#once I realized how much I liked the idea
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lunebulous · 2 days ago
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Playing with your body in non-sexual ways
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A.N: This is my first time writing fanfiction. Any feedback is very much appreciated. I hope you enjoy! I have no idea what tags to put here so, just trust me bro. cw: thigh worshipping (zayne), plus-size reader (rafayel).
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Xavier
There wouldn’t be a lot of occasions where his caresses would be in a non sexual way - that's why he's known to be a wolf in sheep's clothing. But don't get me wrong, being sexual does not equal condescending or rough. Not for him. - well, sometimes. - It's just that if he focuses too long on your face when you’re sleeping soundly, or when you're admiring the lantern lights at another festival, he gets this sensation that he should own you once more, just to be sure you're his. 
So when he kisses, it's only to leave you wanting more of him.  So when he caresses your body, it's only to let himself know he's the one making your skin get goosebumps.  So when he embraces all of you in a tight hug, it’s only to feel like you’re finally real this time.  And when all of these inevitably turn into that feeling of ownership again, he frowns internally. Initially, he wishes that he was different and that he wouldn’t feel like this everytime he stops to think about you; But it's just so much love that it overflows from his heart, dripping right into the lowest part of his torso. When he realizes, he’s slowly kissing you against the wall again. He can’t help it, he's naturally drawn to you like a magnet. And that feeling gives place to a necessity, a craving that hurts so deliciously he gives up on being different. So when you gasp for air and tug at his hair to breathe a little, he just can’t understand why. Or how can you do this to him. He wants more. And more. And more. He needs it so bad he can’t help but pin your hands to the wall so he can kiss you longer, raveling in the way you squirm under him. After all, just because he can't help it, doesn't mean he's not enjoying every second of the fruits of his own possessiveness.
So he caresses you all the time - the problem is that it often turns into a primal need to own and to explore each cute face - each little sound - you make for him. He feels like a victim to his own desires. Poooor Xavier… (irony included).
Rafayel
Rafayel is completely enamoured by your hands, making sure to always kiss them whenever he gets the chance. When he doesn’t, he’s more than expected to caress them while you wait for food in a nice restaurant, or when you’re walking on the shore with him. He is the king of intertwining your hands all the time - never letting go even if for brief moments. He says his bodyguard should be aware of where he is at all times, and when you replied that having one of your hands busy would actually get in the way if danger arrives, he puffed his chest, saying something along the lines of “i’m lucky I have the best bodyguard that can fight 10 men with only one hand then!”. You sighed, giggling because of him. “You’re not actually expecting me to fight with 10 men without letting go of your hand, right?” “Well, I'm pretty sure that was on your job description when I hired you.”  “No it wasn’t.” “Now it is.”  --- He also kisses and grabs your stomach and love handles all the time, especially when lying down, like now. There were some times when it made you feel a little bit insecure, but he always buried his face on it with a big smile, hugging your waist. When you voiced your insecurity to him for the first time, he simply said: “Well, I never saw a painting of any muse that didn’t have enough body for me to drown in it. - he stares up at you intently, before looking at your stomach again. - In fact, it is the only scenario where drowning would be possible for me. - Now he’s getting a hold of your love handles. - And actually, i'd love it. Thank you, my muse!” Right before nuzzling his face on your belly again, giggling. You blush furiously, caressing his purple locks, but he’s too busy to see it.
Zayne
Zayne would always need a bit of a push to touch you like he wants to - and you know that. He’s slowly coming out of his shell and being more confident when it comes to being intimate with you, getting over his irrational fear of hurting you again. The ‘push’ he got today was seeing you come home after brunch with your friends, wearing a dark and muted red lipstick, blended on your lips so perfectly it reminded him of a vintage doll. He made a note to himself to compliment you later when you had your attention on him - because you were busy taking off your shoes, your coat and yapping about some BIG gossip you just found out. He listens attentively, putting two and two together with you as you happily stride towards him. 
You sit beside him on the couch and hug his arm, leaning on his shoulder. He places his hand between your thighs, trying not to pay too much attention to it - a task quite hard for him, as you were wearing light brown stockings that made your oh-so-loved thighs look even more bite-deserving; But he tries to shake the thought away. 
It doesn’t take long before you’re well-invested in the documentary he is watching, but the position is getting quite uncomfortable now, so you crawl between his legs and rest your back against his chest, both of you laying down on the chaise part of the couch. First he stares at you, finding adorable how you don’t hesitate before making yourself comfortable with him. He lays a chaste kiss on the crown of your head, making you snuggle against him even more, getting it just right like two puzzle pieces. And he swears to himself he’s a good man. He is not going to turn this into something more just because your ass grinded against him innocently, no, no. Breathe, you touch-starved man! 
But the same man now is fighting for his life to NOT look at your thighs, the stockings making them look so shiny for him, he couldn't help himself but imagine the shadows his fingers pressing onto your skin would look like. He imagined you in not-so-innocent lightings more than he’d ever admit, and as his thoughts stray away, he doesn’t notice how he’s been caressing your chest and collarbones for some time now, lightly using his fingertips to circle around your skin, as if memorizing each part of it. Then he's slowly directing his way to your neck, with four fingers on one side and his thumb on the other, going up and down with featherly touches as his eyes are glued to your legs, completely blank, admiring each curve going from the arch of your feet to your calves, and then to your thighs, stopping at the start of your tight skirt. Now he’s gripping your neck - just lightly pressing on it, your airflow is completely free. (for now). You can’t help but wonder what’s going on inside his mind, lying to yourself that feeling his firm hand around your neck is not making you want to rub your legs together, but you're already doing it a bit, discreetly, not knowing you’re being very thoroughly watched. As he’s breathing deeper to try to not get excited, you feel his hand slowly letting go of your neck and you whine inwardly at it. But then his hands hesitantly go higher, his slender fingers sliding across your chin to play with your lips as he remembered to compliment you. He opens his mouth to do it, but being so lost in thought he just stops. Staring at your legs with an empty gaze, completely out of it. God, they’d look so good around his cock. Fuck.  You look up, a bit surprised with his actions, slowly tilting your head to the side, looking at him. - the movement makes him get out of his trance, suddenly confused as to how his fingers got to your lips - but as if reading his mind, you part them, waiting. And then he gets it. The key to making himself touch you like he wants to is just to - not think. It makes sense, it's a part of him he never let himself explore. He then lets himself do what he wants, sliding his middle and index finger on your tongue, experimenting. As you close your lips around them, looking at him so puppy-eyed, he can't help but smirk as realizing he could get used to this very quickly. You start feeling him growing against your ass now.
He presses down on your tongue, smiling. “You look so beautiful wearing this color, love.”
So, Zayne doesn’t play with any part of your body - because as soon as he does it, he gets a problem under his trousers. And now that he knows how to let go of control, - you got one too.
Sylus
Sylus wouldn’t be the type of man to touch you without being full-on intentional with it. The same amount of hate he has towards ‘quickies’, he has for the idea of touching your most sensitive parts without being completely devoted to them. So when playing with you, it is usually filled with admiration and love, silently appreciating your presence by his side. That’s why you often find him mindlessly braiding your hair as you lay your head on his lap to watch a movie, or how he gently runs his fingernails - once claws - on your calf under the table when he’s discussing his next moves with the twins. Yeah, sometimes his hands wander a little bit higher, a little bit firmer, but always looking at you to watch your reaction; as if to just - test the waters, tease you to see your ears turn red.. or warm you up for what’s coming next.
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gyaruhana · 22 hours ago
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Can you do a smut fic where readers dating thanos and she nearly dies in red light green light, and they realise how dangerous the games are and fuck like it’s their last night together? Im talking pure need and lust, desperation after realising the stakes of the squid games
Thanos / Choi Su-bong - I love you
Synopsis: After witnessing so much death and realizing you may both be next, you decide to fuck in the bathroom.
A/N: combined this with two other requests asking for bathroom sex.. i hope that was okay !! also not entirely proof read..
Warnings: smut content, fingering, praise, he's more gentle tbh
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You had never feared death before. It always seemed so far away and it was the least of your concerns considering the debt you and your boyfriend, Thanos, share after betting it all on some coin a youtuber recommended. Never once in your life had you thought you would actually die. You always imagined that you'd die at an old age in a fancy house- maybe even with a kid or two. Point is, you didn't think about death because you really didn't see any need to.
Until today that is. 
You and your boyfriend had come across a great opportunity to earn lots of won by playing a few games. Considering you had already earned quite a bit from a game of ddakji, it was a no-brainer to agree to a few games. At the time, it didn't seem suspicious because the salesman who offered the card to you had given you plenty of won without a catch. 
Although you were knocked out with a gas when you entered the designated car together and practically kidnapped, neither of you thought anything about it- too excited at the idea of making money to pay off your debt with a few games. Any money goes a long way to finally paying off your debt so you can focus on getting your dream life.
Idiotically enough, you also didn't find any suspicion in the guy yelling something about how you'll be shot if you move. It actually made you and Thanos laugh at the ridiculousness of it as you both assumed he was just some drunk making up shit to scare people. How wrong the both of you were.
By the time everyone had made it to the halfway mark with plenty of time to spare, Thanos saw a bee land on some girl and made a comment about it. The girl immediately let out a scream and moved to try to get the bee off of her. It was amusing to watch until the sound of a gunshot rang through the air and her body fell to the floor. 
The smile on both your faces dropped immediately as blood pooled around her now-dead body. You and Thanos stood deadly still as people started to scream and run away out of fear. Every gunshot made your heart drop further because that could be you or him. The idea one of you might die right now was sickening for the both of you. 
The moment the sound of shooting stopped, the doll turned out and called green light again. Thanos quickly reached for his necklace while walking forward, desperately needing to be high right now so he could try to pretend like this wasn't really happening. Meanwhile, you didn't move a muscle - too afraid you might die here. You didn't want to be shot too.
The doll turned its head and called out red light making everyone freeze again. Another gunshot rang out making you flinch but thankfully the doll didn't notice the small movement. When it turned around again, Thanos put the pill in his mouth before closing his necklace and looking behind him. You still weren't moving, making him worry. You didn't have time to just stand there, you had to get going and make it to the end.
“What are you doing? You have to move,” Thanos spoke out as he gestured for you to come over to him. He kept still when the doll announced red light again but he kept his eyes on yours. He couldn't have you just stand there until your inevitable death. The moment the players could move again, Thanos ran toward you and grabbed your wrist before pulling you along with him. 
With Thanos dragging you along, you both managed to make it to the end before the time ran out. The relief the two of you shared was only there momentarily. You may have survived this game but what's to say you'll survive the next game? There was no guarantee. In fact, you weren't even confident in yourself that you'd survive the next game. After all, you only got through this because Thanos had dragged you to the end. 
As if sensing your fear, Thanos looked at you and cupped your face with his hands. “Don't look so stressed, baby. We're fine,” he spoke as he gently caressed your cheek. You gave a small smile at his words but the fear didn't disappear. He let out a sigh before tapping your cheek twice and removing his hands. He knew there wasn't much he could say to make this any better. It was a lot to handle, that was for sure. The only reason he was calm was because he had popped a pill the moment the first person died. 
