#i want top surgery and when i have scars from it i am going to be proud of them as proof of my body being what i want it to be

[c0rpseductor]

this isnt specifically a trans guy problem but i love how often i encounter commentary on media representations from this incredibly specific genre of trans guy who is like "no real trans man is effeminate or nonpassing and if he is he certainly doesn't want to look that way. all of us think ryan gosling is aspirational. every single one. it's incredibly unrealistic to think that a trans guy would want to look trans, because i personally don't want to." like the No Fun Allowed Brigade. why are there so many of these guys

[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.

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

I love your writing am and i always seem to go back to your sally face fic and i would love something similar to that but with sally and i would love to see if you could incorporate substance use (ex. weed) not to a dangerous extent but almost seen as inviting. with ftm reader again! ofcs you can take this request and do what you like with it!! i just love your writing sm and i want to see more sally face content:)

❝ If you think I’m pretty put your hands on me, know I can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout it ❞

Sal Fisher x ftm!reader | fluffy, NSFW, slight angst | reader has had top-surgery & bottom growth | vers. bttm. reader | NOT PROOFREAD + written on phone | wc: 4K

warnings: recreational use of marijuana, some guilt from Sal because he vowed not to smoke as a child but r! reassures him, Sal mentions painkiller addictions, mentions of hospitals and wounds, mentions of scarring, shotgun kisses, handjobs, fingering, AFAB terminology (clit referred to as dick/cock)

masterlist ; "I was the boy who was on your side"

authors note: I FORGOT TO FILL THIS UHM UHHH IM BACK?

*song on repeat: Romeo by Until The Ribbon Breaks

He's been drumming his fingers across his knees for a full 20 minutes now. A never-ending symphony of thumps occasionally disturbed by pauses of silence as he picked at the ripped edges of his jeans. You suppose you understand the anxiety that was racking through him, despite the reassurances you'd given him, he was bound to have some second thoughts. "Hey, baby," you tap the steering wheel, an elbow propped onto your window sill panel. Despite your eyes being glued on the road, you're acutely aware of his gaze on yours.

"Ya' didn't have to come along if you didn't want to," at your words he shakes his head. "No — Sorry, I didn't mean to come off that way, baby." Sal reaches out and places a hand on your knee, squeezing it just enough to have you decompressing your nerves.

"No, no. I didn't mean to make you feel bad," you clasp his hand and squeeze him back, the road will be fairly emptier now that you've driven past the bridge. "You just look a little nervous is all, I was jokin' 'bout you needing to follow along. I was just teasing you, Sal." "I know. I wanted to spend time with you, (Y/N). Which is why I followed along even though I knew you were just fucking with me," he sighs, allowing the song playing on the radio to filter in the silence for a few seconds. "It's just, buying drugs, makes me a liiittle nervous."

A chuckle escapes you and you risk staring at Sal for a bit. "You've dealt with poltergeists and the like, the baloney incident, and buying a little ganja is making you sweat?"

“Shut up,” he groans as he slips his hand up and lands a muted smack on your thighs. “Poltergeists can land me in a psychiatrist's office, this could land us in jail.”

“At least we’ll be together in a small cell,” you coo and Sal rolls his eye with a scoff. “We’re not gonna get caught, ya’ big baby. I’ve done this a thousand times with Larry, Todd, and Ashley — we’ll be fine. Promise.”

It went more than fine. Underwhelming actually. He had expected a more intense, whispered, exchanges with some weirdly firm handshake while the other dude slipped you the weed. He had even lifted the hood of his hoodie up to make the both of you less identifiable. It was adorable.

Your dealer had come down from their apartment. Sal seeing her brightly coloured pink tie-dye sweatpants from the slat of the stairs, and the cheerful wave she gave you once she took notice of your car.

“Was wondering when you’d text. I got your favourite.”

She’s leaned on your rolled-down windows, discretely holding the pink paper bag of weed in front of her chest and bouncing it around. She extends her other hand first, and Sal is silent as you reach for the cash from the cup holder.

In that pause of conversation, she takes notice of him and recognition is crystal clear.

“O-M-G, is that Sal, the boyfriend?” You chuckle while Sal stutters in surprise. Handing her the cash, she graciously exchanges it with the bag.

“Yeah, he’s following along with me running errands.” “Cute,” she coos. After a few pleasantries, she leans away. That small pink paper bag between your legs barely able to distract your boyfriend from her excited wave of goodbye — that you return obviously.

“You talk about me with her?” you glance at him for a second then laugh. “Dude, most of us get our weed from her. She eventually gets to know the side characters in our lives the longer she interacts with us.”

He scoffs, crossing his arm as he leans back in the seat.

“Side characters? Seriously?” “Duh,” you pick the bag up and shake it in his face teasingly. “Everyone knows the main characters participate in drug culture and the side characters don’t.”

“This is the peer pressure my father warned me about.”

You giggled at his joke as you place the bag between your thighs again. This time, Sal’s eyes follows it.

He’s seen you and Larry smoke before. Hell, most of his friends smoke on the back porch while he’ll be mindlessly cleaning up as he waits for all of you to herd back inside. He’s never felt left out, you guys were simply respecting his wishes is all. He wasn’t much of a fan of drinking or smoking. But he wouldn't stop anyone from doing it, as long as no one got too inebriated.

Though, for some reason, he just can’t take his eyes away from that pink bag.

“Mhm, next thing you know, you’ll look like those anti-bullying posters. All the stoners will point and laugh while you have big ole’ sad cat eyes.”

The imagery makes him laugh softly and he glances at your face as the scenery zooms past beside you.

When you reach home, the house is empty. A note was left on the kitchen fridge by Todd, something about him and his boyfriend going on a date.

Just you, Sal and Gizmo.

It makes his palms clammy and his nerves turning up his sensitivity a few notches.

You greeted Gizmo with a few chin scratches. Settling on the living room couch with crossed legs, you open the bag one handedly while you lean over to the catch-all bowl on the coffee table for the lighter and your MP3 player.

All the while, he stands in the kitchen threshold. Like a kid who knows they’ve done something they’re definitely shouldn’t have done — the guilt was just radiating from him. It made you toss your head to the side when you took notice of him, a joint hung loosely between your lips.

“You good, baby?”

He nods, your words setting him into motion as he sits on the couch.

“I’m not gonna smoke inside,” you reassure with a smile. Why else would he stare at you like that, right?

He nods again. Oddly quiet. Gizmo yawns and sinks further down onto the couch, watching the TV show with an almost human-like concentration. Nobody says anything about it anymore. He’s just a little guy, really.

You lean over, joint plucked out and resting between the second knuckle of your pointer and middle finger this time, and give his cheek a kiss.

“See you in a bit.”

He watches like he always does. There’s nothing to clean. It’d be weirder if he attempted to look busy. So he glances at the TV, then at Gizmo and then at your back as you sit down on the porch. He can hear the muffled sounds of you flicking the lighter, and shortly after he sees the white smoke that slithers upwards into the air along with the sounds of your favourite band quietly playing.

You thought you hadn’t closed the sliding doors properly when you hear the approaching footsteps. Turning your head to check, you’re surprised to spot Sal walk through the doors to move and settle next to you.

You cough out some smoke. Attempting to fan it away with your hand while you reach to put out the joint in the ash tray that Ashley had made. But Sal stops you as he knocks your knees together, his thigh pressing against yours as he peers at you.

“Sal?”

“...Say hypothethically, a side character wants to dip his toes in some drug culture." Your eyes widen considerably at his confession.

“Huh?” you squeak out. Sal sighs, regret creeping up on him as he scratches the back of his head. The smell of the weed doesn’t exactly help either — it was so distinct.

“Wait, no, sorry. I’m just, this isn’t because of peer pressure is it?” You did mini-hops, getting close enough to him for your thighs to press together. Yet you still held the clay ash tray an arms length away, especially as you note the sharp inhale and exhale he'd made.

Sal’s deadpanned expression makes your eyebrows jump.

“This was dumb,” He admits. “No — no, it isn’t. I was just caught off-guard. Are you...curious?”

Sal nods sheepishly. You lean back on the heel of your hand, the other still holding onto the tray, your finger mindlessly keeping the still-lit joint perched between your digit and the rim of the tray. You think for a moment, then huff in amusement.

“Damn, you still manage to surprise me even after all these years.”

“You’re making it sound like we’ve been married for 50 years,” he retorts. “We will be, I’m just practicing these phrases out loud so you don’t get heart failure in the future.”

This time, Sal’s shoulders shake as he laughs. It dies down as he sees you take a drag, and breathe out the plumes of smoke. Not directly at him, but in his general direction. The smell isn’t something he’s used to. Not this close anyways. Usually, it’s just stuck on your clothes but you reach for the bottle of Febreze strategically placed near the sliding doors anyway so it's more muted.

It. . .doesn’t completely suck. The earthiness of it making his shoulders less tense. You watch his reaction closely, the corners of your lips in a gentle curve as he leans back onto his hands.

You take another drag and Sal’s enraptured at the way the end of your joint glows bright orange. He feels almost envious of the way you swallow the smoke, how you harbour it within your mouth before it slips past your lips. You’re looking at him, just basking in the moment for a little longer before you ask him to play your favourite songs.

It was just beginning to get dark, the sky was setting up for its finale of the day and he was enraptured as you explain what shotgun kisses were.

"I have smoked a cigarette before," he says, brows furrowed as he unbuckles his prosthetic. "Yeah, and nearly coughed up both of your lungs. This will be smoother for you, trust me."

"So I just inhale what you exhale?" "Mhm, easy as pie, right?"

His placed his prosthetic next to him, turning his head and immediately seeing your face invading his vision. "Hi," he smiled at your attempt to keep your smile at bay by chewing on your lower lip.

"Hi," he replies, his anxiety lessening at the sight of your confidence and giddiness. You bring the joint to your lips. He can hear the paper burning and sees tendrils of smoke escaping through your lips. Your words echoed in his brain as you lean in further.

“Just breathe it in slowly, baby."

He feels the smoke across his face, your lips pouted as you blow it his way. Sal breathes it in, sucking the smoke in just like you’d demonstrated earlier. He coughs like you said he would. His eye-watering as he moves to sit and you carefully pat his back as he does.

“Shit,” your eyes squish at his flustered expression. His first time trying a cigarette playing briefly through your head. Though this time it wasn’t even half-bad.

“You did great. Didn't burn on the way down if you smoked it yourself, right?” he got what you meant. He was coughing but he didn't feel like the back of his throat got thwacked by a whip of burning paper and tobacco. The ride was smoother, way smoother with your help. “It feels like the smell is stuck onto my teeth." Sal only complains to see you look at him with that fond gaze. You took another drag as he smacks his lips a few times. Your eyes flutter close, sighing in relief, and tossing your head to the side as you feel yourself loosening up.

“Why do you think I always brush my teeth before I kiss you?”

Sal protests softly as you take another hit and you laugh as he leans in.

“Isn’t that too much — “

You breathe out and Sal seems stunned for a moment, so you apologize but he simply leans in further.

“If this'll be my first time getting high, I want it to be with you.”

"Slow down, baby," you bumped your foreheads together, cupping his jaw in your hand. "What's the rush, hm?"

Curiousity was a valid enough reason to start smoking, but your Sal wasn't the kind of guy to jump into these things head first. It wasn't anything special to him, all of your friends smoked and drunk. He wasn't some pre-teen being excited to finally "grow up" and get in with the cool kids.

Hell, even during his 21st birthday, he'd taken his first drink and smoked his cigarette and decided that he didn't enjoy any of them.

Sal sighs, dropping his weight on you. His head balanced between the curve of your neck and shoulder. You simply thread your fingers through his hair, combing out the indents of his buckles and straps from his hair.

"You think I can't take it?"

"Oh, I definitely know you can't."

He protests with an indignant but whiny 'hey' but settles. His arms wrap around your waist and despite the uncomfortable angle of your torso facing him while your legs faced ahead as they rested on the stairs, you stay like that for a bit.

He eventually pulls away and leans back onto his arms again, reaching for his prosthetic though only to fidget with it on his lap.

"...Is it bad I feel bad? Not physically, just...morally?"

Your silence urges him on. So he continues; “Drinking fucking sucks, and cigarettes don’t make sense to me. But weed as a concept always seemed...appealing to me.”

