely terrifying. I knew I couldn’t stay in this body any longer because it wasn’t mine, but I also knew that if I was going to look like my dad, my brother, my abusers, it would be so much worse.

5 years later and I’m almost 2 years on T, and almost 2 months post top surgery.

I ditched my previous group of friends. I was bullied out of my local trans community. But let me tell you how free I am.

I was scared that T would break my singing voice: it made it sound more alive than ever.

I was scared that T would make me less attractive: it made me find myself hot for the first time in my life.

I was scared that T would make me gain weight: it did. But the weight I put on is not the weight I used to put on by binging and eating my body until I forgot that it even existed. It’s the weight of my body belonging to me, little by little. The wolf hunger for life.

I won’t tell you the same story I see everywhere, the one that goes “I started going to the gym 8 times a week, I put on some muscles, I started a diet and now I look like an action film actor”, in fact if you took pictures of me from 5 years ago vs now I’d just have more acne, I’d have longer hair and still look like I don’t know what to do with myself when I take selfies.

But the sparkle in my eyes, my smile, tell the whole story way better than this long ass stream of words could ever.

I want to say some things that I wish someone told me before starting medically transitionning.

It’s okay to take your time. It’s your body, it’s your journey, if you don’t feel comfortable taking full doses and want to go slow, the only voice you need to listen to is your own. Do what feels right.

If you feel overwhelmed, it’s okay to take a break, it’s okay to ask for support.

Trans people are holy. Everyone is. You didn’t lose your angel wings when you came out because you want to be masculine. You are not excluded from the joy of existence, from being proud of yourself, from being sad, from being scared, from being angry. The emotions and feelings you allowed yourself to feel while processing what you experienced when you grew up as a girl and was seen as a woman are still as valid as before. Nobody can take that from you. If someone tries to, don’t let them.

It’s perfectly normal to grieve some things you were and had before you started to transition, like your high soprano voice or even your chest. Hatching is painful. You can find comfort in things that don’t feel right, so making the decision to change can be incredibly scary and weird and you deserve to be heard and supported through this. Wanting top surgery doesn’t make the surgery less intense, less terrifying, less painful to recover from. When it becomes too much you have the right to take a break and take some deep breaths before going on.

You don’t have to have a radical, 180° change for your transition to be acceptable or valid or worthy of praise. Look at how far you’ve come already. It doesn’t have to show, you’re not made to be a spectacle, you’re human and it is your journey.

Oh, and last thing, you know when some people say “Oh this trans person has to grow out of the cringy phase where you think that you can write essays about being trans or transitionning or just their experience because it’s weird” ? If you ever hear this or see this online, remember all the people whose writing you read and, even if they were not professional writers, helped you more than any theorists did ? If you want to write, do it. It won’t be a waste. It can help people. Or it won’t, and even then, if it helped you, that’s enough.

Love every of my trans siblings, take care of yourselves. You deserve the world.

[moss-flesh]

ok caved watched bridgerton

[omgthatdress]

The Importance of Studying Queerness in Context.

When studying queer history, one always has to keep in mind two seemingly contradictory things: firstly, that queerness and queer people have always existed, but at the same time, that queerness and queer identities have not always existed the way they exist today.

Modern queer terms and identities did not exist to queer people in the past. They would not have thought of themselves as "gay" or "trans" or even "queer." While these modern terms may seem to fit certain historic individuals, these individuals would not have thought of themselves as such, and it would not be a part of their lived experience. To apply the modern identities of queerness to history is to erase the lives and experiences of queer people in history, and care must always be taken to understand queer history within the context of its time.

When looking at queer history online, there is a *lot* of misinformation and misidentification out there simply because people are eager to apply modern queerness to history, often in places where it doesn't belong.

A lot of old photos get misidentified as gay because they show two people of the same sex showing some level of physical affection towards each other. Okay, I'll admit that the open-mouth kissing photobooth pictures are probably actually gay, but an old picture of two men or two women holding hands or with their arms around each other, or even kissing on the cheek, were common shows of platonic affection.

I hate to break everyone's gay little hearts, but without explicit documentation saying so, assuming that these couples are all gay is putting modern queer identity in places where it simply didn't exist. The women in the final picture are sisters. The "not married" boys are bachelors interested in marrying women.

In the silent film Wings, the emotional climax of the film comes in the form of a kiss exchanged between the characters played by Jack Powell and David Armstrong. It often gets attributed as the first gay kiss in cinema history, even on the fucking YouTube clip I found:

Except it isn't gay. The two men spend the whole film fighting over who gets to be Clara Bow's boyfriend. When Richard Arlen's character is fatally wounded, his dear friend rushes to his side and kisses him goodbye, because in the 1920s, that was considered the ultimate show of friendship. The movie ends with Jack Powell falling in love with Clara Bow.

Similarly, a kiss shared between Lillian and Dorothy Gish in the 1921 movie Orphans of the Storm often gets attributed as being queer, but it wasn't.

They were sisters playing sisters. None of this was considered unusual.

Pooh-poohing on all of these images that so many people on the internet breathlessly and joyously laud as proud gay history isn't fun. It makes me feel like I'm fucking Ben Shapiro. But if misinformation is allowed to flourish, it allows people like Ben Shapiro to come in and make the argument that queerness is a modern invention and queer people didn't exist in the past.

Everyone loves to see queerness represented in history, but the fact is that none of the stuff in this post would have been seen as explicitly gay and thus shouldn't be called gay today. If we are to understand queer history in its fullness and richness, it is absolutely crucial that we get it right. We owe it to our queer ancestors to recognize, honor, and not embellish the actual lives they lived.

[the-californicationist]

They Help You Practice

Task Force 141 asks you to be the bait for a secret assignment. So, they make you audition for the role. You end up getting gangbanged by the whole team and loving it!

TW: gangbang, vaginal sex, anal sex, oral sex, gay sex, degradation, explicitly consensual, spit? please check AO3 link at bottom for full tag list

You let yourself into his office, shutting the door behind you, and stood before him at a sharp parade rest, waiting to be informed about your fate. 

“Sergeant, thank you for coming. There is no need for formalities. This is just a chat.”

You moved to a more relaxed rest and nodded. 

Price continued,

“This is going to be quite the ask. Would you be willing to perform duties which are…outside of your current scope?”

“Yes, sir,” you responded just as you should have, as you were trained to, but Price was hoping you would understand exactly what you would be getting yourself into. 

“I need you to go undercover to a Konni restaurant cover in Minsk…as bait. Am I making myself clear?”

A pause. But, to your credit, you didn’t flinch. You did raise an eyebrow and ask a clarifying query,

“What kind of bait, sir?”

“Our next target, Dimitri Sokolov, will be at the Black Pearl bar in Minsk tomorrow, and we won’t get a better chance to lure him away from his bodyguards. He almost never makes public appearances, so he must be making an exception. Sokolov has,” he paused for a moment, trying to find the words, making general, suggestive motions over his own chest, “particular tastes in his women. You just so happen to have the right profile for the job. Again, this is not an order, Sergeant. I need to know if you’re willing to accept.”

“Yes, sir,” you tried to appear fully in control. You knew your breasts were large, but you had never been asked to use them as a weapon. There was a first time for everything, you supposed. You would do anything to help the team.

The captain loved your composure. He knew you would be perfect for the job. 

“Good. Let's brief the team.”

Price walked with you down to the meeting room at the end of the hall and found Soap, Ghost, and Gaz sitting in the desk chairs every way except the way they were designed, lounging over the furniture like big cats, melting into the various surfaces they encountered. They fixed themselves when the captain walked in. 

“Gentlemen,” Price opened, “this is our bait. Her code name is Rabbit. Rabbit, this is Soap, Ghost, and Gaz.”

You nodded politely and resumed a semi-formal rest position. 

The men had noticed you around the base but hadn’t been formally introduced. You were a desk rider, but still, you were hard to miss. The baggy military clothing had almost managed to conceal a bounty of soft curves, but your lush body persisted beneath it, and the outlines of your feminine form made heinous suggestions in the fabric. Unfortunately for them, you didn’t hang around the gym or the common area enough for them to have generated a fully accurate image of your enticing body, but they were certain it was delicious. They watched you like peckish wolves. Waiting hungrily, shifting in their seats in anticipation. For what, you weren’t sure.

“Rabbit is going undercover for us to take down Sokolov, Vladimir Makarov’s new shipping controller. He has a particular penchant for,” Price paused just long enough for anyone to understand his true meaning, “certain types of women. Rabbit fits the mold, so all she needs is the gear and the training.”

Price cut open three large cardboard boxes to reveal slinky dresses and a number of questionable garments. 

“I’ll need to try them on,” you offered, “Do you want me to get changed, Captain?”

“Sounds good. Come back in when you’re all set,” he smiled, enjoying the view as you left the room. 

Ghost crossed his arms, clearly with quite a mouthful to share and but refusing to. Gaz stared down at the knife he was playing with, bashful. But Soap would not be cowed, and as soon as you left, he said,

“Feeding her to the sharks like bait, Captain? I dinnae ken any of us was so expendable.”

“Soap,” Price warned, “the sergeant is more than capable of handling -”

“I wasnae askin’ about the lassie’s capabilities. Send her in to slit his throat with a knife in her hand, for all I care. But to send her in unguarded, unarmed? No. It’s not right,” Soap crossed his arms. 

“He’s got a point, Captain. Why take the risk of losing an operative?” Ghost spoke coldly. 

Price furrowed his brow at their short-sightedness,

“And do what, exactly? Have the Russians scurry back underground at the first hint of an assassination attempt? We’ve failed that mission three times, boys. I’ll not have this go south again.”

“I’m sure she is capable, Captain. But, is Rabbit committed to this plan?” Gaz asked. 

“Sure,” Price tried to sound reassuring, “we spoke in my office. She agreed to come down here. Besides, she’ll have you three as backup. You won’t let anything happen to her.”

Gaz did not seem convinced. All three soldiers wore a scowl on their faces, and even though Ghost’s was obscured by his mask, his body language communicated his displeasure. Price carefully ashed his cigar to renew the glowing tip, taking a long drag while they waited for you to return. 