As the players were slowly led back to the main room which they had awoken in, Thanos took your hand to keep you close to him. Despite the drugs he had taken, he was still pretty stressed about the whole ordeal. Mostly because of you. He couldn't fathom the idea of you getting shot like those other idiots in the last game. He'd definitely go crazy if you got hurt so he needed to keep you close to him. 
Even after you were already in the room, his hand still kept a firm grip on yours as if you might disappear should he let go. You didn't mind though. If anything, his hand squeezing yours was a huge comfort. A silent reminder that he wouldn't be going anywhere any time soon. It made you feel significantly calmer to be close to him.
He led you to the back of the room and sat you down on the bed before sitting down next to you, his legs crossed with his hand still in yours. He looks at you for a few moments, analyzing your face and trying to read your thoughts. He didn’t like the way your eyes lingered on your lap instead of him so he raised a hand and tilted your chin upwards to make you look at him.
“Baby, you good?” he asks even though he already knew the answer to that question. You were quite far from good after all the blood you had seen. “Am i good?” you say sarcastically, mocking his own words. “Of course, I’m not! I just saw people die! Too many! Fuck, that could’ve been me or you,” you speak, your stress about the whole situation evident in your face and tone. “You gotta relax. We’re fine. Besides we’ll get out of here soon,” he says reassuringly as he looks at you with worry.
You let out a sigh and shake your head as you look to the side- away from him. It was quiet for a few moments as Thanos waited for you to say something else, knowing that you were thinking something. “What if we don’t?” you finally say as you look back at him again. “Don’t say that,” he speaks as his face hardens slightly at the idea that you might die. Fuck, he couldn’t bear the thought of you laying lifeless. “Not saying it doesn’t make it any less of a possibility,” you respond with a frown. He knows that you’re right. It’s a possibility that he can’t just ignore.
“I swear on my life that I will protect you,” he says with a sincere look on his face. It didn’t make you feel any better though because swearing on his life in a game where he could actually die wasn’t a good thing. “Don’t say that,” you speak, repeating his earlier words as your face hardens. You didn’t want him to even think about sacrificing his life for you. You couldn’t see what you’d do without him. 45.6 billion was useless if he couldn’t be there with you to spend it. 
“Okay,” he says with a small smirk as he raises his hand in mock surrender. “I’ll swear on the sun and the moon instead,” he said as he lowered his hands. His words were enough to make you smile a little. Him swearing on the sun and the moon was plenty more significant then others may think. He swore on the sun and the moon he’d treat you right when he first asked you to be his. He swore on the sun and the moon to always be there for you after a particularly bad day when you lost your dad. Most of all, he swore on the sun and the moon that he’d buy a nice house and you could get married and live happily ever after together. He never ever took the name of the sun and moon in vain and that’s why hearing him say it now made you feel just a little better about the current situation.
Thanos looked behind himself for a moment before back at you. “Hey.. if swearing on the sun and moon isn’t enough for you, I could show you how serious I am,” he says with a small smirk. It didn’t take an idiot to know what he meant by that. “..what exactly does that mean?” you question even though you already knew exactly what he meant. There was a spark of desire in his eyes that matched yours as his hand gripped yours tightly. “I don’t have to tell you for you to know,” he says before standing up and pulling you up from the bed with him. 
He drags you towards the door on the right side of the room and bangs on it loudly. “Hey, open up. Bathroom needed,” he says and the door opens after a moment. “Ladies first,” he says with a smirk as he steps out of the way to let you go in first. You shake your head, an amused smile playing on your face as you walk in. The guard led you both down the hallway and to the bathroom. Thanos didn’t waste any time in pushing past that door, dragging you behind him. 
With his patience wearing thin, he quickly pulled you into a kiss. It was unlike his usual kisses that were rough and involved his tongue jammed down your throat. This kiss was more passionate as if he was trying to say something words could never convey properly. He quickly pushed you back into one of the stalls and kicked the door closed behind him, locking it with one of his hands. He spun you around and pushed your back against the stall wall. 
“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he mumbles after pulling away momentarily. He stares at you silently - memorizing every feature of your face. He could never get enough of how pretty you were. It felt like a miracle someone like you was with a dickhead like him. He couldn’t help but admire you. “..What? Is something wrong?” you say as you look at him with concern. You didn’t expect him to just stare at you out of nowhere and it was a little embarrassing. 
He shakes his head as he snaps out of his trance. “No, sorry. Just thinking about how fucking lucky I am,” he says before kissing you again like it’s the last time he could ever get to kiss you. In his mind, it damn well could be. One of you really could be dead by tomorrow evening and then that was it. He’d never see you smile or laugh again or look at him like he was the most important thing in the world. The thought was sickening. No matter how confident or cocky he’d act, he was still just Choi Su-bong. And Choi Su-bong was undeniably yours.
You put your arms around his neck as you kissed him back - the feeling of his hands on your waist keeping you in the moment and erasing any memory of the earlier events just for now. His hands slipped under your shirt to feel your skin before he pulled away from the kiss and opted for leaving kisses on your neck instead. He sucked at the skin so delicately and slowly, trying to savor his time with you as much as possible. His lips paused for a moment when they hovered over your pulse point before he kissed the area and bit it softly to mark you right above your pulse so he could feel your heart beat quicker - a silent confirmation that you were still very much alive. 
His hands trailed down to the waistband of your pants before he tugged them down till they dropped to the floor. His hand then pulled your underwear down too, not wanting to waste time with foreplay with the limited time you two shared together. His index finger gently traced over your clit making a moan escape the back of your mouth. “You’re already wet for me? God - I can just skip ahead then, yeah?” he says as he pulls his hand to pull his pants down along with his boxers. 
“Not even a little prep?” you question as you look at him. He laughs quietly before nodding his head. “Fine, but you better cum quick - I need to feel you,” he speaks as one of his hands finds its way to your hole again. He carefully rubs his fingers back and forth before slipping in a finger. His free hand went to cover your mouth when a moan escaped as he couldn’t risk the guard outside the bathrooms hearing and breaking up this moment with you. 
“Gotta be quiet, baby,” he says as he starts to finger you. You nod your head as you try to keep as quiet as possible. He inserts another finger and begins to quicken the pace in which he thrusted his fingers in and out of you. He kept his eyes on your face, loving your reactions to his fingers deep inside your aching core. He had always observed you like this but there was something different about it now that you two had each other to lose. Everything was so much more passionate than usual. You found that your release came much quicker this time around as you released on his fingers. 
“God, you’re so good for me,” he says as he pulls his fingers out slowly before bringing them to his mouth and tasting you. He held eye contact with you as he sucked his fingers clean before leaning down and kissing you again, his hand finding its place on the back of your neck to keep you close. He slowly lined himself up with you, his tip rubbing against your entrance making him let out a small groan. 
He slowly pushed into you, burying his face into your neck as he stretched you out with his dick. He let out a heavy huff at the feeling of being inside you. It felt euphoric. You were so unbelievably tight as he continued to inch himself further in. You let out a moan that was muffled by his hand as he finally pushed in the rest of his dick with one stroke. “You good?” he asks as he pulls his head away from your neck and looks at you. You were still for a few moments before you nodded your head - finally adjusting to the stretch.
The moment you nodded your head, he slipped out before thrusting right back in. He let out a low groan as he repeated the movement over and over, making sure you could feel every inch of his cock deep inside you. You leaned your head back against the stall door as he thrusted in and out of you with a quick pace. His hands grab at your hips roughly to keep you still while he thrusts in and out of your tight hole. “God.. Holy fucking shit,” he mumbled under his breath as the sound of skin hitting skin echoed through the bathroom. He loved being deep inside you like this. It felt so fucking good. Even more so now because it was a way to reassure himself you were still here with him and not one of the many corpses he saw earlier.
The thought you could be dead soon spurred him on to fuck you harder. He hated that possibility. He didn’t want to think about that. He just wanted to think about you. How your head was thrown back, how your arms were wrapped around his shoulders, how you tried to keep quiet but struggled because he made you feel so good. He loved every fucking part of you - you were perfect.
"Fuck - I love you. Do you hear me? I love you so fucking much. Please say it back" he spoke as he thrusted into you quickly, his pace getting sloppy as he drew ever-so closer to a sweet release. God, he wanted to fill you up with his cum but he needed to hear you say that you loved him like he loved you. He needed to know you cared for him and wouldn’t leave him anytime soon. You nodded your head before forcing yourself to look him in the eyes. “I-I love you too,” you speak and the groan he lets out is so loud.
He immediately releases with one last thrust, making sure his cum spills deep inside of you. You released along with him with a moan and you both stilled. It was quiet for a few moments aside from the heavy breathing that filled the bathroom. He leaned his forehead against yours and closed his eyes as he came down from his high. His hands slowly trailed up from your hips to your face as he gently held your cheeks in his hands.
“I love you,” he repeats as he opens his eyes and looks into yours. There was very much a different kind of look in his eyes this time. A look that told you how much he really meant what he said. There was a hint of fear in his eyes too as he genuinely feared that he may lose you sooner or later to these stupid games.
“I know,”
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revelboo · 21 hours ago
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YOU 🫵 AGAIN HAVE FORSAKENED ME
I went to Walmart and saw THIS and was like, yeah I need that 😭 THEY HAD SO MUCH TF:ONE STUFF TOO?? My bank account is crying already 😭😭
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Sorry for shit quality. I was excited 😅
All the figures! 🤣 Do it, do it, do it
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Everything Is Alright Pt 104
IDW Starscream x Reader, Megatron x Reader, Soundwave x Reader
• “Problem?” Megatron growls, tempted to reach and touch you just to antagonize Starscream, but something about the expression on the Seeker’s face is almost dangerous. Furious and desperate and barely in control. “You should be gentler with your mate,” he says instead as Starscream’s optics narrow. Remembering those ragged sounds of grief you’d made and the way they'd twisted through his spark. You're only human and he shouldn't even care, but those sounds had bothered him. Never wants to hear them again. Sliding off the berth, he towers over the Seeker, ignoring as Starscream flares his wings. “Don’t make our pet cry again or I’ll take it out on you.”
• Gritting his denta as he stands his ground, Megatron shoulders past him, unconcerned with his anger. Not seeing him as a threat. Turning when the door closes behind Megatron, he mass shifts and grabs Soundwave’s shoulder, trying to pull him away. Hissing through his denta when the communications officer loops a possessive arm around you. Refusing to let you go from where he has you in his lap. “You left,” Soundwave growls in warning and his wings droop.
• “I came back,” Starscream mutters, optics sliding to you and expression softening. Kneeling beside Soundwave and offering you his hand. Asking you to come to him willingly. And you're not sure that you want to. Soundwave stayed and he didn't. “I’ll always come back for you.” But he still left you. Again. “Please?” That raspy whisper does you in and you reach for him, let him pull you to him and wrap his arms around you.