He feels your chin on his shoulder and he subtly breathes in the smoke that teases him as you exhale.

“But?”

“Argh, it’s stupid. But as a kid, in the hospital there weren’t a lot of people that got as messed up as I did. But the ones that were? Christ, babe, they were in so much pain. Even when the wounds were already scars.”

Your brows pinch. You squeeze his hand and he stops toying with feeling the shape of the bolts to instead gently press the pads of his thumb over your nails.

“The doctors scared me with the whole speech. Painkillers being addictive and all that, it made me scared to ask for ‘em even when the skin grafts felt like they were on fucking fire.”

He shuts his eyes and brings your hand to his face, the pressure and warmth across his jaw and cheek making the phantom pains ebb to nothing.

“I made a promise to my younger me that I would never end up like the adults I saw. I just, don’t want to be in constant pain.”

“You aren’t, Sal. And you won’t be.”

You put out the joint, turning his face to you and planting a kiss on his lips. He breathes out a sigh of relief through his nose and you tilt your head to deepen it. When you pull away, you both linger in the afterglow of it for a second.

“I’m here for you, Sal. If you ever stray from the path, I’m here to guide you back, right? You’ve got me and Larry, Lisa and your dad, Ashley, Todd, Gizmo —” his smile widens as you go on about the precious people in his life.

“Thanks,” he kisses you again and you happily reciprocate.

“By the way, you’re right, you should always brush your teeth before you kiss me when you’re done smoking up.”

Sal laughs as you shove him back, watching admiringly while you light the joint up again.

“...Can I have another hit?”

“You just said my breath smells like ass —”

“You’re overreacting!”

By the time the two of you walk back inside, Gizmo’s nose is twitching. You hadn’t taken too much too be completely useless, just to start feeling that buzz and take the edge off. Sal had expected more of a droopy, drowsy, feeling when he entered the house.

He still feels like himself. A little light on his feet, but still himself. You had paced him from his little smoke-sucking sessions — teasing that he just wanted to kiss you which wasn’t entirely untrue. But you always pulled away just as his eyes would flutter. Most likely you getting back at home for saying your breath smelled like weed. Little tease.

You spray your clothes down, then ask Sal if he’d like to chill on the couch. Something in his brain perks up hard enough to make his penis do the same. He feels a bit shameful of it, but then again, everything you do could make him hard.

The other day you’d been wolfing down some cheesy fries with Ashley and somehow it made Sal have to think of baloney to shut his penis down.

Gizmo’s tail flicks knowingly as Sal sits at the end of the couch, which was his cue to set off to the basement instead. When Sal hears the TV turns on from there, he simply decides to never question how dexterous Gizmo's thumbs were.

You're laid out on the couch with your tummy showing and your eyes just a bit hazy. He knows weed affects people differently; why does it make his lust for you feel so thick? Like cloying, thick, honey dripping down from the back of his throat. Fuelling him in an unfamiliar, alien, way. He climbs over you and the half-lidded gaze you look up at him with makes his mouth feel drier than it is.

This lust is new. It’s more languid in it’s desire — akin to a beast stretching its back only to flop down to its side and show its belly. Still undeniably dangerous, yet so inviting with its soft underbelly and demure paws.

You seem to recognize this beast, lips stretching into a toothy grin.

“Need something handsome?”

He narrows his eyes at you. Then, he places a hand on your chest, fingers brushing along your collarbones before it slowy slips downwards.

“...I really wanna finger you.”

He seems to catch himself. Through that haze that makes him caught between wanting to curl up next to you for a nap or fucking you nice and slow, he finds the part of him that remembers embarrassment.

But before it could throw away his new lazy bravado, you surge up to kiss him, moaning the second your lips made contact.

Stoned Sal decides pants are way too annoying very quickly on. He huffs and puffs at the obstacles that are called buttons and zippers. When he finally undoes them, he pulls your jeans below the swell of your ass and brings the heel of his hand to your clothed cock.

The pressure has your teeth brushing over your lips.

“I love your dick,” he murmurs, “it’s just s’fuckin’ pretty.”

You moan airily, wishing he’d pull your pants all the way down but he is just too entraced at the sight of the wet spots he’s seeing. He traces the fold of your cunt and your breath hitches as he presses a finger through. Not enough to be inside of you, but enough to have your dick twitch.

He brings his thumb to rub against it and you groan.

“Let me take my jeans off, Christ, Sal.”

He chuckles, suddenly abandoning your pussy to pin your hips down. “Barely touched you and you already wanna spread your legs f’me?”

You glare at him, feeling your cheeks heat up as you hitch yourself up onto the couch and stubbornly shimmying out of your pants. He simply watches, uncaring of the less-than-delicate display. You toss your jean away and your underwear follows along, piling onto the floor somewhere.

“The weed is making you so chatty, hm?” you don’t get much out of you after that as Sal immediately claims your lips again. He doesn’t even wait for you to lay back down as he brings his hand between your legs.

Not exactly hasty but not taking his time either. He pulls away enough that the spit between your lips break, but you can still feel him groan when he feels the dewdrops of moisture on your cunt; the slick that coats his finger makes him whisper your name.

“So wet,” he marvels. Your legs twitch at his movements. Sliding up and down, pressing in just to make your breath hitch but never fully slipping inside.

Oh fuck.

Stoned Sal likes to tease.

Your dread is shortlived as he descends his kisses to your neck. You groan, clutching onto the back of his shirt as he mottles your neck with unapologetically languid kisses.

You’re whimpering underneath him as he hums and groans. Using his teeth and making hickey after hickey, dark and tender — he’d even brush his teeth along them just to hear you gasp.

Meanwhile, he continues to torture your poor cunt. Bringing his thumb into the fray again as he rubs circles on the tip of your cock. The tip of his fingers spreading your slick around your lips, making it messier and messier.

“Sal, please just fuckin’ finger me already,” you whine out. Turning your head away and arching your back as he sets his eyes on your nipples.

“I’m already — Shit, Sal. I’m already so hard.”

He knows. You don’t have to remind him.

“Don’t make me beg, baby, please.”

Sal bites down on your nipple just as he pushes his finger inside of you. He groans at the feeling of your boypussy clamping down. Fuck, you felt good.

So soft and warm and wet and tight.

He slips another finger in and neither of you are surprised at how eagerly your cunt lets it in.

Sal’s lips pause in their conquest as he looks down between your legs. Fuck, what a sight it was. The happy trail you have that always makes his cock jump in his pants — there it goes again — and that beautiful dick that he always loves choking on to that boypussy that he’s convinced is made for him.

He starts pumping his fingers. In and out in a steady rhythm. Adoring every noise that comes out of you. You take them well, all the way down to the base and when he angles his palm just right your hips buck to grind your cock against his hand.

Fuck, you were perfect.

He kisses you. Breathing through his nose as he bites down on your already swollen lower lip — relishing in this. In you.

He adds another finger and you mewl. It makes him laugh.

You were usually much more headstrong. When he teases, you tease back. The weed is working in his favour, you were so pliant. Melting under him and already close to your first orgasm.

When he curls his fingers, you toss your head back, mouth opening in a silent scream. Your hand dives between your legs to rub your cock and Sal watches your face as you jeek yourself off.

“Just like that, just like that — Oh, oh—ah! Fuck!”

He doesn’t falter his pace, moaning out curses as you clamp down around his fingers.

“Come on, baby. Cum for me, cum for me.”

His voice undoes you.

You buck your hips as wetness covers his hand. He groans, praising you as he continues to pump in and out. You let him, simply curling your toes and panting as you just kept on cumming and cumming.

When he kisses you this time, he doesn’t even let you breathe. Just swallowing your noises as he finger-fucks you through your orgasm and makes you barrel to your second with no breaks.

You clutch at his shirt, feeling lightheaded but unwilling to ask him to stop.

“Keep going, Sal. Please, please.”

How could he say no?

[bevy-obeyme]

I know you're super busy but if you have the time, I wanted to request a Trans FtM MC with the brothers, mostly headcanons or cute shenanigans! Like asking the brothers helping MC recover from Top Surgery!!! Please it would make my year!! Thank you so much for reading!

Of course! It’s no problem and I’ll try to get all my asks done today!! :))

I really appreciate requests that give me different prompts because I myself as I have stated numerous times am a cis female and being introduced to other perspectives is really intriguing for me!!

Shenanigans with the brothers as a Temale to Male MC

Lucifer - Top Surgery.

- No doubt, going into surgery was a nerve wracking thing. He could only admire your bravery to do so.. and hold your hand in comfort as you walked in.

- You got registered in and sat in the doctor’s office, Lucifer was sat besides you rubbing your knuckles absentmindedly and pressing kisses against your cheek, reminding you that you’d do great.

- Post surgery - he could see your delight, your newfound comfort in being more masculine. He couldn’t help the tiny smile that dotted on his face at your happiness.

- He did notice the scars and was always careful when admiring you. In fact, he seemed to be even more enamoured. Those scars were a sign of strength. A sign of resilience.

‘’No matter what you look like, you’ll always remain mine. And that’s all that matters.’’

Mammon - A lower class demon misgendering you.

- You bet, he would be hella pissed.

- You both were walking through the town square, hand in hand when suddenly his demonic hearing picked up on snickering.

- Snickers about you and transphobic comments.

- How dare they make such comments about you? So he yelled out to them.

- If that didn’t work, he would literally square up on them. Give them an intimidating glare and go up to them with his hands on his hips, you behind him as he rambled off, insulting the inferior demon’s intelligence and what not.

- At one point, you had to literally hold him back as you could swear he was about to throw hands.

‘’Yea’, yea! Walk away, I dare ya! Stupid scum! Next time I see ya bastards hangin’ around, insulting MY ____, yer gonna regret it!’’

Leviathan - Cosplaying to combat body dysmorphia.

- Levi noticed just how sad you looked in the Ruri-chan cosplay.

- Sure, you agreed to cosplay with him but he still felt bad about taking up your time.. he should’ve known a stupid otaku like him would only take up your time.

- However, then the realisation dawned on him. Ruri-chan was a girl and you were trying to transition… oh. OH.

- To say he felt horrible was an understatement, and he immediately offered to switch cosplays. He reassured that you still looked masculine and that a gender-bend Ruri-chan wasn’t that bad of an idea.

‘’Y-You look so cool as Ruri-chan! Who cares if she’s a girl? C-Cosplaying is all about the fun of it!’’

Satan - Helping insecurity and deep rooted inferiority.

- Satan could see it. Even if you never stated it, that you held a lot of gender envy towards him and his brothers.

- He sympathised with you. Feeling like you were born in the wrong body was awful no doubt. And the fact that you would always feel inferior to ‘real’ men.

- But Satan always countered that - what defined a ‘real’ man? Sure, anatomy might be one answer, but the second was identity.

- Gender was nothing but a social custom. Dresses being feminine? An opinion. Suits being masculine? Also an opinion. Mindsets, emotions and thoughts didn’t have a set gender and Satan made sure to express that clearly, hell, you’ve seen his brothers haven’t you?

- His tone was logical and firm. Reassuring you that you were justified in being who you were and that labelling yourself as a man was okay.

‘’Don’t let other people drag you down to their levels of simplicity. I’ll love you no matter the form you take ____.’’

Asmodeus - Help diminish masculine stereotypes.

- He too noticed your gender envy. But the avatar of lust had a different way of dealing with it.

- Any time you two went out, he’d make sure to apply makeup, wear skirts, high heels - any ‘feminine’ thing you could think of just to show you there was no harm expressing yourself in a ‘girly’ manner even as a man.

- He also did it to place the attention on him. He didn’t care for the confused looks or admirers. He strutted like he owned the place and he wanted you to do the same.

‘’Confidence is a lifestyle darling. Once you begin living it, people will love you for the amazing man you are.’’

Beelzebub - To feel more masculine.

- Beel was a regular at the gym and his clubs, that was fact. And so, you could argue he was the most masculine with his chiseled form.

- When you came up to him and requested to attend the gym with him to build muscle, he was more than happy for you to accompany him. It did get a bit lonely going by himself at times.

- He helped you bulk on calories and encouraged what foods to eat and to avoid when building muscle.

- However, he also reassured you that you didn’t have to gain muscle to be a ‘man’ and that you were handsome enough as is.

‘’I know I don’t say it often but.. I love you how you are ____. Don’t feel the need to change for other people. But, I won’t stop you if you truly do it for yourself.’’

