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infiniteimaginings · 8 months ago

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Can you do a transmale!reader x Harry Hook/Uma

(if you do multiple characters)

Where reader is chosen with the main four in the first movie (kid of Jack Sparrow) and leaves. He’s part of Uma’s crew. And when he’s chosen in the first movie, he’s pre-T or anything like it.

Then the second movie comes along and reader goes back to the isle with the others to bring back Mal. But he really goes because he wants to see his pirates. Except now he’s been on T for about a year now and had his surgeries. So they don’t recognize him and kidnap him along with Ben.

Anddddd I can’t really think of anything else after that. So…have fun with it! Preferably a happy ending, with lots of fluff and sweetness.

Pre-established Uma/Harry and Reader didn’t come out to them before leaving so as far as Uma/Harry know, Reader is a cis woman. So it’s a surprise when he finally tells him who he really is.

And yeah, that’s all. It’s alright if you don’t write it, I’d understand. Thanks!

Are we supposed to know you? (Uma x TransMale!Reader x Harry Hook)

Summary: You were sent off with the other Vk's to Auradon and when you come back to retrieve Mal, you're changed. You of course go back for Mal, but it's mainly to see the people you left and to tell them you're home. What happens when they don't recognize you and see you as a threat, just like Ben. How will they know you're who you say you are? Pronouns: You/Yours, She/Her (In mentions from Uma and Harry), He/Him Warnings: None Word Count: 2.7k A/N: (Long A/N) Act like Jefferson doesn't exist, I forgot he existed lol. Also, I won't lie, I started this at one o'clock in the morning, and was contemplating how on earth I make this fluff when they don't recognize him and kidnap him. So, unfortunately I didn't get lots of fluff into it, I apologize, I will write a part two to this little thing just for you with only fluff in it. I hope I did the general idea justice, if I didn't, I apologize. Lots of love! <333 (Even if I explained it, you guys would not understand how frustrated I've been with tumblr and my computer. I'm so sorry for how late this is, I've been upset because I had to delay it. It's here now though.)

When Mal came to you , talking about the Isle, you couldn't help but get excited. Your eyes lit up and your smile got wider at the thought of discussing it. Mal noticed your obvious signs of wanting to continue the conversation so she sat down next to you on the bed, looking out the open curtains where the students of Auradon Prep walked. The blonde girl looked over to you, the tips of her hair their typical purple. She sighed and looked back down, messing with her fingers, “Do you ever feel like…” She paused, unable to express how she felt in words. It would’ve been easier for her if you were the first person she went to, but you weren’t.

She went to Evie, Jay, Carlos, but none of them could understand where she was coming from. It was as if everyone was happy with their new lives, but her.

Mal groaned, putting her head into her hands, unable to speak anymore.

You looked at her curiously, placing a hand on her back and rubbing small circles into it. “You wanted to talk about the island…right?” You asked her, tilting your head to see her expression. She removed her hands and nodded, not looking at you. “Yeah.”

“Is it because…you miss it?”

There was a pause, as if the room itself stilled, as if the world stopped. You moved your hand a bit just to make sure it wasn’t some sort of magic freezing everything.

Mal sat up straight, swallowing hard, “I don’t miss the island itself.” She confessed, making eye contact with you, “I miss who I was.” She explained, taking a deep breath, “Do you get what I mean?”

You looked at her blankly, tilting your head as you looked down at yourself.

As you did so, she opened her mouth before closing it immediately. She shook her head and laughed, slapping your arm lightly. “You know what I mean!”

“Hey, I didn’t even say anything!” You chuckled out, putting an arm around her, placing your head on hers. “But…” You began, rubbing her arm softly as she leaned into you, “I do get where you’re coming from.”

Mal looked up, her eyes a bit water, “You do?”

You nodded with a smile, “We went from a life of no no structure, doing whatever we want, enjoying life to…” You blew air out of your mouth, sighing heavily, “Rules, etiquette, expectations.”

The girl next to you stiffened at the last word before she relaxed, leaning more into your shoulder. “I just miss….” She trailed off, shaking her head.

“You miss the freedom.”

“Yeah, I miss the freedom.”

You nodded, thinking for a moment. Soon enough, you removed your arm from her and turned to her, “Then, get it back.”

“What?”

“Show everyone that you still deserve your freedom.” You explained, moving your hands with your words. “We didn’t stop being villain kids just because we started going to Auradon.” You continued watching as her eyes got bigger, “You don’t have to fit into these boxes people are trying to force us into.” You told her, shaking your head, “If they don’t understand that, then they never really understood you.”

Your words seemed to have gotten to Mal as she stood up quickly, a small smile on her face. “I needed that, thank you.” She told you, inhaling softly as she turned to the door to walk out.

You waved and mumbled a small ‘you’re welcome’ once the door was closed since she gave you no time to.

You didn’t think much of it, you just assumed she would do something to show people that she was still herself even if she wasn’t ‘evil’, or necessarily ‘good’.

Well, you didn’t think much of it until the next day when the VK group and Ben bursted into your room. You jumped, shoving a paper under your pillow as you clutch your chest. “Last I checked, knocking wasn’t a foreign concept.”

Evie mumbled a small apology as the rest stood with apologetic but serious faces.

You sat up since the air was so tense, tossing your legs over the bed to stand in front of them, “What’s up?”

“Mal left for the Isle.” Carlos blurted out, blinking rapidly as he looked everywhere but you.

Ben looked down with a guilty face, a frown placed on his lips. “We had a fight…” He mumbled, “She said I didn’t understand how…” He paused, clearing his throat, “She said I didn’t understand her.”

Your eyes widened and your mouth fell open at the realization and of the conversation you had with her.

Jay noticed your expression and knitted his brows together, “What?”

A harsh cough left your throat as you looked away from them, “I might’ve had something to do with that.”

The group simultaneously yelled, “What?!”

Your hands raised in an automatic surrender, “Hey, she came to me talking about the Isle,” You began your explanation, “and I miss my

Evie wasn’t pleased to say the least, she crossed her arms with a raised brow. “We are your people.”

You almost laughed, but given the situation you decided not to. “I miss my people.” You specified, your words reminding the group that all of you weren’t exactly the bestest of friends back on the island.

They couldn’t say anything, they knew you were right. Ben didn’t exactly get the message, and that reminded you all of why you were gathered in the first place.

You agreed to go to the Isle to help Mal.

You agreed, but you weren’t really going to help Mal. She lived there her entire life, you knew she would be fine. She knows her way around the island, she practically ran it. You weren’t going to the Island to help Mal, you were going home.

Once all of you reached the island, you thought you would all spread out to find Mal…that wasn’t the case. You all went in a suspiciously large group to find the daughter of Maleficent, something you thought was stupid.

You thought it was stupid, but you all still found where she was hiding out and Ben went to talk to her.

Evie, Jay, and Carlos all talked to each other as you scanned the area, kicking the ground slightly as time passed by. You were barely on the island and now you all were going to leave. It wasn’t how you wanted things to go, nothing was how you wanted to go.

Ben walked out and before anyone could question him, he walked straight past you guys. Everyone looked at each other and you sighed, “I’ll get him.” You grumbled, jogging after him.

“Ben!” You yelled, trying to catch up to him. “Ben, wait up!” You yelled once again, finally reaching him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “What happened? Why are you so upset?”

“She doesn’t want to come with us, all of this was for nothing.” Ben spoke harshly, ripping his beanie off his head and throwing it to the ground.

You sighed, picking the beanie up, dusting it off. “Ben, do me a favor.”

“What!”

“Look around right now.” You told him, gripping the beanie tightly. He looked at you confused but you repeated, “Look around right now.”

Ben regulated his breathing, calming down enough to look around. It was cramped, cluttered, dirty even. It wasn’t properly cared for but the people around seemed to be having a good time nonetheless.

When he looked back at you, you were looking at the children running around, trying to find a way to pick-pocket Ben. “This is how we grew up Ben…” You mumbled, finally making eye contact with Ben, “You can’t expect Mal, the daughter of the biggest villain who was on this island, to just snap into a princess.” You explained to him, shaking your head.

Ben turned, looking at the area around, “I didn’t realize…” He whispered, eyes flickering to something new the more he looked.

When the son of Belle and the Beast turned around to face you again, you were nowhere to be found. He turned around quickly, breath picking up the pace as he looked for you, “Where’d you go?” He called out, spinning in a circle until he felt a tap on his shoulder. He let out a sigh of relief, “Come on, that wasn’t fun-” The next thing he knew, everything went black.

Blurry eyes opened, a dry throat let out a cough, and vision restored. Ben looked around for a moment before his gaze fell on you. You were sat with a blank expression, seemingly uninterested in your current situation.

Ben muttered a few incoherent sentences but you cut him off for a moment.

“Getting kidnapped was not on my vacation bucket list.”

Neither of you could even begin a conversation after your words when someone started laughing. The two of you looked up and saw someone had walked in, seemingly amused at your situations.

“Absolutely hilarious, you’re quite funny.” The male said, looking you over a bit before turning his attention to Ben to do the same thing.

Your brows furrowed as you broke out of whatever ‘trance’ you were in. “Harry?” You asked aloud, adjusting yourself to get a closer look at him.

He pointed his fake hook to you, placing it under his chin. “How do you know my name?”

“How does who know your name?” A voice called from behind the boy, footsteps getting louder as they neared.

Harry tilted his head, “This one.” He spoke, moving his hook from under your chin to step back.

The person that walked in was a girl, she had light blue braids and brown eyes. She stood tall with the hat of a pirate on.

Your brows furrowed once again, your mind still a little fuzzy from your current situation. “Uma?” You mumbled out, tilting your head.

“You know these people?” Ben suddenly spoke out, trying to get out the rope that tied his hands behind his back.