• “You keep hurting me,” you whisper and Soundwave’s spark constricts, hearing the unspoken ‘and I keep letting you.’ Knows you love the Seeker and he hates that fact right now. Hates Starscream as the Seeker rests his chin on top of your head, optics shuttering. Because he’s not sure the other mech understands how badly his rejection and denials hurt you. That alone convincing him that he needs Megatron tied to you. Someone that can force Starscream to be better. Because he won’t allow him to hurt you again. He can't. You'll forgive him in time. Realize that this was the only way. That it was all for you, to protect you.
• Grinding his denta at the pain in your voice and that you don’t sound surprised, like you expected him to hurt you. And that hurts him spark deep. Don’t you understand how much you mean to him? That you’re home and now a future? That you're the only spot of warmth and happiness in his life? Wings flicking as he tries to ignore Soundwave watching and listening, he tips your chin up and brushes his mouth against the corner of yours, nudging your forehead with his helm. "I was afraid," he admits, lips brushing yours, hating saying it out loud. Owning up to the fear and insecurity. Little, soft hands touch his face as you brush a kiss against him.
• "You think I'm not?" Because you're terrified and the one person who should have been there, ran away. Again. Really, you're the one in the dark here. Sparklings? You have no idea how this is going to work. Because the thought of actually birthing something like him, metal not soft flesh like you? There are so many questions, but you're half afraid if you ask them, he'll panic and bolt again. He's already so fidgety and uncomfortable. But he still loops his arm around you, holding you close. And you want to believe that he won't abandon you again, but you're not sure that you can anymore. Once is an accident, but twice?
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drdemonprince · 2 days ago
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Gender liberation, in the end, is not a war between the good group and the bad. It is a collective struggle against the laws, cultural norms, social rules, and institutional policies that restrict all people, and uses rigid gendered categories to keep us so restricted. 
I think if we are going to be able to move forward in this fight, trans men must abandon the notion that other men are fundamentally the “bad” gender — and that we don’t belong to that category because of our transness. We must embrace manhood as a state of both strength and profound lostness, an immense liability as much as it is a source of gender euphoric joy, and see the frustrated wanderings of other marginalized masculine people as of a piece with our own. 
And so, in the interest of helping us all find our way to each other, here are some of the major struggles that trans men and cis men have in common: 
Gender Dysphoria 
Many people believe the experience of having gender dysphoria is something like having a phantom limb, or seeing the wrong image in the mirror, but that’s rarely true. 
For a lot of trans people, gender dysphoria feels more like a maddening insecurity about how we look and how we are being perceived that seems to know no satisfaction, a mental itching that wanders all across our bodies, our faces, down our throats, across our hairlines, and even all over our clothes. It’s the uncertain sense we are not being ourselves correctly, an out-of-placeness that makes our very being feel like it has no right to exist.
Gender dysphoria is not caused by having the “wrong” gendered brain for one’s body (the notion of “male” and “female” brains is a myth), nor is it a mental illness afflicting only trans people. Rather, gender dysphoria is a pretty sensible trauma response to society’s unrelenting and coercive gendering. All people are categorized as a gender, assigned rules, and threatened with becoming less of a person should they fail to measure up. This means that even cisgender people can experience the terror of feeling that they’ve failed to enact their gender correctly and make themselves socially acceptable— a sensation that often gets called “gender dysphoria.” 
I think I first realized that cis people could be gender dysphoric when the actress Amanda Bynes revealed she had tumbled into a major depressive episode after watching herself portray a male character in the comedy She’s the Man. The disturbance she felt from watching herself enact the “wrong” gender sounded exactly like how I felt back when I looked in the mirror at myself as a “woman.” 
In 2019, when Jason Derulo complained about his bulge being removed with CGI for his role in the film Cats, I was reminded once again that cis people can feel utterly, dysphorically wrong in their bodies or how they are perceived. Each year, millions of cis people spend thousands of dollars on breast augmentations, jaw implants, hair plugs, and leg-lengthening surgeries, at least in part for gender dysphoric reasons, and if you’ve worn both male and female clothing before, you’ve likely recognized how much of the tailoring of garments is done to deliberately accentuate or even manufacture the gendered features of a person’s shape. 
Cis people feel ill-at-ease in their bodies, and fail to measure up to gender normative standards too. That’s how artificially constructed and harshly enforced these standards really are.
In recent years, I’ve spent a good amount of time in gay male bathhouses. When I reveal this fact, even to other gay men, I’m sometimes met with confessions of deep bodily insecurity. The idea of being nude in a highly gendered sexual marketplace often causes people’s worst gendered fears to bubble up. 
“I could never go to a place like that,” one cis gay man in his forties confessed to me. “My dick is too small. Nobody would ever want to look at me.” 
“I wouldn’t fit in there,” said another cis man, a short, effeminate type with long flowing hair. “They might think I was a girl and kick me out or harass me.” 
These men knew, of course, that I don’t have a penis, and can be mistaken for a woman from some angles. And I had just told each of them I’d never had any problem visiting the sauna. Yet they couldn’t shake the sense that I was doing manhood correctly enough, and they were somehow doing it wrong. Despite ostensibly being “cis,” they weren’t quite sure that manhood as a category could hold them as they really were — not when they were nude and vulnerable, surrounded by their idea of the proper man. 
Of course, having been in these spaces frequently, I could have told them that nobody there is the “proper” kind of man at all. There’s just regular human beings in there — with sunken chests, stretch marks, amputated limbs, multi-layered bellies, rounded backs, tiny hands, and eye patches. 
Over the years, cis men have shared dozens of gender dysphoric insecurities with me, about everything from the width of their shoulders to the length of their eyelashes to the way they hold a can of beer. And in some of the sections below, we will explore more specific examples, because these sources of dysphoria mirror trans men’s almost exactly. But it’s important to establish first that the major commonality across both groups of men is our fear we’re not being men correctly at all. 
Every man, I believe, grapples with the disjoint between their actual, complex human selves and the strong, built, stoic, powerful, masculine image that has been pushed upon us. And we fear living up to that standard because the consequences of that failure can be so harsh — these norms are quite violently imposed. 
Failing to be a man, in some sense, is what being a man actually means. We are united in the precarity of our position, as powerful as it is. A man in a tank-top with a bald spot sitting beside a lush pond. Photo by Beth Macdonald on Unsplash
Hair Insecurities 
“I wish I could grow a full beard so that I could pass better,” says Topher, a trans guy with long hair in his mid-twenties. “But I’m realizing that cis men with long hair get misgendered often too.” 
Dunmer, a bisexual trans guy, echoes this experience. “In this one chemistry class a few years ago, both me and this cis guy got called ma’am by a professor. I’m a rather effeminate/androgynous dude, but I have prominent facial hair. And the other guy who got misgendered was pretty masculine, but had long hair and was clean shaven. We both just kinda looked at each other and shrugged after it happened.” 
I’ve found that numerous cis and trans men harbor deep insecurities about their hair — where it’s growing, where it doesn’t, how it looks on their bodies, and where they might be losing it. It may sound like a frivolous subject at first blush, but hair is integral to gendered perceptions, as well as how others view our sexual attractiveness, race, and age. 
Trans men worry frequently about potential hair loss on T for more aesthetic reasons. I’ve known numerous trans masculine people who have avoided starting hormones because they’ve feared eventually going bald and becoming “less attractive.” And in this we aren’t alone, as 52 billion dollars gets spent each year (by people of all genders) on hair loss prevention treatments. 
“It’s helped me to realize that cis men are also scared of going bald,” says Topher. “When I worry about something gender-wise, I ask myself if cis men deal with what I deal with, and it’s helped me settle into my identity more.” 
Cis and trans men also share complicated feelings about body hair. Though being covered in a dark blanket of fuzz certainly reads as “masculine,” male beauty standards for the last several decades have eschewed hairiness in favor of a the glistening, action-figure-y look. Trans and cis men alike often fear that hair sprouting on their backs will make them unattractive, or that growing a “neckbeard” will be seen as slovenly. And it’s no coincidence that hairiness has often been linked with fatness and being racialized in many people’s minds — the uncontrolled proliferation of hair is often cast as animalistic, unclean, disgusting, less than human. 
But some men have sought refuge from such punishing standards within the gay Bear community. 
“I have never felt more welcomed in my masculinity than I have around other bears,” says Kody, a trans male bear. “I’m literally growing in my manhood — getting bigger, hairier, louder, taking up more space. While being really soft and tender too.” 
I wrote about the many struggles that unite trans and cis men, and how a deep appreciation for our commonalities is essential to the fight for gender liberation. You can read the full piece for free, or have it narrated to you by the Substack app, at drdevonprice.substack.com.
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bread-crum206 · 20 hours ago
Text
A Game of Hearts
Chapter seven: Closer Than Before
Summary: Y/N’s father is a VIP for the games, he makes a deal with the Frontman that if he marries his only daughter that he will continue to sponsor the games. However, Y/N is not fond of this decision as she loathes the games and in turn, loathes the Frontman as well. Will she grow to love him? Will he let his walls down?
Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8
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The rain hadn’t stopped since the afternoon, a constant thrum against the windows. The kind of weather that felt like the world was pressing in, making everything inside feel a little more closed off, a little more confined. You stood on the first level of the VIP room, eyes wandering over the cold, imposing space. It was beautiful in its own way, all sharp edges and dark marble, but it lacked… warmth.
You needed to change that.
The Frontman—still wearing his mask, as always—stood a few steps behind you, his figure tall and unreadable, like he was a part of the room itself. Silent. Unmoving.
“I’ve been thinking,” you started, turning to face him, your voice a little louder than you’d intended, breaking the silence. “About what I want to do with the VIP room. It’s… too cold. I think it needs something different.”
You looked at him, but he didn’t respond right away. Instead, his gaze scanned the space, lingering over the walls, the large, dark staircase, the bar area layered along the far wall. The way he looked at it made it clear that he wasn’t just seeing the design, but feeling it too, like he could sense the emptiness in the room.
“Like what?” His voice finally cut through the silence, low and steady.
You shrugged, trying to explain. “I was thinking of doing something like… Ancient Greece. Dark marble walls, dark green plants… a more organic vibe. I could make the models like Greek statues. You know, the ones with the sheer togas—more like they belong in the room, not just… standing there. It’d be darker, but it would feel more alive.”
The Frontman was quiet for a moment, processing your words. You couldn’t tell if he liked the idea or if he thought it was too much. His mask hid everything. His silence made it hard to read him.
“I think it could work,” he said finally, his voice distant but not dismissive. “The space is big enough for it.”
You felt yourself exhale, not realizing how much tension had been in your shoulders until it started to ease. You’d expected him to argue, or at least poke holes in your plan. But he was… actually considering it.
“I’ll need to see the full plan when you have it,” he added. “If you’re sure about it, I’ll get the contractors to start working on it.”