Belphegor - Comforting you after being deadnamed.

- Belphegor knew that you still had issues transitioning. It was normal - your whole life would change as people viewed you differently. But not him. In his heart, you were still the little human that got him to love the quirks of humanity again.

- However, after being woken up by your cries and hearing of what happened, he immediately came to reassure you that people like that were idiots and random nobodies. Why bother putting up with self-conscious fools who had nothing better to do than hate you for being happy?

- He pulled you close to his chest and snuggled into you, all the while asking about the low class demons that deadnamed you - you didn’t want to know what he would do to them.

‘’I’m telling you ____, don’t bother time with idiots.. they’re all mindless demons that somehow Lord Diavolo hasn’t eradicated yet.’’

[buzz-in-your-veins]

angel dust x insecure transmasc reader smut?

Hi!

Thank you for your ask! I hope I gave it justice!

-if it’s not what you were looking for exactly feel free to leave another ask with more details! It’ll be fun to do it again.-

Perfect Boy<3

Let your boyfriend soothe you.

Then work you up.

CW: Mean Thoughts, PinV, Smut, Oral(reader reviving), clit called cock.

You had been dating Angel for a few months now, and you loved it.

Angel is everything a boyfriend should be. He’s kind, give you flowers, takes you out, and takes you apart so sweetly, always calling you his darling boy as he pushes you higher and higher.

But…

Angel is constantly worried about Valentino seeing you.

It’s sweet. Really it is..

Angel just wants to protect you, keep you safe and secure.

You were always an over-thinker. And this time is no different.

“Sorry, baby boy, not tonight.”

You were barely holding on, and that sent you spiralling.

‘Am I not good enough?’

You smiled softly and told him you understand, and waved him off as he walked out, before you ran to your shared room.

You changed into Angels hoodie, and laid down in bed, trying desperately to ignore the thoughts of not being man enough for your gay boyfriend.

You weren’t entirely successful.

Tears started falling down your face as you were bombarded with thoughts of Angel leaving you for someone else, not being satisfied with you.

When Angel finished his shift, that was how he found you. Curled up in his hoodie, Fat Nuggets cuddled into your chest as you hiccuped on sobs, cheeks wet with tears.

It wasn’t rare for Angel to find you this way, but it still broke his heart everytime.

Carefully climbing onto the bed, Angel took you into his arms whilst trying not to move Fat Nuggets, and hummed to you.

When the hiccups and sobs died down, Angel picked Fat Nuggets up and set him down on the bottom of the bed, before picking you up and cuddling you into his chest.

“Hi Baby, is your head all noisy?”

You nodded wetly against his chest.

“Can you ask it to stop being nasty to my darling boy?”

Angel felt renewed wetness against his chest.

“Honey? What’s wrong? Talk to me handsome?”

You mumbled all the thoughts that had been plauging you, and Angel felt his heart break as you told him you weren’t ‘man’ enough for him to want to stay.

Angel pulled you away from his chest to look in your eyes.

“Sh sh, listen, listen to me okay Mister?”

Angel waited for you to nod before continuing.

“You are all the man I need. Every part of you is perfect. From your fluffy manly hair,” Angel kisses your head. “To these manly feet,” Angel pauses to tickle your toes getting you to giggle, “And every part in between. This handsome body, these toned manly legs, this pretty boyish face, even these adorable manly eyelashes. Every part of you is completely manly and perfect. I love everything about you, even your smelly farts.”

Angel smiled as you giggled again. He noticed Fat Nuggets had snuck out the doggy door, probably going to bug Husk.

“And you know what my favourite part is, Prince? This beautiful masculine smile you have, so don’t cry handsome, my perfect boy has no reason to.”

You’d stopped crying in the middle of his speech, and now your emotions were slipping south.

Angel of course, noticed.

“You know what else I love?”

Angel began to lift his sweater, hands caressing your top surgery scars.

“These marks of your bravery. How pretty your little pecs are, the muscle in your chest, your handsome nipples.”

Your breath hitched as Angels top hands slowly pulled the sweater of, and his lower pair skimmed back and fouth over your nipples, body jolting as he quickly changed tactics to pinch and tug on them, revelling in the pretty sounds he was pulling from you.

“This manly sthomac, allll the way down tho this handsome happy trail.”

You sucked in a sharp breath as Angel began working your pants off, still playing with your nipples.

Pants finally off, Angel continued.

“I wonder where it leads.”

You jolted as his lower hands slowly dragged around your clit.

“This pretty little cock, look how responsive it is.”

You moan and whine, body spasming as Angel played relentlessly with your cock, never letting up his administration, or stopping his words.

“Look at my Princes cock, how perfect it is to play with.”

You screamed as you came on his hand, Angel changing his rythm, gently grinding you through your orgasm.

“Fuck baby, shit.”

Angels voice was low and raspy, and you felt the spiders cock poking you as Angel moved you off his chest and laid you down, before sinking down the bed.

“Lemme taste my prince.”

That was all the warning you got before Angels tounge meet your cock, lapping at the folds around it and coaxing more sounds from you, a few times his tounge dipped inside you, but the majority focus went on your cock, podding and probing the sensitive bundle.

Your back arched as you came with a second scream.

Angel lapped hungrily at the juice that flowed from you.

Before slowing working how way back up your body, trailing kisses over his ‘perfect boy’ as he went.

“Good boy, pretty boy.”

You whined, drunk on the double orgasm and freeing feeling your boyfriend always provided.

Angel slowly pumped his two fingers in your swollen hole, thumb gently grazing your cock, drawing needy whines and pleas from you, before Angel dragged your lips into a soft kiss and pushed his heavy cock into your hole, mumbling how perfect you were against you lips.

You yowled as Angel slammed his cock in fully, eyes rolling back.

Angel repeated the movement, enjoying the noise you were making.

It didn’t take long for Angel to cum, already worked up from the earlier activity’s, and he shoved his cock as far as he could, pushing against your cervix as he did.

At the first pulse of hot cum, your eyes rolled back and you howled as you squirted over Angels cock, blacking out.

When you came too, Angel had cleaned you up and was making the bed. He noticed you were awake.

“Listen, Handsome, you are more than man enough in every way. I love you for all of you, not just some parts. I will always love all of you.”

Your thoughts were soothed as you heard the sincerity in his voice, for now at least.

Angel picked you up and laid you down on his chest in the freshly made bed.

“Sleep now prince, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You feel asleep to the sounds of his breathing, and dreamt of a pretty blond boy with hetrochromia.

Feedback is always appreciated.

Comments are my high.

They make me write faster.

I hope you like this and it lived up to your expectations!

~Vyrus

[gggukniverse]

hot with you | jjk (m)

title: hot with you

pairing: jungkook x trans male!reader

series: cool with you

genre: m , smut , established relationship

summary: months after your top surgery you finally feel more at peace. but now that that issue is out of the way you realize there's one more thing, you would like to have a dick too.

warnings: +18, mentions of a top surgery, use of a strap-on, subby and whiny!jungkook, praise, finger sucking, frotting, handjob, oral (reader receiving) in the forms of face sitting and a blowjob (jungkook sucks the strap 😝), jungkook is naaaaasty, cumplay, facial... technically?, reader's genitalia referred to as p*ssy (like one time), coming untouched, overuse of the petname love because yeah, they are so in love it's disgusting, super self-indulgent i'm sorry.

wordcount: 4.5k

note: hi... this is nasty... i was h*rny and i needed to write it... now i'll go hide. hope u enjoy though !!!

note 2: this is written as a nb person with gender dysphoria !!! i am also aware not everyone's dysphoria works the same way !!! you are valid even if you don't relate to reader's feelings here !!! stay safe and ily !

-

—

-

you stare into the full length mirror. your reflection stares back at you.

you can’t really decide if you like what you see or if you don’t. the sight is something you’ve never seen before. you look different. good. you look good. in fact, you look exactly how you’ve been wanting to look for a long long time. but it’s different.

the scars on your chest fully healed a couple of months ago and you have been feeling better than ever since then. those scars are not the reason why you keep staring into your reflection in the mirror.

“everything alright, love?” jungkook calls out for you from outside. he has been waiting for you in your room for a while.

“yeah!” you quickly reassure him. “i’ll be there in a minute.”

the reason why you’ve kept jungkook waiting for a while is the harness wrapped around your hips and thighs to hold the way too realistic dildo on top of your crotch.

technically, this wasn’t entirely your idea. it was jungkook’s.

the first time it was brought up was a few months into the relationship. he had casually asked you if you had ever used a strap on with any of your past hook ups, you had been a little shocked by the question but said no, it hadn’t really crossed your mind before. jungkook just hummed, shrugged and kept mixing ingredients for the sauce he was preparing for dinner. the topic never came up again but you thought about it for a couple of weeks until it naturally escaped your mind. you liked your sexual dynamic with jungkook and since jungkook liked topping you didn’t really know what a fake dick on your body would do for the both of you.

now you can kind of understand what it can do for you. you don’t have breasts anymore and now you have a dick that stands proud on your crotch. maybe the sight has been throwing you off because you just like it too much.

because yes, the thought of using one had left your mind back then, maybe because most of your gender dysphoria came from your breasts, but since you didn’t have them anymore you often caught yourself wondering what it would feel like to have a dick.

you blurted it out one random evening.

because jungkook has a nice dick. it’s not insanely big to the point where it's painful to take him, but it is big enough that it’s heavy on your hand when you hold it. it also has the perfect girth for you to wrap your hand around it. it’s also so pink, the color a little bit more intense on the tip, even more when you’ve been teasing him for a little. you like playing with him until he’s so hard that it looks like it hurts. he likes it too.

“i would like to have one too.” you whispered, more to yourself than to him. your hand squeezed a little around the base.

“yeah?” jungkook breathed out. you knew he was looking at you, but you kept looking down at his cock in your hand. “you would look fucking hot.”

you perked up at that and the conversation somehow ended up with jungkook coming in your hand and telling you he was gonna take care of everything.

and now you’re here. and jungkook must be getting impatient in your bedroom. but you can’t stop staring.

“hey,” jungkook speaks again. he sounds closer now, he must’ve walked to the closed bathroom door. “we don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.”

“no, no, i just–” you try to find the words. “i want to do this, it’s just… new. it’s intense.”

“hm, i know.”

“just– go back to the bed, i’ll go there now.” you tell him and you hear him hum in response before you catch the slight creak noise of the bed. “i don’t know why i feel so shy.”

“you don’t have to be shy, love, it’s just me.” jungkook replies. “i’ve seen you naked a million times.”

“yeah, but this is different,” you pout and look down at the dick– at your dick. “i feel more naked than ever.”

“do you want me to get naked too?” jungkook asks you and you can’t help but smile because he always tries to make you feel comfortable.

“no, you don’t have to.” you say and finally open the door and walk out.

your boyfriend is sat on the edge of the bed, leaned back on his elbows. his legs are spread and he doesn’t look not one bit ashamed of the tent on his sweatpants. he is so fucking hot.

“holy fuck, love.” he sighs a couple of seconds after checking you out.

“i feel like a piece of meat.” you half complain, half joke and cover your now flushed face with both of your hands.

“hey, don’t hide from me, you look beautiful.” jungkook says, sounding a little more serious now. so you let your hands fall from your face and find he has sat up straight on the bed.

“do you think so?” you ask shyly.

“you know you do, don’t act all humble now.” you snort when he winks at you.

“i feel… weird.”

“weird?” jungkook asks and stretches an arm to offer you his hand. you walk closer to him and blush when you see your dick bouncing a little with each step. jungkook is looking at your face though, a worried expression on his.

“not weird, i just don’t know what to think, i– i don’t–” you try to explain but your head starts to get dizzy when you stand in front of jungkook, right between his spread legs, and your dick is so close to his face.

“can i tell you what i think?” jungkook tells you, his eyes going from yours to your lips, then down to your neck, then your chest to your stomach until it they fall on your dick.

“yeah…” you breath out. your arms hang awkwardly on your sides, you don’t know what to do with your hands.

“i think you are so fucking hot,” jungkook licks his lips as he takes in every detail of your dick. it was his idea to get a realistic one. “you are always hot, but this… fuck, love.” he lets out a breathy chuckle and looks back up at your face.