You were back without too much of a delay, but when you walked in, your colleagues were visibly stunned. They didn’t recognize you at first. A short black dress had replaced your camouflage fatigues, showing off miles and miles of smooth, shining skin. Your thick thighs stretched the silky fabric, and your ass threatened to escape from the edge of the dress with every step you took. Your new heels clacked sharply against the cold concrete, making your legs flex and tense, showing off your well-formed musculature. You did not miss squat day very often, apparently.

But, the assets you were trying to use for this particular mission were the real stars of the show. Your heavy breasts battled against the low dip of the dress, providing a deep display of cleavage, hinting at pink perky nipples hidden just below the line of the black silk. Your tits jiggled as you struck the floor with each careful step, making the room full of men breathe a little heavier at the sight. 

Soap’s big mouth betrayed them all,

“Christ in Heaven. There you are, bonnie.”

Ghost backhanded him hard on the shoulder. Price glowered.

You had put on a little more makeup than might be socially acceptable in an office setting, making the suggestive outfit complete. Finally, as you stood at the head of the meeting table, you took out your task force regulation braid and pulled your fingers through your hair, breaking up your long waves as they spilled down your neck and back. 

You smiled,

“Well, do I look the part?”

Price coughed, inhaling too much smoke on accident. Gaz hadn’t moved since you walked in the room. He just stood there, dumbfounded, arms held at an odd angle as if frozen in time. Ghost cleared his throat to save them,

“Yes, Rabbit. You clean up very nicely, don’t you?”

“Well,” you sighed, “this is sort of the raunchiest outfit I found in the box. I was going to go with something a bit more casual, but I thought I’d better be noticeable if we’re going to nail this asshole.”

Gaz finally came out of his locked state, aghast,

“Noticeable? Sweetheart, this is more than noticeable. Goddamn.”

“You think it’s too much? I don’t really know what would get his attention,” you shrugged, looking shy as you confessed, “I don’t get asked out very often.”

“You could go out with me, lassie,” Soap edged his way closer to her, slinking around the table, “We’d have a hell of a time, so we would.”

“Don’t listen to Johnny,” Ghost stood in front of him a bit, snaking an arm around your cinched waist, “He thinks takin’ his birds to the dog races is a good date idea.”

“Well, isn’t it?” Soap protested.

Gaz grabbed your hand tenderly, examining your fingers like they were a precious work of art,

“Maybe you could come with me to Berlin next weekend, babes. There’s a killer music festival going on, and we could have a really good time. How does that sound?”

“Boys,” Price interrupted, “I’m sure she has plenty of work to finish here; can’t just be galavanting off with you muppets. In fact, why don’t you stop by my office after this mission, bunny rabbit, and we can work on your projected shipment dates together? You know, I used to be a logistics man, myself.”

Ghost rolled his eyes at the Captain,

“Please, logistics? You drove a truck back and forth on base delivering food to the canteen twenty years ago. I’ve read your file.”

The men all started talking over each other, forgetting your presence in favor of coming out on top of the dog pile. You smiled to yourself, eager to push more of their buttons. 

Slipping one skinny strap down your shoulder, you spoke through the din,

“You know, this dress can be strapless. Do you think Sokolov wants it up…” you locked eyes with Captain Price, seeing his throat swallow hard as he watched you in the silence you had created, “or down?”

The other soldiers were stunned, unable to look away as you slipped both straps off of your shoulders and tucked them into your dress. One strap was still partially visible, and Ghost slowly moved one gloved finger up your arm, tracing your skin lightly, and finished tucking it in for you. He lingered, caressing the side of your breast as he removed it. 

“You gonna be able to seduce this Russian bastard, Sergeant? Or, do you need some practice?” Price asked with a low, threatening tone. 

The whole room held its breath waiting for your answer. The four men towered over your short frame, casting shadows over you like black spells, hoping you would relinquish your control over them. All of their eyes watched as you slowly, achingly lifted a hand and traced it up Gaz’s canvas pant leg, stopping when you discovered the heavy head of his cock, hardening down toward his knee. With the back of your hand, you pet it like a skittish animal, reveling in its smoothness and warmth. Your eyes found his as they fluttered, blood rushing through his body in a panic,

“I think I could use some practice, Captain.”

You felt Gaz’s rod leap at your answer. He bent down to kiss your mouth, slanting his lips fiercely against you. 

Soap came up behind you, gripping your ass through the silk of your dress roughly,

“We’ll help you, lass. We’ll help you practice, won’t we, boys? Jesus, you smell so good,” he buried his face in your neck and sucked against your skin. 

Ghost found your other hand and held it tightly, using it to steady you from Soap and Gaz’s assault. Price moved Gaz out of the way, earning himself a glare, and peeled the dress off of you in one fell swoop, revealing the expanse of uncovered skin underneath. 

“Holy shite,” the captain breathed, whispering his lament, “Sergeant, where are your knickers?”

“I guess I forgot them, Captain,” you blushed, batting your eyes up at him, doing actual damage to his psyche.  

He didn’t have much time to savor the moment though because Ghost was shoving him out of the way to pick you up by the thighs to lay you on the table. The giant knelt between your legs, pulling you by the knees until your ass was hanging off of the low wooden planks. He lifted his mask just enough for you to see him lick his lips over sharp, white teeth before feasting on your wet folds, letting the cloth of the balaclava hide most of his efforts. 

Ghost created a soothing, yet electrically wet warmth in your core which made you keen loudly, only to be muffled by Price’s smoky kiss. You could taste the burned tobacco on his tongue and your skin was scraped by his thick mustache. 

Gaz’s voice got your attention. He had freed his cock from his pants and started to stroke it, standing by your side and playing with your breasts with his free hand as Price savaged your mouth. He tugged on your nipple and told you,

“You know, Rabbit, you’re going to have to really put yourself out there tomorrow. Show him these gorgeous tits of yours. Make him think you’re hungry for his cock,” Gaz rubbed his head, hard and hungry for you, “Can you do that? Let us see how good you can be, princess. We need you to ace this mission”

You felt Ghost dip his hard cock between your pussy lips, distracting you from Price’s tongue in your mouth. You broke the kiss and looked up at Ghost, dazed, into his masked face,

“I promise, sir. I’ll be good,” you looked around at all four of the men, reaching out to grab Soap’s cock that he was stroking for you, “Will you show me how?”

You didn’t give Soap time to answer. The Scot gasped as you devoured him, sucking him down into your throat, making yourself gag as he fucked your throat in and out in long thrusts. He tangled his fingers in your hair. Ghost matched his rhythm below you, pounding his cock into your wet hole. You thought you could feel something on his dick. Was he pierced? You could see your slick gleam on his lips and chin where his mask was still askew. 

“Yeah,” Ghost smiled haughtily, “you like those piercings, don’tcha baby?”

You didn’t have a chance to respond. Price pulled your head away from Soap’s dick, kissing your mouth lewdly again before giving you an order,

“Open your mouth wide for me, love.”

You obeyed. Then, he spit onto your tongue, warm and bubbling, before shoving your face down onto his own fat rod. It made your lips burn with its cruel girth, even though it felt relatively soft, and you thought fleetingly that there was no way your poor little cunt was going to be able to take him, Ghost was big enough to be filling, but the captain was carrying around a true weapon. 

He pulled your head off of him roughly, watching as the strings of drool connected your tongue to his cockhead, growling in short, lustful breaths. 

“Alright, boys. Make sure she’s good and ready for me. You know the drill,” Price barked, and then he was gone. 

The drill? You looked for him, confused, and only found Gaz, who was now slapping his long dick on your cheek, knocking for entrance. He let you take his head into your mouth, having a much easier time than you did with your captain. You bobbed your head up and down dutifully, not realizing just how long his cock was until he tried to force it into your throat. He held you down for a moment, moaning shamelessly, before releasing you to let you breathe. 

“You alright, babes?” He laughed.

You nodded, moaning. Ghost took himself out of your wetness and pulled you off of the table. Soap hopped up to lay where you were, and you moved to ride him, making sure to get right to the edge with him to let Ghost back in. You’d never taken two men at once, much less four, but there was a first time for anything, and you were a quick learner. 

Spearing yourself onto Soap felt like someone had created a warm, custom, living dildo just for you. He was a perfect fit, and you both cried out in pleasure from the sensation. Ghost slapped your ass, hard, and you screamed, clenching around Soap’s cock. Soap moaned darkly. 

“Keep suckin’ that big cock, baby. Need to teach you how to multitask,” Ghost threatened as he bent to eat your asshole, wiggling his tongue into the tight rim to gain entrance.

He started to fuck you with it, his long wet muscle moving in and out as Soap thrust himself up into you, hitting your g-spot every single time like magic. You took Gaz back into your mouth and tried your best to take him deeper into your throat. Every time you did, you would gag, and your muscles would involuntarily clench, and the whole room would moan. You started to come, feeling yourself flood around Soap, whose mouth had latched onto one of your nipples, suckling like he was trying to feed from you. 

You could see Price out of the corner of your eye. He had lit another cigar and was smoking it, stroking himself, still not at his full capacity. You were scared of him. He looked like some sort of demon, breathing fire, as big around as your forearm. He wasn’t as long as Gaz, nor as delightfully curved as Soap, but he made your legs shake without even touching you. When he did touch you, rising from his chair when he wanted to fondle you, pinching a nipple, pulling your hair, forcing your head down on Gaz, it lit you up like you were kerosene and he was the match. 

Suddenly, Ghost’s tongue was gone, only to be replaced by his heavy head. He was going to fuck your ass, and there was nothing you could say to stop him. You’d only done anal once or twice before, and you knew it might hurt. He went so slowly that you could feel each and every piercing as he popped them into you, one by one. Then, as he pulled back out, you felt them pop as each one went through you again, raking himself in and out gently, as careful with you as he could be. When you were more pliant, he began to throw his weight into each thrust, and Soap started to groan below you from the sensation. 

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare, Johnny boy,” Price threatened, his voice full of stern warning. 