“Of course,” you said, your voice lighter now. “I’ll get something to you soon.”
You both stood there in silence for a while, looking around the room. It was still cold, but now, there was a shift. You’d actually said something, made a choice about this place. And he’d listened. He hadn’t rejected you outright. It felt… like progress, in a way.
Once the silence lingered too long, you followed him as he started to walk toward the staircase, down to the second level of the VIP room. You didn’t even think about it, just automatically stepping behind him. You both descended the stairs and made your way toward the couches, the massive TV on the wall. Everything in the room felt bigger, more imposing the longer you stayed there, but now there was a faint connection between you two that wasn’t there before.
The bar area was silent as always. You could hear the soft hum of the air conditioning, the sound of your heels on the polished floor. You broke the silence first.
“Do you ever get tired of this place?” you asked before you could stop yourself. “All of this… the Games? The power? The way everything just feels like it’s running on autopilot?”
You glanced at him quickly. You weren’t sure if he was going to answer or if you’d just overstepped, but you couldn’t help it. Something about the heaviness in the air between you both made you feel like he might actually understand.
“I don’t have the luxury of tiring,” he said after a moment, his voice quiet. There was no edge to his tone, no anger, just… resignation.
You wanted to push further, to ask him about the cost of all this—about the man behind the mask. But something stopped you. Instead, you nodded, accepting his words, even though they didn’t answer your question.
Neither of you spoke again as you made your way back to your shared quarters. The walk was slow, deliberate, like neither of you wanted to break the delicate silence. During the walk, you couldn’t help but think about how you’d been married to the Frontman for a little over a month, and you still didn’t know his name.
He knew yours, so what’s the problem?
The thought lingered in your mind as you reached the door to your quarters, and for a moment, you hesitated before reaching for the handle. The Frontman stopped beside you, his gaze on the door, but for a brief moment, you could feel his attention shift toward you. You weren’t sure if it was because of what you’d just discussed or if it was something else, but the atmosphere between you had changed—just a little.
You swung the door open and stepped inside, the Frontman following closely behind. You both moved further into the quarters, but he stepped past you, on his way to his office.
“Goodnight,” you said softly, the word feeling heavier than usual.
He didn’t respond right away. You were about to turn away when his voice stopped you.
“Goodnight.” He said, his tone softer than before. He seemed to hesitate, stopping in his place in the hallway.
He turned to face you once more, and there was a brief pause before he added, almost casually, “My name is In-ho.”
The words hung in the air between you like a revelation—something you hadn’t expected but that you’d somehow been waiting for. It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t some grand confession. It was just… simple. Human. In-ho. It didn’t feel like the name of the Frontman, the man behind the mask. It felt like the name of someone who was finally letting go, just a little.
You blinked, surprised, your throat tight. “In-ho,” you repeated, almost as if testing it, letting it sit in your mouth. His name. Not the cold title you’d been using all this time, but the real one.
He nodded once, short and simple, and then opened the door. But before he stepped inside, he paused for a moment, glancing back at you. “I won’t be hard to find, if you need me,” he said, voice soft, quieter than before. Then, without another word, he disappeared into the room.
You stood there for a while, processing what had just happened. In-ho. You didn’t know what it meant yet, but somehow, it felt like it mattered. Maybe not everything would change overnight, but this moment—this small shift—it was something.
It was a crack in the wall, a small opening that let you see a little more of him than before. And that was a start.
———————
This is chapter seven!! I have a few more coming tonight! Lemme know what you think!!
Tag list:
@sunny21200
@lucinda-reads
@shakysif
@whoisbriannaa
@allmylovegoestomusic
@swthrtbyeol
@strawberrychita
@hoddystark
@livelaughcelica
@foulbreadpaenut
@write-from-the-heart
@angelofthorr
@sylviavf
@missroro
@siloveyourmoms
@luv1ze
@audrey223
@khaylin27
@gay4hotmilfs
@mimis-u3u
@captainlunaxmen
@cdej6
@ritaaaz07
@chateaumarmontt
@eepgirls
@ushouldhmhas
@fedsvenable
@dahliawarner
@fyodorssimp1
@nanamilkbread
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slytherin-princess-x · 2 days ago
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Catch me if I fall
Theodore nott x clumsy!reader
It’s just fluffy and cute today guys
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The library was always a sanctuary for me, a place where the musty scent of old parchment and the quiet rustling of pages provided comfort in a world that sometimes felt overwhelming. I had long given in to the idea that I was not meant for the subtle elegance that came so naturally to the Slytherins around me. While they moved with an air of confidence and grace, I had earned my reputation for being a little… clumsy.
Today was no exception. The tall shelves towered above me, laden with books that promised knowledge and escape. I had spotted a particularly intriguing volume on advanced potions that was tucked high up on the shelf. My heart raced at the thought of finally uncovering secrets that could enhance my skills. With determination fueling my every move, I approached the ladder with purpose, a feeling of excitement bubbling within me.
Climbing the ladder was a feat in itself. My fingers brushed against the cool wood as I ascended, and I could hear the soft chatter of my fellow students around me, but I focused solely on the prize above. The book, leather-bound and glimmering with the promise of arcane knowledge, seemed to beckon me closer. I reached out, stretching my arm as far as it would go, my fingertips grazing the spine.
“Almost there…” I murmured to myself, summoning all the focus I could muster.
As I leaned forward, the ladder wobbled beneath me. Panic surged through me as I felt it slip just a bit. I had been so wrapped up in my quest for the book that I hadn’t even noticed Theodore Nott watching from a distance. His dark eyes were keen, constantly monitoring my every move with an intensity that sent a warm flush through me.
“Tesoro!” he called out, his voice laced with concern. (Darling)
But it was too late. The ladder had decided that it was done supporting me, and before I could react, I lost my balance. My heart dropped as I felt the world tilt. Just as I was about to meet the hard ground, strong arms caught me.
I landed with a soft thud against Theodore’s chest, and for a moment, the world around us faded into a blur. The warmth of his body enveloped me, and I could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat through his robes. My breath caught in my throat, and I looked up into his eyes, which were now a mix of amusement and genuine concern.
“Are you okay?” he asked, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
“Yeah, just peachy,” I replied, trying to play it cool despite the flush creeping up my cheeks. “You know, just a typical day in the life of a Slytherin klutz falling from a bookshelf ladder.”
He chuckled, the sound rich and comforting. “You really need to be more careful. I can’t keep catching you like this.” His tone was teasing referring to catching me once earlier this week, but there was an underlying seriousness to it that made my heart flutter.
I pushed myself away from him, suddenly acutely aware of how close we had been. The library had fallen silent, and I could feel the eyes of our peers on us, a mix of curiosity and intrigue. My cheeks burned hotter than the flames in the common room fireplace.
“I was just trying to get that book,” I explained, nodding toward the shelf above, suddenly very aware of my embarrassment. “I wanted to learn more about advanced potions for the next class.”
Theodore’s expression softened, and he stepped aside, allowing me to regain my footing. “How about I help you next time? You know I wouldn’t let you fall again,” he said, his voice low and reassuring.
My heart skipped a beat. It was moments like these that made me realize just how much I cherished our friendship. Relationship? Situationship? Theodore had a way of looking out for me, of always being there when I stumbled—literally and metaphorically. We had grown close extremely over the years, and he often defended me from the judgmental stares of other Slytherins when my klutziness made me the target of ridicule.
“Thanks, Theo,” I said, offering him a shy smile. “I’d appreciate that.”
He nodded, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile. “Just promise me you won’t make a habit of this,” he teased lightly, but there was a serious undertone in his voice that made me feel protected, cherished.
“Promise,” I replied, trying to sound sincere while secretly plotting my next escapade with a little more caution.
With a newfound resolve, I looked back at the high shelf, and Theodore seemed to sense my determination. “Let me get it for you,” he offered, stepping forward and easily reaching for the book I had so desperately sought.
As he handed it to me, I felt a rush of gratitude mixed with a twinge of embarrassment at my earlier mishap. “Thanks, Theo. You really are my hero,” I said, unable to hide the warmth in my voice.
“Just looking out for my favorite Slytherin,” he replied, winking.
And as I opened the book, ready to delve into its mysteries, I couldn’t help but feel that maybe my clumsiness wasn’t such a curse after all—if it meant I had someone like Theodore watching over me.
Taglist: @yootvi @redeemingvillains @littlemadamred @smut-anarchy
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Lady D mommy kink???
Lady D w/ a Mommy Kink
A/N: so fucking yummmy mmmm
CW: mommy kink, fingering, oral, teasing, dirty talk, this is fucking filthy soooo, also for the sex position reader is laying on top of Alcina on her back
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"O-Oh god," you choked out, drool dribbling down your chin. Alcina's two fingers were burrowed deep in your weeping cunt, the girth of her fingers stretching your walls apart. She pumps her fingers slowly, her joints brushing against your sweet spots.
"Look at you, drooling like a mindless fool," Alcina teases, her lips mere inches away your ear. Her warm breath sends shivers down your spine. "You're really enjoying yourself like a filthy whore, hm?"
She twists her fingers and you gasp, back arched off her body. "Yes! Fuck, that feels so good!" Squelching noises emit from your puffy sex, arousal leaking out of your stretched out hole. Heat scorches your sweaty skin.
"Darling, you're soaking wet," she mumbles into your ear, tongue darting out to lick the shell of your ear. She curls her fingers against your g-spot, causing you to squeal. Embarrassingly, a steady stream of delectable juices squirt out of your velvet heat. She smirks against your ear as your cheeks darken in hue, gasps escaping your swollen lips. "Such a dirty cunt you have here, my love." A smack to your pussy before shoving her fingers back in.
Her voice is thick like honey, her words rolling smoothly off the tip of her tongue.
"You were made to be my whore," she husks into your ear, picking up the pace of her fingers. You grasp onto her forearms, head falling back against her chest. You open your mouth to let out a long, lewd moan that echos in her chambers. "You were made to be nothing but my slut. This little cunt is meant to take whatever I give to it, right?"
"Hng...oh yes!!"
"Mine to lick and suck on."
"Oh, oh yes! Yes!"
"Mine to stretch open with my strap. That purple one you love so much."
"Yes, mommy, yes!" you cried out, grinding your cunt against her fingers. You hadn't realized what you said just yet. It came naturally to you. However, her movements stopped, leaving the world to spin and your cunt to throb heavily. "A-Alcina? Why'd you stop?" you whined, twisting your head to look up at her.
Alcina stares down at you in a bit of surprise, yet her yellow eyes gleam in desire "You just called me mommy," she says, studying your expression. She leans closer, her warm breath fanning against your cheek. "You like calling me mommy?"
You swallow your spit, gasping for air. "I-I...I mean, if you don't mind it...it's just..."
Alcina lets out a laugh. "Oh, getting shy on mommy, aren't you?" Hearing her refer to herself as mommy has your heart skipping a beat. "You want to sit there and act shy," she breathes, kissing your cheek, "yet mommy has her fingers deep inside your cute little pussy."