“you like it that much?” you ask him and he nods. his eyes get so big whenever he looks up at you. he looks adorable, but your cock is so close to his lips, his pouty lips. the image is intoxicating.

one of your hands goes down to hold his jaw, you keep him right there looking up at you and drag your thumb across his lower lip. your other hand goes to your mouth and you do exactly what you’re doing with his lips, you drag your thumb across your lower lip and open your mouth when he opens his. jungkook sucks your thumb into his mouth and you do the same before sliding that hand away from your mouth and down your chest, down your stomach. jungkook follows it with his eyes as his tongue plays with your thumb.

a moan vibrates around your thumb when you wrap your hand around the base of your cock. you don’t even realize you moan at the feeling on your hand until jungkook looks up at you with big eyes.

“love,” he mumbles around your thumb, you slide it out of his mouth and spread his spit over his lips. “can i– can i suck you off?”

if the cock you’re holding was actually attached to your body it would’ve twitched and leaked on your hand.

“yeah,” you nod. “please.”

jungkook’s hands go to rest on the sides of your bare thighs and pulls you just a little bit closer, almost making you trip and fall against him, but jungkook is strong enough to hold you up. he leans closer to you and your hand unconsciously goes to the top of his head, threading your fingers across the soft locks gently. jungkook hums, he likes having his hair played with. then he gives the head of your cock a little lick and you swear you can feel it.

you can’t physically feel it, but something in the back of your brain tells you he’s actually touched you with his tongue. you don’t tear your eyes apart from his mouth on your cock when he starts kissing the tip. he kisses it like he’s making out with it and your hand tugs at his hair unvoluntarily. he moans against your cock at the feeling.

“baby...” you whine when he wraps his lips around your cock and starts to take it inside his mouth. “fuck.”

jungkook hums around it as if it tastes amazing and just takes more of it in. you almost choke on a moan when he starts slowly bobbing his head up and down on it. his eyes stay closed until he suddenly opens them and looks up at you.

“baby.”

you moan again and slide your hand to the back of his head to pull him closer. he ends up gagging and you panic, motioning for him to pull away, but he only sinks down on your cock again to take more.

“just like that, baby…” your legs wobble a little when jungkook slides his hands up to your butt and squeezes your cheeks while he keeps bobbing his head up and down. “so good, you’re doing so fucking good.” you praise as you push his hair back and away from his eyes so he can look at you again.

and fuck, you’re throbbing under your fake cock.

“this feels so good, fuck…” you whine and jungkook finally pulls away from your cock. a string of spit connects the tip with his lips. you’re about to go crazy.

“you taste so good.” he smirks at you as one of his hands starts stroking you, the slide easier thanks to his saliva. he’s made a mess on your cock.

“fuck, jungkook…” you throw your head back for a moment because even if you know he’s just tasting the material of the fake cock that’s the hottest thing you’ve heard. “this is so hot.” you mumble and look back down to him. he’s already too focused on your cock again.

“you’re so big, love,” he says and licks his lips once again. “my boyfriend has such a big cock.”

“kook baby…” you whine as he starts stroking your cock faster.

“want you to cum in my mouth,” jungkook mumbles and your hand unconsciously tugs at his hair again when he opens his mouth and sticks his tongue out like he’s waiting for you to give him your cum. “hm… would you like that?” he chuckles breathlessly.

“jungkook– i– fuck,” you moan when he starts swirling his tongue around your tip. “this feels so– so good… i swear i can feel it.”

“you can?” he perks up. his eyes get a bit bigger.

“i don’t know how to explain it… it’s like– when i look at it my brain makes me believe i can feel it,” you explain completely out of breath because jungkook keeps licking at the length of your cock. “you’re doing so good.”

jungkook just smiles up at you and kisses the tip of your cock cutely.

“wanna make you feel good too.” you say and he hums.

“yeah?”

“yeah, please lay down.”

jungkook does as he’s told, laying down comfortably on the bed before you straddle his hips.

“this is so hot.” jungkook places his hands on the sides of your thighs.

“wanna try something.” you move back a little and hover over his body to be able to tug at the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them down. your mouth waters when you see his cock spring free, proudly hard and resting on his stomach.

“what do you want to try–? ah…” he gasps when you take his cock in your hand.

“i love your cock.” you mumble, spreading the precum on his tip all over his length.

“hm... love yours too.” jungkook slightly bucks his hips up to fuck into your hand. he’s so hard and heavy on your hand, you would love to feel the weight on your tongue but you want to try something else first.

you sit comfortably on top of his thighs and align your cock with his, pressing them together and trying your best to wrap your hand around both of them. your hands are too small for the two of you though, so you wrap both of your hands around your cocks and stroke them slowly.

“holy shit,” jungkook moans as he looks down at what you’re doing. “that feels so fucking good, love.”

you can feel him throbbing under your palms and his tip keeps leaking precum so you spread it over both of your cocks to make the slide easier.

“feels good?” you hum, taking a look at his face. he looks fucked out already. his pretty face is flushed and sweaty, his bangs sticking to his forehead. you love seeing him like this.

jungkook can be dominant when he wants to be, but you know him well enough to know that he does better being the one who’s taken care of. and you love taking care of him, you love making him feel good and seeing him fall apart like this.

“don’t stop, please.” he begs, and by the trembling of his thighs under your butt you know he’s trying his best not to fuck into your hands.

you look back down at your cocks and you throb under the harness. “our cocks look good together.”

“if you keep talking like that i’m gonna cum.” jungkook warns you with a breathy chuckle and you smile at him.

“gonna cum on my cock, baby?”

“fuck, y/n…” he lets his head fall back on the pillow for a second before looking back down, like he doesn’t want to miss anything. “let me do it.”

you hum and let go of your cocks to let him wrap his hand around them. he can do it with just one hand, it’s still a tight fit when he tries to close his hand around both of them but you know he likes it tight. he starts jerking you both off just a little bit faster than you were doing but still not fast enough to make him cum.

“baby, you’re drooling.” you manage to let out a fond chuckle when you see the spit on the corners of his parted lips and lean closer to wipe it away with your thumb.

the movement of you leaning closer to him pushes your cock forward and a loud moan escapes jungkook’s mouth. “yes! do that again!” he begs and you look down in confusion. “fuck my hand.”

you obey right away, moving your hips forward slowly and watching your cock sliding against his and into his hand. the friction must feel good for jungkook if the uh uh uh’s mean something so you keep fucking your cock into his hand until he’s whimpering.

“love, i’m gonna– ngghh… i’m gonna cum.” he mumbles so you push his hand away from your cocks and just wrap yours around his, jerking him off fast and tight. you want him to cum. the sight of jungkook reaching to wrap his hand around your cock and jerking you off at the same pace makes you moan with him.

“yes baby,” you hum as you start to fuck into his closed fist. jungkook lets out another loud moan when he sees you. “be a good boy and cum for me.”

when jungkook cums he moans louder than you’ve ever heard him moan. you panic just for a second that you will get a noise complaint tomorrow but your worries slowly fade away in the back of your mind as you watch jungkook spilling ropes of cum all over his stomach and chest.

“fuck…” jungkook sighs once he’s stopped coming. you can tell he’s spent by the amount of cum on his torso. “that was so good.”

“yeah, i can see,” you cup his face with one hand and lean down to give him a kiss that he lazily returns. “look at what you did,” you hum and look down at the mess on his torso, he looks down too. “messy boy.” you chuckle, leaving a kiss on his cheek before sliding your hand down to his chest. you get a bit of his cum on your fingers and bring it to your mouth.

“love,” he looks at you with hooded eyes as you moan around your fingers. “you’re gonna get me hard again.”

you sit up straight again and press your cock to his softening one laying on his stomach. “would that be so bad?” you hum and get some more of his cum there to spread it over your own. his cock visibly twitches but you ignore it, you just pick up more of his cum and coat your cock with it, looking at it in awe.

“shit…” jungkook curses under his breath.

“i like this,” you mumble. “i wish i could cum like you. i would feed it all to you,” you say as you pick up the last drops of his cum to pour it on your cock before you start stroking it. you can hear jungkook moan at the sight but you keep looking down at your cock, too hypnotized with how it looks. “you would take it, right?”

“yes.” jungkook breathes out instantly.

“of course you would,” you smile to yourself as you watch your fist swallow your slick cock. “my good boy would take it all in.”

“all of it,” jungkook says and gets a hold of your hips again. “fuck into your fist, love.” he says as he moves your hips forward.

you bite your lip in concentration as you stop moving your fist and start to move your hips instead, watching your cock fuck into your fist. jungkook’s cum is getting a little dry around your cock so you spit on it to make the slide easier, not missing jungkook’s groan.

“is this how you would like me to fuck your mouth?” you ask jungkook and finally look up at his face. he looks even more fucked out than before. “you want me to fuck your mouth until i’m coming down your throat, baby?” you keep fucking into your fist, slow but steady.

“yes!” jungkook nods anxiously, his messy long hair beautifully splayed on the pillow around him like a halo. he’s so pretty.

“hm?” you run your tongue across your lower lip as you lean down to hover over him again, one hand next to jungkook’s head supporting your body. “i think i would like to cum on your face though.” you tilt your head as you look down at him, taking in every single detail of his face, wondering how he would look with your cum all over it.

“please…”

"you want it?” you hum as you stroke your cock faster.

“yes! yes, please, i want your cum.” jungkook whines and only then you notice the slight creaking sound of the bed and the sight of his bicep flexing. you are pleasantly surprised when you look down and find him stroking his hard cock. he got hard again just watching you.

“are you insatiable or what?” you tease him, a little bit condescending.

“you’re so hot,” he mumbles. “wanna make you cum.”

“yeah?”

“mhm… all over my face.” jungkook hums. you can see a drop of sweat down his temple.

“baby,” you sit up again because your arm is about to give out. “i’m so wet, fuck… you don’t– you don’t understand, i need to cum.” you look down at your cock and whine desperately because no matter how hard or fast you stroke yourself you can’t cum.

“come sit on my face.” jungkook taps the side of your thigh.

you don’t even think twice before starting to clumsily take the harness off your body. you don’t even have time to be embarrassed about the mess you made right on the harness before tossing it away, throwing it somewhere across the room.

“come here,” jungkook tugs at your hips to make you move forward. “please, want to make you cum.”

you crawl on top of him until you’re on your knees on top of his face and he doesn’t really give you any time to prepare before he’s using all his strength to pull you down on his face with both hands.

“fuck!” you scream when he starts eating you out like a starved man. “jungkook… fuck…” your thighs tremble with your weight and you bring one hand to jungkook’s hair, tugging at it a little.

“so wet for me,” jungkook mumbles when he pulls away for a moment. “you’re fucking dripping on my face.” he chuckles and dives in again, lapping at your entrance as he rubs his nose against your clit.

“oh my– ah, fuck…”

jungkook smacks one of your asscheeks with his hand, pulling another loud moan out of your mouth. you start grinding against his face, throwing your head back while jungkook hums like you taste deliciously. his hands on your ass push you to grind harder against his face and it feels so good you have to support yourself with both hands on the headboard of the bed not to collapse.

“baby… jungkook, baby… i’m so close…” you whimper and look down to find jungkook already looking up at you with half-lidded eyes. “you’re doing so good, gonna make me cum,” you bring one of your hands back down to his hair, pushing a couple of strands away from his eyes. “want that? want me to cum on your face?”

jungkook’s eyes roll back and you can both hear and feel a muffled response against your entrance. he nods, the movement makes the tip of his nose rub against your clit again.

“gonna cum… gonna make a mess on your face.” you tug at his hair and the moan he lets out gives you the vibration you needed to finally come undone.

your whole body twitches with your orgasm and you hold on tight to the headboard not to fall down, even if jungkook’s hold on you is enough to keep you up. you ride your orgasm grinding against his mouth but jungkook just dives in further, using all of his strength to make you grind all over his face.

“jungkook!” you whine and twitch in oversensitivity as he nuzzles against your pussy like he’s desperate for it.

the sight is so nasty. jungkook’s face is a glistening mess with your orgasm all over it but he looks drunk on it. he only stops nuzzling against you when you tug at his hair a little too hard and beg him to stop because you’re too sensitive. he pulls away with a choked moan and a shiver.

your eyes widen in realization. as you take a look back over your shoulder you see the mess he’s made on his stomach. again. he came completely untouched.

“jungkook?” you get up on your knees, supporting your body with your hands on the headboard to look down at him.

