#regardless of gender or anatomy

[thelovelycircusau]

Ironically the only ‘pie’ either of them are interested in is Jax for Ragatha’s ;-3

And Rags wants sum of Jax’s ‘Carrot’ …. For her…uh.. health! Yeah.. she’s on a .. a Diet, thats it! And nothing else…

🌸 Lady Jax & Ragatha

*TW: Slightly Suggestive & Alcoholism

Jax is 21 yrs old

Ragatha is 31 yrs old (she may or may not have been a Bartender before arriving..)

This is the art that bothered me- her head/face…eh? I hope it’s okay.. maybe I’m just insecure?

Also do you think this is too suggestive? I know when I attempt anything meant to be “Mature” it somehow ends up more wholesome or cute? But maybe that just fits this AU? What do you think? If you have thoughts or opinions pls respond in the notes! Yes I read them!

If you want to see what’s behind the censor bar, you’ll have to pay! (It’s not much, honestly, but figured better safe than sorry ^^;)

You can pay via any of the payment methods in my pinned post! Again, it’s not much, but if you simply must know, it just costs munies ^^

// Surprise Lore!

For those jumping the gun, Ragatha is literally ten years older than Jax, it’s just the body she got was a short ragdoll-ballerina. But as she’s her own person, she tends to drink alot (alot alpt..), tho also enjoys serving them, she even used to own her own bar.. before her business went belly up and she turned to the bottle. She also smokes cannabis, it helps her forget & relax ~

As for Jax, yes she’s a slut, but.. there’s reason for it, which you might learn about later on 😉

[insecateur]

I kmow jack and squat about legend of zelda, but do you think ganon is a transman/hc him as such?

i think you can do a lot of interesting things irt gender when it comes to ganondorf what with the whole plot point about him being the only male gerudo and all that. i think what the gerudos would consider to be "trans" would probably be different from the human (or i guess in-universe, hylian) understanding of it. i know @jonphaedrus has a lot of very interesting ideas about it!!

anyway tl;dr why not, i'm always down for trans headcanons!

[commander-ledi]

you’re hot and you kinda make me wish i was also a trans guy.

this is incredibly flattering and makes me feel even better about my body 🥺

[hazelfoureyes]

I'm not taking requests from anon but …. I will….always accept inspiration in my inbox. Just don’t expect a direct response.

I’m alive. Boooooy has shit been difficult and every day I kinda panic but I think survival mode is finally shutting off. I could list all the shit but why? It's not like we arent all wading through varying piles of shit on a weekly basis lately.

Curiosity

Alastor doesn’t believe sex can feel all that great for the ones being fucked. You offer to educate him on the matter with a little hands on learning. Everyone wins.

「Warnings/Promises: Alastor x PussyHaving!Reader (has pussy and is called girl but I mean…I don’t know their business), casual virginity loss, non-sexually repulsed alastor, insulting but highly accurate bowling ball analogy, cervix smooches, creampie because dessert is a necessity, friends with questionable benefits, missionary position, science???, almost fingering, thumb (Singular), empty death threats, saliva as lube」

Minors I will yeet you back into the year of the dragon if you ignore the MDNI 🐉

Alastor’s hooves kicked playfully, slowly, in the air behind him as he rested on his belly. Two clawed fingers kept your lower lips pulled apart as he stared inquisitively at your self consciously twitching entrance.

“People’s things fit in here? I could see fingers, sure. A thumb, maybe…”, he mused, watching you clench around nothing. He learned from Angel more than he liked to admit and things seemed to fit the best for human and hellish anatomy alike. 

A large digit prodded, his head lifting and eyes meeting yours from between your spread thighs. His look was waiting for your approval or dissent. You nodded, sighing out another educational tidbit, “It feels best if things are slick.”

Alastor paused before wrapping his tongue around his thumb and coating it with viscous black saliva. Thumbpad facing down, his curved claw slipped into you easily. The natural roundness of the edges kept you from any cuts, but you had a feeling it’d be easy enough to do harm if he wasnt mindful of how he moved it. 

You could feel his other fingers pressing flat against the bottom of your ass. Instinctively you tightened around the digit.

“It's snug.” He sighed, vindicated. It was far too small a hole to fit anything more without tearing. Therefore: painful. 