You weren’t sure what he was warning him about until Soap pulled his cock out of you and came all over your stomach, Ghost’s thrusts making the fluid smear between you two, rubbing your bodies together. Ghost pulled out next, and you felt his hot, thick ropes spray onto your ass cheeks, melting down your thighs. 

Gaz abandoned your mouth and took over for Soap, feeding himself inch by inch until he found your end, leaving some of his cock out in the cold. He fucked you faster than the others, not caring to move out of the way as Soap rolled off of the table, whining like a whore the whole time. 

Captain Price came around to your face, holding your chin in his hand, looking down at you without pity,

“Garrick’s got a long cock, don’t he, love? You’re being so good for my men, such a good girl. Sweet little slut, hm? You’re going to do so well on this mission. Those areholes won’t know what hit ‘em.”

He grabbed your hair fiercely, hurting your scalp, forcing you to turn and look back at Gaz. Price took a long puff from his cigar, blowing it past your face, 

“Baby, he could fuck you for a hundred years. He’s not gonna come until you scream his name.”

You heard Gaz moan louder at Price’s suggestion, so you did. You screamed for him over and over, not caring who might have heard you, begging for him to come in you. 

“He’s not allowed to come in you, love,” Price kissed your open panting mouth, “But, don’t worry. It’s about to be my turn, and you’ll be feeling my fuckin’ come drip out of your cunt all night long.”

Price’s voice made your blood run cold with fear. He wasn’t making threats. Those were clearly promises. Predictions of the future. His cock was tucked back into the band of his pants, but it lay in wait there like a serpent, eager to strike.

Your heart pounded in your chest as Gaz pulled his long shaft all the way out of you, his come shooting onto your lips and ass, feeling him use his hand to rub it into your skin, making you sticky. Your captain gave him a warning look, and you realized they had done this sort of thing before. Perhaps many times before. As you watched Soap and Ghost comfort each other, breathing close together, touching themselves, you wondered if they ever fucked each other as well. Picturing the four of them rutting into each other made you hungry, deep in your belly, starving to witness such an act. 

Finally, it was your captain’s turn. The look in his eyes made you tremble. You knew he wouldn’t be cruel, not on purpose anyway. He wasn’t a heartless man, but he wasn’t one to hold himself back from what he wanted either. You knew that he would fuck you the way he wanted to, as hard as he wanted to, no matter how much complaining you might do about how his cock would stretch you out - even to the point of pain. 

“On your back, love. Legs up. Spread that pussy open for me,” he commanded. 

You did as he told you, opening yourself up shamelessly, letting your folds spread wide. 

He walked around the table to gaze upon your form, staring at your pink flesh like it was a hot meal, and he was starving. He moaned, rubbing his hand across your sticky mons, 

“Mm, that’s my pretty little Rabbit. Now…” he paused for effect, sinking three fingers into your hole roughly but ever so slowly, twisting his arm as he did, corkscrewing his knuckles into you, “...I want you to understand that there’s a reason I’m last in line, love.”

You cried out from the pressure of his huge hand. It felt like you were going to tear. Then, after a few hard thrusts, he released you. The emptiness you felt was heartbreaking. You looked for him, pleading with your eyes for him to return to you. He pulled his cock free from his waistband, unable to connect his finger to his thumb as he wrapped around it. You whined involuntarily, something animal in you recognizing its fate. 

“Shh, baby, I know,” he drug out his voice, “I know…”

He positioned the heavy shaft on top of your body, measuring himself from base to tip, reaching your navel. As he slapped it against you, it made a loud thudding noise, slamming into your muscles like a fist. Price was so heavy. You’d never even imagined a man could feel like he was pure, warm, thick marble. Your pussy seemed to understand the panic you were feeling, flooding itself, preparing for the upcoming invasion. 

“I’m so fuckin’ eager for you, love,” he slapped you again, quick taps right to your swollen clit.

Then, he put his head inside of you, squeezing himself in. He left it inside of you and started to pump himself with his hand. Between the vibration from his fist and the fact that it felt like you were sitting on the end of a steel bat, you couldn’t hold back your keening, loud and high-pitched. 

Price began the steady, slow march forward, swelling harder and harder by the moment, making your walls feel like they might break. It seemed as if all the blood in your body was rushing down your belly and up your legs, hurrying to your core. 

Your eye were wild, full of your fear, tears forming at the corners of your eyes,

“I can’t, please! I can’t. It’s too big, fuck…”

Price didn’t stop. He just kept feeding himself in and pulling himself back out, wetting his cock’s skin with your soaking hole. 

“You can, and you will, love,” the captain growled, “Now, shut that pretty mouth and take it.”

Your cheeks were wet and your eyes burned, he was so deep within you that it felt like he was thrusting into your throat. You couldn’t breathe.

Suddenly, Soap grabbed your hand, kissing your palm, using his tongue to lick your skin,

“It’s alright, bonnie. I’m here, lass. Breathe with me, lass.”

He bent down to kiss you, but he didn’t quite connect, letting his lips graze yours featherlight. Soap breathed in and breathed out in steady, measured beats. You felt yourself begin to relax. It had such an immediate effect that you heard Price groan, able to slip himself a bit deeper than he had done. 

It was like a chain reaction, the more relaxed you became, breathing with Soap, feeling him suck and lick your nipples softly, the more Price was able to squeeze himself in. 

Finally, you felt his hair at the base of his cock, thick and curled, and as he sighed, he settled inside of you, impossibly pressing against your whole body, making a clear outline of himself in your lower belly. He rubbed it, almost fondly, and you felt every inch of him throb against your walls, his head bullying your womb.

You cried out again from the strain. Ghost and Gaz joined Soap. Gaz began to suckle from your breast on your left side, fondling himself as he did so, getting hard again. Ghost was at your head on the end of the table, and he bent to kiss you, upside down, his tongue running all the way down your throat, long and slippery against your own. 

He pulled away, petting your cheek as Price began to grind himself into you,

“You alright, Rabbit? You enjoying your captain’s cock, hm?”

“Mm hm,” you whispered, whimpering through your tears.

Ghost smiled, and his straight, white teeth looked menacing as he did, sharp, wolf-like,

“I know you are, babe. You’re doing so well. Look at him. You can see him inside of your cunt.”

He lifted your head by your hair, showing you the grotesque shadow of Price’s heavy rod as it shoved itself into you. You reached your hands down to it, feeling it through your skin. It was so unique. His size wasn’t like anything you’d ever experienced, and your body was sending confused signals of passion, your orgasms coming in shattered, broken waves. Feeling incomplete. Too powerful, and yet drawn out like the last note of a symphony. 

As you touched him from the outside, Price moaned aloud for the first time. It shocked you. You looked up at him, managing to meet his eyes.

“Fuck,” you moaned, “You feel so good inside of me, Captain.”

“Mm, yeah?” He replied, using his hands to press yours down onto his cock, making you gasp, “You like it, baby? I’m gonna make sure you never want anybody else.” 

Price reached down and grabbed you by the throat, scaring away Soap and Gaz. He lifted you up, making his dick fit inside of you that much tighter with the change of angle. Then, he began the true performance. He thrust himself in with fast, punishing strokes, slamming himself into you. You were sure you would bruise, and you felt dizzy, almost like you’d pass out. 

Soap was at your side again, holding your hair away from your face,

“Look at you, lassie. Such a good girl for your captain. Takin’ that cock so damn well. Can’t wait to be back inside you, girl.”

He kissed your cheek, palm massaging his dick which was back to full mast, eager again. 

“Alright, Johnny,” Price grinned, “Since you asked so nicely.”

Without any strain whatsoever, Price lifted you up by your hips and held you in the air as he fucked you, bringing you around the table so that Soap could position himself at your asshole. Ghost’s earlier efforts had made it ready for him, and you could very acutely feel how much he was throbbing to be inside of you, pulsing as he fit against Price. 

“Ungh, fuck, lass,” Soap groaned as he began to thrust into you, pistoning with the captain, “He’s got you so tight for me.”

“Yeah? It feels so good. Mmm…” you whimpered, feeling more full than you’d ever been. 

Johnny was holding your breasts as Price lifted you up, brutalizing your pussy. Every thrust felt like an electric pulse, making you cock-drunk and mindlessly pliant. 

They worked in tandem for what felt like eons, pistoning in and out with each other. Eventually, after he had felt you come, Soap addressed his captain directly,

“Sir, I’m…please, sir, can I?”

“Can you what, soldier?” Price grunted through gritted teeth, testing his sergeant.

“Can I come, sir? Please, Cap…”

“Yeah, Johnny. C’mon, mate. Let her feel it.”

“F-fuck! Fuck…” Soap groaned, pushing himself flush against your asshole, pumping his come into you. 

He caught his breath while he was still in you, kissing the nape of your neck, and then he pulled away slowly. He helped Gaz replace him, holding your ass wide apart so his comrade could position himself inside. And just when you thought your poor pussy would have room to breathe, Gaz’s incredibly long shaft was piercing your hole again. 

You felt him sigh, his breath against your neck. He took over holding you up, and Price praised him,

“That’s it, Garrick. She’s all yours. Take it.”

Gaz reacted to his words in a way that made you rethink their entire dynamic. Then, you remembered how he had come when you said his name. He seemed to get harder and harder the more Price praised him, and you wanted to give him that same validation. 

“Gaz,” you whispered, leaning your head back to rest on his shoulder, “It’s so big, baby. It’s like I can feel you in my throat. Oh, Gaz. Gaz!”

“Mm,” Price put his mouth to your neck, groaning, “That’s it, love. Tell him how much you like that long cock.”

“So much, Gaz. It’s so good,” you added. 

Then, Price took his left hand and wrapped it around the back of Gaz’s neck in a moment of surprising intimacy. As Price kissed the front of your throat, Gaz kissed your shoulder and nape. You felt like a peeled fruit being shared between them, a ripped rind, your juicy flesh being split in two; two halves of a ripe orange. 

Gaz lasted longer than Soap had when he fucked your ass, but Price’s attention seemed to spur him on. His movements were slippery, and you could feel the remnants of Soap’s come frothing around your entrance, easing his efforts.