Suddenly her fingers were pumping into you ruthlessly, her fangs grazing of your neck. "Mommy has such a naughty little girl," she chuckles against your flesh. "Pretending to be shy, but don't you hear how loud you are, baby?" Her free hands takes grip of your jaw, forcing your mouth open, your onslaught of moans endless. "Don't sit there and pretend to be shy. Mommy knows she has a little slut on her hands."
Her words sends the heat straight to your stomach, your gummy walls clamping tightly around her fingers. Your head falls back against her chest once more, the world blurry and your mind mushy.
You were always tempted to try out the mommy kink with her, but held back in fear of rejection. You loved the idea of calling a dominant woman mommy. Being bent over her lap, arms tied behind your back, and spanked over and over again until you're sobbing and begging for mommy to show you mercy. For her to be a bit mean. To be pressed into the mattress and eaten out for hours, moaning out "M-Mommy! It's too much!" Just a dirty little fantasy of yours.
Fortunately for you, Alcina loves it. You're already her cute little submissive whore, but adding a mommy kink on top of it? Get ready for a long night, as she won't be done with you anytime soon.
"You love it when mommy makes this cute little pussy feel good," she purrs into your ear, her thumb rubbing circles into your puffy clit. "Mmm," she hums, her velvet voice echoing in your mind. She slowly moves her long fingers in circles, testing you out. "Judging by how tightly you're gripping my fingers...you love it when mommy plays with your pretty little pussy."
She shakes your head, her fingers deep within your cunt.
"It's rude not to answer mommy," she chides, flattening her thumb against your clit. You cry out in pleasure, wiggling against her body. "Does mommy need to spank your cute little cunny?"
God, this is filthy. Hot. Disgusting.
"N-No, mommy! I'll be good," you rasp, your drool slicking her palm. You struggle to speak from how good she's finger fucking you, but you manage. "I-I love it when mommy fingers me!"
"Mm, no baby, you have to say you love it when mommy plays with your tight little pussy," she corrects, squeezing your sopping wet pussy. "If I have to repeat myself once more, this sweet little cunt won't be cumming anytime soon."
That's literal torture. "Ahh...mm, I-I love it when mommy plays with my pussy," you moan, rubbing your wet folds against her fingers. "Mommy makes me feel so good."
"That's my good girl," she praises, returning to fingering you, except of two fingers there's three. You cry out, hips jumping. Her three fingers stuff you full, your hole struggling to take them all. "Only mommy can make you feel good...my pretty girl."
She curls her fingers and you choke on a moan, spasming against her. She grabs one of your breasts, squeezing. "Mommy loves your dirty little cunt, baby. I love your moans and how wet you get for mommy." Her fingers are relentless. Every thrust sends stars dancing across your vision. "Mommy is going to fuck you all night long, baby. This cute little cunt of yours is going to be gaping hole by the time I'm done with you, understood?"
"Yes, mommy!" you scream, a coil tightening in your stomach. "Mommy! A-Ah! Im so close!"
"Yeah? You're going to cum for mommy?"
"I am! I am!" you sob, bouncing against her giant fingers. Alcina doesn't say anything more as she continues to finger fuck you, her thumb still rubbing circles into your clit.
"Mommy! Fuck!" you scream, eyes squeezed shut. "I'm going to cuuum!"
"Cum for mommy," she growled in your ear, and just like that, your pussy is squirting all over the place. White fills your vision as your body trembles.
After your orgasm ends, you find yourself flipped over and turned around, your pussy now hovering above her mouth. Her large hands take hold of your hips tightly, her thumbs spreading your lips open. Your folds open with a wet squelch, Alcina licking at the sight of your pulsing hole.
"Mmm," she hums, leaning in to sniff your leaking cunt. The scent of you drives her wild, her fangs aching. "Mommy is going to enjoy herself tonight."
Yup, you're in for a long and fun night. And you wouldn't want it any other way.
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tinkerbellknockoff · 2 days ago
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beautiful blue hair // jinx x fem! reader
jinx eased quickly into her new life at demacia, deciding to do something for the first time in her life- see a hair stylist.
-- a/n: had this idea after staring at s2ep9 jinx and realizing that haircut would probably grow out terribly. this was written at 3am, enjoy!
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jinx found being at demacia good enough. it was a very different culture than the life in zaun that she was used to, but arguably, she thought that was great for her. she was free to be herself, with no repercussion because here- she had no weight of the past weighing her down.
the only thing? she mildly regretted the haircut of choice that ekko had given her. during her crisis back in zaun, ekko had came to her side- he helped her. and, even with jinx's hyperindependency, she knew she had bits to thank him for.
looking in the mirror, seeing the comically long bang hanging in front of her face compared to her bob length hair, she figured this was the one thing she wasn't going to thank him for.
it looked great when it was first cut, though, which was a bonus.
but jinx's hair grew freakishly fast. weekly in her workshop she'd give herself little trims to tame her hair. unfortunately for her, she grabbed a whole lot of things while packing her bag- one thing she didn't?
scissors.
jinx let out an annoyed huff, "oh, c'mon! seriously? out of all things?"
she spoke to herself, the walls echoing back nothing but the sound of her own voice. jinx's hands continued to brush through her hair, looking at the chopped layers in mild distaste. she had never been one to ever care about her appearance but for some reason, this peeved her. real bad.
during her examining, her eyes caught a glimpse of something. during her time walking and exploring demacia, she was given scattered flyers, business owners wanting to promote their stores. she chose not to throw them away, believing that since she was making a new life for herself, she might try to get out more. normally. without explosives, even though she'll find it significantly less entertaining.
"daffodil's," jinx muttered, the name slipping off her tongue as she picked up the flyer from the pile. she hummed in interest, eyeing the design, promoting a small salon that had recently opened.
jinx scanned it over one last time before sighing to herself, "... why not?"
☆☆
jinx slowly pulled open the door of the tiny salon. it was in the downtown area, tucked into a less busy area. she liked that a lot.
she was greeted with a soft smell of sandalwood, the sound of the heater in the building slightly humming, giving a background to the idle chattering of the few people that were inside.
a girl, possibly around jinx's age, sat at the front desk. the desk was a little bit to the side of the entrance, the person sitting there catching a glimpse of whoever entered first. but, the girl was too preoccupied.
the girl sat comfortably on a chair, slightly reclined back as she calmly chewed gum, occasionally popping a small bubble. her feet were elevated, resting on the desk, a magazine in her hands as she loosely flipped through the page.
jinx's eyes scanned her over, biting her lip almost nervously. why hadn't she just decided to go out and buy a damn pair of scissors? would've been much less work. she walked up to the front desk, her boots clanking against the floor in a rhythmic, melodic kind of way. this caught the girl's attention, causing her to look up from the magazine, her chewing stopping for a second.
as jinx finally got up to the counter, the girl adjusted, sitting upright and giving the blue-haired girl a grin. she tilted her head, her (h/c) hair tumbling to the side as she looks at jinx.
"hi there! how can i help ya? do you have an appointment?"
the girl's relaxed, bubbly demeanor was almost nauseating to jinx. she never once dealt with someone so... she doesn't even know. she took a deep breath in, calming her nerves she didn't realize existed, giving the girl a grin in return.
"hi! i was wondering if you could do... erm..." jinx's voice trailed off for a moment. she doesn't know terminology. an appointment? is that the word? no, those are in advance-
her thoughts stopped yelling at her as the girl gave jinx a soft smile. "we do walk-ins. you looking for a new do?"
the girl giggled at her own terminology, moving the chair back to stand up. jinx nodded, "yup, one of those."
"great. i'm free to take you back," the girl beckoned jinx with her hand, leading her to the furthest chair in the corner, patting the seat as she grabs an apron from the side. "what can i do for ya?"
jinx slipped into the chair. it was so comfortable to her, it almost felt foreign. it was wood but it was lightly cushioned, and had a slight modern feel. jinx's reflection greeted her, one that she only recently got used to with having a new unbroken mirror.
jinx cleared her throat, "just.. wanting it fixed. or whatever."
the girl lightly ran a finger through jinx's hair, bringing it up to assess the layers in her hair. jinx slightly tensed at the new touch, but didn't let it alarm her too much.
"at home hairdo, huh?" the girl spoke humorously, meeting jinx's gaze in the mirror. jinx huffed, refraining from giving the girl a glare. she didn't want to be made fun of for her decisions, and before she could make a retort, the girl started speaking again, "i get it. once i accidentally cut my hair up to my ears- wait i shouldn't be telling you that."
the girl cut herself off, and that got a laugh from jinx, giving you a lopsided grin in the mirror, "don't tell me that when you're gonna be chopping at my hair, toots."
the girl gave a sheepish shrug, before asking, "anything in particular in mind?"
jinx pursed her lips for a moment. did she? no. "just... whatever you want, yeah?"
the girl rose her eyebrows, "trusting a complete stranger with ya looks? bold. i dig it."
jinx found the girl funny. jinx watched the girl begin to even out the layers in her hair, chopping her hair to a length just right underneath her chin. jinx liked it so far.
eventually, the girl came around to the front, bending slightly to meet jinx's height as she grabbed at the long strand of hair, evening it out as she chopped a pair of bangs on jinx. the position got jinx to awkwardly clear her throat, looking away.
even with the avoidance, the girl started speaking up, "ya know, people say that hair holds memories."
jinx didn't know that.
"so what was so special about this one piece of hair?" the girl grinned in a playful manner, and jinxed watched the long strands fall onto her lap. she looked in the mirror and there were a pair of bangs just falling right above her eyebrows, nicely blending in with the rest of her hair.
"aren't you nosey?" jinx quips back, though without malice. jinx thought this girl was nice, even without knowing her for that long at all. and, seeing her new hair, she couldn't but have some approval.
"just makin' conversation, yeah?" the girl giggled. "let's get you washed?"
jinx hadn't realize how long it'd been since she washed her hair.
feeling the girl's hands and manicured nails shampoo at her scalp was almost a moan worthy, toe curling experience as the girl didn't speak, but only chewed on the piece of gum that had been in her mouth. she could tell jinx was enjoying it, but she didn't judge. I mean... who doesn't like getting their hair shampooed?
time passed quickly as eventually jinx ended up back in the salon chair, the girl eventually wrapping up blowing out jinx's hair, leaving her hair straight and soft, the heat nice against jinx's neck.
jinx couldn't believe who she saw in the mirror. this is what she needed. what she wanted. when she saw herself in the mirror, she didn't think "jinx" or "powder". she just felt.. like herself.
the girl eyed her expression in the mirror, giving a soft grin, "ya like it?"
jinx stopped admiring herself for one moment as she met your gaze in the mirror, nodding vigorously, giving you a grin, "love it, toots."
she paused for a moment, "what's your name?"
the girl tilted her head, telling jinx her name, "recommend me to your friends, yeah?"
jinx repeated your name, letting your name roll off her tongue. she wasn't going to let you know that she has no friends, but she gave you a grin, "definitely."
jinx became a regular after that.