“sorry… fuck… i don’t know what came over me.” jungkook mumbles as he tries to catch his breath. his face is all wet and he looks like he’s having the time of his life. he honestly looks drunk.

“you are so nasty,” you manage to chuckle and he only smirks, his eyes still closed as he pants. “we should go take a shower.”

you step back on your knees until you’re straddling his lap to lean down and kiss him. you taste yourself on his lips, jungkook just lets himself be kissed and you pull away with a giggle.

“you’re really exhausted, huh?” you tease.

“i am,” jungkook pouts cutely like his face is not covered in your arousal. “i don’t want to get up.”

“i’ll help you.” you finally get up from the bed and offer him a hand that he lazily accepts. you pull from him and easily get him to get up. the last few months working out with him are paying off.

“hey," he says once you two enter the shower. "did you like it?"

"yeah," you smile and nod, he smiles too. "i liked it a lot, thank you for doing this with me."

"thank you for trusting me." jungkook responds and you kiss him.

you wash each other's hair and share a ridiculous amount of kisses before walking out of the shower. you then grab some comfortable clothes and go make something for dinner. jungkook doesn’t leave your side, backhugging you while you walk around the kitchen and saying “i’m here to give you kisses” when you call him out for not helping you with dinner. you laugh and reach behind with your hand to slap his ass playfully.

“i want you to fuck me next time.”

you choke on a piece of meat when you hear jungkook blurt those words out like nothing during dinner.

“what?" you cough and reach for your glass of water to drink a little and ease your throat from the coughing. he looks at you with an amused smile.

because you’ve talked about this before. a couple of months after you started seeing each other he told you he had bottomed before and that it wasn’t really his thing. he liked topping, period. and you liked him topping. so the thought of him bottoming had never really crossed your mind.

until now.

you think back to how nice he looked panting under you when you stroked your cocks together, how much he looks to be taken care of. it wouldn’t be so bad to top him.

“i don’t know… we could try it out, if you want to.” jungkook shrugs and keeps eating.

“but i thought bottoming wasn’t your thing.” you say quietly.

“to be honest, i didn’t have good partners when i did it.”

something in your stomach twists. “oh, jungkook–”

“no, don’t worry, it’s not like that,” jungkook quickly cuts you off. “i just… i guess they didn’t know how to make me feel good, but you always make me feel good.” he gives you a blinding smile that you can’t help but return.

“i’ll make you feel good.” you nod and he giggles before diving back into the food.

you finish dinner and decide to have a couple of wine glasses since neither of you work tomorrow. you then throw a giggly and tipsy jungkook over your shoulder and carry him to bed. he mumbles something about you being so hot and then falls asleep curled up against your side.

-

—

-

a/n: i hope you enjoyed this :) i will try to continue this story because i hold it really close to my heart and i love them both a lot <3 thank u for reading

[runnning-outof-time]

I’m Not Gonna Leave You | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by @rangerelik

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: (Y/N)'s still having trouble with getting past her husband's injuries. Tommy assures his wife that he's not planning on leaving any time soon.

Warnings: nightmare, Tommy’s season 3 injury

Word Count: 1872

A/N: bit of a shorter one here….it was fun trying to work the prompts into the story - I hope it all makes sense. The prompts are italicized. Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

(Y/N) threw the door to the townhome open, her heart beating so loudly that it was all that she could hear. "Ada!" she called out as she began looking in the front rooms, "Ada where are you?" her panic increased with each second as she wondered if the ambulance had come already. She wasn't sure if she wanted it to have or not.

She got her answer when she walked further into the main hallway and found her husband and sister-in-law sitting at the bottom of the stairs. Ada was trying to keep Tommy engaged while Tommy was trying with all he could not to let his head lull back and his eyes shut. "Oh no," she gasped, rushing over to where they were. "Tommy...Tommy, what's happened?" she frantically searched for his hand, wanting to hold onto it.

"I don't know what happened, (Y/N). He came here like this," Ada answered, her voice shaky, "he...he said that he had a fractured skull, a concussion and internal bleeding, and that he couldn't see," she then rattled off what Tommy had told her when he'd asked her to drive him to the hospital. She decided to call him an ambulance instead.

"(Y/N)..." Tommy stumbled over his wife's name as he tried to get it out with what little energy he had left.

"Tommy? What, what is it?" she quickly turned her attention to him, holding onto his hand tighter.

"I...I love you. You and the children...they, they mean so mu...so..." he stammered out, squeezing his eyes together and opening them again in hopes that he'd see her beautiful face, but everything was still black.

"No, no...you're not doing this. You're not saying goodbye," (Y/N) began choking on her cries once she realized what he was doing.

"I need to...I need to sleep," he panted out before he finally let his head drop, his body losing its tension as his grip on her hand went limp.

"No!," (Y/N) screamed, a wail leaving her body as she grabbed onto her husband's jacket, trying anything she could to get him to come back to her.

"(Y/N)..." Ada's voice came from her side, calmer than she should have been at that moment, "(Y/N)..."

"No, he's..he's..." she choked on her words, still trying desperately to get Tommy to stay with her.

"Wake up, (Y/N)," she heard before she was shaken awake. She noticed that she was in her dark bedroom as she sat up, gasping for breaths while trying to figure out fact from fiction.

"Tommy," she panted, looking over at him as she tried to calm her breathing, "you're...you're here."

"I am, love...I'm here," he nodded, speaking in a calming voice as his eyes searched over her face, "come 'ere," he said to her then, opening his arms so that she could fall into them.

She tucked her face into the crook of his neck and took a deep breath, inhaling his scent and repeatedly telling herself that he was still alive. Her hand traveled up from his shoulder to the top of his head, feeling the scar that was left over from his surgery. Feeling it made her heart hurt, but it reminded her that he'd survived...that what had happened in her nightmare wasn't how things went down in real life.

"Another nightmare?" Tommy asked her after she seemed to have calmed down.

"Yeah," she whispered, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. She finally felt like she could hold herself again. The shaking had calmed down and her mind wasn't running at a mile a minute.

She let go of him, sitting up straight in bed so that she could look at him. She studied his face for a few moments, as if she was committing it to memory, before she looked down at her lap.

"You ok?" Tommy broke the silence, watching her intently.

"I, uh..." (Y/N) trailed off, brushing her hair out of her face as she looked up again, "I'm going to go for a moment," she said then, moving the covers off of her body so that she could leave the bed. She was able to leave the room without being asked any questions, and that was something she was thankful for.

She found herself on the chaise lounge in her private study after checking to make sure that her children were still sleeping soundly. She stared at the ceiling as she laid back on the lounge, trying to focus on the sound of the crackling fire that one of the maids had just made for her. Trying to think of anything other than what she'd just gone through.

These nightmares had been playing out ever since Tommy's incident and subsequent surgery happened four months ago. He was home now, taking it slow and trying to work his way back to the level he was at before, but (Y/N) still worried that the effects of his injuries would persist and return. The doctors hadn't said that there wasn't a chance of that happening. No matter how many times he assured her that she was ok, she still worried for him. He would always tell her that he was ok, right? But yet the scene that she walked into at Ada's townhome that evening was still burned into her mind.

Thankfully the ambulance did show up in real life...and that they were able to get Tommy to the hospital and to the help he needed before he died on the steps. But the worst always happened in her nightmares, and that was something that she kept to herself; no matter how realistic they seemed. She didn't want to burden others with the horror of them.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been sitting in there before there was a knock on the door. It opened shortly after and Tommy stepped into the room, sleep prevalent in his mannerisms from across the room. His hair was disheveled and his trousers were haphazardly pulled up over his legs, the henley shirt that he usually wore to bed half tucked in and half let out. (Y/N) couldn't stop her heart from squeezing at the sight. Some days it was still a mystery; how she'd managed to find herself a man like him.

"You've been away for a while," he said to her once he was standing in front of the lounge.

"I lost track of time," she replied, glancing up at him before she brought her knees up to her chest and hugged onto her legs while staring out at the fire in front of her. Tommy watched her do this, silently feeling out the climate; trying to decide if he should stick around or leave her be.

He made his decision by sitting down on the now empty spot of the lounge. Him doing so blocked the fire from (Y/N)'s line of view, making her look at him instead. "What are your nightmares about?" he decided to jump right to the question, "they may not be so bad if you talk about them."

"I don't want to burden you with it," she answered him, resting her chin on her kneecaps as a frown formed on her face.

"You wouldn't be, love," he shook his head slightly, "you know about mine...it's only fair you tell me yours. You don't need to worry about scaring me off. I'm not going anywhere, and you can try as hard as you want, but there's nothing you can say that's going to make me love you any less," he assured her then, his eyes soft as he spoke.

(Y/N) sucked in a deep breath after hearing Tommy's statement. She thought about all of the times throughout their relationship where he'd been the one needing to be woken up due to his nightmares. (Y/N) would sit up with him after each and every time; talking through what he'd experienced so that he'd get some clarity from the terrors he'd just gone through.

"They're always of the night that I found you at Ada's house...but you never make it long enough for the ambulance to arrive," she detailed the events of her nightmares, starting to get choked up just from thinking about them. Tommy furrowed his eyebrows as he listened to what she had to say. It was obvious that he was thinking over what she was telling him; putting the pieces together in his mind so that he'd have a thought out response for her when she was finished talking. She continued after taking another deep breath, "they make me think about the worst case scenario...about how things could have been had I lost you that night. And they make me think of how things could be if anything comes up as a result of your injuries."

"Nothing's gonna happen to me, (Y/N)," he assured her, his eyes locked onto hers as he spoke, "I'm not gonna leave you."

"We don't know that for certain. The doctor's said they couldn't rule out the possibility of there being lasting effects from these injuries...or the possibility of something happening to you after the fact," she rattled off her biggest fears, her mind being transported to that harrowing conversation they had with his team of doctors before he was discharged from the hospital.

"I'm going to try my damnedest not to let it happen," he told her, speaking with the utmost confidence. (Y/N) offered him a shaky smile in response. She wanted so bad to take his promise and let it override all of her worries, but no matter how hard she tried, that nagging voice in the back of her mind kept telling her to think the worst. "Hey...come 'ere," he said to her, realizing that she was at war with herself inside her mind again.

(Y/N) listened to him, scooting over on the lounge so that she could fall into his arms for the second time that night. She exhaled the breath she'd been holding as she allowed him to hold her tightly against him. It felt like a weight had been lifted off of her chest now.

"I'm not gonna leave you, (Y/N), ok?" he mumbled into her hair after some time had passed. (Y/N) finally lifted her head from his chest so that she could look at him again. Their eyes met and she instantly felt like all of her fears and worries were miles away. The slightest smile formed on her face as she nodded her head, showing him that she'd heard what he said and that she was going to hold onto that statement with all she could.

Tommy smiled softly at her, happy that she seemed more relaxed now than she did when they'd both been woken up by her nightmare. He leaned in and kissed her then, feeling her smile grow the second his lips met hers.

Tomorrow surely had another set of challenges coming with it, but (Y/N) wasn't going to worry about that now because, at least for tonight, things were ok.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @iambored24601 @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

[romanarose]

Banner by @winniethewife

Oscar Issac/Pedro Pascal Fan Art and Fiction Pride Event 2024

Hello friends!

Let's try this again and I'll try to be more clear to not invoke discourse. That being said, it is *my* event and if you'd like to run one a certain way, go nuts. However, this is how I'm doing it.

I had a lot of fun doing Dead Dove December and the Triple Frontier Anniversary Event so I decided I wanted to do an event for pride this year! I know it seems far away right now, especially given how many of us in north America are still cold af, but I wanna give everyone time!

Each week of pride will have a theme to write or draw for (you don't have to do all of them! Think of it like kinktober.) at the end, I will put out a masterlist (or multiple depending how many)so we can all share each other's work.

Why?

Oscar Isaac and Pedro Pascal are both allies to LGBT people, Pedro having played multiple queer rolls and having likened his sexuality to that of Prince Oberyn. Despite none of the characters being canon queer, Triple Frontier specifically lends itself to queer stories. Recently, theres been a rise in stories of Oscar characters in relationships or Pedro characters in relationships which I love.

What I'd really like to do is encourage people to think past x fem!reader or canon presentation of characters. I want to encourage gay, lesbian, bisexual relationships, trans readers, trans interpretations of characters etc. More content guidelines will be in the what section.