You looked over at him, a bit unimpressed. “I was raised here, I know everyone here.”

Harry gasped falsely, fake hook over his heart, “You’re a VK?” He asked, not expecting you to answer, since he didn't believe you.

You nodded, forgetting that you look different so they don’t recognize you. “Uh, yeah.” You spoke as if it were obvious, “Born and raised.” You spoke, trying to jog their memory. “Uma, I was in your shop every single da-”

“Oh, and are we supposed to know you because of that?” She asked with a straight face, squatting down to bore her eyes into yours.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes before opening them again, “If you said you didn’t, I’d be questioning our friendship.”

Your captors both laughed, looking at each other, “Friendship?”

Ben decided to give up, still listening to the conversation. So much was running through his mind, he was trying to figure out how to get out of this situation until…he realized something. You knew these people, you guys were friends, they just didn’t recognize you. If Ben reminded them, maybe they would let you guys go.

He thought it over before blurting out, “He’s the child of Jack Sparrow, so yes he is a villain kid.”

Everyone went silent, their laughs were quiet, and your breathing stopped at Bens sudden exclamation.

You looked over and Ben looked you up and down, and that is when you realized…they don’t know who you are. You had changed so much in the past year, even your voice was different. How did you just expect them to recognize you?

When you looked back at the two pirates, they were staring you down. If looks could kill, you would be six feet under.

Uma squatted down in front of you, glaring harshly, “Don’t you ever disrespect her like that ever again.” She whispered to you seriously, her head whipping to Ben, “Don’t you ever mention her in front of me, again.”

Harry took a few deep breaths, “She would’ve been fine here, and you took her.” He told Ben, poking his chest with his hook. “If you ever try to lie to us, I will gut you like a fish.”

Uma nodded to the statement, “You think we wouldn’t know her family?” She asked you, tilting her head. “Jack Sparrow had one child, a daughter, and she’s never coming back.” She paused, biting the inside of her cheek, “For you, a preppy, to just try to claim her father as your own for some sense of freedom…it’s disgusting.”

The blue haired girl stood slowly, keeping her eyes on you. You finally released the breath you were holding, when she removed herself from your space.

You blinked back a few tears as they turned to walk out the door. Harry gently took Umas hand, whispering some things that you couldn't hear.

They were so good together, they still defended your name even if they thought you weren't there. You didn't expect your chest to hurt so badly when they protected you, even if they believed you were gone for good.

“I would’ve joined your crew even if I lost that race.” You mumbled, looking at their backs with sad eyes.

The two paused before turning to you, “Excuse me?” Uma asked, standing in place.

“The race..” You trailed off, “If you won I would join your crew, if I won you would have to spend a week proving to me how much you wanted me to join and then I’d give you my answer.” You continued, nodding with your own words. You didn't notice how they continued to walk towards you. You continued on, “Unfortunately, I was dragged to Auradon before I could answer you, so I’m doing it now.” You told them, looking up to see both of them analyzing you with parted lips, “I was going to join your crew anyways.”

Umas eyes were focusing on each of your features before she cupped your face, looking at you more intensely.

Harry looked up, making eye contact with you, “You have her eyes…” He muttered, taking off his hook to trace your cheeks.

You swallowed harshly before breathing out a chuckle, your cheeks warming a bit. “I would hope so, I was born with my eyes, guys.”

Uma shook her head, “But she’s… you’re not…”

“A girl…I know.” You whispered out, looking down, or trying to. Harry picked your head back up swiftly.

His eyes were watering slightly, “You’re telling the truth aren’t you?”

You nodded as best as you could with his hands on your cheeks. “I know I don’t look the same…”

He shook his head, “But you’re still you…”

Uma quickly untied the rope keeping you tied up, trying her best to go quickly. She had ordered her crew to tie your guys up from your arms to your legs, and now she was regretting it. Harry noticed her struggle and began to help untie you, muttering curses when he got to harder knots.

Once you were untied, you rubbed at your wrists, looking down for a moment at the burn.

You looked up, finally, and were met with Harry and Uma on their knees, staring at you. Their eyes were teary, their chests were rising and falling deeper than ever, neither could speak.

You felt your own eyes begin to water as you rushed forward, wrapping your arms around the both of them.

Harry's arm immediately went around you, he began to cry into your shoulder, holding you tightly. “We thought we’d never see you again.”

Uma, on the other hand, was hesitant. She slowly wrapped her arm around you. When she did, she felt a rush of familiar comfort, a heat rushing through her chest, something she only felt with Harry and…you. She bit her tongue so as to not cry as she buried her nose into your other shoulder, “We would’ve found a way to you anyways.”

The warmth of the two enveloped you as you finally got to be near them again, as you finally got to feel their comforting arms again. “I have no doubt in my mind that you would’ve found me again.” You whispered to them, trying to hold them tighter.

Harry rambled on about never leaving them again, Uma ran her fingers down your back, both of them weren't letting you go anytime soon.

Uma sniffled a bit, "We missed you so much."

"I missed you guys too, more than you'll ever know."

You were finally with your people again. Now, you didn’t have to stare at a picture of the three of you, wishing they were in your arms.

#uma descendants #Hary Hook descendants #Harry Hook #Uma x Harry Hook #descendants x reader #disney descendants #descendants #disney descendants x reader #Harry Hook x Reader #Uma x Reader #Disney #Disney x Reader #infinite imaginings

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utilitycaster · 4 months ago

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Whenever people are like "well LIAM'S characters never faced any backlash when HE played characters in the spotlight" and "no one will let WOMEN have negative qualities" when Caleb and Vax and Orym have received pretty constant hate for main character/sadboy/scene stealing and when meta writers outright stopped talking about Imogen because a particularly mindless set of hit dogs are still hollering about how she is so good and kind and how dare you call her selfish, it's really like...in the service of trying to make your failure of a point you've just said something that literally anyone with a memory lasting longer than the apocryphal goldfish length can immediately debunk, which in turn absolutely shreds your credibility going forward, if you had it.

More generally there's something very vile here, because on the surface this statement does look like an attempt, if one ignorant of pretty much any fandom conversation, to defend women. The thing is it's come from a place of defending Dorian and Ashton's plan - a man, and a nb person who would not identify as a woman - that requires a particularly great deal of sacrifice from the women of the party. So of course they just switch tactics. Instead of "how dare the fandom not think women are always best" it's "how dare the fandom disrespect a disabled nb person and a person played by an indigenous actor." And I'm sure they'll switch again. Because pretty much every character in this campaign is on some axis of oppression, and there's a few people in this fandom who, instead of considering these things as important details that inform these characters, seem to largely treat their minority statuses as ammunition. Feminism and antiracism and queer advocacy are all just part of a shell game to them - accuse everyone who disagrees with them of being a bigot, say that their opinions are inviolate because they match that of literally any character who isn't a cis het white man, of which Bells Hells has none. Unsurprisingly, it's that social media purity culture that's just the evangelical church with a gay hat: they are always the victim, and everyone who disagrees is the devil, and being a good person always happens to line up with what you already wanted.

There are several posts from the past day or so accusing people of liking Campaign 3 less than the two previous ones which refused to accept that this might be due to the hurry-up-and-receive-an-infodump pacing, the singular focus without much time spent on backstory, the gaps in party composition, and the fact that the plot manages to combine the weakest elements of each campaign - the fetch quest/NPC guidance heavy nature of C1, and the meandering/slow start of C2. No, it must be the awful, sinful fandom unable to handle the lack of a major M/M ship (false; Dorian and Orym aren't canon, but neither were Vax and Gilmore, and the latter was sunk far sooner) and the fact that a female character is at the center of the story (see above re: how hostile the same people making these accusations have been to anyone who actually wants to discuss Imogen in a way that doesn't fit their specifications). Just to repeat this: many fans have outlined a number of purely narrative and structural reasons why C3 isn't working for them. These people have assumed this is all a lie, because assuming otherwise that would require either addressing these critiques, which in turn would require admitting other people can have valid opinions that oppose their own without being horrible bigots - in favor of throwing out whatever random accusations they think might stick. It doesn't matter what's actually being said; they're not actually listening, and for all they might talk about fans of color they sure all seem to be white; for all they talk about misogyny and queerphobia they sure won't hesitate to immediately assume the worst of queer people and women who say things they don't like. And rarely do they address any of the actual ongoing bigotry that does exist in the fandom; it's all random accusations because you agreed with the white woman instead of the brown man or vice versa; or it's the constant dredging of years past discourse that, as the first paragraph indicates, they will then ignore whenever convenient.

These are all pretty transparent signs of a bad faith actor spreading misinformation. To be clear I don't think this is any kind of conspiracy or has any organization to it. I think it's a just handful of deeply self-absorbed people who either refuse or literally cannot comprehend that someone could disagree with them without being a bad person and who will gleefully cry wolf with these accusations of bigotry. But it's been going on for quite some time and it's been a problem this campaign in a way I at least do not recall it in past ones, and it's had an absolutely devastating effect on the fandom conversation. Ironically, by trying to boost Imogen and Campaign 3 by shutting down any criticism of them, they've shut down far more of the conversation, hopefully not irreversibly, and I think it's time to point that out.