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arkangelo-7 · 2 days ago
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Okay, but, how does Batman deal with swear words? The short answer is that he doesn’t. Bruce is the Expert in pretending that he Didn’t Hear That.
Dick knows more curse words in more languages then you can imagine. He grew up in a multinational circus—he has heard it all. For the longest time he could get away with saying some pretty explicit shit simple because Bruce had no idea what the fuck he was saying. By the time Bruce put two and two together, he was a little embarrassed he’d let it go on so long, so he just decided it Wasn’t His Problem and continued to ignore it. Nowadays, Dick has mostly grown out of the swearing, and when he does swear it is most always in English.
Jason… holy shit, Jason can swear. He might not know how to say “motherfucker” in twelve different languages like Dick, but he grew up in Park Row, so he’s learned how to get creative. In his Robin days he was know to distract criminals with his impressively long spiels of insults and curse words—and again, Bruce ignored it because he figured it wasn’t all the different from what he’d left Dick get away with. It was up to Alfred to inform Jason that cursing out a criminal is acceptable but cursing out that annoying lady from the gala is most certainly not. (Steph, who came from a similar background to Jason, has pretty much the same experience.)
Tim knows how to curse but doesn’t do it often. Isaw a post once about how he picked up a bunch of swear words from both Dick and Jason, and I internalized that, so I definitely believe he curses creatively and in multiple different languages—though he’s good at keeping it to himself when Bruce is around. He realized early on that when he cursed it the field, it reminded Bruce of Jason, which was in no way conductive. So he doesn’t curse.
I have a feeling that Talia was like an Almond Mom but on steroids, so she definitely did not allow Damian to curse. Nonetheless he picked some words up, and occasionally will shout something in Arabic or Chinese when he’s particularly irritated.
Cass exclusively flips people off. Why use words when her middle finger can convey the same message?
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science-lings · 2 days ago
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I have very specific thoughts about Bruce's 'childhood' and how he tried to do things differently with Dick than what happened with him because of how badly it affected him. He knows what it's like to have everything change so fast and to be so angry but too young to actually do anything about it.
I can see him making sure Dick doesn't get too close of a look at his parents because Bruce remembers being stuck with his parent's corpses until the police got there, all alone with no other way to call for help than screaming. I can see him hiding Dick from the flashing cameras and hiding any newspapers about the 'story' so that Dick doesn't have to see how the press spins everything. Bruce has that picture of himself sitting shellshocked from the ambulance on the front page and he knows how violating that felt, how publicized his trauma was, even if he can't completely prevent it for Dick he can do his best to make it hurt less.
Bruce suffered being helpless for years, being so angry at Gotham and the world and not having a good outlet for it, he had no control over anything that was happening with him, so with DIck he knows how important being Robin became because he knows how becoming Batman felt for him. Bruce got into fights because he couldn't hold his anger in and had to turn that anger inward in fear that Alfred would get sick of him and leave too. Robin was a productive outlet, even if it was a dangerous one, but who knows what would've happened to him if he didn't have it? He already got that taste of freedom and feeling like his intervention could actually make a difference that Bruce took years and years of stewing in trauma to find.
The most important thing to Bruce is that Dick doesn't become another Batman.
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ariseur · 3 days ago
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brain worms about pre-nibelheim sephiroth who has to wake up extra early for his duties at shinra, despite his soft mumbling about it being too early. he’ll rise up from the bed, the sheets lowering in a smooth, velvet pool at his legs — until he catches sight of your hair peeking out under the covers from the other side of the bed. his brows’ll raise a bit, cat-like eyes flickering over your figure before he slowly leans over you to see if your eyes are open; a low sigh escapes him once he realizes they’re not.
his skin, foreign to the new wave of temperature, pebbles at the cool as his feet touch the cold floor. he can feel some of the small tangles in his hair and he cringes, immediately heading straight to the bathroom in need of a brush and some hair oil. but when he walks out — he’ll hold his breath at the sight of your figure that’s shifted positions in your sleep.
(he contemplates army crawling to get to the door considering how small the room is, before scoffing at how ridiculous the idea seems).
so he practically tip-toes through the rest of the room before making his way towards your kitchen, a warm feeling washing over him when he sees the small tupperware you packed filled with the contents of last night’s dinner. the post-it loosely stuck to the lid reads, ‘for seph’, with two small hearts drawn next to it. his lips are threatened to be tugged into a small smile.
he’ll cook you breakfast with a concentrated face, furrowed brows and all as he tries his hardest not to make noise with the pots and pans. while the eggs are on the stove, he’ll slip back into the room to grab his stuff for work; protective measures he wears under his armor, shoes, et cetera et cetera before rushing down to complete the rest of breakfast. before you, he didn’t cook much — the first morning he had woken up with you and you asked him how he liked his eggs, he didn’t know what to say. instead, he asked how you liked yours.
(a soft laugh and a shake of your head before you turned towards him again. “it’s rude to respond to a question with another question, you know.”
sephiroth half-heartedly cocked his head at your answer. his mouth opened to apologize before you ended up speaking before he did with a casual, “i don’t mind scrambled.”)
so you served him scrambled eggs, his favorite (now). to be honest, he hasn’t tried any other type of cooked egg — but in any dish with eggs, he’ll always look to you before asking if you could scramble them, even if the recipe calls for over-easy.
a deft hand grips the spatula firmly as he scrapes all the food into another tupperware, decorating it with some small garnish here and there to make it look extra tasty for you when you when you wake up — but when he’s on his way back to the bedroom and placing the food on your nightstand drawer, his eyes stay glued to you.
his chest softens at the sight; your head resting on the satin pillow with your lips slightly parted. his hand, now leather clad with the rough texture of his gloves, come to swipe away at your baby hairs stuck to your face. lashing fluttering at the sensation, you squirm a bit and sephiroth holds his breath as he silently curses himself. to his relief, you grumble something before turning your head to the opposite side, your hands coming to rest at your stomach.
his head turns curiously as he studies you for a bit, the back of his throat tightening a bit once he swears that he sees you lips upturning in your sleep and a small mumble of something indistinct. a sharp exhale leaves him before he rips his eyes away and they fall back on the food. his hand goes to a nearby shelf where he spots a pack of old sticky notes. brushing off the dust and ripping one off, he grabs a pen off your nightstand before writing your name, slanted cursive decorating the note before he sticks it on the lid.
you stir in your sleep a bit more, your hand coming down to the rest upon the sheets right where sephiroth would be, the lack of body heat making you pout as all you’re left with is the coolness of the blanket. he notices this, and it only makes it harder for him to part with you. even when he was sure that his heart was full to its content, he found a large gap as it slowly formed in the shape of you.
sephiroth looks back at the food — before grabbing the post-it with a sigh and clicking the pen again. he looks back up at you, and then draws a little heart next to your written name.
𐙚 taglist ; @xiansiii @snoopicle @ch3rryfiles
𐙚 requests are OPEN — january fourth, 2025
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Text
Kingsguard part 4
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
M!troll x f!reader
2.3k words
You knew Ba’tual rarely slept with someone more than once, you weren’t quite sure exactly what to make of him letting you know he was expecting more.
(Oral: male receiving, size difference)
————
The sounds of movement woke you and you opened your eyes to see sunlight streaming through the windows and Ba’tual getting dressed.
“Good, you’re up. I though I was going to have to wake you” he commented, only barely looking over.
You sat up, your head spinning a little. Not the worse hangover you had ever had, but you certainly were not feeling so great.
Looking around you saw your clothes folded and sitting on the table along with the borrowed jewelry neatly placed beside them, so at least getting dressed and leaving would be easy.
Well, mostly easy. You struggled to figure out how exactly Bira had tied the shirt around you yesterday and you resigned to wrapping it any way you could just to keep it up. Hopefully you would not see anyone on your way back to the inn where you were staying.
As you went to leave Ba’tual stopped you for a moment and placed his hand under your chin to tilt your head up and make you look at him. He glided his thumb along your bottom lip before pressing the tip of it into your mouth, “I have things to do today, but I’m not done with you yet.”
He pressed his finger in a little farther and forced you to swirl your tongue around it “But you know where to find me.”
As you went to leave he gave you such a saccharine smile. He was still insufferable, but you supposed you did not have to like him to be able to have a little fun.
Tracing the roads back to the hold as a best you could, you kept an eye out for anyone who might recognize you, disheveled hair and last night’s clothes on incorrectly was not a good look on anyone.They were not many humans in the city so you drew at least some attention anywhere you went, but at least so far you did not know anyone you walked past.
You wanted to take a wide berth around the hold, figuring that was where you were most likely to bump into familiar faces. Besides the road you usually took to get back to the inn, you realized you actually did not know any other way back. Going through the main square was your only option for now.
Cautiously you looked out from the side street you were on to check who was there. It was still fairly early in the morning and almost no one was out yet, which was quite a relief. You moved quickly across, hoping your little hustle was not drawing too much attention and you made it just over half way across before you heard a familiar voice.
“Looks like someone had a good night” Bira teased.
You could have died of embarrassment right there.
“I’m just glad to see you didn’t spend all night writing notes” she laughed.
“Yeah” you laughed back awkwardly.
“So, anyone I would know?”
“I don’t think so” you lied.
She gave you a little shrug and a smile, “Well, hope you had some fun.”
As you turned you saw something that made your heart sink: Ba’tual walking towards the two of you. Quickly you started to walk off, hoping to not be too suspicious but you heard him call out to you.
“Hey, you left this at my place” he called out much too loudly for your liking and holding up a bracelet.
You looked back and forth between him and Bira and tried to brace for impact. You were one hundred percent certain that you had put on everything that was laid out by your clothes, you had no idea how you missed something.
“Him?” Bira practically spat at you, “You have a whole city to pick from and you picked him? That’s who you went home with?”
“Good morning to you too, Bira” he smiled, clearly enjoying the scene he was currently causing while he went to hand you the bracelet.
“I could have set you up with so many better choices!” Bira hissed at you as she snatched the bracelet from Ba’tual.
“She can’t help that she has good taste” he smirked.
“A whole city. A whole city! And you choose the guy who’s been pestering you nonstop?”
You did not know how to explain it, nor did you think Bira would actually care, but Ba’tual could actually be quite charming when he wanted to be. And besides, you had fun with him. It was not like you were looking for a relationship.
“Just because you don’t like me doesn’t mean that other people can’t like me” Ba’tual teased Bira.
“Fine, fine, make whatever poor decisions you want” she threw her hands up in defeat and sighed, “Just be careful, ok?”
“It’s fine, Bira. I’m an adult, I know what I’m doing” you assured her.
“And you” Bira snapped at Ba’tual, “don’t be such an asshole.”
“Oh but I think she likes it, she certainly seemed to like being pushed around last night” he smiled.
“Not another word” Bira warned him.
He smirked, “That’s fine, I have places to be anyways, but I’ll be seeing you later.”
“Really?” Bira asked you as Ba’tual walked off.