“Well, it stretches quite a bit. It can adapt to alot. You - ergh - people can use soda cans and twelve inch dildos even for pleasure.” You rested on your bed, naked from the waist down. Your conversations together were always very open and without shame, neither of you worried to offend the other with questions about sex and gender. So when Alastor mused he couldn’t understand what the pussy-possessors among society got out of sex (he could understand the pleasure of a good squeeze on a cock, even if he hadn’t ever experienced anything beyond a hot mouth and a tight fist) the conversation just naturally progressed to your own personal sex education class. He’d only ever seen such anatomy in medical texts.

He cackled, “You are naive if you think that is true.” 

“Alastor, who's the expert here? I - can you remove your thumb? I feel like a bowling ball.”

Too quickly he took back his finger, your shoulders lifting slightly from the bed from the sudden loss. He paused a moment before adding, “You and a bowling ball have the same number of finger-able holes.”

Your glare went unnoticed, Alastor shifting onto his elbows again.

“Do you think people would willingly have sex if it was always uncomfortable?” You were lifted up on your elbows now too. Locked eye to eye with a very smug deer demon. 

He hummed, humans were animals and all animals followed instinct. “Maaaaybeee.” He teased, eyes breaking contact to look again at the now closed lips. “Regardless,” a wicked grin, “I can’t imagine it fitting without damage and pain.”

A stalemate. 

“You have seen people have sex, right?” You asked.

An uncomfortable pause.

“Why on earth would I watch people have sex?”

Surprise, then confusion, but finally you settled on intrigue.

“Okay, do it. I’ll show you it feels good for me and you can wipe that smile off your face.”

He tutted, “Never.” Alastor saw your flash of insult, “to the smile. Delivering pain is a hobby of mine, no matter the vehicle!”

When he sat up on his knees you shot up and you blurted out, “Wait. Do you have like, hell syphilis or something? Are you clean?”

His hair bristled, “Do YOU have syphilis?!”

“No.” You said it plainly.

Head shaking imperceptibly, a subtle ‘no’ mixed with a silent ‘then why would I?!’ telegraphed via his glaring red eyes, “Me neither.”

A bad start. Speaking of…

“Do you know how to start?”

“Is it much different than my thumb?”

I hope so. 

“Not really.”

He sighed away the remnants of agitation — was he clean?? Really? — and unbuttoned his pants. When his hands paused on the elastic of his underwear your head tilted curiously.

A step you’d both forgotten, cocks inherently had no bones like helpful fingers. Why was the prospect of handling himself mortifying but entering you wasn’t? Very rarely did he find you someone to have any concerns about and never had he felt an ounce of judgment when he admitted his blind spots and areas of naïveté. 

But this was… a step beyond. Almost humiliating in a sense, the source of the feeling was buried deep and obscured by time and disinterest.

“I’ll help.” Sitting up further, your hands went forward before you yanked them back into your bubble, “If that’s alright.”

Perfect, if he wasn’t able to get it up it’d be your fault and not his, he thought.

Nodding, he let his hands come to rest at his sides as he sat back on his legs.

The newness was evident in how he didn’t consider the mechanics of the position. You struggled a little to get this black underwear down his hips enough to release his very unaware cock.

Lifting his hips again and allowing you to pull the briefs down as far as needed (which seemed too far, honestly), you finally had eyes on something you’d been passably curious about.

It wasn’t that he was unattractive but there was a guilt to lusting over Alastor. He’d made it painfully obvious he didn’t find anyone at the hotel sexually interesting. It just isn’t his bag, as Husk had explained. Perhaps liquor had your eyes lingering a little too long on the resident villain.

Nervous and sweaty palms seemed beneficial as you held his soft member. They always felt so silly like this. How useless. Floppy. Your amused smile wasn’t comforting him an ounce.

It twitched, Alastor’s hands fighting to not come to his face and let him disappear away.

“Cute.” You whispered as you wrapped a hand around the Newtonian fluid-esque cock. You didn’t see his horrified face, focused instead on the feel of his foreskin sliding beneath your fingers. Alastor’s attention, too, shifted. He needed to breathe normally and that required all hands on deck (no puns intended). He’d never let anyone in death touch —-

A soft glow of blue flickered somewhere deep in his mind, a sloppy memory of a drunken slip up

It’d been what felt like a lifetime since he’d let anyone put their hands on his body. 

And due to that time his body reacted quickly and soon you had a handful. You both took a relieved breath then, the hurdle mounted. A little shock of pleasure to your core as you stroked his now firm cock made you shiver. It was hot in your hands, how much of that heat would you feel in your guts soon? Would he put it in and just—- pop it out like he had his thumb?

You’d shoo him away shortly after and finish things yourself in that case.

Alastor’s hands lost the battle and came to cover his lower face. That hidden grin showed teeth and he clenched his jaw to keep from letting a mewl slip. His cock was leaking so much it was embarrassing him. 