“Captain,” Gaz whined, desperate for more of that approval. 

“C’mon, Kyle. She’s ready for you. Good lad.”

The use of his first name made Gaz thrust up into you with a feverish pace. He cried out as he came, hard, into you. Feeling him fall back out of you made you imagine the tendrils of a giant kraken, seeming to travel forever just to remove himself from your body, slithering out of you with a terrible squelching noise. 

Gaz let Price hold you again, and you turned, expecting Ghost. Price laughed at you, chuckling softly,

“Missing your masked man already?”

You looked at Price, feeling raw and used, waiting for an explanation,

“He’s a little…preoccupied.”

Price laid you back on the table, letting you turn your head to see Ghost, buried in Soap’s asshole up to the hilt, furiously jacking him off, slamming into him a little too roughly for your liking. It was violent, but Soap seemed to be enjoying himself beyond measure. 

Your pussy, though, disagreed with your assessment, clenching around Price’s cock while you watched Simon abuse his friend’s hole. 

“Mm,” the captain moaned, feeling your muscles react, “You like that, love? You wanna be fucked rough like that?”

He didn’t give you a chance to answer. Price wrapped your legs beneath his chest in a full mating press and wrecked you, pounding into your body like a giant fist. You felt your bones shudder beneath his behemoth form. Just when you thought you might puke from how overstimulated you were, you felt him pause. Then, your pussy felt like it was leaking, and it was. Price’s come just kept milking its way out of you, his cock pulsing inside, making your walls throb. 

When he finished, he kissed you on the mouth, almost lovingly, reverently. He started to slide out of you, being extremely careful, and you’d never felt so empty in your entire life. It was as if you’d never be full again. You found yourself whining, whimpering for Price to return. 

“That’s right, pretty girl,” Price smiled, “Never gonna want anybody else, are ya?”

You smiled, shocked and in considerable discomfort. Gaz scooped you up off of the table, cradling you, sitting down with you in his lap in a large chair. He reached down for some water and handed it to you, helping you recover. 

Price was standing with his hands on his hips, panting from his exertion. Ghost and Soap were connected like two hounds, locked together, the Scot cock warming his tall lover, groaning on every exhale. 

“Well, what do you think, lads? Do we have a winner?” Price asked.

“Yeah, we fucking do, Cap,” Gaz pet your head, moving your sweaty hair out of your eyes. 

“Fuck yeah, mate,” Ghost growled, pawing at Johnny again, rabid for him. 

“Hear that, bonnie?” Soap managed to ask, still moaning in little breaths as he was being speared by Ghost, “Got  yourself a new permanent assignment.”

Price walked over to you, grabbing you by the face and kissing you once more,

“You belong to us now, love. Perfect little slut.”

AO3 Link

[creatingblackcharacters]

"Let's Have a Talk, First"- Stereotypes, pt 1

Come sit down. You and I, before we get into any of the things I'm sure you're impatient to know: we need to have a come to Jesus talk, first.

There are some things that I've been asked and seen that strengthens my belief that we need to have a reframing of the conversation on stereotypes in media away from something as simple as "how do I find the checklist of stereotypes to avoid". Because race- and therefore racial stereotypes- is a complex construct! Stands to reason then, that seeing, understanding, and avoiding it won't be that simple! I'm going to give you a couple pointers to (hopefully) help you rethink your approach to this topic, and therefore how to apply it when you're writing Black characters- and even when thinking about Black people!

Point #1: DEVELOP THE CHARACTER!! WRITE!!

Excuse my crude language, but let me be blunt: Black people- and therefore Black characters- will get angry at things, and occasionally make bad choices in the heat of the moment. Some of us like to fuck real nasty, some might be dominant in the bedroom, they may even be incredibly experienced! Others of us succumb to circumstance and make poor decisions that lead to crime.

None of those things inherently makes any of us angry Black women and threatening Black men, Jezebels and BBC Mandingos, and gangsters and thugs!

Black people are PEOPLE! Write us as such!

If all Black characters ever did was go outside, say "hi neighbor!" and walk back in the house, we'd be as boring as racist fans often accuse.

I say this because I feel I've seen advice that I feel makes people think writing a Black character that… Emotes negatively, or gets hurt by life and circumstance, or really enjoys hard sex, or really any scenario where they might "look bad" is the issue. I can tell many people think "well if I write that, then it's a stereotype" and to avoid the difficulty, they'll probably end up writing a flat Black character or not writing them at all. Or- and I've seen this too- they'll overcompensate in the other direction, which reveals that they 'wrote a different sort of Black person!' and it comes off just as awkwardly because it means you think that the Black people that do these things are 'bad'. And I hate that, because we're capable of depth, nuance, good, evil, adventure, world domination, all of it!

My point is, if you write your character like the human being they are, while taking care to recognize that you as the writer are not buying into stereotypes with your OWN messaging, you're fine. We have emotions, we have motivations and goals, we make decisions, and we make mistakes, just like anybody else. Write that! Develop your character!

POINT #2: YOU CAN'T CONTROL THE READERS!!

Okay. You can write the GREATEST Black character ever, full of depth, love, nuance, emotional range, all those things…. And people are still going to be racist about them. Sorry. There is absolutely nothing you can do to control a reader coming from that place of bias you sought to avoid. If it's not there, TRUST AND BELIEVE, it'll be projected onto them.

That passionate young Black woman who told the MC to get her head out of her ass? Yeah she's an angry Black bitch now, and bully to the sweet white MC. Maybe a lesbian mommy figure if they like her enough to "redeem" her. That Black gay male lead that treats his partner like he worships the ground he walks on? Yeah he's an abusive thug that needs to die now because he disagreed One Time with his white partner. That Black trans woman who happened to be competing against the white MC, in a story where the white MC makes comparable choices? Ohhhh they're gonna be VILE about that poor woman.

It really hurts- most especially as a Black fan and writer- knowing that you have something amazing to offer (as a person and creative) and people are gonna spit on that and call it "preference". That they can project themselves onto white characters no matter what, but if you project your experiences onto black characters, it's "pandering", "self insert", "woke", "annoying", "boring", and other foul things we've all gotten comments of.

But expect that it's gonna happen when you write a Black character, again, especially if you're a Black writer. If you're not Black, it won't hurt as personally, but it will probably come as a shock when you put so much effort in to create a lovely character and people are just ass about them. Unfortunately, that is the climate of fandom we currently exist in.

My favorite example is of Louis De Pointe Du Lac from AMC's Interview With The Vampire. Louis is actually one of the best depictions of the existential horror that is being Black in a racist White world I have ever seen written by mostly nonblack people. It was timeless; I related to every single source of racist pain he experienced.

People were HORRIFIC about Louis.

It didn't matter that he was well written and what he symbolized; many white viewers did NOT LIKE this man. There's a level of empathy and understanding that Black characters in particular don't receive in comparison to white counterparts, and that's due to many of those stereotypes and systemic biases I'm going to talk about.

My point is, recognize that while yes, you as the author have a duty to write a character thoughtfully as you can, it's not going to stop the response of the ignorant. Writing seeking to get everyone to understand what you were trying to do… Sisyphean effort. It's better to focus on knowing that YOU wrote something good, that YOU did not write the stereotype that those people are determined to see.

POINT #3: WHY is something a stereotype?

While there are lists of stereotypes against Black people in media and life that can be found, I would appreciate if people stopped approaching it as just a list of things you can check off to avoid. You can know what the stereotypes are, sure, but if you don't understand WHY they're a problem and how they play into perception of us, you'll either end up writing a flat character trying to avoid that list, or you're going to write other things related to that stereotype because "oh its not item #1"... and it'll still be racist.

For example: if you wrote a "sassy Black woman" that does a z formation neck rotation just because a store manager asked her something… that's probably stereotype. If you thought of a character that needed to be "loudmouthed", "sassy", and "strong" and a dark-skinned black woman was automatically what fit the profile in your mind, ding ding ding! THAT'S where you need to catch your racist biases.

But a dark-skinned Black woman character cursing out a store manager because she's had a really bad, stressful day and their attitude towards her pushed her over the edge may be in the wrong, but she's not an "angry Black woman". She's a Black woman that's angry! And if you wrote the day she had to be as bad as would drive anyone to overstimulation and anxiety, the blow up will make sense! The development and writing behind her led to this logical point (which connects to point #1!)

I'm not going to provide a truly exhaustive list of Black stereotypes in media because that would ACTUALLY be worth a college credited class and I do this for free lmao. But I am going to provide some classic examples that can get y'all started on your own research.

POINT #4: WATCH BLACK NARRATIVES!

As always, I'm gonna push supporting Black creators, because that's the best way to see the range of what you'd like. You want to see Black villains? We got those! Black heroes? Black antiheroes? Assholes, lovers, comedians, depressed, criminals, kings, and more? They exist! You can get inspired by watching those movies and reading those books, see how WE depict us!

I've seen mixed reviews on it, BUT- I personally really enjoyed Swarm, because it was one of the first times I'd ever seen that "unhinged obsessed murderous Black fan girl" concept. Tumblr usually loves that shit lmao. Even the "bites you bites you bites you [thing I love]" thing was there. And she liked girls, too. Just saying. I thought it was a fun idea that I'd love to see more of. Y'all gotta give us a chance to be in these roles, to tell these tales. We can do it too, and you'd enjoy it if you tried to understand it!

POINT#5: You are NOT Black!

This is obvious lmao, but if you're not Black, there's no need to pretend. There's no need to think "oh well I have to get a 100% perfect depiction of the Black person's mind". That's… That's gonna look cringe, at its best. You don't have to do that in order to avoid stereotypes. You're not going to be able to catch every nuance because it's not your lived experience, nor is it the societally enforced culture. Just… Do what you can, and if you feel like it's coming off hokey… Maybe consider if you want to continue this way lol. If you know of any Black beta readers or sensitivity reviewers, that'd be a good time to check in!

For example, if your Black character is talking about "what's good my homie" and there's absolutely no reason for him to be speaking that way other than to indicate that he's Black… 😬 I can't stop you but… Are you sure?