Where?

Primarily tumblr.com, our very own shithole hellsight. However, especially given tumblr's censorship vs. twitter, I am encouraging posting on twitter or wherever you'd like. If you post something elsewhere, send me a link or send me a post you made about it on tumblr and I'll promote the link.

Additionally if you only write on ao3, I'd love for you to participate too! Once again, just send the link!

When?

in order to do the week by week themes and hold all of June, there will be 6 weeks from May 26th-July 6th

Each week will have themes. I won't be policing the weeks and these so if you do the 1st week on july 3rd, that's fine. The themes are keeping in mind both artists and writers. I only got one artist for DDD, a great piece and I've love to see more! Ideas are just for spit balling, do your own take!

May 26th-June 1st: Coming out. Ideas: Coming out to family, lover, friend. Finding gender affirming clothes/hair, first pride

June 2nd-8th: Transitioning Ideas: Surgary, surgery scars, starting T or E, binding (safely!!!)

June 9th-15th: Sex/kissing First time together, first time with certain biology or the same sex, sweet kisses, smut showing scars,

June 16th-22nd: Food, fashion, fun

All things queer culture and culture of different religions, racial or country backgrounds, queer fashion, gender affirming clothes, Keshet (קשת), listening to Lady Gaga or Bruce Springsteen, watching a queer movie

June 23rd-29th: Struggles Rejection, reconciling faith and identity, missing family that rejected one, comfort, candlelight vigil, day of remembrance.

June 30th- July 6th:Strength Asserting ones or a partner/friend/family's pronouns, standing up against hate, being loudly and proudly yourself, pride events

Who?

Writers and artists in any form are welcome. I also want to encourage working with each other, writers and artists together!

For characters: Any Oscar Isaac or Pedro Pascal character has to at least be in the relationship. Other characters in universes can be done, such as FishBen.

Reader can be anyone, just properly tag! If you want to come out to Marc Spector as bisexual, do it!!! If you want Joel to take care of you after top surgery, do it!

YOU DO NOT NEED TO BE QUEER TO PARTICIPATE!

However! Please do your research if writing or drawing an identity not yours. There are trans, nonbinary, gay, lebian etc bloggers all over tumblr who write about their experience, please divert to first person testimonies rather than assumptions.

What?

A few rules

MUST contain more than male character x fem!reader. Male character x fem!reader x male character does not count unless the two male characters are romantically or sexually involved or one or the reader is trans. Any Q's, dm me!

This is not a dark event. I'm not going to be policing the content matter but I really want to primarily focus on the pride. However, as a bisexual, gender non-conforming person I know a lot of pain can still be involved. What we are not doing is suicide, death, self-harm, or non consensual activity. If you have questions or would like to make a case for something, just dm me!

This is not inherently NSFW, but there is absolutely NSFW allowed. Always tag everything properly.

The usual no's like bestiality, incest, underage nsfw etc

As far as minor characters, SFW MINOR CHARACTERS IS ALLOWED. You can write or draw lgbt themes because being LGBT is not inherently sexual. For example, teenage Santi coming out as trans to Frankie or your own version of Ellie and Joel's talk about Ellie and Dina kiss. That being said, I'd prefer to reserve this to teens. Again, any questions or ideas that don' quite fit into parameters, just ask!

As always, I am allowed to use my discretion. If I do not want to include something, I won't. However, I know that there are rifts in the fandom. I won't be excluding you out of personal bias. As long as I don't have you blocked and you haven't plagerized or done something really bad to people, you'll be included. I'm not letting petty beefs get in the way. Harmful actions will, however. I need to protect my peace and keep

NO REAL PERSON FANFICTION. Do not write about Oscar Isaac or Pedro pascal being gay or trans and do not make any assumptions about their sexuality or gender identity. Oscar is happily married to a woman and Pedro has expressed his sexuality is like that of Oberyn Martell but has not elaborated much further, nor should he have to. Just leave ‘em be. You can speculate elsewhere but that’s not what this event is for.

How?

Simply tag me, @romanarose and use the #OscarPedroPrideEvent2024 please please please use BOTH so it's easier for me to find!!!

When the event is over, much like DDD I will compiled them into a masterlist and posted. This is a chance for every blog, big and small, to get a moment in the sun and to share each others works! Remember, reblogging, comments, and interacting is what makes this a community! I want to create an environment that is welcoming and we all help each other.

Please feel free to reach out to me for any questions or clarification!

However, if you go issues with me writing men kissing, chracters being trans, queer readers etc, I'm not really open to debate.

~A nonbinary bisexual <3

[squiddy-god]

hnrghhm being t4t with bladie :(

Hmmmmhmhmfjgjgjgng I ADORE WRITING T4T STUFF AND I LOVE BALDE so yes i will absolutely imagine being t4t with bladie  REQUEST OPEN♥︎ don't be shy Cw : t4t, trans masc blade x trans reader, i decided to do trans masc reader because i am a trans man myself, fluff, sweet t4t thoughts, physical touch, period mentioned, intimate touching of boobs but not in a sexual way 

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚

Augh omg being t4t with blade is so tasty i love this

Blade lothes his curse, that much is clear- however there is one good thing about it and that's ironically the scars 

His body is littered in scars and as he stares at the havoc that the curse has inflicted on him, at least the scars put a different part of his mind at ease

They help the dysphoria and make him feel more masculine

There's also the added bonus that you insist on kissing said scars 

Blade operates on a talk shit get hit (stabbed) basis, and when with you that extends to you

Aeons forbid that anyone starts making comments about you, they are about to have a very rude awakening 

Oke here me out, when you get sensitive from binding too long (assuming you bind and/or don't have top surgery) blade will massage your boobs, pre and post top surgery blade also likes/lets you do the same to him 

Blade isn't very talkative but there has never been a doubt that he sees you as a man, no matter how you present and if you “pass” or not, doesn't matter and he will fight about this 

Blade who gets these awful and terrible period cramps and starts behaving like a grumpy but very clingy cat 

He wants cuddles and he will be damned if he doesn't get them

Literally just lay on top of him while he uses the hot pad

Ok so we all know the buttons on blades shirt are fighting for their life, but i think blade doesn't like shirts, most of the time when he's not going out he isn't in a shirt

Mmmm spiky jagged top surgery scars my beloved 

I will die on the hill that blade is clingy in a quiet way

He's quiet, doesn't talk a whole lot, but he always seeks you out, revels in your comfort and companionship, so he ends up being shockingly clingy

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚

[pookapufferfish]

Sona master post time!

here is the post guys, gonna put it under a cut because I have a lot to say about a lot of my sonas

1)Bear man? He has no name really, just me really. technically I made his species a grolar bear but he is just kinda a silly bear. hat and glasses are optional. bandana and sweater are interchangable. technically you can draw top surgery scars on him but I haven't had top surgery yet so I will only draw those scars when that happens. But yeah he is my defult sona

2) Lemon (aka spearsona) My rain world sona, can be anthro or just a scug. he has no mouth usually, mouth can be given if silly enough. He has fluffy paw pads (kinda like rabbit feet) The patches on the anthro version overalls represent my friends that I feel closest to (there is a missing pink bow patch from my old drawing because that friend blocked me, please don't attack them if you find out who they are) I will be adding more patches, don't worry friends

3) Gator! My more silly playful sona. goofy and stretchy and moldable. kinda a guy I use when excited of playful. when my brain is very lizard brain. He has 2 requirements for if you draw him, green and has the snoot. go wild if you draw him, I love this fella.

Update (11/09/24): Gator has a shark fin on his back now. same rules as before but now requirements are green, the gator snoot and the fin

4) Draygon This guy and below are more personal or with friends so just keep that in mind and ask if you are allowed to draw them doing something. (if you are a mutual or we interact a lot you can draw this guy) Anyways he is just a long dragon with a fluffy mane, if you see him I am usually sarcastic or have had a very rough day

5) Banana! :D Pokesona, he is an eeveelution designed by my friend @boyswhowawa (I can remove tag if you want) called alebreon. He is a ground type (he also looks quite different from the normal alebreon, they are not normally bright yellow) the green arm band is mandatory. He usually is around his friend squash (I cannot share squash because that is friends sona) I actually don't mind fanart of him but he is more personal to me

6) Zigzaret :P my second pokemon sona, a galarian zigzagoon, sentret hybrid. a silly pal. nothing too special he is just silly. you can draw him being a goober and a sweetheart.

7) Squizzard OwO originally a fusion of lonely wizard and a squirrel from inscryption. He is extremely personal with my close irl friends. ask me directly if you want to draw him. I find him silly and I love him but would be uncomfortable if he got just random fan art

[syn4k]

survivorship bias

During WWII, the United States used survivorship bias to improve their planes. The bullet holes in returning aircraft represented areas where a bomber could take damage and still fly, while bullet-free areas needed reinforcement because planes that got shot in those areas did not come back at all.

Why do you think every single queer person of significant age is so loud and defiant about who they are? Why is the stereotype of a loud queer who makes being gay their entire personality so prevalent? Why do you see them everywhere?

Here is a statistic for you: queer youth in the United States are four times as likely to attempt suicide than their peers, with 12% of them making successful attempts. From a study conducted by the Trevor Project in 2022, over a third seriously considered suicide in the past year. That number jumps to 42% for genderqueer youth. 

Take a moment and process that. Fourty two percent. That's almost half. 

For every trans person over 20 you meet breathing on the street, there is another one with one foot already in the grave. 

What I'm saying is that there is a reason that the proud ones are the only ones that remain.

As an at least somewhat visibly genderqueer teenager, a question I get asked a lot is "if you could magically be switched into the body of your target gender with no questions and no repercussions and everyone forgot you were trans at all, would you do it?" They are well-meaning, most of the time. They are curious. They simply want to know. 

My response, every time, is "absolutely not." 

(For some reason, they never expect that answer.) 

I am one of the lucky ones. When I say lucky, I mean beyond blessed and beyond fortunate to have been born into the family I have. My parents are devoted to each other and to raising a child who is going to make it to adulthood one day, and while they may not understand everything, they understand that it is far, far more important to have a kid who is strange alive and happy than it is to have a kid who is miserable and regular and dead. 

You do not get things for free in this world. As hard as we may wish for her, there is no magical fairy that will descend from the sky and instantly change my body to what I hope it will be some day. God knows if that fairy existed we would not have fourty two percent suicide statistics. God knows she'd be a patron saint in her own right. 

But these things take time and these things take money and these things take luck. You have to watch your words when dealing with the fae lest they use your own phrases against you. When I made a plan to get top surgery, my doctor, my mother and I all agreed to tell the insurance company that we were doing it to ease back pain so that they'd agreed to pay for it. These are the things we have to deal with. It's not even too urgent of a procedure for me. I can live with what I am. 

Too many cannot. 

I do not want to be invisible. I do not want to be silent, because silence is what drove my peers to despair and eventually to death. Silence kills. 

I want scars on my chest and two weeks of recovery time and every dirty look from the soccer moms at the pool when I go shirtless. I want to stride into the county court and testify in front of a judge to get a legal name change. I love this body. It is not perfect but it is mine and it is home. 

Silence kills. I want to be loud. I will viciously, visibly love myself and every demonized miscreant for the sake of the quiet ones who are looking for a reason, any reason to stay alive. I will be that reason. I will be a light in the darkness and I will love them as I love myself, as their parents and friends should love them. 

Do you understand? I do not have a choice. I have to survive this world for the sake of my brethren who didn't. 

I hope that one day we do not have to look at bullet holes in planes and razor blade scars on arms to reverse engineer how to survive in a harsh world. I hope that one day we will all wake up and look at the sun shining through the window and think my god, it's beautiful. How lucky I am to be alive. How lucky I am to be here in this moment despite everything. 

I hope we all make it. I hope it gets easier. 

Until then, I will be a beacon for those lost in the darkness. I will persevere. I will show them that it is not all suffering, this, and that it is in fact an altogether beautiful thing that you are here despite and in spite of all the forces leveled against you. 

I am one of the lucky ones who made it. I love this life and this body of mine and I accept every flaw contained wherein because it is infinitely better than the alternative. I choose the pain of living over the pain of oblivion. I choose to stay, imperfect though the location is. I do not have the choice to do anything else. None of us do. 

You only get one life. 

Do not spend it hesitating in the dark. 