“Now you’re just playing.” He hissed.

He wasn’t wrong.

Wordlessly you came to lie on your side, a roll to your stomach interrupted as you considered things. With a glance back at the virgin you decided basic was best and returned to your back. Nothing too exciting. 

“Whenever you’re ready, then.” The smugness oozed through your tone. You knew he didn’t know enough to figure out what ready was. 

Alastor parted your legs further with his own widening thighs as he lowered his center to line up with you. He recalled you telling him the hole was very close to the bottom and it hadn’t dawned on him how low that was until the muscles of his thighs burned with the split. How was he going to move like this, he wondered.

Another recollection — wetter is better.

And though he could see a glistening wetness readying to drop down between your cheeks, he wasn’t experienced enough to know just how much your body could self lubricate. So for good measure and out of a sweet ignorance he spit into his palm and rubbed it down his cock from head to root.

The sound made you clench again. Why was that so hot? You’d never kissed, nor held hands. But now his sweat and cum would be fucked into you. 

Another clench as that lightning lit up your core, back bowing slightly with the sensation.

Could overlords sense blood pressure or hear heartbeats? You werent sure, but suddenly you worried about it. You had to close your eyes and focus only on your breathing, unaware it was your turn to hide your true reactions. If you started panting now he’d laugh so hard he’d go soft.

But the truth was, you could begin beatboxing and he wouldnt notice it. He was scooting closer, lowering and then raising his hips again to find a position that he could hold.

Thank Lucifer he never wasted time with this before. 

Finally he lined up and let his held breath go. His cockhead was slick and slipped up between your lips and headbutted your clit when he tried to press in. 

Your shocked scream was stifled into a gritted cry, bringing the back of your hand up to silence yourself. It hurt a little at first but that faded quickly. You whispered a single, “fuck.”

If he wasn’t already cock out Alastor would have just left. But, that would mean saying he was wrong and failed. Which wasn’t going to happen so he slid his cock back down the way he went and pressed into you with false confidence he knew it would go in. 

He gasped when he breached your lips. You were so hot. And that snugness was back, head and just an inch of shaft sheathed but his brain felt like most of his body was being tightly embraced. 

You felt him twitching, and tried to fight back the instinct to tighten around him to feel that little bit of movement even better. It didn’t work.

He hissed a “don’t” when you clenched around him, but you barely heard it over your own little moan. Alastor leaned forward and let his hands rest on either side of your ribs. Head hidden behind long and hanging bangs you couldnt see how his face twisted in concentration. He could cum like this, just one little movement and he was sure he’d finish. Not a normal problem for him, but it's easy to have a 100% win rate for a game you played just a few times before.

Alastor’s body was stick straight above you. 

His body wasn’t touching you except for the cock in you. It was odd, like he was hovering. Would he fuck you without touching you? That seemed so like him.

“Well, color me surprised.” He finally spoke, words breathy. He didn’t smell an ounce of blood so he knew you hadn’t torn. Your body was relaxed beneath him, your upper chest flush. When he looked up you were peering down over your cheeks with parted lips. He’d seen such expressions before in paintings deemed too salacious for museums in his time. 

“It feels even better when you’re moving.” You offered. He didn’t have to continue now that you’d proven your point but you really wanted him to. You’d not been fucked in ages and this was a situation that wouldn’t happen again. “But if this is enough proof…” you trailed off. 

He could imagine it. The feeling of that tender and somehow gripping flesh hugging him tightly as he moved forward more…. And pulled out. His glands would catch, wouldn’t it hurt you then? Wouldn’t he be scraping your delicate insides?

Alastor began pressing further in. Your hands gripped the sheets slightly, your walls were pushed open by his now steel hard member and you could feel a pool of heat low in your womb. You needed him to hit it, to thrust forward and rut against your cervix. But you had to take it slow, this was about him answering his questions first and foremost. 

“It won’t go any further…” he leaned back and inspected the situation. Two inches or so remained out in the cold. 

You shifted your hips and could feel the resistance. “If you start,” you needed a second to gather yourself before saying the rest, “thrusting properly now you’ll be able to get the rest in soon.”

His brow cocked. 

He’d have to trust you on that one and simply keep going. There were still more ways to move within you, to see if the piercing friction really could make you feel good. A moan broke through his defenses when he pulled out until the glands of his cock felt caught on your entrance. 

Alastor’s body crumpled, the pleasure made his muscles go weak. It was as if he couldn’t control them at all. Dangerous. 