#it's all very *shoots gun at the fandom* why would the fandom do this #anyway. considering doing a little fact checking when i have the time for it.#cr tag

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genderqueerdykes · 16 days ago

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i dont know why, but your butch post got me thinking about about yet another problem the lgbtqia+ community has: prelabeling people as tops/bottoms. and even being disgusted with/erasing switches, which I've seen a lot. I'm a lesbian. i don't consider myself butch or fem because I'm not comfortable with those labels, but to the outside eye I do seem a little butch. i remember when I was in highschool I had a friend who always said I was "top-coded" and always called me a top. as a bottom and now a questioning aro/ace spec that shit made me so uncomfortable. and I told her that many times, but she just used the shitty "its just a joke" excuse. like omfg shut up

holy shit thank you because i literally wanted to talk about this in that post but wasn't sure if it would make it too long. you messaged me at exactly the right time, thank you so much because this bugs the hell out of me too

that's soooooo gross, i'm sorry that person was saying that to you. first of all that's literally none of their business, you really shouldn't just say that to someone. what the fuck does "top coded" even mean? not all tops are the same, there's literally all kinds of different top dynamics. also i think people get top/bottom and dom/sub mixed up, too, which is even more frustrating. they're not mutually exclusive, they don't mean the same thing. you can be a dominant bottom, or a submissive top. power bottoms are a thing. service tops are a thing.

i literally hate that people inherently assume that butches are tops and femmes are bottoms. like it's just kinda written in stone that femmes have to be submissive pillow princesses and butches have to be tops that take care of all of their needs and barely have theirs addressed at all. like, what about the butches who are bottoms? what about the femmes who are tops? also like you mentioned, do people literally not realize switches exist...? like that's literally also an option.

"butch" does not mean "top". "femme" does not mean "bottom". it's soooo gender essentialist and binarist to go. masc partner = top fem partner = bottom. you just recreated the cishet binary *again*. i can't get over how this is NOT progressive. i do NOT get why white cis lesbians think it's progressive to force butch lesbians to behave exactly like we expect cis men to behave, and force femme lesbians to behave exactly like we expect cis women to behave, but it's NOT PROGRESSIVE!

also, great point, which is that a lot of lesbians are ace. it's so shitty for someone to sit there and try to guess if you're a top or bottom when you're not even interested in sex. honestly is' gross as hell to analyze your friends' and prospective partners behaviors and categorize them into top or bottom. what the hell is wrong with people. that's not a joke, that's invasive, and creepy.

#asks #answers #lesbian

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freckliedan · 1 month ago

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“why is the possibility of transness something dan needs to be defended from, anyways? it's a compliment and we know dan takes it that way.” god thank you i am so glad you’re back. it pisses me off so bad how much people fundamentally misunderstand dan and BIG. as if he hasn’t mentioned gender at least 10 times this year. as if he hasn’t reiterated multiple times how it was thanks to his audience that he accepted himself as queer and was able to come out. as if he doesn’t love trans people and would never take offense at other trans people seeing themselves in him even if he is cis. i genuinely don’t get people who think it’s less harmful to be adamant that he’s a cis gay man experimenting with self expression like i promise you the line between that and transness is not that thick

mwah ily anon i'm always glad to wade back into the trenches 💛

you're literally so right w all of this but i'm especially seconding that the line between cis gay man experimenting w gender identity and transness being thinner than people think. it's so fucking real and i wish people held more room for that in their hearts.

sometimes a person's experience with gender is such that they need to figure out their sexuality and what it means to them and for them before being able to look at gender and people don't like. get that. sometimes a lesbian figures out they're a lesbian and only after that also figures out they're nonbinary and transmasc. the same can be true for gay men.

and some people only accept & understand it for transmasc lesbians rather than understanding that that doesn't only exist for lesbians. and that's fully due to unexamined transmisogyny.

there are so many lesbians and gay men alienated from binary womanhood or manhood to the point that they keep their sexuality but identify away from their assigned gender completely! there's so many of us with gender identities that seem mutually exclusive with our sexualities but aren't because we just. exist. contradictory and complex gender identities exist.

like. the underlying assumptions people approach dan gender conversations with are so hostile towards people with nonbinary identities like mine that i'm not willing to talk about myself here.

and it makes me crazy. because people constantly say "you're deciding for dan what his label is" or like "you're claiming specifics" while simultaneously firmly labeling dan as cis. and every single dan gender poster i know is saying "isn't it beautiful that dan could be anything, even cis and gnc?"

we're just commenting on probabilities. none of us are claiming sure knowledge.

and i really think trying to deny that dan is exploring gender expression at the very least is laughably impossible at this point.

#jam replies #anon #dan howell gender truthing

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hiskillingjar · 2 months ago

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Forcefem (All/MC)

forcefem you will always be famous. sorry for being quiet for the last few days, i was being a social butterfly for halloween, so uhhhh kink first week of november be upon ye.

day 28: forcefem second person. same mc in strade’s section as these fics (cis male) and cw for genital mutilation aftermath, this oc in law’s section (trans female). general cw for misgendering, but uh. kind of the nature of the beast, ennit?

ren 🦊

"Come on, stop crying! It's not that big a deal!"

"It's not a big deal?!" You shouted through your tears, trying to wipe them away with the heels of your hands, but more just kept coming, somehow more rapidly the more you tried to stop them. "Y-You ruined my binder, Ren! Do you have any idea how big a deal that is?!"

Ren looked almost annoyed, petulant like a teenager, huffing in irritation at your tears.

"Jesus, you're acting like I just burned down your house." He complained with a roll of his eyes. "It's just clothes. Stop being so damn sensitive."

"It's not dumb," You said with a big sniff, looking again at the shredded tatters of spandex and cotton that used to be your chest binder. When you owned so little anymore, anything that was taken away felt like an attack on your very personhood. At least, that’s what you were telling yourself.

Your tears can’t have been for any other reason. Surely.

"A-And I'm not being sensitive, either." You added indignantly. “Anyone would be upset by something of theirs being…ruined…”

"Whatever, you're still acting stupid over nothing." He said, his voice idling and drawling, as he paced closer towards you, before reaching down and pinching your chin between his thumb and index finger, to force you to look up at him. "Besides...it didn't even fit you anymore. None of your clothes do now." He gave you a sharp smile, mean and spiteful. "You've gained weight~"

"Well, obviously I've gained weight," You said with a grimace, jerking your face away from his touch and pushing away his hand. "You don't let me outside to run or let me go to the gym. And all the carbs you're feeding me, it's no wonder..."

"What? You complaining about how I've been feeding you, now? Could you get anymore ungrateful?" He said as he squatted down to your level, smirking at your grimace and his tail wagging behind him, evidently finding your pain amusing. "Besides...what good is a pretty little thing like you, being all skinny and muscled, anyway? You’d look wayyyy better all soft and sweet."

"Don't call me pretty," You said quite quickly, giving him another glare (trying to stop another batch of tears running down your face). "I-I'm not...w-whatever you're trying to do, stop it. It's not funny."

"Oh, don't be like that." He said with an amused smirk, crossing his arms over his chest and pressing them into his bent knees. "You're pretty sweet when you want to be, and cute as a button, and a bit shy; you’re the perfect girl, if you let yourself be."

He shifted onto his knees completely then, pressing himself closer to you as he straddled your thighs and sat in your lap, forcing you to look him in the eyes.

"And a complete emotional wreck, too, hah! Just like a real girl!"

"Ren, I mean it," You said, your tone warning in spite of the new batch of tears rolling down your flaming cheeks. "D-Don't call me a girl."

"Why not?" He tilted his head, giving you an almost innocent look, widening his eyes and blinking them coyly. "You're pretty, delicate, sensitive...all you need is a better haircut and you'd be the perfect girlfriend.” His innocent look split into a teasking smirk, showing off wet fangs. “So damn cute, even while crying."

"I'm not fucking-" You took in another gasp as he pressed his body up against yours, one of his hands sinking into the (overgrown) back of your hair, his own brushing against your wet cheek and neck as he scented you. "I'm not your girlfriend...nhh."

"I mean, yeah, obviously not yet. I don't date tomboys like you." He tittered cruelly as the hand in your hair pulled your head back again, forcing you to look up at him as he leaned in, close enough that you could feel his breath against your skin. "I like girls that actually know how to be girls, you know, instead of trying to pretend otherwise. Dresses, make-up, cute stuff like that. You're gonna have to get way less butch if you wanna be my girlfriend."

"I don't want to be your fucking girlfriend!" You shouted through a new batch of tears, trying to tighten your body again when he slid his knee between your thighs and pressed it against the front of your jogging bottoms.

"You will, trust me." He said with another cold smile. He then moved his free hand down to your hip (spilling over the waistband of your bottoms), the sharp points of his claws digging into your skin as he leaned in even closer to you, his lips hovering just inches from yours. "I mean, none of your actual clothes fit you anymore, with all that weight you gained...so, I'll have to get you new stuff that'll fit what I want from you, from now on...hm!" His smile turned more playful as he let out another titter. "Funny how stuff works that way, huh?"

"Nnff..." You bit your lip, feeling more tears hit your neck. "Why are you doing this to me..."

He reached up to wipe some of the tears from your chin, a cruel smile forming on his features as he did so.

"Because I want to. Becuase I can." He leaned in closer, lips gently tracing your tear-streaked cheeks. "Besides, I'm being nice, really. I'm taking really good care of you. I feed you, I make sure you don't go anywhere, I'm even offering to get you some new clothes...don't you like being with me?"

"I hate being with you," You said, eyes fluttering shut as his lips traced your jaw.

"That's not fair." He complained with a pout to his voice, his teeth grazing your skin as he left kisses down your neck (what wasn’t concealed by the collar, anyway). "You don't even give me a chance. We get along, don't we? We have fun...sometimes at least..."

He shifted on top of you, then, the knee between your legs pressing harder against you, forcing a small gasp out of you as the pressure made your core light up and twist, painfully.

His lips brushed against your chin, inching up so he could speak directly into your ear.

"You definitely have fun when I touch you.” He whispered. “Or do you think I don't notice how you react when I touch you like this?"

"I...nhhh," You bit your lip harder, thighs attempting to squeeze around his knee and stop him from making you feel good.