An egregious example of a TERRIBLE way to write a Black character is the "What If: Miles Morales/Thor" comic. I want to emphasize the lack of good Black character design involved in some of these PROFESSIONAL art spaces, because that MARVEL comic PASSED QA!! That comic went past NUMEROUS sets of eyes and was APPROVED!! IT GOT RELEASED!! NO ONE STOPPED IT!!

I'm sorry, it was just so racist-ly bad that it was hilarious. Like you couldn't make that shit up.

Anyway, unfortunately that's how some of y'all sound trying to write AAVE. I promise that we speak the Queen's English too lmao. If you're worried you won't get it right, just use the standard form of English. It's fine! Personally, I'd much rather you do that than try to 'decode AAVE' if you don't know how to use it.

My point is, if you're actively "forcing" yourself to "think Black"… maybe you need to stand down and reconsider your approach lmao. This is why understanding the stereotypes and social environment behind them will help you write better, because you can incorporate that Blackness- without having to verbally "emphasize how Black this is"- into their character, motivations, and actions.

Conclusion

We need to reconsider how we approach the concepts of stereotypes when writing our Black characters. The goal is not to cross off a checklist of things to avoid per se, but to understand WHY we have to develop our Black characters well enough to avoid incorporating them into our writing. Give your Black characters substance- we're human beings! We have motivations and fears and desires! We're not perfect, but we're not inherently flawed because of our race. That's what makes the difference!

And as always, and really in particular for this topic, it's the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!

[astrobydalia]

The different inner placements for each sign — observations+ranking

by astrobydalia

Disclaimer: these are based on my personal experience and opinions!!

Aries

Mercury: so insanely smart and fast thinkers. Very real, straight to the point and say-it-like-it-is kind of people, love them. I could hear them talk all day

ASC: most authentic people you'll meet!!! What you see is what you get. Also very spontaneous and effortlessly fun

Venus: love, so fun to be around and specially the women with this placement they're soooo hot

Sun, Mars: these are very similar imo. so loyal and protective people but they tend to be pretty crass and often come across as rude unintentionally. Aries Suns are more blunt and outspoken while Aries Mars can be more chill but they're more prone to attracting hate. Great people to have in your corner overall.

Moon: Stubborn as fuck. Not open to understanding anything beyond themselves so they tend go around life with HUGE tunnel vision. Trying to reason/negotiate with them is nearly impossible

Taurus

Moon: my god, you won't know emotional intelligence, calmness and care until you meet a Taurus Moon like DAMN. Their patience, empathy and sense of boundaries is just impecable

ASC: their energy is sooooo soothing like ugh. They have a very cute and comforting aura, very magnetic people and naturally gorgeous

Mercury: they speak slow or not too much but once they let a full sentence out it's usually GOLD

Sun: hmmmm they do tend to be kinda full of themselves but they have BDE and are pretty hot so I'll give them that

Mars: VOICE is soooo good. However they tend to be low-key problematic tbh. Will get very snappy and petty real quick

Venus: I know this is venus's domicile but... most taurus venus I've seen were low-key kinda..... harsh and stern in their love style?? And not all that loyal if im honest with you, they're only loyal when they see personal benefit/satisfaction. It’s true that they’ll spoil you if they truly love you tho

Gemini

Mars: comeback queens/kings, also very multi-talented. What else can I say they always manage to be so iconic

Moon: out of all gemini placements they're the most likely to sit down and really listen to you. Can be too honest, another say-it-like-it-is placement. Comforting others is not their forte but they're very tolerant and patient

Venus: golden retriever energy, extroverted and popular and I've said this before but they can be very loyal!!

Sun: they are cool and so so funny but can also be veeeeery immature and a bit self-righteous. I love them but that bad press they have in pop culture exists for a reason that's all im gonna say

ASC: they're very intelligent and entertaining but gemini on the asc is such a messy placement imo cause they have an identity/existencial crisis at least twice a day which can make them kinda chaotic people to have in your life (love you guys tho)

Mercury: talking with them is VERY annoying tbh. They will just roughly listen to what you say just keep interrupting and eventually start their own monologue. They ain't listening they aren't even wanting for their turn to speak they're just waiting for whatever opportunity to speak

Cancer

Mercury: such good listeners!! also they are very honest and genuine with what they say like aries mercury but more tactful

Venus: this placement soothes down the most fiery personality. They are very loved and inexplicably magnetic

ASC: mommy issues. I love their intuition and they are really good at creating community wherever they go but my only complaint is they are defensive 24/7

Moon: hit or miss. Either really emotionally mature person that wants to take care of everyone or very immature and childish with a victim complex

Sun: huge attention seekers. Insecure, codependent and always looking for validation. Tend to portray themselves as innocent/clueless/harmless, etc.

Mars: these are SLY motherfuckers, they scare me more than scorpio mars

Leo

Moon: I have to admit this placement surprised me for the better. Yes they can be egotistical and entitled but when developed leo moons are very profound and passionate people with strong morals and are really good at inspiring others and lifting them up

Sun: the main character complex rumors may or may not be true but their magnetism and charm is undeniable

Mars: extremely prideful, my way or the highway kinda attitude, but they’re usually pretty harmless people from what I’ve seen. Their anger can be intense but they let it go easily after some dramatic moment. Dedicated.

ASC: daddy issues central. Known to be the most introverted leo placement but they’re very very very attached to their pride underneath. They really do wanna be/feel special and unique to the point of keeping most people at arm’s length cause that’s how much they wanna distinct themselves

Mercury: won’t hesitate to change topics if they don’t care what is being talked about or it has nothing to do with them. Laser focused on their interests tho that’s pretty cool

Venus: yeah they're generous but also a bit overbearing and low-key snotty. Tendency to associate themselves with people they don’t like all that much just because it gives them status or cause they get to receive lavish treatment

Virgo

Mars: omfg I love this placement so much. They handle conflict with SO much grace and embody all the good traits of virgo (capable, responsible, hard workers, great to work with, helpful, self-accountable....) *lady gaga's voice* talented brilliant incredible amazing show-stopping spectacular-

Venus: genuinely very responsable, dedicated and loyal in their relationships and commitments. I always find myself often complimenting their style and fashion choices

Mercury: a bit of a menace bc they can be good liars but they're always very very talented individuals in whatever it is they do

ASC: pretty self-serving tbh and often come across as goody-two-shoes or know-it-alls but they're alright for the most part. The virgo placement that has it the LEAST together tbh

Moon: they'll be there for you when you need help or advice but they can be pretty judgmental. They have a tendency to not really give people some grace. If they genuinely like you tho they’ll be extremely appreciative of everything you do right. Supportive

Sun: Very standoffish personality. Hard on themselves on the surface but probably also has a hidden superiority complex. The only placement where I prefer the men over the women

Libra

Moon: least superficial libra placement. Very introspective, sweet and find it really easy to understand other's emotions in an unbiased way

Mercury: invented the concept of understanding and voicing other perspectives with necessarily agreeing. Mind of their own.

Venus: superficial and obsessed with the opposite sex? Yes. Extremely devoted in all their relationships? Also yes.

Sun: meh. I keep having this experience with Libra Suns where I think they're great at first but then they end up being... not so great after some time. They're not bad really but their air-headedness makes them very unreliable

ASC: Their charm is manipulative and can easily hide a shitty personality underneath (not always the case tho). They're also the most emotionally superficial/detached of the bunch

Mars: hypocrates, huge huge hypocrates. Dubious morality. Playing devils advocate

Scorpio

Sun: they mind their own business and are really good at picking their battles wisely, only taking out their “dark” energy when it’s needed

Mars: don’t bother them and they won’t bother you. That’s the golden rule. Otherwise they’re pretty chill and unproblematic, dark humor enjoyers and strong-willed. I won’t say they’re completely drama free but hey

Mercury: they’ll be open to talk about anything, you can tell them literally anything and will listen intently without judgement. They can easily use info against others or withhold info tho so make sure they can be trusted

ASC: y’all low-key enjoy toxicity and drama but you don’t wanna admit it!!! They really thrive in uncomfortable situations and probably likes gossip too. One of the most black-or-white mindset placements

Venus: yeah not the best in relationships. They don’t really give their all and when they do give something it’s never unconditional. Relationships are always a power dynamic to them

Moon: Very tricky placement. Life has not been kind to them oof. Either they’re very traumatized people with a good heart deep down or very traumatized people with a really ugly and nasty soul. They also romanticize psychopaths and antisocial behaviors for some reason?????

Sagittarius

ASC: yes Im biased I don't care. But, be honest, when have you met a sag asc that wasn't cool af? Case closed. Life's good as a sag asc and when it's not, we make it that way

Sun: if you keep the men out of the equation sag suns are amazing!!! Their personality is like a breath of fresh air

Mercury: soso profound and intelligent. Will introduce you to new perspectives, great researchers. So good at finding answers and solutions!!!

Venus: Very open-minded, they are genuinely very accepting of literally any kind of person! They will applaud and celebrate your differences and quirks however they tend to be flighty and pretty light on their feet

Moon: Anger issues!!! Very volatile and defensive people underneath that chill and funny persona. They have well-known beef with someone. Don't like admitting their wrong, prone to ghosting everyone 99% of the times

Mars: the most entitled and rude out of all the sagittarius placements. The type to laugh in your face and never take accountability, their attitude can be revolting if you ask me

Capricorn

Venus: they make me MELT. So incredibly attractive, reliable, such an impecable taste, the way they treat you will bring you to your knees like ugh I can't

Mars: most resilient individuals I've seen truly!! Literally nothing will bring them down. So so ambitious, focused and have endless energy love them

Sun: cap suns and I have natural synergy. They're very level-headed, reliable, loyal and mature. However they are huge fatalists, very pessimistic and my jupiterian ass ain’t got time for that

ASC: too obsessed with their status and/or how they're perceived compared to others in their circle like sis stop caring sm what others think and live a little!!!