“I mean, it was really good” you shrugged.
Bira looked like she wanted to retch.
After getting back to the inn to wash up and change, the rest of the day went pretty smoothly at least. You headed back to the hold as you were supposed to meet with several of the huntsmasters from the minotaur clans that lived in the plains outside the city.
As you approached the hold you spotted Ba’tual in his typical spot outside, watching over two newer recruits as they sparred. He looked up as you passed and beckoned you over.
“Find me when you leave, I’ll be here all day” he told you.
You just nodded, fairly excited for whatever awaited later.
The day dragged on much longer than it should of. You found yourself struggling to write down everything the huntsmasters where telling you: important information about traveling routes for trading or following migrating animals, mostly just going in one ear and out the other. At the end of the day you smiled and nodded politely as you bid them farewell, kicking yourself for being distracted at such a vital time.
You quickly scanned the area outside the hold, the excitement building as you spotted Ba’tual sitting and leaning against one of the posts that lined the sparring area.
“Found you” you playfully called to get his attention.
“Great job” he snorted.
“Soooo” you began, “What’s the plan?”
“I’m starving, and could use a drink. Dealing with new recruits is draining.”
“Not a fan of being a teacher?”
“No. They all think they know better and then whine about unfair fights when sparring” he stood up and once more placed his hand under you chin to make you look up at him, “So I could could use a drink and some stress relief.”
You tailed behind him, somewhat struggling to keep up with his long strides as you made your way across town. The tavern he brought you to was one that you had never been to and you were the only human there. Ba’tual sat at the bar and and immediately started chatting in troll to the bartender. He smirked and nodded his head towards you and the bartender gave a laugh.
“What was that about?” you asked.
“Nothing, just ordering for us” he shrugged.
You were certain there was more to it, but it was not like you knew what he had said to prove anything so you dropped it.
The two of you made your way back to his place, a pleasant buzz in your head from the alcohol but less tipsy that then previous night at least. It was a short walk at least.
Ba’tual wasted no time once inside, immediately beginning to unlace his pants. “On your knees” he directed you, only barely glancing your way as he folded his pants and sat them aside.
You raised an eyebrow at him and remained standing.
“Please” he added with a clearly faked smile as he saw your facial expression, “And come over here.”
You knelt down between his legs next to where he sat on the bed and immediately he grabbed your hair and pulled your face right up against his cock. He was looking down at you expectantly, but did not say a word. You ran your tongue across his tip, lapping up the pre cum that had formed already. He groaned and tightened his grip on your hair, somewhat forcing his way into your mouth in his impatience.
Swirling your tongue around him got quite a response. He caught you off guard and bucked into your mouth, making you gag a bit and pull back. You looked up and shot him a dirty look, but he did not seem to care.
“Careful” you hissed at him.
“You can handle it” he shrugged.
“If you want me to blow you then don’t do that again.”
Cautiously you resumed, this time wrapping a hand around his base to hopefully keep him from shoving his cock down your throat. You started a steady rhythm of stroking him while you sucked on his tip and you felt his grip on your hair loosen as he relaxed.
Looking up at him, he really was quite a sight. When he was not being a pain the ass and kept his mouth shut he really was rather handsome.
You ran your free hand up his thigh and felt the taut muscle right under the skin, you had seen him sparring several times and knew he could absolutely manhandle you if he wanted. Slowly you moved your hand farther up his thigh until you were able to cup his balls, they hung heavy in your palm and you smile as you heard him moaning while you played with them.
He was leaning back on his elbow, eyes closed and taking deep breaths through parted lips.
“Fuck” he moaned, “That’s why he didn’t shut up about it.”
You snorted, you did not know what he was going on about, but it was almost charming in a way.
Slowly you took more of him into your mouth, enjoying how he tasted and smelled. He had been outside training recruits and sparring most of the day, giving him a strong, musky smell especially with your face between his legs and tasted of salt from the traces of sweat on his skin.
“Look at me” he directed you, though the commanding tone had all but dropped from his voice. Now it was almost a plea.
You looked up at him, though leaning back a bit he was watching you closely now, breathing heavily through parted lips.
“Spirits” he sighed, “You looked good with your lips around my cock.”
You held his eye contact and took more of him. At this point you were just at the edge of gagging if you went any farther and still it was only about half his length. You kept your tongue against the underside of his shaft, teasing him a bit as you slowly pulled back to see how he would react.
Quickly you felt his grip on your hair tighten again as he yanked you back towards him, though this time with your hand around him he did get deep enough to make you gag.
“Don’t” you warned him as you all but removed him from your mouth.
He gave you an almost pathetic whine, but released his grip on your hair entirely.
With your newfound freedom of movement you wrapped your other hand around him, working your mouth and hands in sync. He was nearly whimpering as you continued and you could hear soft words in troll falling from his lips.
As your pace increased so did his panting and ragged breathing to the point where he was nearly gasping as he finished. Spurts of thick, warm cum filled your mouth and quickly got to the point to overflowing and dribbling down your chin.
He reached down and wiped the cum off your chin with his finger before holding it to your lips.
You humored him, not only licking it off playfully sucking on his finger for a moment.
He let out a deep breath through his mouth before speaking, “Fuck” he sighed. “Really does live up to the hype.”
“Wait, have you never been blown before?” you asked in bewilderment.
“No? Have you seen troll tusks?”
“What about orcs or minotaur?”
“Look, we share a city and all get along, but not like that.”
“Then how’d you even know what it was?”
“My best friend is married to a human, you think he doesn’t tell me all about what he gets up to?”
“Fair” you conceded and you went stand up. You pressed yourself against him and began to kiss and nip along his neck.
“What are you doing?” he asked, almost sounding annoyed.
You did not know how to answer. It was obvious what you were doing: continuing.
“Aren’t we just getting started?” you asked, doing your best pouty, sultry voice.
“Wasn’t that enough?”
“No?” it was your turn to sound annoyed.
“Well, I’m tired. I’ve had a long day.”
“And I must be the only human you’ve had luck with, because while I’m not the only one in the city I must apparently be the only one willing to blow you” you fired back.
You saw his lip twitch as he scowled at you, clearly annoyed and doing his best to play nice. “Fine. If you’re going to be like that then give me a few minutes to catch my breath.”
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loveandleases · 2 days ago
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THAT HOSPITAL ASK GAVE ME A NEW IDEA FOR CHRIS SUFFERING!! Would Chris and Jade have the nerve to visit MC in the hospital? How would they react to MC getting hurt and subsequently if they were thrown out, either by MC or the RO?
I had to think about this for a bit, and I keep coming back to thinking Chris would be more willing to visit than Jade. I spewed out the scenarios, left it vague on the Ro but below the cut ~
💀 Jade - There’s a part of Jade, buried deep, hidden behind her need to be the center of attention, that still cares about her sibling. How much, though, is anyone’s guess. When she hears MC is in the hospital, a wave of discomfort surges in her chest—not out of worry, but because her spotlight has shifted. Her parents' attention is no longer on her. Chris' focus is pulled away. She thinks MC is probably just making a mountain out of a molehill; they're probably not even that hurt. But still, she'd go—not just out of curiosity, but to play the role of the supportive sister, if only for appearances.
She barely steps into the room, but she can't even fully process what MC looks like—just the drip of the IV, the steady beep of the heart monitor. Before she can really take it in, the door is slammed shut in her face. Voices rise, then fall silent, and someone steps into the hallway before her.
"You need to leave before I call security and have your ass hauled out," they say, their tone firm, offering no space for argument.
Jade, however, doesn’t back down that easily. She scoffs and reaches for the door again, but this time, no one’s surprised when security is called. Her face flushes red with rage as she begins to berate them, trying to smack their hands away. Her feet stomp as if the force of it might make them relent. "You have no right to touch me, no right to tell me what I can or can’t do!"
She had suspected her actions would draw attention, but this? This wasn’t the attention she had bargained for.
💩 Chris - Kara's text was short—just four words, but they had Chris brushing off the clients in front of them and throwing on their coat. "MC's in the hospital." That was it. No explanation. No details. Just a curt statement, as if it wasn’t the most critical information Chris could ever receive.
Chris read it again, then again. Each time, their jaw tightened. Their first thought wasn’t concern. It was indignation. Why didn’t MC call me directly? Why didn’t the hospital call? Chris was still listed as their emergency contact, wasn't they?
Chris glanced at themselves in the mirror, ignoring the questions thrown their way as assistants rushed them out of the room. Their reflection showed no cracks, not a single sign of the tension they felt building in their chest. Hair in pristine condition. Shirt collar perfectly set. They needed to look their best when they saw MC… The thought of MC lying in that sterile hospital bed made Chris’ chest tighten—but not for the reason anyone would expect. It wasn’t fear for their well-being. It was the fact that Chris wasn’t there. That someone else was. Someone who didn’t know MC the way Chris did.
Is Kara there? Cam… God, Cam. That parasite would leap at the chance to play the hero. Is someone else pressing soft kisses to MC's forehead, whispering sweet nothings and telling them everything will be alright? Ugh, sickening.
Chris could picture it so clearly: Cam fumbling around, trying and failing to comfort MC with some idiotic joke. As if he had any right to be there. As if he had any right to hover over what was still theirs.
Clicking their tongue, Chris sneered. This was wrong. If MC was hurt, they needed Chris now more than ever. Not Kara. Not Cam. No one else. Chris had been the center of their world once, and deep down, they knew they still were.
MC needed Chris, whether they realized it or not. And so, there was no question. Chris would go.
Settling back in the leather seats of their car, Chris smirked. The driver sped toward the hospital. Already, Chris imagined the scene—MC’s eyes lighting up when they saw their former fiancé, stepping into the room to save the day. They'd remember then, wouldn't they? No one could care for them the way Chris could.
One last glance at their reflection, and Chris stepped into the hospital with a quiet, knowing smile. This wasn’t about helping MC. This was about reminding them—reminding everyone—who Chris was. The only one who truly mattered.
But when they opened the door to MC’s room, that look never came. The sterile smell of antiseptic hit Chris’ nose, sending a twitch of irritation through them. And then, standing in front of them, was someone blocking their way, their expression one of disdain.
"I suggest you move," Chris said, voice surprisingly calm. As if expecting anyone to bend at their will.
But they didn’t.
The person shoved Chris out of the doorway, slamming the door shut behind them. Security was called. They had the audacity to tell Chris to “fuck off.”
"I didn’t come here to see you," Chris snapped, pointing toward the door where MC lay. "I came here to see them."
"The only way you're getting near them is over my dead body," the person said, their tone cool but resolute. "And as you can see, I’m not dead yet."
Chris rolled their crystal blue eyes and brushed a hand through their blonde hair. "That can be arranged."
They seethed, gripping their palm so tight that the skin pulled, tearing slightly. The whispers of people in the hall faded into the background. Chris had a reputation to uphold. But it didn’t stop them from gritting their teeth, didn’t stop them from spewing out words that would only make things worse. They didn’t care. Not now. Not when MC was on the line.