His words were certainly at odds with his actions, much like your discomfort was at hideous odds with your burgeoning arousal.

"W-What, you don't want to do this with a boy...?" You stammered between gasps. “What’s…s-so wrong with that?

"You still don't get it, do you?"

Ren pulled his head back to look you in the eyes, the grip on your hair relenting for a second so that he could grab the back of your collar, like he was holding the scruff of a kitten.

You cringed internally at your own demeaning comparison.

"You're not a boy.” He asserted, raising his brows. “You're not even a girl, not really. You're just mine." He pressed more pressure against your crotch and moved it, up and down, stimulating you even more, watching intently as you moaned, brokenly, and started to tremble underneath him.

"And I'll do whatever I want with you."

law 🥀

"You're so, so pretty, Law,"

You murmured lowly, pressing your lips to the back of Lawrence's neck as you carded your fingers through their long, blonde hair, still wet from the shower and newly sleek from the conditioner you had paid a little extra for than usual.

"Mm, your hair smells good, too.” You added with a gentle (if slightly teasing) smile. “It's nice when you take the time to look after it, huh?”

Lawrence shivered, their hands clenched tightly between their skinny thighs, and leaned back against you, a soft moan leaving their lips. The tips of their ears had turned a faint pink (they didn’t go red, they just went pink), and they looked back at you, a shy smile on their face.

"I...suppose so," They breathed out with a nervous little chuckle, trembling as your touch grazed over their shoulders.

"Do you not believe me?" You asked with a grin, moving closer to their naked body, lips trailing down the sharp, curved slope of their spine, down each notch of bone protruding through their skin. "Do you not believe you're pretty...or, mm,” You left kisses in your wake, holding them tight. “That it's nice to treat yourself nice?”

"I...I believe you," They breathed out with a shudder and another moan, leaning back against you, their body still trembling involuntarily as they talked. "I...believe that I'm pretty. Or, I mean, mm, if you say I am." They added in a coy mumble and another chuckle.

"Right,” You drawled with a huff and a shake of your head. “Well, if that's the case…” You added softly, moving you hands to the front of their naked chest and touching them, groping flesh that wasn't there (thought it was easy to pretend otherwise, especially when they were so eager about it too). “Do you believe me if I say how pretty of a girl you make?"

Lawrence inhaled sharply, another shudder running through their body as you touched them. They arched their back against your chest, pushing themself up and towards your touch.

Their eyes were closed, their breathing shaky and uneven, another soft moan leaving their lips.

"Y-yes...I believe you…” They murmured, thighs clenching together even tighter, stopping them from moving their hands and touching you, too..

"Good girl," You murmured, a slight smile pressed into Lawrence's skin as the pad of your thumb traced over their nipple, squeezing lightly. "So...would you prefer to wear one of my dresses tonight? Or just your skirt?”

They leaned into your touch with a sort of neediness that you adored, like a plant leaning towards the sun, like they craved every little bit of attention and affection you gave them.

They tried to speak, but only a strangled and shaky gasp left their lips, the words failing to form at all.

"....one of your dresses…” They barely managed to stammer.

You smiled even broader, leaving the bite of teeth at the nape of their neck, a little red mark left behind on their pale skin in the shape of some kind of demented kiss, before you stood up and paced towards their closet, which you had been gradually moving some of your clothes into over the last couple of weeks.

You were here so often, it made plenty of sense for them to be there.

From there, you produced a silky night dress, black and low cut, lace trimming the hem and low, plunging neckline. It was too short on you, so it would barely cover Lawrence at all.

You licked your lips.

Lawrence was just sitting on the bed, their long legs over the side of it, watching you, their sea-glass eyes following you to and from the closet, like a dog with a steak in front of it.

They never could stop looking at you. It was as if every motion you made captivated them.

It made you feel sexy and desired.

You probably hadn't felt that, at least not properly, until you met Lawrence.

"Stand up," You said, in the low, quasi demending tone of a teacher as you approached the bed again. “And step forward so I can get behind you.”

Lawrence immediately obeyed, a tight swallow making their Adam’s apple bob harshly underneath their pale throat, standing up from the bed and waiting, obediently, for your next instruction, their body shivering in anticipation.

"Good girl," You praised with another broad smile, before stepping closer to Lawrence and removing the dress from the hanger. "Because that's what you are, isn't it, baby?”

Another soft, involuntary shudder ran through Lawrence's body.

You hadn't realised just how much they thrived off of your praise and attention, how much they craved it, before you started doing this sort of thing with them. But now that you knew, you took every opportunity to make them feel good, just to see those shudders and shakes, and the desperate expression on their pretty face.

"Yes…” Law nodded hesitantly as you stepped closer to them, their voice a low whisper.

"Tell me what you are, Law," You instructed again, pacing behind them and guiding their arms above their head, your own fingers wrapped around their wrists.

“I’m, mm…” Lawrence lifted their arms, their hands trembling as your fingers traced over each stark vein (each gruesome scar) standing against their skin. "I'm a good girl…”

"Mm, there’s much more than that though, isn't there?" You asked, pressing another light kiss to their shoulder as you pulled the dress over their head and watched as the cool, black silk slid down, covered their lanky body. "You're a girl now, even if you weren't mine at all. Isn’t that right?”

"I'm...I'm a girl..." They repeated back to you, their arms held above their head (you hadn’t told them to put them down you, they were so obedient, such a good girl), their voice still a soft whisper, almost as if they were making a confession, just for you to hear.

"And you like being a girl," You reached around their body again, running your fingers over their chest again, feeling for the minute little bumps of their nipples pressed up against the tight fabric. "Even if you tried to argue otherwise, when we first me...it just took me seeing who you really were, who you were hiding…didn’t it, sweet girl?”

Another soft moan left Lawrence's trembling lips as your hands slid over their chest, caressing each sensitive spot to the peak of their arousal. They closed their eyes, their body trembling with each gentle touch as their arms folded down so their palms could support their head, heavy with arousal. They pushed themself back against you, as best they could, seeking you out, desperate to be close to you.

It felt good to be needed so intensely.

"I...I like being a girl..." They repeated again, a little quieter than before, another shaky gasp leaving their lips.

"Yeah? Does it turn you on to be a girl?" You asked, your tone sickeningly cloying as your hands, long fingers, bony knuckles, just like theirs, (you had so much in common, more than you’d have with anyone else, truly) reached into the breast cups of the dress and touched them, skin to skin. "Does it make you feel good?”

"Y-yes..." They gasped out as your hands roved over them, their breaths shaky and uneven and just a little bit needier, needing to be touched and played with. "Yes it does…”

"Say the words, Law," You murmured, pressing a kiss to their ear, your hips pressing against their buttocks, the bars of your cock cage rubbing against the silky nightdress.

Their breaths were getting shorter and shorter, and more shaky with each passing second, each touch of your hands and your lips against their neck, their shoulders, making them more and more desperate for you. Their heart was pounding fast under your palm, and their voice was a needy, quivering whisper as they obeyed.

"...It turns me on...to be a girl.”

"Very good, Law," You praised, squeezing their chest one more time before reaching down and sliding the front of the dress upwards, revealing the hard length of their cock, protruding almost comically from between their legs.

"You almost make me feel like I'm not forcing it out of you~”

strade 🔨

“Going to the chapel, and we’re, gonna get married~”

You took in a shuddering gasp as the stained corset was laced tight around your waist, the white silk sullied with dotted fingerprints of blood, like some perverted bastardisation of the sanctity marriage was supposed to stand for.

The dress, with its lace, crushed velvet, and big sleeves, was a relic of the eighties that reminded you of your mother (would you ever see her again? Could she bear to look at you now, if you did?). It was too big on you, hence the corset to cinch it in and the high heels to pull the skirts off the grubby, basement floor.

It smelled like a thrift store. It was a welcome change to the smell of blood.

“My, my, don't you look lovely?”

A voice cut through your dark thoughts, his voice (sadist, devil, monster), as he pulled the corset a notch tighter (staining the ribbons red as he did it), hooking his chin over the puffy shoulder of the wedding dress as you gasped and wheezed, trying to catch your breath when it felt like it was being choked out of you.

“You look lovely in white, liebchen,” He teased, a shit-eating smile audible in his voice, like it always was. "Mm, well, red and white. I'm sure we'll be able to get those stains out, though."

"The corset," You wheezed slightly, placing trembling palms against the silk and steel boning, as he tied the final knot at the small of your back to keep it in place. "T-Too tight..."

Strade chuckled in response, his breath hot on your ear, before he grabbed your hips and pulled you back against him, his arms encircling your cinched waist (making you wheeze all the more) as he leaned in, pressing a wet, open-mouthed kiss to your cheek.

"Are you telling me you'd prefer your wedding dress to be loose, my lovely bride?" He teased. "You'd prefer if it was ready to just...fall right off you?"

"That's not what I, nh," You groaned as his lips moved down to your neck, where the high neck of the dress was hiding your shock collar. "That's not what I meanttt..."

Strade continued to kiss and bite along the edge of your neck, marking your skin with purple and red lovebites, his eager hands roaming across your trembling body to explore every inch of you, every inch of the body that he had constructed for you.

"Are you already that eager to start the honeymoon phase, liebchen?" He teased, nipping your ear, his hips (and the stirrings of an erection) pressing against your backside through the layers of silk and tulle and lace. "My, my...such an impatient bride~"

"Mm..." You trembled even more, the cheap high heels barely enough to keep you upright, feeling the odd stirrings of deeply nonconsenting arousal settle in your core.

Since he had mutilated you behind reproach, arousal didn't feel the same, feeling, instead, painful and twisting, like you had an ache at the very centre of yourself.

You wondered if women felt that way all the time.

You wondered if they hated their arousal, as much as you did.