Mercury: listen, these folks can be very intelligent and well-read, but they tend to come across as narrow-minded or bigoted sometimes with the things the say or how they say things

Moon: I wanna root for y'all cap moons but being honest I've seen this placement is very common in really toxic personalities. They hold lots of past resentments and can be very judgmental and mean similar to virgo moons

Aquarius

ASC: socially adaptable but they stay true to themselves at the same time. Attractive, loyal and fresh personality/presence.

Mars: veeeery likable and popular. They really are dedicated to making an impact on the people

Sun: when they just simply focus on being themselves and doing their own thing they're very genuinely special and chill people and great friends! However when they care too much about being making themselves special they're very egocentric and unnecessarily problematic

Venus: messy placement. Very welcoming but they have big trust issues. They go back and forth between 'everyone loves me' and 'everyone hates me' and so they act accordingly....

Mercury: super intelligent, great in debates and very convincing, they always make great points. However the god complex is BLATANT here, they really think they're the only one that's right

Moon: another deeply traumatized placement. They can be great advocates for the collective however they tend to lack empathy specially when it comes to interpersonal relationships

Pisces

Sun: rough around the edges at first but they are a lot more helpless and vulnerable than they seem on the surface. Also they are genuinely really good at disappearing??? You won't even notice they're gone. Their presence is striking tho

Mercury: "idk what the fuck she's saying but girl I am living!". They have such a rich inner world I can't. SEDUCTIVE

ASC: they are... functioning humans. They go around life not being completely sure of what's going on but hey that Jupiter is somehow making everything work for them

Moon: "There is an idea of Pisces Moons, some kind of abstraction, but there is no real them. Only an entity, something illusory. And though they can hide their wondering gaze, and you can shake their hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense your life styles are probably comparable, they simply are not there"

Venus: I've already spilled the tea on this placement. Next.

Mars: ever person I've seen with this placement was mentally unwell like, severely. They're doormats for the most part but there's this hidden side of them that can turn into a total demon

by astrobydalia

[twoyara]

As an Asian woman, it makes me laugh how libfems try to degrade the whole radical feminism movement by calling it "white feminism". When in fact it is libfems who are white feminists, and never the other way around.

It's they some white privileged twitter dumbasses who have never seen what a REAL poor life is like in their lives, that sit around thinking that prostitution is okay and there's no shame in surrogacy, knowing full well that the victims of these "jobs" are we, women of color.

Women who escaped their countries from dictatorships, poverty and lack of any women's rights to more "progressive" countries, without knowing language or having papers, thinking they had gone to a better life where they would be helped, only to find themselves as a piece of meat for men's amusement.

So libfem, shut the fuck up. I can't take your bullshit. And it's good to know that radical feminism is prevalent in my republic, as it is in most Asian countries. I love all my Asian sisters that I interact with now and have been able to interact with in the past, in all the years I have spent in this wonderful movement❤️❤️

[starkeyisthelastname]

can you plzzzz write more pornstar!rafe i love him !!

pornstar!rafe is a different breed of dirty 😿

Pornstar!Rafe who had no idea what he was doing at the door of your apartment a few weeks after the scene you had shot together. He had fucked a lot of women, on and off camera. Never did he once go back for seconds, he just wasn’t that type of man. Maybe it was perverted of him to pay your agent to give him your address, but nonetheless it worked for him as he knew it would. He kept thinking about you, and he didn’t know why. Sure he fucked a lot of pretty girls, but something about you made him want more.

You looked up in surprise when you heard a late-night knock on the door, wondering who could be visiting at such an hour. Due to your line of work, you didn't have many friends or family, so unexpected visitors were a rarity. Slowly getting up, you made your way to the door and looked out the peephole. “Rafe?” You whispered to yourself, feeling your stomach drop. How did he know where you lived? What was he doing here? It made you nervous but in such a curious way.

As you opened your door, you immediately noticed his towering figure. His piercing blue eyes met yours, drawing you in. It had slipped your mind just how imposing his height was, even when dressed casually. A baseball cap concealed his messy blonde mullet, while a simple t-shirt and loose-fitting jeans accentuated his broad physique. You saw the familiar smirk come to his face, making your pussy flutter and forget any concerns you had on why he was there in the first place.

“Keep your fuckin legs up.” Rafe spat, a head full of dirty blonde hair in between your spread thighs as he ate your pussy like a starved dirty man.

It had been all of 15 minutes and this man already had you on the brink of an orgasm by just his tongue. The way his head moved back and forth, smearing your sweet and sticky juices across his thick mustache, had you gasping while you tried to hold your legs back. Your body was becoming limp though, his pert nose rubbing against your swollen clit as his tongue rapidly licked through your soaked folds.

One hand that was hooked on the underside of your thigh, fell as your stomach tightened and eyes started rolling back. You felt two thick digits slide into your creamy hole, pushing themselves to hit your G-spot. “O-oh fuck…Rafe.” You mumbled, eyebrows squeezing together as your eyes came back to watch him.

“Greedy fuckin hole likes gettin' finger fucked, huh?” His words were dirty, only making you clench around them as he shot you that cocky smirk.

You nodded, mouth falling open as he drilled them in and out of your leaking cunt with brutal force. You wondered if he would be just as nasty off camera, but never thought you'd see him again unless you filmed another scene together. (At least you were hoping you two would.) He was proving to you that his porn acting was who he was as a person, and he was just as filthy as he was on camera.

That smirk faded as you refused to answer him, his blue eyes darkening into something a little more sinister. Abruptly pulling his fingers out, he shoved them inside your open mouth, pushing them deep until you gagged. His other hand came to your poor pussy, slapping it roughly as you squealed around his digits at the hard smack. It wasn't until he shoved three fingers in without warning that you realized he was not playing.

“Not a big fan of repeating myself. Yeah, slut? So I suggest you answer my fuckin question.” His voice low as he stood up to lean over you. He removed his fingers from your mouth, wrapping a hand around your throat to squeeze.

His left hand moved inside you at a rapid pace, repeatedly bruising your sweet spot as he choked a reply out of you. This man was on a whole other type of level, and you knew you couldn’t hold back any longer. “Please… k-keep fingering me. D-don’t stop. Gonna cum so hard.” Your voice strained as he applied pressure against your neck.

You could feel your eyes rolling back again, head spinning and cunt pulsing as one more push of his fingers did your climax hit. In the porn industry, you weren’t known for being a squirter. There you were though, letting a fountain of clear liquid spray both of your bodies as you completely let go.

You barely had time to recover, before you were flipped over with ease, thick cock cramming itself in your sopping cunt as he yanked your hair back. “You better fuckin start listening to me. I don’t ever fuck a girl twice, even on camera. Feel lucky I wanna make you my own personal whore.” He rasped in your ear, the butterflies hitting your tummy at the thought of having this deranged man in your guts over and over again.

[pseudowho]

ummmmmmmmmmmm so i really haven’t been able to get that nanami thirst out of my head, the one where he has girls vying for his attention at all times but he only has eyes for you. THAT ONE MADE ME WANNA START KNAWING ON MY PHONE I LOVE YOUR WRITING BTW but can i possibly ask for something like how the reader takes nanami home after a nice, long, and full day of girls falling over themselves to get his attention and absolutely rocks his world to show that he’s yours….. you get my drift 🌚🌚🌚 (sorry if this ask is too long ive just been thinking about your writing and nothing elseeee 😭)

Oh, you mean THIS OLD THING? I get you...it's hot.

...anyway:

"I'm just sick of it, frankly. It's disrespectful. A total wild abandon of even the most basic manners..." Kento ranted as you followed him through the door, biting your lip, your smile barely-there. You had been on Cloud Nine all day. Any time you had looked up, his eyes were on you. Any time another woman tried to touch him, he shied away as if she were poison. Seeing Kento completely lose his mind at Gojo's flirtations had been the final straw.

Kento may have worshipped you, but you were obsessed with him. You burned for him. You would walk through fire, if he would ignore the lick of the flames just to hold your hand.

Kento was so lost in his rant, that he could barely look at you, grumbling to himself as he stripped off his tie. He tossed it to the floor, stalking away, infuriated...before pausing, heading back and hanging his tie up with a huff. You heard him pace into the bathroom, hearing the taps begin to run as Kento drew a bath.

Knowing he was climbing into the tub to try to scrub away the covetous stares of other women, you waited. And thought. And pondered. And stewed. Each glance, each fingertip-brush of his sleeve, each filthy pointed glare in your direction. You festered with the audacity. While you were gracious, and magnanimous in public, in private, Kento was yours. You heard him slip into the bath. You slipped into something darker.

The bathroom door swung open, slowly, thoughtfully. You leaned in the doorway, arms crossed. Kento lay draped in the clawfoot tub in the bathroom, bespoke, and big enough for him to lie down without needing to bend his legs. Those arms that you loved, thick and corded, flipped over the edges, bubbles tracing down the edges of his biceps. He frowned, his eyes closed, deep in thought.

"I'm sorry." Kento murmured, finally. "I don't try to make other women...act like that."

You hummed, examining your nails.

"I know," you purred, stepping over to him, perching lightly on the edge of the tub, "you're just too...just too much, aren't you?" Kento's eyes flicked open at your tone, seeing your unbridled rage behind some gossamer veneer. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, as that hungry, vengeful gaze trailed down his naked body, a soapy Adonis. The bubbles masked how his cock twitched beneath the surface, too primal to restrain itself just for Kento's uncertainty.

"...darling?" Kento asked, swallowing thickly. He may not be in trouble, but he knew when he was in danger. You pressed one finger to his lips, your other hand beginning to trail circles across his chest, your gaze holding his own. The trails scorched, wildfires left in the wake of your touch. By the time your fingertips started grazing light circles over his nipples, Kento squirmed, his lips parting in a humid gasp beneath your finger.

"How could they know how it is, after all?" You whispered, your fingernails scratching lightly down his chest and belly, now. You leaned over Kento, your clothed breasts dipping into the water, bubbles rushing to invade the valley of your cleavage. Kento trembled, his mind going blank as you silenced him, held him hostage, blood rushing to his cock and making him dumb.