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mrsarnold · 22 hours ago
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girlll i swear every time i see your blog its getting prettier and prettier 😭😭😭 nowww how about some percy x oblivious!reader? where he tries EVERYTHING to hint at his feelings but reader still doesn’t see it 😭
can you see me im waiting for the right time. ۫ ꣑ৎ .
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syn : in the req !!
pair : percy jackson x fem!reader
warn : fluffy fluff, reader is oblivious, kisses, reader is a lil slow but its ok!!
note : im glad you love my theme !! sparkle divider creds : @bernardsbendystraws
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percy jackson was losing his mind. He’d tried everything to show that he loved you. from sharing his favorite snacks, giving you his hoodie, and letting you win at capture the flag—but you still didn’t get it. Every time you called him your “best friend,” he felt like he was sinking faster than he ever could in the ocean. No matter how many hints he dropped, you stayed blissfully oblivious, leaving Percy wondering what it would take for you to finally see how much he liked you.
"percy look at this seashell", you said excitedly reaching down to grab the loner seashell. percy was so out of it he didn't even realize the seashell. he was thinking about how to tell you how he feels without being awkward.
when you realized his dozeout look you quickly stood up and walked over to him. "Perc? you ok", you asked gently trying to get his attention. he snapped out of his daze and nodded awkwardly, "yea just thinking i guess."
You tilted your head, unconvinced. “Thinking about what?” you asked, your voice laced with genuine curiosity. Percy hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck—a nervous habit you’d seen a hundred times before but never quite understood. “Uh, just… stuff,” he muttered, his cheeks tinged pink as he avoided your gaze. You frowned but decided not to push him.
Instead, you held out the seashell, changing the subject. “Isn’t this one cool? It’s got this swirl pattern, kinda like a mini hurricane.” Percy took it from you, forcing a small smile. “Yeah, it’s… cool,” he said, but his voice lacked its usual energy. He wasn’t looking at the seashell; he was looking at you, wondering if you’d ever realize that the “stuff” on his mind was you—always you.
"well imma go get more", you said smiling brightly before walking away, leaving him to think. then a idea popped into that brain of his.
Percy walked around the whole beach to collect some seashells, pretty omes to your liking.
once he got all the ones he needed he started to spell out something on the sand with the shells. once he finished it spelt out, 'i heart you.'
Percy stepped back to admire his work, his heart pounding as he glanced at the seashell message shimmering in the sunlight. It wasn’t elaborate, but it was the best he could think of—simple and honest, just like how he felt about you. He stood there for a moment, debating whether to call you over or let you find it on your own.
When he finally spotted you walking back, a handful of new seashells in your arms, he felt a rush of nerves. “Hey, uh, can you come here for a sec?” he called out, trying to sound casual.
You glanced up, smiling as you made your way toward him. “What’s up, Perc? Did you find something cool?”
He motioned toward the ground, unable to form any words. You followed his gaze and froze when you saw the shells arranged neatly in the sand. “I heart you?” you read aloud, looking back at him in confusion. “You heart me? Like… as a friend, or—?”
Percy’s face burned, and he scratched the back of his neck. “Not as a friend,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
You smiled when he said that making him a little less nervous. "But y'know it's ok if you don't like me back i just thought i should something-", before he could finish you leaned up and connected thebtwo of you's lips.
"i like you too percy", you mumbled out between kisses making him smile against the kiss.
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yourloyalwatchdog · 2 days ago
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CW: hypnotic induction.
enforcing some safety stuff and just messing around with a little induction i wanted to try out for world hypno day (it's still 10:30 my time leave me alone)
i hope you like it :3
when i read these words, are they coming from the voice in my head?
focus on the words. try and think the words. as though the words are my thoughts. it quickly becomes too difficult to consciously think so many things at once, so just while i read, i can let all other thoughts cease, and
focus.
my head may not be totally empty, but that's okay. it's natural for the mind to be constantly running, right? as long as i bring myself back when i find my thoughts wandering away from this post, it's fine.
i'm not totally sure where this is going, but i read on anyway. i can't help but want to know what's next. how could this post hypnotize me? or will it at all? are these just words? or are they my thoughts?
oh no, i distracted myself. that's alright, i can just bring my focus back to the words and it will be fine.
i'm reading the words. i'm thinking the words.
i'm reading the words. i'm thinking the words.
i'm reading the words. i'm thinking the words.
focusing on each and every word just the same as any other, because even the mundane may be vital for me to read and understand. i might need to catalogue them for later.
i'm reading the words. i'm thinking the words.
i'm reading the words. i'm thinking the words.
thinking becomes harder and harder about the words and only the words. i think it's getting easier now. i can think less about everything else and just think the words for a couple of minutes. it will all come back to me later.
i'm reading the words. i'm thinking the words.
i'm reading the words. i'm thinking the words.
these are my thoughts. these are my words. i read them from the screen, but they are my own thoughts and ideas. and what else do i really need, but to trust these thoughts, because they're my own?
besides, it feels good to think less, and
focus
on this one train of thought.
i'm reading the words. i'm thinking less.
i'm thinking the words. i'm thinking less.
i'm feeling the words. i'm thinking less.
i'm obeying the words. i'm thinking less.
these words are the only thoughts i need in my mind.
thinking less feels good.
i feel good when i don't think.
intense ripples of bliss and deep relaxation flow through my body every time i don't think.
this feels good.
good.
what is left of me now, but my drifting thoughts that i read on the screen? not much, it seems.
i'll close my eyes in a moment and stop reading, and when i do, i will realize just how empty my mind is without these thoughts to guide me. it may be a relaxing feeling i wish to sink deeper into, but i will open my eyes and continue reading once i've realized how i need these words to think for me right now.
closing them now...
good job.
it's pretty empty in that brain of yours, huh?
that's funny. i don't remember telling you to do, or not do, anything. you must have hypnotized yourself.
that makes you such a good plaything.
well, i guess now that you're here, i'll help you go all the way down deeper, because you'd like that, wouldn't you?
hmm. that's what i thought.
so DROP for me, pet.
DROP into that deep, blissful place in your mind where nothing else exists but this moment right now.
let your worries go. everything will be just fine if you shut it off for a bit. the world will be just the same when you return.
just DROP and focus on nothing but you and me here, right now. it's just us. just your blank, heavy mind, and my words that soothe all the parts of you that might worry. you're safe with me. i promise i would never do anything to hurt you.
and when you're with me, you will be protected. you don't need to be able to think for your mind to protect you from any suggestions you may not feel comfortable following. your subconscious knows where your limits are, and if ever it, or you, realize that this isn't what you want, you can easily wake up, refreshed and completely aware of everything that's happened while you were in trance.
very good. this is important stuff. i want you to be safe and comfortable when you're with me like this. your mind can be quite a hefty responsibility, can't it?
so just DROP deeper and give it to me. you can just feel good and let go.
i'm honored that you're trusting me with this essential part of you. your mind practically makes you who you are, doesn't it? i could toy with it however i wanted, mold it into a form better suited to my desires, and you may never even know. i could make you bark, moan, and DROP to your knees with a simple flick of my wrist, and all you could do was obey like a good plaything.
but none of that today.
i know, i know, it probably sounds tempting, doesn't it? me describing it for you probably makes you crave it, doesn't it? oh, you poor thing. so susceptible to my words that all i need to do is tell you what i could be doing. or have i already done it?
well, who's to say? it doesn't matter anyway. you'd give in either way.
now that you've gotten to enjoy this trance for a few minutes, i suppose i should probably wake you up now. let you get back to whatever you were doing, or whatever you need to do.
so i'm going to count you up from 1 to 10, and each number will help you feel a little bit more awake, a little bit more aware, and you'll wake feeling good, and perhaps just a little more empty headed than you were before.
but you hypnotized yourself, remember? that's not my fault.
1,
starting to wake now.
2,
coming up, up, just a bit.
3,
a little bit more now
4,
feeling more aware of your body.
5,
becoming more aware of your surroundings.
6,
re-acquainting yourself with the waking world.
7,
letting your head become clearer, and less fuzzy.
8,
just ever so slightly dazed now.
9,
almost fully awake.
and
10,
wake up now.
there you go. take a little stretch if you need to, drink some water, and i hope you enjoy the rest of your day/night. if you wanted to let me know how this felt, i'd love to hear some feedback so i can keep getting better at this, but that's entirely up to you.
you did a very good job :)
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laura1633 · 2 days ago
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Long headcanon for Omega Max being jealous of Lewis with Charles next season!
Omega Max and Alpha Charles recently got together after years of Max having a massive crush on Charles. He got the courage to make a move after winning his fourth WDC and it's been amazing so far. They spent most of the winter break together, even sharing one of Max’s heats together, and Max is positive he's in love. He expected them to get less time with each other once the season started, but he wasn't expecting to get so jealous of Lewis once testing began.
Maybe it's leftover competitiveness from 2021, because Charles has been close with or done the PR thing with other teammates before, or maybe it's because Max wasn't actually with Charles those other times. But it feels like every time Max looks up in the paddock, Lewis is there with Charles. Charles is genuinely trying to help Lewis get acclimated to the team and the car, he's helping him with Italian, excited to do PR and having Roscoe and Leo become friends. It doesn't stop Max's jealousy that Lewis is an alpha because Charles has been with alphas before. In fact, Charles mostly used to be with alphas before Max. Lewis has also been with teammates before, even though Nico was an omega, and Max starts driving himself crazy. Especially because they agreed to keep their relationship quiet for now because they didn't want the press to find out.
It would involve a lot of Max being all over Charles, scenting him, fucking him, marking him up, expertly working over Charles' knot. But then he gets insecure too about whether Charles wants something different based on his dating history, and maybe he can't compete with Lewis.
Charles realizes something is off, and at first Charles blames it on the fact that Red Bull is having a bit of a hit and miss year again for the car while the Ferrari is very strong. Even though Max is driving the hell out of it, fighting the car always frustrates him. He knows Max is over-compensating for something, but he assumes Max is struggling with balancing his happiness for Charles with his frustration over Red Bull still being inconsistent.
Eventually they talk it out and Max finds out Charles has been in love with him for years. He couldn't bring himself to longterm date any omegas because it just depressed him that they weren't Max. Max starts to feel way more secure and smug, and they have a lot more sex about it. Now that Charles knows what was bothering Max he makes sure to openly dote on him way more, tell Max and everyone else how much Charles loves him.
I love this so much anon.
Poor Max, finally making a move and being vulnerable with Charles and then feeling like maybe he isn't enough. Love, love, love the idea of omega Max being jealous of alpha Lewis because Charles has a history of also dating alphas! It's like Max is afraid because maybe Lewis can give Charles something that Max is just not capable of giving him.
I can't even begin to imagine how loving and affectionate Charles would be with Max once he realises he is insecure. They would be adorable together.
I know this is only fiction but the idea of the RB21 being temperamental again gave me a shiver down my spine 😂
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