His lips lingered at the nape of your neck, his arms winding even tighter around your waist as he held you close, his lips travelling up your jaw and to your overgrown hairline, his breath hot as h whispered into your ear.

"Mmm, why are you shaking so much, sweetness?" He hummed lowly, his tongue tracing along the shell of your ear (making you shudder and cringe), as his hands wandered downwards, tracing along the edge of your corset, the edge of your dress. "Are you not excited for our wedding night? I hope you’re not getting cold feed, I’d be crushed!"

"It's not a wedding though, is it?" You said, squeezing your eyes shut as he gathered up the skirts of the dress, exposing cheap, costume store stockings that hung loosely around your scarred thighs. "A wedding is supposed to be sacred...special..."

“What, you don’t consider this sacred?” He asked, the callouses of his fingers tracing over the raised skin of your scars, making you hiss and shudder in his arms, inching closer and closer to the cheap lingerie set that covered the metal cup bolted to your ruined crotch, mangled and messy, best to be hidden away.

"There's nothing sacred about this," You breathed out. "This is...disgusting. I'm disgusting..."

“No no no,” He murmured with a slightly scolding tone, his lips on your pale cheek as he pressed his palm against the cup, stimulating nothing but reminding you what he did to you. “You’re not disgusting, liebchen,” He breathed against your temple, his own crotch warm and hard, only getting more excited. “Just unique. You’re perfect for me, my lovely bride.”

He grinned against your cheek, sharp, cannibal teeth ready to bite down and mangle you even more.

“My sweet little monster.”

Your breath hitched in your throat.

A monster. A twisted bride of Frankenstein, created out of some ruined lust and forced to live in a body that would never be yours again.

You would have cried for a thousand days, if you had any tears left inside of you, anything at all but disgust and shame for your mangled body.

You let out a dry sob, looking down at the cement floor, hugging yourself tight.

“No need to be so upset,” He murmured into your skin, his hands reaching back to gather the skirts of the dress up, slowly revealing your buttocks.”I’m here, I’m right here…”

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" You suddenly screamed like a dying animal, yanking yourself away from his arms in a rare moment of hysterical defiance, almost stumbling in your high heels as you threw yourself across the basement, just to get away from him. “DON’T EVER TOUCH ME AGAIN!”

“Woah!”

Strade stumbled backward at the force of your sudden movement, his hands held up in surprise and a look of shock on his face.

"D-Don't...touch me..." You said again, swallowing down your rage as you looked down at yourself, at the stained lace, the velvet, the ill-fitting dress forced to fit your gangly body. "God," You moaned, reaching up and covering your face with your hands, eyes suddenly full of tears that you thought you’d never shed again. "Oh god, oh god...I can’t do this…I can’t, I won’t…"

"Now, now," Strade's voice was gentle albeit stern, as he slowly took a step closer to you, his hands still raised like he was approaching a feral cat. "Calm down. I know you're frightened. You've been through a lot...I'm not so far removed that I don't understand that."

You peered at him through your trembling fingers, not moving away when he took your shoulders in hand, his touch characteristically warm and worryingly comforting.

"It's okay," He murmured, pulling you against his chest, his broad, masculine frame enclosing you, small and almost feminine in contrast, in his embrace, wrapping his large arms around your slender, yet broken form. "You're allowed to be scared. You're allowed to be lost...I'm here. It's okay. You're safe."

You knew you were anything but safe. But it made you feel better, just to hear it.

"Please don't hurt me," You breathed out, pressing your face against his chest. "Please...I'll take all of this, I will...j-just don't hurt me again…”

"Shhh, shhh," His hand gently stroked through your unwashed hair as he held you, rocking you slowly in his arms, like he was comforting a real wife. "You're being so good, liebchen, so good. I won't hurt you, I promise. I'm not going to hurt you.” His palm cupped the back of your skull, keeping you pinned against his body. “You're my good girl, my beautiful bride. That's all I need you to be. Good. Obedient. And mine."

Your expression twisted a little, the shameful surge of arousal shooting through you again.

Had he ruined you, both body and mind?

Or had you always been like this, somewhere, deep down?

You didn’t want to think about that, if you could help it.

"Okay...okay. I’ll��be good."

#lawrence oleander #lawrence btd #lawrence x mc #lawrence x reader #ren hana #ren btd #ren x mc #ren x reader #strade btd #strade x mc #strade x reader #kinktober 2024 #echo #one of the faves #shrug

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crazy-pages · 1 year ago

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Blue Eyed Samurai and Queer Gender

There's a reason so many trans people keep reading trans identity into Mizu.

Because even if she's cis, her gender is still queer.

Lemme back up for a second. Queer identity is deeply intertwined with experiencing sex and gender in ways which are fundamentally non-normative and non-conformative for the societies we live in. It is about being "other" to what society's default is. There are reasons that queer liberation movements have historically often allied with kink communities, with polyamorous circles, and with feminist movements. There's overlap there, in being outside a tightly constrained norm and demanding equality and recognition. And this also means that what queer is, is defined in part by the society it stands in opposition to.

Because for contrast there have been societies, historically, which have been fully accepting of trans people or even had specific social norms and customs around nonbinary gender. The colonizing Spaniards found and recorded interactions (typically violent, sadly) with trans people in what's now Mexico who lived, married, and were recognized in their societies without regard for their genitals. There are entire fields of study around various historical recognition of nonbinary identities. None of these people existed in opposition to the societies they lived in. Heck if we look at sexuality, the ancient Greeks would certainly not have seen men having sex with men as queer (though they would have judged and demeaned the bottom), but some of them certainly pathologized women who had sex with women. In such a society bisexual men would not be queer, while bisexual women would be.

Queer is contextual. Someone who lives in a fully accepting society as a trans person, who never has contact with a culture where that acceptance isn't the norm? I'm not sure I would call them queer. At the very least, there's a definition of queer as the embrace of one's sexual and/or gender non-normativity which such a person might very well not opt into. That person might not feel queer. We might not share that emotional experience.

And where this comes back to Blue Eyed Samurai is that it's possible to be cis and to be marked unavoidably and unalterably queer by one's society. A cis woman living in the US today who feels absolutely cis but cannot, for whatever reason, stand wearing dresses and must wear pants? Might experience some gender non-conforming experiences, but not necessarily be queer. That same woman in 1890s US? Her gender expression would be outright illegal as a form of crossdressing. She would be seen with the same lens as a trans man and their experiences of gender would both be queer, despite one being cis and one being trans. If such a woman, despite being cis and straight and allosexual and alloromantic and all the rest, told me she felt queer? It would not surprise me in the least.

So if you define queer as any kind of experience or internal feeling, as a state of othered existence rather than a specific set of prescriptive definitional boxes that fit our specific societal norms and practices? Mizu is queer. Mizu might or might not be queer if you transplanted her into the 2020s US where I live. But to define her by how she would fit in our society's boxes is fundamentally missing the point of both the queer experience and the story of Blue Eyed Samurai. (And she might not be cis here, he might be a trans man, or they might be nonbinary. It's hard to say ... and this is why queer history scholars step carefully around modern definitions, by the by.)

What we can say is that who Mizu is, in the context of Edo period Japan, is queer. Whether Mizu is genderfluid, or a trans man, or a cis woman who hates having to be undercover, or a cis woman who thrives being undercover, or a cis woman performing drag, or a trans man who thinks of himself as a woman in drag because he lacks context for being transgender? It's all queer gender. There is no framing in which Mizu wouldn't relate to the experience of queer gender.

Mizu doesn't get to experience gender in a normative way. That's both because of who she is at her core, and something that's defined by society without her consent. She is queer, innately born so and structurally made so at the same time, and that's not a contradiction.

#blue eyed samurai #blue eyed samurai spoilers #transgender #terfs can fuck right off #cis or trans #there's a reason Mizu's experience resonates with trans people #cus it's queer #blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai spoilers #queer

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flaetsbnortoriginals · 1 year ago

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I've just had a dream that was so steeped in Magic: The Gathering lore that I need to post it to tumblr on the off-chance that people who know enough to understand it will be able to read it, because if I tell it to the people I usually tell my dreams to they won't understand a dang thing. Sorry @one-time-i-dreamt

So. The dream was in Ravnica, and was about this planeswalker lady. She was white, with long straight blonde hair, and a fancy blue dress. I have the feeling that I was dreaming I was her before my dream remembered I'm a boring cis man without any amazing powers so as far as I can recall I'm just following her, like the main character of a story. I'm not sure I should call her my OC since she was created without any prompting of my conscious mind but none of the characters in the dream have names so I'll call her that.

OC was walking down a boulevard in Ravnica with this dude. They were pretending to be a couple, but the dude was actually a Dimir spy she had bested and was kind of her prisoner. Dimir guy wasn't very happy about it but wasn't too angry either, he saw his "custodianship" as a work thing and kind of respected OC, so they were chill.

OC saw a woman who she realized wasn't from this plane, although she was pretending to be a local. She challenged Dimir guy to point out what made them realize this. Now I expected this to go like a Sherlock sequence, with each one pointing out a detail in the woman's outfit or some very precise behaviour. Instead, OC starts by pointing out that this woman is wearing

A FRIGGING BRIGHT BLUE SOCCER JERSEY

and not only are soccer jerseys not usual clothes in Ravnica, (at least not until Hooligans at Rakdos Stadium is released), but it also has a giant number on it (77 if you're curious), except that Ravnica uses a different writing system, so any planeswalker would immediately clock her as an outsider. (I think that it's only sort of implied that each plane uses a different writing system, but in the dream that was settled truth.)