[mimzy630]

Today, October 18th, I'm saying happy birthday to my favorite Psyncer, Kuruto Ryuki!

The incredible @vividcitrus illustrated my transmasc Ryuki headcanon comfortably showing top surgery scars on the beach!

More on my story below the cut :)

Ryuki is absolutely the Psyncer I see myself in the most. I love all the Psyncers and really tons of the characters in AI: THE SOMNIUM FILES and nirvanA Initiative dearly, but Ryuki is the closest one I have to a kin.

When I first met him upon starting the game, I resonated immediately; he plays the somewhat asexual-coded straight-man to Tama's sexy routine which immediately endeared me, and his fluctuations between needing to prove himself and be the one to solve the case to being severely depressed at not being good enough... Yeah! No, hello, that's me lol.

I wasn't really a part of his little fanclub before release, but oh boy did I fall hard and fast for the scuffly little cutie, and that love only grew stronger as the game went on- seeing Ryuki getting so absorbed in his job he forgets himself, seeing him so focused on one way to solve things that he has to make impossible choices, seeing him get paralyzed by choice when it matters most... Yeah! I mean yeah that's all me yeah. Not to his extreme levels of course but oh yeah no every scene with him only made me love him more.

He's just adorable... Ahhh I want to put my hands through his hair... Ahem, anyways, as soon as I finished the game I was like damn... I might have a kinnie... And I don't think I'm exactly a Ryuki Kin per-se, but I do very much see myself when I look at him.

I am also transmasc! Specifically, agender, but who knows where my journey will take me. I have a hard time struggling to think of what I want to look like; I don't have a real sense of identity much at all, let alone visual identity. Most of my self-image is a big ole void.

But I know there are certain parts of me I'd love removed LOL to I reached out to m, the artist, and we chatted- I've always had a soft spot for transmasc Ryuki and been kinda hoping someone would draw him someday, so fuck it, I decided I make it happen myself. In the process of this commission, I forced myself to really think about how I'd want to look, how my scars would look, if I wanted nipple grafts, etc., and m was super happy to work with me on all of that!

The final version, with the more understated scars following the natural curve of the pecs that go from below the armpit to mid chest and no nipple grafts, makes me actually feel good... Like, hey, maybe someday I too could be topless on a beach, smiling and confident... It's a far-off dream that I have to save a lot for, but hey... That murky swirling void in my head has cleared up just a little bit, enough for me to be able to see a happier future for myself, and that's everything really.

I know I'll never look like Ryuki exactly, there are a lot of obstacles to this, but at the very least, when I find money and a surgeon, I can say "that. That's how I want to look, and that's how I'd feel looking like that." Which is more than I've ever been able to do! Dysphoria is my constant companion, but euphoria tends to elude me... @vividcitrus turned the tables on that!

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Trans Pride (Doctor Who One Shot)

Tenth Doctor x Masc!Reader (FTM specific) / requests are open

Summary: You can't believe the Doctor didn't know you were trans.

CW: not really any cws but reader has had top surgery and the Doctor is an oblivious idiot (and we love him anyway)

Doctor Who Tag List: @nyxiethesimp @quickslvxrr @midnight--raine @blueberry-sunshines (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

It’s not something you’d ever had to bring up with the Doctor. You just were who you were. You had to admit even to yourself that you passed well on the average day-to-day. You had your less confident days, of course, but deep down you knew even on those days that unless someone was really, really looking- or already knew, most people wouldn’t be able to tell that you were assigned female at birth. Which was how you liked it, anyway. Given you weren’t female. 

As far as you knew the Doctor was aware, but it wasn’t something you needed to clarify either. It wasn’t something you went around announcing just like a cis-gendered person didn’t wander around announcing their gender either. 

And so when you’d needed to change your shirt after your shower, but realised you’d left it hanging over the bannister in the console room, you hadn’t thought a single thing of it.

With a sigh, you haphazardly dried off and wrapped the towel around yourself. Opening the bathroom door, you peeked both ways down the hallway to check for the Doctor before making your way in a little bit of a rush to find your missing tee. 

You entered the console area and clicked your tongue when you saw the offending article sitting over the handrail just where you thought it would be. How you managed to leave it out in the open when you went to shower was beyond you. 

“There you are,” you hear a very familiar voice. The Doctor’s face pops up from around the centre console, glasses pushed back against his face and expression screwed up as he attempts to get his eyes to focus on you from that far away. His frames were mostly for close-distance viewing. 

You shuffled closer and whipped the tee off the railing. 

“Here I am,” you replied, placing a hand on the knot of the towel. The Doctor pushes his glasses onto his hair like sunglasses and blinks to clear his vision. 

“Wondered where you’d got off too. Left your shirt.” 

You wave the shirt softly in your hand. 

“Thanks, Doc.” 

The Doctor’s brows draw down for a half second before straightening out again, and you look down at yourself, wondering just what it is he’s looking at- oh. Oh, it’s your top scars. You look up at him and cock your head to the side in confusion. 

“Uh, did- sorry, I need to ask you a question,” you say, not wanting to make assumptions.

You all but hop up the stairs so you can stand in front of him. The Doctor stops what he’s doing on the monitor immediately to give you his full attention. 

“Shoot-” he says before cutting himself off. “Well, ask away.” 

“Did you not know I was trans?” Your lips trip up into a grin by the end, and you can feel a laugh bubbling up in your throat. “Like, did you- did you not know?” 

The Doctor’s mouth opens and closes for a second, and you marvel at the fact that he is speechless right now. The Doctor, the man who always knows exactly what to say- speechless! This was absolutely priceless. 

“I may not have known, no,” he says after another couple of seconds scrabbling for words. “I mean, you pass exceedingly well. I had no idea. None! Brilliant, isn’t that brilliant?!” 

You puff out a laugh and nod, shoving at his shoulder playfully. 

“I’d say so, yeah,” you agreed, letting the Doctor’s infectious grin pass over to you as well. 

The Doctor put his hands on his hips, shaking his head with that unshakable grin.

“Blimey,” the Doctor breathed back. “Think I need a minute to soak that all in. Had no idea, me. Well, handsome- where would you like to go now?” The Doctor blinked and looked down at your towel. “You know, once you’re dressed and everything.” 

You hummed thoughtfully. 

“What’s Pride like in the twenty-eight-hundreds?” 

The Doctor lets out an excited and elongated ‘ohhhhhhh’ as he starts fiddling with the controls. 

“You’re gonna love it. It’s brilliant!” 

You don’t think there’s any doubt about that.

[kaleidoscopewritings19]

Bruce Wayne x Reader

Title: “Secrets will be told” SERIES PART 6 FINAL PART

Need a Refresher? Here are the previous parts!

Part 1      

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Pairing(s): Bruce Wayne (from the show Gotham) and Female reader. BOTH BRUCE AND READER WILL BE 26-28 in this part.

Warnings: None; I did not proofread; I quickly skimmed through

Summary of series: Bruce Wayne was captivated when he met Y/N, and the feeling was mutual. Dating turned into being engaged and engaged to married. They knew each other’s secrets and told each other everything; they confided in one another. But once Y/N follows Bruce back to Gotham, he begins to change... He becomes secretive, is he having an affair? Y/N needs to find out the truth.

The sound of beeping made me open my eyes. I frantically looked around, and tubes were in my nose, and the heart rate monitor was beeping quickly. “Y/N, sweetie, please calm down..” My mom’s hands held mine, and I turned to look at her. 

I could feel a burning sensation in my hand, and I held my hand in front of my face. The palm of my hand was wrapped in a bandage, and the doctor walked in. “It’s about time you woke up, Mrs. Wayne. You’ve been asleep for three days now; we were starting to get worried.” he said, as he looked down at his clipboard.

“Do you remember anything that happened?” he asked and I leaned back into the pillows behind me. “I-I was kidnapped... By Jeremiah Valeska, and I was saved by..by...” I started to remember last night.

“Stay standing. Don’t pass out. Just focus on me.” he said, and I shook my head. “Please, just tell Bruce I love him. Tell him, I’m not mad. Don’t let him blame himself for.. for.. th-this.”

My lungs were burning, and it felt like they could no longer hold any air.  My legs began to shake, and before my eyes closed, I heard the batman say: “I love you too...” 

“It’s okay, we don’t need to go over everything right now. But I am advising you go to therapy when we get you home. What you went through was traumatic, and I think it would be a great help..” he said, and then he cleared his throat. “But let’s discuss what is currently wrong. Your oxygen levels were extremely low from breathing in all of the chemicals. Your hand-” he lifted up my hand and unwrapped it.

My hand was red and blistered, “You will have a permanent scar on you right hand.” I lifted my hand up and the chemical burn was in the shape of a “J”.  Of course, that bastard had to leave his mark.

The doctor grabbed my hand and wrapped it with a clean bandage. “But there are some corrective surgeries that can fix it. I can get something scheduled if you would like.” he said, and I shook my head.

“Where’s my husband? Where’s Bruce?” I asked, and my mom stood up. “He went home to take a shower. He will be back soon.” Her thumb massaged the top of my hand, and I sighed.

 “Why did you go to Metropolis?” my mother asked.

“I can’t remember. I’m sorry.” I said, as she pushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I’m just so happy that you are going to be okay.” she whispered. 

The doctor picked up his clipboard, “Alright Mrs. Wayne. Your hand is all good to go. Now, I must advise you to get some rest. And if everything is good by tonight, I will consider letting you go home early.” he said before walking out of the door.

My mother and I sat there talking about her and my father’s recent trip, until she had to go home to clean up broken glass. I sat there staring at the bandage wrapped around my right hand. I began to unwrap the bandage and hissed at the stinging pain that shot through my entire arm. 

I stared at the raw, blistered skin. Of course, he left his mark on me. I started to cry at the site of it; I felt disgusting. I could still feel his lingering touch on my bottom lip, and the way he stared at me. I was supposed to be dead. Never has anyone wanted me dead, and I hoped that they put Jeremiah away. Because now, this felt like a game that was not going to end in my favor. 

A knock on my hospital room door tore my gaze away from my hand. Bruce stood there with a bouquet of roses. I wiped the tears from my face, and he quickly made his way over to me. “Y/N, I am so sorry about what happened. I wanted to be here when you woke up, but your mom made me go home and clean up.” he said.

He watched where my gaze went, and he looked down at my hand. “Let me wrap that up so it doesn’t get infected.” he said as he grabbed the bandages that were on the bedside table. I stared at him as he bandaged my hand, and he finally looked up at me. “We need to talk when we get home.” he said quietly, and I nodded. 

“About the divorce?” I asked, and he looked down at his hands. “If that is what you want, then yes. But I would really like for you to reconsider those divorce papers.” He spoke.

“Why would I do that?” I asked, and he pressed a kiss to my forehead. 

“We will talk about this when we get you home.” he said, and he stood up from his chair. “Right now, I’m going to let you rest.” 

An hour after Bruce had left, I had fallen asleep. 

“I want to be able to control your pain and how fast you die.” Jeremiah hissed as he dragged a knife that had the residue from the chemical down my arm. 

“Stop! Please, stop!” I cried out, and all he could do was laugh in my face. 

Slowly, he dragged the knife down my cheek, “I hate having to scar your pretty little face. Maybe if Bruce doesn’t want you after this, I will give you a chance. After all, you will look just...like....me.”

I felt a hand shake my shoulder and all I could do was scream “No! Please, get off of me!” Bruce’s hand pulled back from me. 

“Y/N, it’s just me. It’s just me.” he said, and I jumped into his arms. “Please don’t let him get me, Bruce.” I cried out, and his hand cupped the back of my head. He pulled me closer to him, “He’s not coming back, Y/N. It’s over. Jeremiah is dead.” 

I pulled away from Bruce’s chest, “He-He’s dead? Are you sure?” I asked and Bruce nodded. “You don’t have to worry anymore.”

When we had gotten back to Wayne Manor, Alfred was smiling. “It is so good to have you back, Mrs. Wayne. Want me to fix you something to eat or drink?” he asked, and I shook my head.  

Bruce gave Alfred a small smile, “I think we need some time to talk, if you don’t mind Alfred.” 

Alfred handed Bruce something, but I didn’t see what it was. Bruce picked up my uninjured hand and led me to his study. “I know I said I can explain everything, but I think it would be easier if I just show you.” 