"How could they know that you fall over yourself to sink your tongue inside me?" Your fingers grazed through the honeyed hair on Kento's lower belly, and you clapped a hand over his mouth, capturing the muffled little groan in your palm. The tip of his cock, long, thick and ready, bobbed to the surface, pre-cum mixing with bubbles on his slit.

"How could they know the sounds you make when I ride you? The sounds you make when you cum down my throat? Show me them." You released your hand for just a moment, a husky, ragged moan bursting free. Kento's eyes beseeched you, for release from this blissful punishment. You bit your lip again, a wicked smile in your eyes, and god, how he'd start riots and burn cities for you for just one chance one shot for you only yours for your eyes alone--

"Look at you...such a big man. So strong. The truth is, you could pin me down and do whatever you wanted to me. And you do." You laughed, reaching lower to fondle Kento's heavy, aching balls beneath the surface, feeling him cry out, muffled behind your hand again, twisting and arching out of the water.

"But we both know that behind closed doors...I'm the one that has you pinned down, right? You'd drop everything for me...right?" Kento nodded frantically, a bead of sweat dripping down his chest. He saw stars when your hand gripped his cock, the squeeze tight and possessive. You moaned, soft and wet already, just with the silky-steel weight of him in your palm.

"So just remember, when you're dancing away from all those other girls..." Your hand gripped harder, netting Kento's desperate rumbling moans in your fingers, and beginning to stroke his cock, twisting gently from ball to tip until he bucked into your fist. You kept your hand still, letting him fuck upwards into you. You ignored the splashes as hot bubbled water crept over the edge, splattering onto the floor.

"...remember who you're dancing for, Nanami Kento." Kento was lost, overstimulated by your filth, the myriad erotic images you cast upon his vision, the sheer biting ownership you placed upon him...and, god, it was good. You moved your hand faster now, lubricated by the soap, masturbating Kento until he panted, his eyes glazed and hot beneath your hungry cross-examination.

Reaching for the showerhead, still working on his cock, you set the pressure high, and dipped it beneath the water. So lost was he in being wetly jerked off by you, Kento shouted, fucking upwards again to feel you aim the jet at his balls, forcing them to clench and tighten. Kento couldn't think anymore. Being edged so ferociously had him reeling, and his existence narrowed to just your hands on his cock your hands on his mouth the shower jet pulsing hot water at the base of his length.

"--do anything I'll do anything please-- get in here-- let me love you, please-- shit--cum inside you, please, I-- I can't-- can't take anymore--"

He felt his orgasm building at speed, feeling so pathetic, like a desperate rutting virgin, to be spending himself so easily in your hand. You released the showerhead, and he grasped at your thighs, trying to urge his fingers between your legs. He needed to dip his fingers into your pussy to make this orgasm golden, needed that wet heat around his thick digits--

You grasped his hand, licking his forefinger into your mouth, and Kento cursed aloud, crying out in anguish.

"--fuck...darling I promise I promise, I-- I--"

"...you...you...what?" You urged, fisting around his cock harder to drag him towards the edge. With the hook behind his navel, and the lick of your tongue against his fingers, Kento's eyebrows drew together, his thighs beginning to twitch as his balls tightened up, ready to spend himself in your hand.

You stopped, releasing Kento's twitching cock abruptly. Kento gasped, his chest heaving, rendered stupid and confused.

"...remember who takes care of you, yeah?"

Cooler than a winter morning, you stood, your breasts dripping with pre-cum glossed bubbles. Walking towards the doorframe, you turned, and blew Kento a kiss. He watched you with feverish eyes, gasping and twitching, leaned half forwards, white-knuckled hands gripping the tub.

"--don't--don't leave-- darling-- please-- so close, I--I'm so close..."

With one further bite of your lip, you rubbed his pre-cum between your fingers and reached down, dipping them just inside your entrance with a sweet, high moan.

Throwing his head back, cursing, and spitting, Kento came untouched, thick ropes of seed striping up his abdomen. Kento groaned, bucking against thin air and wishing desperately he was nestled, like your fingers, inside your tight little pussy, taken most of the way to heaven just by imagining it as he came.

You touched yourself to the convulsing, jerking image of him moaning your name, for months to come. Knowing Nanami Kento was yours, and knowing Nanami Kento was yours, were two different beasts entirely.

It was only when you heard Kento's hulking form stand from the bath, the water cascading down as if off a demon's back, that you realised it was your turn to be in danger.

[bbydoll18xx]

I've Got a Wand and a Rabbit

Paige stumbles into a sex shop you work at, and you give her some satisfactory customer service.

Paige Bueckers x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.6k

Themes: sex toys, masturbation, and sex mentioned

A/N: hii so I thought of this idea when I was lounging in my pool and I kinda love it. I have a few ideas for a second part if you guys are up for it

~

“That’ll be 49.95,” you say brightly, your customer service voice on full display, as you carefully wrap an eight inch glass dildo up and put it in a bag. Your customer, a tall, muscular man with shifty eyes and a baseball hat hanging low over his face, quickly swiped his card, avoiding eye contact with you, as you finished the transaction. 

“Have a great day!” You call as he rushes out of the store and into his large pickup truck. 

Ah. The joys of dealing with the closeted ones. It was certainly more appealing than the creepy straight dudes who offered to take you home and prove to you that the vibrators that adorned the entire back wall of the store were not as good as their own dicks. 

That was fucking bullshit.

You had prided yourself in being open with both your sexuality and the joys of sexual pleasure since you were old enough to know what it entailed. And you were not shy about sex or masturbation. It was a totally normal thing. 

You have often referred to yourself as The Fairy Godmother of Orgasms. Each of your friends had been given a vibrator sometime during college, with subtle instructions to learn how to make themselves cum. Because men just aren’t up for the job these days.

So when you picked up a job at the newest, trendiest sex store just outside of Storrs to help make some extra money for school, it seemed like all of the stars aligned. 

You shake your head, giggling at the hilarity of the man’s sheer discomfort and apply a layer of lip gloss to your full, pink lips. There were a few customers lingering in the store but it had been pretty quiet today, as it was the middle of the week. 

A few minutes later, the jinging of the bell on the door alerts you to a group of girls giggling loudly, faces blushing in a way that you had become quite accustomed to seeing in the store. 

College students were your favorite customers, as you loved seeing young women being open about having fun and safe sex lives, and you wave warmly at them.

“Hi there! Just let me know if you have any questions!” You chirp, sending a wink over to the tall blonde girl whose cheeks were the brightest shade of red in the group.

Her face darkens, spreading down the pale skin of her neck as the other girls shove her teasingly, and she almost falls into a rack of lingerie.

Muttering an apology, she fixes the rack, running her hand across her face, glancing back at you before running after her friends where they had assembled in the back of the store. 

Her bumbling behavior amuses you, and it was so unlike her.

You had recognized her from the second she had walked in. Paige Bueckers face was plastered all over UConn’s campus, and you were a victim of the tiktok edits bombarding your phone.

You were a willing victim at that.

Paige was not just a great basketball player. She was also incredibly kind and unusually humble. It also did not help that she was gorgeous, and you were not ashamed to admit that you had thought about those long, nimble fingers and her muscled thighs from time to time. 

Or maybe a little more than that. 

You are pulled out of your increasingly naughty thoughts by loud laughs, and you look over to where KK Arnold is holding up a huge purple dildo.

“Paige, I think this would be perfect for you!” She snorts, sending the other girls into a fit of howls.

You chuckle, putting a hand over your mouth as you observe Paige’s obvious embarrassment from behind the counter.

“God, KK, could you be any louder,” Paige mutters, eyes flickering to where you were pretending not to watch. “Shoulda just bought this shit online.”

“That’s no fun,” Aubrey says, gazing at the section of strap ons with an interested look on her face. 

The bickering continues for a few minutes, with Ice Brady and Aubrey occasionally making a few comments before you decide to go over to the group.

“Is there anything you’re looking for in particular today?” You ask. “I know the selection can be a bit…overstimulating.” You bite your lip as you finish your sentence, inwardly cringing at your provocative choice of words. 

Paige coughs, and KK erupts into another fit of laughter, and before the blonde could even form a word, KK says, “Home girl needs a nice vibrator. She is very single, and the ol’ right hand just ain’t cuttin’ it anymore.”

“Dude, oh my god,” Paige groans, hands once more shielding her face. 

“I totally understand how that is,” you say sympathetically. “Let me show you our most popular vibrators.”

You reach for Paige’s hand, somewhat surprised as she allows you to take it, and you guide her to the back wall. 

“Now this one is a classic. They call it a rabbit because of the cute lil bunny ears, which is great for the clit. And it has a dildo attached, so it’s a two in one type of deal.”

You look up at Paige, trying to gauge her reaction, and she looks completely stunned. Blushing, you put down the brightly colored toy. “I’m sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable at all.”

“No, not at all,” Paige mumbles, a far cry from her usual confidence. “This is all just new to me.”

You nod understandingly. 

“This one might be more your speed. It’s called a wand, and it’s perfect for beginners. Not much of a learning curve for this one,” you say, holding out the box for her to inspect. 

The wand was purple and small enough to throw in a discrete bag, and with a rechargeable battery and its waterproofness, it was a fan favorite. 

“Alright, I think I’ll try this one then,” Paige says, her voice a little more sanguine as the initial embarrassment of buying a sex toy wore off. 

Aubrey, KK, and Ice erupt into loud cheers and a round of applause, and Paige responds by giving them the middle finger.

“You guys are hilarious. You should come in more often,” you laugh.

“Maybe I will if you’re working,” Paige responds, looking you up and down. 

It was your turn to blush, her sudden boldness surprising you, and your heart rate jumps at the idea. 

Paige follows you over to the checkout counter, where you ring up the toy, adding your employee discount for good measure before bagging it up and handing it to her, your fingers brushing up against hers as you do so. The contact sends shivers through your body, and you immediately think of your own toys waiting for you in your bedside drawer. 

You were really going to fucking need them after this shift. 

“Have fun. If you ever have any questions, you know where to find me,” you tease, not wanting this to be the last you see of her.