OC is so apalled at how poorly this woman - who needs a name, so I'll call her BadKellan for reasons that will soon become apparent - is at hiding herself, she decides to have a word with her. BadKellan realizes she's being followed and hoofs it - but OC and Dimir guy immediately use their Dimir crap to become invisible. BadKellan thinks he's shaken them off, but she's quite rattled, so she goes to her safehouse, which happens to be just around the corner. OC and Dimir sneak in behind her, then make themselves visible.

Now I should tell you that Dimir Guy does nothing else in this story. I was going to say that he's just Ken, he's just there, but it's actually worse - his presence makes the story make no sense, since OC is about to reveal some secrets to some random lady. But the dream didn't forget him: I vividly recall that he was still around all throughout this part of the dream, even though he does nothing else.

So. OC reveals herself and tells BadKellan that what she's doing is very dangerous. She tells her about the Dimir (the guild, not the random guy) and says that if they see her poorly sneaking around and think she's going to be trouble, or even can't figure out what her deal is, they're just going to kill her. Which means it's incredibly dangerous for her to go around like that.

BadKellan reveals a few things about herself. She's from Earth - yes, our real world. She's not a planeswalker. She was brought to Ravnica against her will and told to blend in and pretend to be a local. She doesn't feel comfortable revealing who told her to do that.

OC decides to give BadKellan a few pointers on how to lay low on Ravnica. She explains that she would dress mostly in gray, since colours are strongly associated with the guilds and she should stay away from them to stop making waves. She asks her to change her outift and she'll say if it draws attention.

BadKellan changes clothes. She's now dressed entirely in gray, which is good, except that her shirt

HAS A LARGE, GLITTERING PRINT ACROSS THE FRONT READING

girl

IT'S THE EXACT SAME THING AS BEFORE. IT'S A LARGE PRINT USING OFF-PLANE SCRIPT. It's not as large as the jersey number, sure, but I'd like to remind you that it's glittering!

OC is apparently as taken aback by this as I am, because she turns her into a squirrel.

In fact, she specifically turns her into the squirrel from Bloomburrow key art.

OC's logic is that BadKellan is so bad at blending in that this is the only way she can be safe. OC intends to release "squirrel girl" in a park while she tries to look into exactly whose plans she just ruined and how bad of an idea it was.

There was more to this dream, but my memories are fuzzy and it's (even more) uninteresting. I think it involves the Boros having a special currency that they gain when they help people but the Dimir also use it in a kind of ironic way? I don't remember.

#magic the gathering #ravnica #dimir #dream #yeah no idea but I need to share

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dragonstailbutch · 7 months ago

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Hey sorry i am trying to like. find examples of what you mean when you talk about mra stuff and (trans)misogyny in forcemasc content and tumblr search has betrayed me once again, can you explain?

(sorry I normally wouldn't ask but I wanna make sure I'm not perpetuating anything!! Also fucking tumblr search!!! it is ridiculous!)

so ive been sitting on this ask for months since ive got it. i want to do it justice and try to take it at face value that its being honest in asking.

The thing is, theres this trend and a weird amount of effort to be like force femme, to be forceful and like its something to fearful of and give in to. But we cant do that, cause all that does is reinforce the idea that being a man is a toxic thing. I saw this post the other day where a transman talked about like, the whole "raised as a weapon" thing, the violence and horror of being a man and raised that way versus how they felt growng into it as a transman. How they wanted to reclaim that phrase or something? i could be misremembering.

But that was never the intent of forcemasc. It wasnt actually about being a dude, literally *forcing* someone who was unwilling into masculinity, none of the posts that i made that started the community (and yes i, a transfem butch woman, started and made this community and some of yall need to get over yourselves) were ever about that, it was intended to be a soft mimic or even a call to forcefemme.

i was all about making it soft and tender for a reason, cause if i didnt i was only reinforcing the toxic masculinity narrative, "men fighting in the mud" "men are dominant and cool" " to be a man is to be forced into masculinity and to be disgusted with the feminine" or whatever. When masculinity isnt about just men, and being butch isnt just being masculine. masculinity should also be sensitivity, not domination. i wanted it to be better, show a better side of what masculinity could be, what being butch is.

Ive spoken before a bit too, about the tags people used and added to forcemasc, and really maybe i was wrong in ever naming it forcemasc. people used and still use tags like autoandrophilia, autoandrophile, androphile, autogynephilia, androphilia, and autogynephile. Ive seen so many people with urls and tags and posts calling themselves transandrobros, literally calling themselves MRAs, as if that was something to be proud of, as if they dont understand that they arent fighting for their and our rights, they're fighting for cis-mens rights by using those names and terms, not transmascs/transmens rights. I can understand ignorance, but weve talked about how the words you use have history, especially those like the tags i mentioned and androphilia and androphobia and others, all of them have roots in deeeeeeeply misogynistic and transphobic people and history.

Literally all of these are awful and are phrases that arent and wont be reclaimed because theyre history is one of pain and hurting trans people, one of coercive 'help', literal forced detransitioning and reinforcement of MRA and terf narrative that men are both good and the worst creature alive and that to be a woman is to be disgusting and the purest thing all at once. That to be a transwoman is sick and we shouldnt be trusted.

Im trying to be very kind, not scream and rage, not because i dont desperately want to, but because if i do, as a butch transwoman, ESPECIALLY cause i claim being butch, people wont listen to me no matter how much of what i say is meaningful. one of the reasons why im doing this NO, instead of in anothr day or two, is that im coming to terms with the fact that the situation will just get qorse, not better without words.

Part of why im still sane is that ive gotten a couple asks here and there about how my posts and creation of the community has helped them and its so wonderful to see that, genuinely so amazing to see people recontextualize and love themselves. its wonderful and im so fucking happy about it.

i personally made this space so i could love myself, who i am as a trans person and my body, and i knew that other people needed and wanted that for themselves too and i wanted to help, share this love with more people. That to be hairy and chubby and masculine and butch was a nice thing. But to me it feels like it was coerced into being a thing for Men. A thing no longer for me or people like me who share the butch culture and name to no longer enjoy cause people unfamiliar with kink and tran history have decided that masculinity and butchness are the exact same thing. Id say people should go be a bear, but you wont learn their culture either and thats cruel and insulting to bears.

We deserve better You deserve better. Stop falling for the lies and hate. We beg you

#forcemasc #the dragon replies #the dragon speaks #the dragon roars #force masculinization #force masc #force masc founder #forcemasc founder #ask me stuff #ask me things #transmisogny//#im tired #ill probably make a new tag to post new content under #ill also turn off anons #gonna keep asks in general on tho

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crimeronan · 3 months ago

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most of the time i don't subscribe to the "i don't have any control over my OCs, they just do whatever they want in my brain" theory, because i DO have quite a lot of control over my OCs, i make a lot of conscious thematic choices about who they are and what they look like and what they prioritize.

however.

the one thing that has been Haunting Me for Months, which i did Not intend, was when i was experimenting on picrew with what "their best / most ideal selves" would look like. in a world where everyone was happy and healthy and had no barriers or hangups about living the exact life that would suit them best.

devin, who in the canon is a cranky, chronically exhausted genderqueer person who's too miserable to shave or take care of themself, had clearly been living a mostly-binary life as a trans woman who'd been on E for years.

and nova, who in the canon is a hyper-feminine cis woman with frightening taste in men, was a super butch transmasc dyke with top surgery scars.

devin wasn't That surprising. but nova FLOORED me.

i'm 100% sure that somewhere out there is a universe where devin and nova are in a happy, healthy T4T relationship. and i'm sure they also have two or three biological kids together because they're both the kind of people who would enjoy having a family, if they were their best selves.

meanwhile in their canon, nova is a horror villain, devin is a miserable shell, and their relationship is so sick/awful that it's hard for me to write out the details here. bc of the number of trigger warnings i'd need to slap on. soulmates as horror, soulmates as ruin, soulmates as violation, etc.

the specter of happy T4T devin/nova has been haunting me every time i write their interactions. i'm like wow. it is Amazing how much none of this had to happen to either of you.

#original fiction #devin and nova #devin #nova #that's horror baybey!!#nova loves to be exactly what is expected of her. and if it feels bad no it doesn't :)#devin loves to be too tired to care. which exacerbates the misery. which exacerbates the tiredness....#anyway. thinking about them.

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lufyuu · 6 months ago

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(I accidentally deleted the ask last time so bare w me, I'm so sorry anon😓 , it was about how my ocs would react to a trans reader)

Well I'll start with that none of my ocs will treat you differently regardless of the fact you're cis or not! Maybe they have different thoughts of you though

➤Eun Hyunwoo

He probably didn't know you were trans before working with you. He just thought you're a very pretty man<3 I mean, there are feminine looking men in the industry too so it doesn't matter if you're feminine/masculine presenting! He'd be extra careful during sex though, he's not ready to be a father and with your job...it's impossible for you to be pregnant whilst working at the same time. He's also always going to be there for you when the gender dysphoria hits, he doesn't understand it as he himself has never felt it but he'll do anything in his power to make you feel better. He often affirms your gender by calling you all sorts of things. "My pretty boy" is what he loves to say the most. He also loves to refer to you as his boyfriend a lot. And I mean a lot. He's partially flexing the fact that he's dating you too.

➤River Sterling

Mans didn't pay much attention to you before your first meeting, but he had heard about the rumors of you being afab. He brushed it off since it's really none of his business. When anyone talks shit about you just for being trans, he's ready to give them the "shonen background character treatment" if you know what I mean lmao. He's always going to use protection during sex! You're both in your early 20s! No way he's going to be a dad! Loves the idea of it though. He probably once tried to turn you into a cis man, not because he wants you to be one, but it was when you were having major gender dysphoria. He thought he'd be a good boyfriend and give you a dick and balls. Unfortunately, even the powers of a protagonist have their limits. His efforts were still appreciated, though! Loves stroking your hair while calling you "the loveliest boy he's ever met". He's an ass at times but can be sweet when needed!