I watched him walk over to his desk and grab a remote, and he clicked a button, and a loud sound made the room tremble. I took a step back as the fireplace retracted into the wall, revealing a dark hallway with stairs. Bruce picked up my left hand and led me down the dark staircase. “Um.. This isn’t the part where you are actually going to murder me, right?” I asked and Bruce smiled.

“You watch way too much crime shows, Y/N.” he continued to lead me down the never-ending staircase, but a bright LED light was shining at the end of the hallway. He turned to face me, “Before we go any further, please let me explain and answer your questions. And if you still want a divorce after seeing all of this, I understand.”

I followed him into the blinding light, and after my eyes adjusted to my surroundings, I gasped. A group of computers almost took up one entire wall, and a big black military looking car was on the opposite side. But Bruce led me to a glass case, and once we got close enough, I stopped dead in my tracks. 

It was the Batman suit. Bruce opened the case, and I pressed my left hand up against the chest of the suit. Memories of being carried out of Ace Chemicals replayed in my mind. 

When he spoke that night, his last words to me were “I love you too.” Those words were not spoken in the Batman’s voice, but in Bruce’s voice. The scars on Bruce’s back, the late nights of him not being home, and this is the reason why he bulked up. Bruce Wayne, my husband, is the Batman. 

I turned to Bruce with tears in my eyes, “It was you. You are the Batman?” 

Bruce nodded his head as tears ran down his cheeks. “I had to retaliate, Y/N. When I heard Jeremiah escaped Gotham, I couldn’t be a sitting duck anymore. It wasn’t just me anymore, I had to protect you.” he said.

“And that woman in your office? Who is she?” I questioned and Bruce sighed. “That woman was Selina Kyle. She was warning me about Jeremiah. She heard that he was coming for me, but she didn’t know when. But instead, he went for you.” he explained. 

“We have been friends for a very long time, Y/N. Nothing is or ever will go on between her and myself. She is the reason Jeremiah will never come for us again.” he whispered, and I lunged into Bruce’s arms.

“I was so scared that I was going to die, Bruce.” I cried into his chest. “But the last thing I thought of before I passed out, was you. And when I looked into the Batman’s eyes, I should have known they were yours.” 

Bruce’s arms tightened around me, “I can’t lie to you, Y/N, but things are not going to be easy. Now that you know I am Batman, this is going to make you a target.” he said as he pulled away from me and held my face in his hands. “I can’t give up being Batman now. Gotham needs me more than ever, and if you want to leave me, I won’t hold it against you.” 

“Because I will never forgive myself if something were to happen to you. A part of me knows I should have left you in the dark, and I should have signed those divorce papers.” he said as a tear slipped from his eye. “But another part of me, the selfish part of me, doesn’t want to lose you. I love you, Y/N. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. However, I will respect the decision that you make.” Bruce said as he pressed his forehead against mine. 

I took in a deep breath, “I don’t want a divorce, Bruce. I really don’t. But please, don’t keep any secrets from me.” I said quietly, and Bruce picked me up off of the ground. “No more secrets.” he said before pressing a kiss to my lips. 

“Mrs. Wayne, you are going to need these.” he said as he pulled my engagement ring and wedding band out of his pocket. Bruce slipped them onto my ring finger. 

A few weeks later, I was able to remove the bandage from my hand. This was the first time in weeks I had seen my bare hand. As I removed the bandage, I saw the dark red ‘J’ scar that would be a permanent mark. 

Bruce came into the bathroom and leaned against the door frame, “Are you alright?” he asked, and I closed my hand. “Yeah. I’m just trying to get used to this ugly scar.” I say and he wrapped his arms around me. 

“It won’t always be red. It should somewhat fade.” he said as opened my hand. He looked at the scar and sighed. “If I could have been there sooner.” he whispered, and I cupped his cheek. “Don’t go down that route, Bruce. I am just thankful you showed up when you did. Otherwise, things could have gotten worse.” 

He wrapped his arms around me, and I took in his scent. “Can I ask you something?” I asked, and Bruce nodded. “Will you train me, Bruce?” I asked and he pulled away from me. 

“Train you? For what?” 

“I don’t want to be that girl that was locked in a glass room, about to be murdered, Bruce. I don’t want to be the girl that is left with a scar as a reminder that I cannot protect myself.” I said and he tore his gaze away from me. “Please, Bruce?”

He stood there staring at the wall, and finally he answered. “Okay. You’re right. You need to be able to protect yourself. I will train you, but it’s not going to be easy.” 

That night, when we left “the batcave” after he told me was Batman, our lives had changed forever. I had to share the love of my life with everyone else in Gotham; they got the Dark Knight, and I got Bruce Wayne. The person I fell in love with at Princeton. 

He trained me just like he promised he would. Hell, I was so good at fighting that I was now known as the “Black Widow”. I fought right alongside my husband, helping keep the streets of Gotham safe.  

Then we adopted our first son, then our second, and then our third. Then Bruce found out he had a love child from before we met in college. And then we had a set of twins of our own. As a family, we had a pact, and that was never keep a secret. Because Secrets will always be told. 

----

I know, cheesy ending. But I hope you guys enjoyed this little mini-series. I had fun writing it, and at times it was challenging, but definitely worth it. Thank you to the readers who stuck it out until the very end of this series! 

(Also, I couldn’t figure out a superhero name. So I went with Black Widow, I mean, I always can picture Bruce with a Black Widow!Reader. I do not own the rights to Batman/Bruce Wayne, or the characters mentioned. I only own the story line. Nor do I own the rights to the hero name Black Widow).

XOXO

TAGLIST: @rl800 @auspicious-lilana @theclassicvinyldragon 

@moon-shampoo

[detransition]

from missmastectomy

A mastectomy has physical AND social repercussions. A therapist or a surgeon might tell you the obvious, like that you can’t breastfeed and that your breasts won’t grow back post-mastectomy, but they won’t tell you about what the mastectomy *feels* like. They can’t. They have never experienced it.

I can tell you, though.

I am 3 years post double mastectomy (top surgery, not cancer related). It is nothing like having a naturally flat chest. Even without my incision scars, my chest doesn’t have the same fat distribution on either side, though it’s small enough to be noticeable to me and not anyone else. I have sensation, but it’s very much dulled, especially on my nipples. I’ve seen it described as the chest feeling like a black hole and I have to agree.

I don’t look like I have a “male chest,” and a big part of that is because I have curves. Males and females FUNDAMENTALLY have very different chests and removing your breasts WILL NOT give you a flat, girly look or a male look. That is highly unlikely. You are much more likely to look like a woman with scars and just a generally “off” chest.

There’s so much trans art out there that just doesn’t represent what a double mastectomy looks like in real life. It is highly romanticized and often portrayed as ✨ cutesy scars ✨ on an otherwise masculine body. No. No no no, that is not what this procedure does! I promise you that when you look up trans mastectomy results, you are going to end up seeing the “best ones,” the most successful ones, often on transmen who pass quite well and already have pretty masculine body types.

You are far less likely to hear about the botched surgeries, which thankfully mine is not. The surgeries where people need multiple revisions, the surgeries where people lose ALL sensation, the surgeries where people develop chronic pain.

When you get a mastectomy, you are removing a body part full stop. There are going to be side effects because this procedure is no joke, and mine are comparatively mild. I get itching on my scars sometimes and a mild burning sensation, which can be triggered by stress. Even if it’s elective and you think you want this, your body will remember it has lost a piece of itself. It doesn’t matter how dysphoric you are. There used to be something on your chest and now it is gone forever and nothing will bring it back, barre more surgery that is nothing but an imitation of the real thing.

I cannot express to people considering this surgery how difficult recovery is and living with it afterwards, even if you’re happy at first. I was happy at first. But then I detransitioned and realized I had been taken advantage of by a sociopathic, money hungry surgeon as a teenager. Even if I had persisted as trans, I would still deal with the fact that my flatness was not natural, but surgically constructed. My body could never forget the physical trauma of being sliced into like that, no matter how much I thought I wanted it.

You are not a Mr. Potato head. These are serious surgeries and they have serious, life long repercussions. Your breasts are not baby feeders or male attractors - they are a part of your body, your temple. And your body will feel the loss, even if (at first) you do not.

Do not get this as an elective procedure. These surgeons are lying to you. They don’t care about you. All they care about is money. The next time your dysphoria acts up and you’re considering a mastectomy, don’t think about the fantasy you’ve constructed in your mind where you’re just a male with chest scars. Instead, think about the fact that I’m order to achieve this “look,” you literally need to maim yourself. Think about the total loss of sensation, the dangers of the surgery itself, the feeling of complete and utter violation you will live with permanently if you ever regret your decision.

And then make your choice.

thinking of detransition? you are not alone

[exmotranny]

the green carpet scratches at your pink heels. bile rises in your throat.

they talk about womanhood- but it’s not quite right. there is the pink and compliments and talk of boys

i am a beloved daughter

but there is also something else. it digs at your flesh, it feasts on your skin. your mother motions at your chest, bigger than hers and you're not even done growing yet! how lucky.

of heavenly parents

you pray to a man every night, finish it in another’s name. on your knees. you were sent a shady link as a kid. the woman on her knees, tears streaming out of her eyes, i don't want this, she said

with a divine nature and eternal destiny

blood on the inside of your underwear. you were told this meant you were a woman now. you were ten years old. what the fuck did you know about being a woman? your mom said you weren’t allowed to touch between your legs, but it's normal to want to. you didn't know what that meant, either.

as a disciple of jesus christ,

you wanted to be desired. you daydreamed of being the trophy for boys around you, of claiming that role one day as a wife. you came from a long line of women married young. you don’t know their names, but you were taught about their husbands in church.

i strive to become like him.

pressing your breasts down as much as possible, trying to give the illusion of a flat chest. badly cropped jpgs of jesus photoshopped to have top surgery scars are the secret currency you pay to get past the hours of church. you hold them like diamonds.

i seek and act upon personal revelation

you thought god was talking to you. you almost threw away everything you owned. you thought you were a prophet. total fuckin’ ego death! holy shit! god speaks through me!

and minister to others in his holy name

and then the next morning. when your faith crashed, when moroni abandoned you, did it feel unreal to you too, joseph?

i will stand as a witness of god

oh god, no. please. i don’t know what’s real anymore.

at all times

leg hair peeking from under your pretty sunday dress. they all stare. you ignore them and open up to D&C 132.

and in all things

emma, did you love him to the end? i don’t think you wanted him. did you watch as he married a 14 year old? did you tell him you burned the commandment? did you cry when he died for the church that he loved more than he loved you?

and in all places.

blood on the floor of carthage jail. this martyr will be remembered forever. do they talk about you, emma? or are you just joseph’s wife?

as i strive to qualify for exaltation,

when i marry, my husband will be a god, and i shall cleave onto him. when i marry, i will go to his universe and bear more of his children.

i cherish the gift of repentance

heads bowed low as the sacrament is passed. my hands clutch onto the bottom of my skirt. pleasure outside celestial marriage is forbidden. i apologize for loving the wrong way.

and seek to improve each day

i tried to kill myself, last time i got home from girl’s camp. i got home and cried and found the pills and shoved them into my mouth until i cried more and more until i was gagging. i hunched over the toilet. my hands on the grimy floor.

with faith, i will

forced to sing in front of the congregation. my head spun from anxiety. my stomach turned with nausea.

strengthen my home and family,

loving wife beautiful kids loyal husband church once a week work weekdays weekend mom monthly round on the business end of his cock forever and the vomit threatens to make an appearance.

make and keep sacred covenants,

an old man is in a room alone with me. he asks me if i masturbate.

and receive the ordinances and blessings

i tell the man no. i receive a card so i can be ordained.

of the holy temple.

that's just how it goes, isn't it?

all around are paintings of god and jesus. we learned about heavenly mother. why don’t i see her in paintings? did god have plural marriages? did heavenly mother make us? why don’t we pray to her? did she watch god marry a 14 year old? did she cover her eyes? when she saw blood on her underwear, was she told she was a woman? did she touch between her legs? did she ever believe herself better than god? does she cry when she cant talk to us? why do i cry? was heavenly mother scared of singing in public and did she press her chest flat and did she cry when god forced himself into her mouth? did she burn his doctrine too?

i am given flowers on mother’s day. i will be one eventually, after all. and i vomit in the church bathroom quietly like the perfect woman i am supposed to be.