His hips bucked from the sensitivity, thrusting forward. Alastor’s head fell back with a sharp gasp. Before he could worry over how he looked his hips were starting a shaky and mistimed pace. Head falling forward again so he could look down at where you were joined, he groaned. His cock was disappearing, girth holding your cunt open as it clamped down against him.  

Alastor felt dizzy from the physical rapture and a helpful redirection of blood. His body was light; bright and weightless.

What a treacherous sensation. He could almost understand rakes* now. 

Your first real moan reminded him why he was doing what he was. Face shooting up from the shadow of his hair he watched yours. Your brow was furrowed slightly, but apart from how hard you were biting your bottom lip he didnt see anything pained in your expression. Your sounds definitely did not say you were being harmed in any way. 

As his cock pulled against your entrance again and rammed back in, he gained new ground just like you’d assured. Another hungry thrust and he was flush with your body. You choked out a noise and gripped the sheets hard. 

“Painful?,” he opted for a single word to avoid his voice cracking with uncontrolled radio static. Alastor slowed his pace out of caution, he enjoyed pain but not like this. He’d only been trying to shock you earlier with his comments when he said otherwise. 

Your hips rolled, pressing him deeper and rolling your eyes back. It earned you a flipping of radio stations softly in the air around you. A babbled, “No, no,” before you could find the sense to look at him, “You’re doing so well. It feels so good. Don’t stop.” Another roll of your body to feel his leaking slit digging into your cervix. That white hot pleasure was fading now to something less mind numbing but still worth chasing. He had you split open down the center and you needed to feel him moving deep within.  

‘Well, Fuck,’ Alastor thought. The mechanics didn’t make much sense but he was seeing undeniable proof. He shifted his hips until his lower stomach was pressing down onto you and let his own normally unwanted instincts take over. You asked him to not stop, after all. 

Fluidly now he could fuck you, lower back activated and driving himself home deeper. Soon he was grunting softly each time he bottomed out. Animalistic auto-pilot kept his pace even and punishing. 

A slurred ‘feels s’good’ tumbled from your still parted lips. 

He watched your neck muscles strain and face redden, you were holding your breath and he couldnt understand why. 

Eyes slipping closed he focused on your warmth, and he could hear the sound of his skin sticking and popping free from your core. A faint wetness to his thighs came into focus from the fuzzy edges of his mind. He felt like he was melting from the center outward. 

Alastor failed to say anything when his climax mounted because it blindsided him. He leaned back for leverage and held your thighs for grip. A few harsh slaps of his skin into yours, your body rocking up slightly with the force before you felt his own warm wetness filling you. A sensation that came in waves with each twitch of his cock. When his body stuttered and a few more thrusts chased his semen deeper into you, your feet kicked out in an uncontrollable spasm of pleasure. 

You took in a deep breath and pulled him closer with your legs as soon as you regained control. Alastor’s turn to fist the sheets, you working your thighs and core to ride him from your place on your back. A few more sharp inhales, pressure mounting to a daunting peak before you could make that string snap. It took a frenzied self fucking with Alastor’s now oversensitive cock but you managed to find some relief with a small orgasm.

Alastor didn’t need you to announce it for him to understand. A modest wave of embarrassment hit, not only was he woefully incorrect but the pleasure was apparently so great you’d chase more friction to reach your orgasm on a cock before just taking your own hand. Was it impolite to not have offered to help?

Your body went slack, muscles disengaging as your sweaty thighs and ass slid from his lap and down his legs. He was still bent over you and cock buried half in you, catching his breath.

“I suppose I should eat crow now. Your little flower is far more accommodating than I gave you credit for!” He pulled out in one go and you felt the rush of his seed spilling out after him. “Though you must admit there was a little discomfort.”

With a heavy sigh you nodded, “Sometimes a little bit makes it feel even better…” a swoosh and a twinkle was heard just past your knees but you didn't move to open your eyes.

A clawed finger booped your nose, “If you value your afterlife…”

A sharp stare to the fully dressed and unsticky radio demon knelt between your legs, you rolled your eyes at the empty threat he always gave you after your unfettered talks, “I won't tell a soul.”

“Good girl!”

*a rake is a rakehell (hell raiser), considered loose with morals for chasing women and drink.