➤Liu Zihao

Couldn't care less that you're trans. He has a duty to uphold, and that is to punish you for your wrongdoings. Though he does think it's convenient since getting you pregnant would be easier now. Who could blame him for wanting to breed you full of his cum? He's been waiting for you for so long it's only right for him to take what he wants now. He isn't the type of guy to babytrap you though. Gender dysphoria? Now that, you have to explain to him. Despite being in a powerful man both in the political stand and in general, he's only learned about the laws. He doesn't really understand humans. When he does get it though, expect him to be very supportive. Maybe overly supportive. Probably empathizes the word "boy" a lot when referring to you. Not that there's a lot of people he can talk about you to. He just doesn't care what you have under your pants.

➤Han Minho

I'm not sure how this one would work as the way reader met Minho was through military training where everyone was amab but let's say they do meet. Again, doesn't care much. Though he's ready to be a father, it all depends on you whether you want to start a family with him or not. He'd rather your parents know about the situation first before anything that far happens. He doesnt strike as a guy who knows that much about gender dysphoria. Probably awkwardly caressing your back as he tries to again, awkwardly comfort you. "You're a boy..I don't know what's the problem..?", he's trying his best.

#xin's han minho ☆#xin's eun hyunwoo ☆#xin's river sterling ☆#xin's liu zihao ☆#xin's drabbles #male reader #oc x male reader #afab reader #transmale reader

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libraford · 1 year ago

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Often, I think about how kids up to a certain point in their lives dont really look like any specific gender.

There are a few elementary school kids I've seen that I know are trans ONLY because I photographed them the year previous under a different name. This is the only reason I know this.

So when parents talk about their kids saying 'she looks like a boy' or 'he looks like a girl' I have to say I'm a bit flummoxed because when you process the photos of literally thousands of kids every week, the traits dont seem so terribly set in stone until certain stages of development and even then it's not exactly consistent even up into high school.

There are some adults, even, for whom I am surprised (we have to ask teachers for their salutation, we do have Mx and Dr for those that request.) Because genetics are complicated and it's none of my business, really, past the requirements of my job.

And I'm thinking about this because it's late, I've had caffeine, and I'm going to a queer event tomorrow. But I know that cis people are hurt by anti-trans rhetoric. The more people assume that they can 'clock' us, the more I think they will get it wrong. Cis women with facial hair and big shoulders, cis men with fatty pectorals and hips.

I think what I'm saying is that anti-trans violence isn't exclusive to trans people. If every trans person suddenly wholly committed to staying in the closet forever, there will still be anti-trans violence because the people who want rid of us will want anything like us gone as well.

When people are llike 'yeah well at least I know what a woman looks like' I'm like... do you?

Not sure where I was going with this. I'm procrastinating sleep. But uuuuuhhhh... humans are a spectrum of genetic traits not entirely determined by sex and up until like 13 years old most humans could be confused for the 'opposite gender' by wearing a cheap wig.

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mandiemegatron · 9 months ago

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【 ᵁⁿᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵀʰᵉ ᴴᵘʳᵗ 】

Black Leg Sanji x cis!fem Straw Hat Reader

Rated: T for mental health discussions. Comfort, confessions, Sanji being open about his depression, we love healing Sanji in this household.

Words ; 3, 358

Trade with @shanalikeanna !! I love you forever, my lovely shana, I hope you enjoy this!!!!!! 💖💖💖

Once again, none of this would be possible without my beta and bestie, @moss-woods !! Thank you from the bottom of my heart, my love!!! 💖💖💋💋

ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵐʸ ʷᵒʳᵏ, ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ʳᵉᵇˡᵒᵍ ˢᵒ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ᶜᵃⁿ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ⁱᵗ, ᵗᵒᵒ!! ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ, ᵐʸ ˡᵒᵛᵉˡʸ ˡⁱˡ ᵗᵃⁿᵍᵉʳⁱⁿᵉˢ!💖💖

The first night after escaping Totto Land, everyone was on edge.

The second, everyone did their best to try and rest, but most of the Straw Hats still tossed and turned (sans Zoro, that man can and has slept through a tornado).

The third night, you'd finally decided around 3 am to get up, your thoughts still raging through your mind and keeping the sandman from blessing you with sweet, sweet sleep.

Throwing on a simple, black hoodie and dark red sweatpants, you slipped into some shoes and quietly dipped out of the women's quarters and made it upstairs to the main deck without an issue.

To your surprise, you could smell Sanji smoking; taking a look around and realizing he was up top with Nami's tangerine groves. You climbed up and gave a small wave, not wanting to startle him.

“Can't sleep either?” You ask gently, causing Sanji to snap out of his thoughts and grin up at you, going to stand but you stopped him, instead moving closer and sitting in the plush grass with him. You reached up and plucked a tangerine, giving Sanji a grin when he gently took it from you with no words said.

“Thank you,” You begin, only to stop as you notice the dark circles under his eyes. “Sanji… have you gotten any sleep?”

The blonde stops for a moment, eyes still staring at the fruit in his hands and it's seconds later when he starts moving again, silently peeling away. After it's done, he holds the slices out to you and you take half of them, gently folding his fingers over the ones left over and pushing his hand back to him.

“Don't worry, it's our secret,” you joked, giving him a sneaky grin and a small chuckle before popping a slice in your mouth.

There was a comfortable silence between you both as you ate. The moon was bright in the sky, lighting up the grove beautifully and basking you both in its light. After you were done, you took the chance to carefully ask Sanji,

“Are… are you doing okay, Sanji?”

This time, he did look at you, his usually bright eyes dull and glazed as he seemingly stared through you. “Of course,” His usual cheery voice came through, but you could feel the hurt behind his tone.

You softly reached out and grasped one of his hands, gently holding it in both of yours as you mentioned in a lightly joking tone,

“You're really bad at lying to me.”

For a long second, Sanji stared, unable to enunciate anything, though his mouth twitched a few times. He then took a long drag and let it drift out, making sure to blow it up away from you.

“Sanji… you can talk to me. I can't even imagine what you went through-”

His hand tightened around your fingers and you froze, worry for him running through your entire body. He then took a shaky breath and finally murmured out tiredly,

“I don't want to talk about it.”

You frowned sadly, holding his hand over your heart as you replied,

“You don't have to talk about anything you don't want to. I just want you to know I'm here for you, always.”

Sanji sniffles softly as his gaze wanders to the grass, the aching in his heart getting harder to ignore.

“It doesn't matter-”

You squeeze his hand and comment,

“It absolutely matters Sanji, it matters to me and it matters to everyone on this crew. We're your family, we love you, Sanji.”

Nothing but another sigh came from the chef, the fight going on inside his head clearly too loud for you to get anything through to him. You could almost read the expression on his face - you don't get it, he's thinking, his gaze burning through the grassy patch.

You let his hand move back into his lap, his other hand reaching over to flick ashes off his cigarette.

“If you don't want to talk, that's okay. Do you mind listening instead, then?”

Your voice was small, so soft that it took Sanji a moment to process the words. His gaze flickered back up to you, hazy wariness hidden behind them as he nodded slightly.

You took a moment, gathering your thoughts to form into words as you gently began,

“I believe everything that happens to us happens for a reason. The good things happen to remind us that life is worth living, worth experiencing. The bad shit happens to show us how to grow, how to fight back, and to find that inner strength that you didn't even know was there.”

You shifted slightly, sitting up a bit straighter as you continued,

“I don't know what happened with you after you left. We were terrified, I was terrified. What if I never saw you again? What if I never got to tell you how amazing you were?”

Sanji also sat up more, his curled brow shifting down as he stared silently.

“Doing hard things is never easy, but having support from the people that love you makes all the difference. Even if that hard thing is just trying to survive.”

You shrug slightly, your fingers fiddling with themselves in your lap as you added,

“I heard… about Judge.”

Sanji freezes at your words, like ice cold snow had been dropped down onto him. His face twitches, the expression slightly irritated before it falls back into the previous nearly blank one.

“Sanji, have you heard the phrase, “blood is thicker than water?” Are you aware that phrase is wrong?”

Sanji lights a fresh cigarette with a slight shrug of his own, softly murmuring, “Oh.”

“The actual phrase is, “the blood of the covenant is thicker than water of the womb.”, meaning, the family you create is stronger than the family you were born into.”

You reached up and plucked another tangerine, peeling it yourself as Sanji sits, stunned and watching you with a wide, blue eye.

“I don't think I've ever met a single person with great parents. Hell, even my dad was a piece of shit too! But I can tell you, with absolute confidence, that you have a great father.”

The chef gave a single, sharp barking laugh, going to reply with a snarking bite when you cut him off with your own, sharp continuance,

“Have you forgotten so easily who you are, Sanji?”

He leans back a bit in hurt, tears welling up in his eyes as you add genuinely,

“You are Black Leg Sanji, named after your father, Red Leg Zeff. You are chef to the Straw Hat Pirates and don't you ever forget that your real father would be damn proud of how far you've come.”

You popped a few slices of tangerine into your mouth as you let your words stew, watching the tears stream down Sanji's face. You finished off the fruit and hummed softly, looking up at the sky as you spoke again.

“I think you should call him.”

You looked back to him and reached over, patting him on the shoulder a few times before getting up and brushing any dirt or grass from your butt. You threw Sanji a bright grin, your face illuminated by the moon as you softly commanded,

“Go get some sleep, Sanji. Your family will still be here in the morning.”

You turned and walked away before he could say anything, only able to watch you quietly walk back down towards the main deck door.

In the silence of the small grove, Sanji's heart beat so loud he swore the whole ship could hear it. His fingers ached, his eyes burned and his throat felt tight, like someone had welded his flesh inside together.