“I will,” Paige responds, sending you a cheeky wave before leaving, her friends in tow.

“She will definitely be back, don’t worry!” KK exclaims, before Paige pulls her out of the store by the hood of her sweatshirt.

You certainly hoped so.

~

Life continued on the next few weeks as normal. You went to work. You went to class. And you spent even more time with your legs spread thinking about Paige. 

You didn’t necessarily mean for it to happen; it just did. If her face was not completely clouding your thoughts before she had stumbled into the store, it was now. Even your dreams were swirled with images of that long blonde hair and her mouth, her tongue peaking out seductively.

And because you were quite single, you had turned to the toys. 

You were walking through campus, eagerly heading back to your apartment after your lecture so you could enjoy yet another solo session, when you spot Paige, KK, and Jana walking up to you.

KK was leading the charge, enthusiastically waving to get your attention, whilst Paige was trailing behind, a shy smile on her face.

“Well look who it is!!” KK teases, introducing you to Jana, who had a knowing look on her face. She reaches a hand out to you. “I’ve heard lots about you,” she smirks in Paige’s direction, who rolls her eyes.

You wave at the blonde, eyes crinkling from the sun and the excitement of seeing her again. “Sooo,” you trail. “Any issues with it?” 

The question was vague, but all three girls seemed to know exactly what you were referring to, and Paige flushes yet again. She looks at the other two girls, shooting them harsh looks until they hesitantly walk away from the two of you, leaving you with the privacy you were dying to have.

Paige coughs. “Um, I haven’t really been able to figure it out, ya know?”

You try not to laugh. “What’s there to figure out? Just turn it on and go to town.” 

“I tried,” she nearly whines, clearly embarrassed.

“And?” You prod, confused as to what she was so obviously missing.

“I couldn’t, ya know, finish,” she mumbles, looking at you with a small pout.

You wanted to kiss the pout right off those lips. 

“Need some help then? I’m kind of a professional,” you suggest boldly, hoping she was feeling the electricity flowing between you. 

“God, yes,” she breathes. 

It was all over from there. 

~

If anyone was wondering, yes my friends do really call me the fairy godmother of orgasms. And yes I am very passionate about my love for vibrators LOL

I hope you enjoyed!! Do we want a part 2??

My inbox is always open

xoxo katy

[ladadiida]

𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐬𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐤)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 as much as you wanted to stay by his side, you couldn't bear the thought of watching him fall in love with other women while you're stuck at the kitchen washing dishes and measuring ingredients. so you dreamt of leaving, of traveling to different islands to share your lovely songs and tunes; but the more your desire to leave grows, the more sanji finds himself drowning in your warmth. or, you and sanji over the years, wherein five times you tried to leave him and the one time you finally did, despite his refusal to let you go.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 musician reader, 5 + 1 things, pining, unrequited love, not actually unrequited love, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 i swear i cannot escape a brainrot whenever i watch a new show. this automatically wrote itself, i don't even remember how i came up with this idea. anyway, i'm surprised there aren't many sanji fics that involves the unrequited love trope, seeing that it suits him. or maybe that's just me. this is only a SNEAK PEEK though.

𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 full version now published here!

You accepted it years ago.

You accepted the fact that you somehow fell in love with Sanji Vinsmoke along your weird journey of working in a sea restaurant full of former pirates and making music while at it. How the pesky feelings grew and wrapped themselves around your aching heart, you didn't know. Maybe it was when he learned to cook your favorite food and gave it to you afterwards, or the way his crystal blue eyes reminded you of snowflakes every winter.

Or maybe it was when he pulled your hair out of jealousy the moment he learned that Zeff would be taking in another child in his care, but brushed it and even braided it after the latter cleared the misunderstanding. Maybe it was when he supported you in your dreams and told you they weren't silly, maybe it was when he fought off drunk men that were trying to hit on you. Or maybe it was the way his voice would drop an octave lower whenever he asks you for a favor. The list could go on and on and you still wouldn't know the reason why. It doesn't matter anyway. You tripped, you fell, and now you're pining.

Drying off the last of the plates, you washed your own hands after and patted them dry on your skirt. You were the last one to leave the kitchen, the other staff already back in their quarters after a long, exhausting day of cooking. You fixed the signature blue bandana tied in your hair then went on your way towards the upper deck.

You weren't blessed with a talent in cooking, so you offered to do chores instead. Washing the dishes, cleaning the restaurant, and doing the laundry were few of the things you do in the Baratie. You can't say that you enjoy it, but you were beyond grateful that Zeff gave you a chance despite his opposition to let a woman work inside his restaurant.

As you were about to go to the newly laundered clothes you hung on a thin wire earlier that morning, you heard two voices speaking. You also smelled cigarette smoke wafting through the air, and you only knew one person who could be smoking at this hour. Your breath hitched in anticipation.

"You bringing a woman to your bed again, Sanji?" The other person asked playfully, but there was a hint of disbelief in his voice. You carefully took a peek so you won't accidentally reveal yourself and be accused of eavesdropping. Two people came into view with their backs facing you.

"Now, what are you talking about, Patty? I am a gentleman. I only had a nice chat with the lovely lady and escorted her back to her ship." Sanji interjected, a cigarette hanging on his lips.

Patty huffed. "I didn't know that chatting included kiss marks on jawlines."

This caused Sanji to laugh and say, "Not my fault she was charmed by my food."

"The boss man ain't gonna like it when he finds out about this."

"He's not gonna find out." Sanji assured him, wiping off the said kiss mark on his jaw. You stared at him as he did so, and you pitied the woman who planted that kiss, knowing she was just one of the many beautiful ladies Sanji had flirted with before. However, a tinge of pain in your chest said otherwise, taunting you that it was not pity you're feeling, but foul jealousy.

"Why don't you look for more decent women, eh? How about 'little lass' for a change?" Patty suddenly suggested.

It was like someone had hit your stomach with one of the metal pans in the kitchen with the way it lurched in surprise and nervousness. Your heartbeat started to quicken the longer you waited for his response, making your grip on your skirt tighter. In moments like these, you allowed yourself to hope, to wish that he saw something in you and that he finds you beautiful and lovely enough to be the person standing by his side.

But his answer made all that hope crumble down into nothing but dust.

"I don't see her that way." Sanji said after a long stretch of silence, taking a long drag from the cigarette then releasing the smoke in a single breath.

Ah.

You blinked repeatedly, trying to keep the tears from forming. It's always been like this, so why can't you get used to it? Taking a deep breath, you gulped away the knot forming in your throat and decided to leave. You can grab the clothes later.

"You're too kind for him." Someone behind you spoke, making you jump and tense up. Turning around, you saw Zeff looking at you with an unreadable emotion in his eyes and his hands on his hips, almost like he knew your secret. Of course he does. He always sees everything.

You stumbled on your words. "Sir?"

"That boy is always up to something." He began, switching his attention to Sanji. "One minute he's stubbornly immature in the kitchen, and the next he'll be a thirsty man staring at women like they're liquid booze."

Clearing your throat, you forced a smile.

"Well, he can be a lot sometimes." You agreed, remembering the days when the two of you would fight over irrelevant matters. Then you chuckled and continued, "But he's kind. He's gentle, and lovely, like a freshly made poem you keep repeating in your head. But then he's also confusing, hot-headed, and reckless. He's like the sea, isn't he? Calm yet wrapped with mystery, dangerous yet beautiful..."

You trailed off, an unbearable heat rising up your cheeks and neck once you slowly began to realize that you just ranted out your feelings to the head chef. You glanced at him with wide eyes, preparing to see a disgusted look on his face; however, Zeff didn't appear to be repulsed by your little speech. In fact, the corners of his lips were slightly quirked up.

"But I cannot swim. If I were to drown, he wouldn't save me." You quickly added, hoping to shut down the topic.

He sighed. "You will meet someone who deserves you as much as you deserve them, little lass." He simply said. He then laid his hand out, and on his palm was a little box poorly tied with a ribbon. "Here, for you."

Altnough you were a bit confused at the random gift, you accepted it and cradled the box to your chest. "I'll be okay, Zeff." You insisted, grinning cheekily. "When I become famous, I'll sing my songs here in Baratie, and people would flood the restaurant to hear my singing. And to eat your food too, of course."

The head chef nodded, relief flooding his expression. "I look forward to that." He said while awkwardly returning your smile.

That night, when you were sure that everyone in the Baratie was asleep, you opened the loose floorboard on the floors of your bedroom and grabbed the wooden box you kept hidden for a long time now. You opened the lid and began counting the Berry you saved for the past few months.

Tomorrow was the perfect day to leave.

You just can't stay here. Yes, you had a roof over your head, delicious food to eat everyday, and clean clothes to wear but you were so miserable. This wasn't the life you wanted. You wish to go out there, sing your heart out, and fall in love with someone who actually loves you back.

A knock on your door made you freeze. You held your breath as the person on the other side continued to knock a few more times. "You awake?"

Pain surged through your veins, your chest twisting in agony. Sanji.

"You didn't come down for dinner. I guess you're too tired, hmm?" He said, his muffled voice gentle, and the sound almost prompted you to stand up and open the door for him. But you dug your fingernails in your palms and resisted, because you can't just let this opportunity pass by.

You heard a brief clinking sound before Sanji spoke again, "Sweet dreams, ange."

Once his footsteps faded away, you cautiously moved towards your door and opened it as quietly as you can. There, on the floor, was a small plate with a slice of your favorite dessert: angel's food cake, topped with fresh cream and strawberries.

You bent down and saw a note beside the plate. And when you got to read the contents of the note, you burst into tears and sobs that wracked down your entire body.

Happy Birthday

— S.

You ate the cake with tears silently falling down your cheeks, and that was the first time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.

again, this is only a sneak peek of the actual fic, i'm currently halfway in completing it. please let me know if you want to read it, because i might publish it next week. if not, i'll just drown in sorrow and self-pity.

[st-dionysus]

(The Poem is named) Emetophobia CW

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Make another forcemasc post, calling it stealing transfem valor.

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

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

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

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

I puke and miss the toilet.