He knew you were right, the logic and love in your words washing over him like a warm blanket the more he thought over them.

So why couldn't he get up?

He flopped back into the grass, both eyes exposed to the shine of the moon as he puffed on his smoke. He took a last drag and put it out in the grass, intent on cleaning up after himself before he moved again. His eyes slipped shut for just a moment, his exhaustion catching up to him as his fight or flight instinct finally released its grip on him.

In seconds, Black Leg Sanji had passed out, a small smile on his lips with his body lovingly covered by the shadows from the tangerine trees.

Sanji awoke the next morning in his hammock, confusion running through him as he ran a tired hand through his hair. He groans and sits up, hopping out of his bed and slowly gets dressed, having to stop a few times as the ship rocks and he nearly trips.

Once he's dressed and more awake, he makes his way to the kitchen as usual and is surprised to find the moss head sitting at the table with a drink in his hand as you wash up dishes. It's clear that food had been made, and he goes to question you when Zoro pipes up,

“Sleep beauty finally wakes! How's it goin’, princess?” His tone is snarky and teasing but there's genuine curiosity behind the words.

Sanji only aims a kick at his head, which is blocked as usual. He huffs and straightens up his tie, giving Zoro the middle finger before sliding up behind you, completely ignoring the now furious swordsman.

“Oi! Fuck you, curlybrow!”

You're shaking your head with a roll of your eyes as Sanji asks you sweetly,

“You didn't have to do all this, mon ange! You could have woken me up-”

You looked up at him with a small grin as you commented,

“You were out like a light, Sanji. Besides, I've been watching you cook for ages, I feel like I picked up just enough to satisfy everyone.”

Sanji's cheeks burn, little hearts dancing around his head at your words. You couldn't help but breathe a soft sigh of relief, glad he was slowly returning to the man he was.

“Oh mon amour! You are the most precious thing in my life!”

Zoro gives a loud, over-exaggerated gag at that, pulling laughter from you as you finish placing the last dish into the drying rack. Sanji turns his attention back to Zoro with a snarking reply of,

“At least a woman wants to spend time with me! Your stink keeps everyone at a 5 mile radius away from you.” He proves his point by placing his hands on your hips and standing a little closer to hold you to him as he makes a face at Zoro who makes one back.

“Oh yeah? She doesn't look so comfortable from where I'm standing!”

You groan and roll your eyes again, pulling away from Sanji with burning cheeks as you make your way out of the kitchen.

“You guys can fight without me being in the middle!”

Zoro stops you before you can leave, gently grasping your wrist and pulling you to him. You give a soft “Oof!” as your body collides into Zoros, your hand pressing onto his chest to stabilize yourself.

“Oi! Shitty Swordsman! Get your grubby little hands off Y/N!”

Zoro just laughs, slinging a heavy arm around your shoulders and keeping you to him as he barks back,

“You're just mad that she doesn't hate me, ugly dandelion head!”

You pinch Zoro's nipple and he jumps, letting go of you as he shields his wounded pride and offended body part behind burning cheeks.

“The hell was that for?!”

Sanji can't help but burst out laughing, your own laughter joining in as you finally make your way out of the kitchen.

“Paybacks a bitch, Zo!”

With you gone, the two men glared and growled at each other, Sanji huffing smoke at the swordsman as Zoro puffs his chest out a bit, glaring Sanji down.

“Quit hittin” on her, you curlybrowed moron!”

“You quit it! She doesn't like stupid, ugly, unwashed assholes!”

Their foreheads smacked against each other as they growled and barked at each other, only finally breaking away as they heard you call from down the hallway,

“Sanji? Can I get your help with something?”

Sanji flashes Zoro a smug grin, puffing smoke in his face as he calls back,

“Of course I can, my darling Y/N-chaaan!”

Zoro rolls his eye as he watched the shitty love cook literally twirl and dance out the kitchen door, taking the advantage of Sanji being gone to raid the ‘secret’ cupboard that held all the good sake.

Finding an unopened bottle, Zoro uncorks it with a heavy sigh before heading back up to the crows nest.

Sanji, on the other hand, finds himself in a predicament as he searches the halls for you, confusion set on his face as he opens a few doors.

“Y/N? Where'd you go?”

He almost shrieks as a hand pulls him back, tugging him into a room and slamming the door shut. He turns and flares his nose slightly, staring you down as he presses a hand over his chest.

“Y/N! You almost gave me a heart attack,” he half-jokes, patting his chest lightly a few times as you grin up at him.

“I gotta keep you on your toes,” you replied lightly, giving him a quick wink before tugging him over to your bed. You immediately sat down and patted the space beside you, an almost expectant look on your face as you asked,

“You got some time to sit with me?”

Sanji takes in your expression and slowly sits, but not before putting out his cigarette in the small ashtray on your bedside table. His heart always thumped a few extra fast beats at your thoughtfulness.

He makes himself comfortable before he nervously asks,

“So? What did you need help with?”

Your face blossoms into bright red hues as you look down to your lap, your fingers fiddling with themselves anxiously as you slowly got out,

“I um, I just, um,” you stumble over your words, unsure of how to get them out. It takes a second, but you finally inhale before quickly spilling out in one, quick breath,

“Ireallylikeyouandidon’tknowifyoulikemetoo.”

Sanji blinks a few times, his mind trying to decipher the words that bubbled out of you, only for his head to tilt to the side as he gives a confused,

“Uh… what?”

Your cheeks darken, and you shove your face into shaking hands, trying to steady your racing heart as you groan into your palms.

You freeze as two warm hands grip lightly around your wrists, pulling your hands from your face only to find Sanji's own visage just centimeters from your own.

There's a sparkle in his uncovered eye and a wide grin on his face as he breathes out,

“You like me?”

You stiffen as your expression sinks nervously, only able to give him a soft,

“... Yeah….”

There's a single moment between you before your back is pressed onto the bed and Sanji is on top of you, his hands on either side of your head with one leg in between yours.

Shivers run over your body in anticipation, your eyes staring up into both of his as his hair dangles over you, showing every part of his beautiful face. You gently reach up and cup one of his cheeks in your palm, watching with a soaring heart as his eyes fall shut and he presses further into your palm.

“For so long…” He started, his voice just above a whisper. “I'd look at you and hope to God you could hear my thoughts racing, that you could hear how hard my heart beat for you…”

You felt your heart swell in adoration for him at his admittance, your own eyes slipping shut as he leans forward a bit to press his forehead against yours.

“For so long, all I wanted was for you to want me… the way I wanted you.”

The tip of his nose brushes against yours in a loving motion, his lips so close you could feel his breath dancing across your own.

“You don't even know how much you've healed me. My angel, my darling,” His voice cracks as he squeezes his eyes shut, fighting back tears as he pours his heart out to you. You sniffle softly, tears of your own prickling at your eyes as you open them and listen to him continue.

“There isn't a day that goes by that I just… I don't feel good enough. For you, for this crew… but the last couple days really showed me how cherished I am.”

Pulling back to stare down at you with teary eyes, Sanji somehow gets out,

“I will never take your love for granted, Y/N. I love you and I don't care if you don't feel the same-”

You cut him off with a kiss, leaning your head up just enough to capture his lips, effectively silencing him.

When you pull back, his eyes are wide, tears streaming down his face as you softly comment,

“Sanji, I love you, and I have for a long time. I thought I was going to lose you to Pudding, and that I'd never see you again,” your tears flooded down the sides of your eyes as you looked up at him. “I thought I'd never get the chance to tell you how much you meant to me.”

Sanji leans down and hugs you tightly, hiding his face in the side of your neck as he sobs silently. You cling to him, rubbing your fingers over his back and through his soft hair, murmuring loving words to him as he lets all his emotions out.

It takes a long while for Sanji to finally settle, his eyes red and achy when he finally pulls back to stare down at you. You wiped at his eyes gently as you confidently reminded him,

“Black Leg Sanji, I love you, now and forever. Do not ever forget the family you have here.”

A wide grin breaks out over his face as he leans down to kiss you, your lips melding with his as if they were made for him; like two souls made of the same star dust, colliding with each other and creating a blinding light for the world to see.

You pull away after a few moments, gently holding his face again as you murmur almost teasingly,

“I have a present for you.”

Sanji's expression makes him look like a child in a candy store with no beri limit, pulling away from you to sit back on his butt as he gushes,

“For me?! You didn't have to do that, my angel dearest,”

You cut him off with a lazy wave of your hand, sitting up and reaching into the top drawer of your desk and pulling out your small Den Den Mushi.

Sanji gives you a puzzled look as you dial in a number and hand the Den Den to him, leaning back on your headboard as it begins to ring.

Peru-peru-peru… peru-peru-peru…

Sanji almost drops your Den Den as an all too familiar voice barks out on the other end.

“This is The Baratie, Zeff speaking.”

Sanji feels like he's been punched in the chest, looking to you with watery eyes once more as you sit back with crossed arms, a smug grin on your face as you motion for him to say something.

“Carne, if this is another stupid fuckin’ prank-”

“You… shitty old man…”

There's a crackle on the other end, Sanji watching the face on the snail change from irritation to one of complete surprise.

He swears every hurt he'd ever felt in his life healed when Zeff finally spoke again.

“You shitty little eggplant…” There's another pause as he hears a sniffle from the snail.

“... My son!”

#mandies mumbles ; fanfics #black leg sanji #op sanji #x reader #sanji x reader #one piece #sanji #THIS IS A VINSMOKE HATER HOUSEHOLD 😤😤😤😤#I think Oda should let Sanji call his dad #vinsmoke judge can catch these hands 😤😤😤😤👊👊👊#i love you shana !!! i hope you enjoy thid little treat 🤭🤭💖💖💖

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