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ⋆Masterlist.ೃ࿔*:･

˖  ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@eris-norwega @reath-solia @catticora , @angelicribbons , @xalygatorx

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei ,  @moonmark98

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog ,

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, @a-case-of-attachment, @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk   , @bontensbabygirl  @smoky000

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@ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby@dontfuckbutimfab @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12

[merakiui]

the symptoms of being human.

jade leech x (gender neutral) reader note - being human comes with its fair share of very specific symptoms. or: jade has lived in saltwater his entire life. never has it leaked out of him before. // HAPPIEST OF BIRTHDAYS TO MY BIRTHDAY BESTIE @heyyy11!!!!!! 🎉 many wonderful wishes of health, happiness, and good fortune for you!!!! :D it isn't a lot, but please enjoy this little gift i prepared in celebration!!!

But a mermaid has no tears, and therefore she suffers so much more.

A long time ago, a human penned that line in reference to merfolk and their inability to shed tears. A fact as intimate as that couldn’t have possibly been common knowledge amongst humans, or so Jade assumed every time the story was regurgitated at bedtime. He always did that: apply logic to areas where logic wasn’t needed. His teachers used to tell him, “Jade, sometimes you need to suspend your disbelief in order to immerse yourself in a fictional world.” He could try—and try he did—but he’d find himself lingering on that quote every time.

A slight amendment to that: merfolk can cry and they do suffer, but whether they suffer more is impossible to know without further study.

Jade operates under the notion that there are explanations for everything, even the wildest of lunacy. There is comfort in comprehension. He would spend hours holed up in his sleeping nook, poring over stories and texts on humans and beastfolk. He would compare and contrast them. Can a tearless cry indicate the amount of suffering per species, or is such an abstract concept even remotely quantifiable? Perhaps it is because merfolk cry silently that they suffer. Because there is no one who can hear their weeping in the deep sea. Because there is no physical proof.

It’s easier to recognize the physical signs of grief, for what happens within is shrouded in secrecy, veiled in the depths of the heart.

So when Jade comes onto land for the first time, human skin stretched over a skeleton altered with a potion, every inch awkward and aching, the sea leaks out of his pores. He feels like a pufferfish not yet expanded but on the verge of bloating, deflated and weak, salt still spilling. And he knows it’s salt because he swipes two fingers under his armpit and brings them to his mouth to taste. It’s saltwater.

He later learns, while sitting in Professor Crewel’s class and listening to him drone on about anatomy, that this is the phenomenon known as sweating. Jade sweats when he exerts himself, when his body temperature rises degrees over what’s internally comfortable and he needs to cool down, when he ingests something spicy, when he’s sick with a fever, when he’s stressed… It’s a fascinating facet of human biology he was previously unaware of.

Azul called these peculiarities “symptoms of being human,” and what intriguing symptoms they are! He hopes to experience even more as he completes his education on land, regardless of how troublesome they might be.

Having a symptom of something implies the affected is ill in some way—as if humanity itself is an illness and this human body serves as more of a hindrance than help. Jade will forever be an eel merman, and this body is just a clever cloak crafted to make his life on land habitable. Although there are moments where he thinks his original form would suit a certain task. Like swimming or any sport in the water, really. But he likes to struggle and fail, learning from every human mistake.

These symptoms are not terrible. Not to him, at least.

He meets you in the woods. You’re hunched over the ground, patting a compact lump of freshly disturbed soil. A burial, he thinks, but then he’s not certain. When you fashion a little marker out of sticks and ribbons, it occurs to him that he was right.

“Hello to you, too,” you say, turning to glance at him.

There’s something that stills in the air. A feeling catches and tugs at his heart. He can’t explain it—still can’t even to this day—but something trickles out of his eyes then. A droplet of water and then another and then more until silent streams are falling thick. He blinks until his once-blurry vision clears, only to find you’re looking at him fully now.

Jade gathers the wetness on his fingertips and licks curiously. Salt.

Horrifyingly, he’s sweating from his eyes.

He doesn’t panic. A grotesque part of him wants to know what else these eyes are capable of in this body. 

You draw in breath through your lips. A gasp. “Oh! Are you all right?”

He nods because even if his brain doesn’t understand it yet his heart does.

You are the person he’s going to spend the rest of his life with.

This isn’t fiction, and he doesn’t have to pretend to accept it as his temporary reality just to enjoy the story it promises. He knows. His heart—the eel-mer heart—knows. This salt is a symptom of being human, but a symptom of being a mer is that there is the strongest sixth sense for finding one’s other half.

“Are you sure?” you press, rising to your feet, digging through your bag for tissue. “You’re crying!”

He blinks back at you. I’m…crying.

He’s not sweating. He’s crying.

“Forgive me,” he says even though he knows there’s nothing to apologize for. “My eyes must not be working today.”

A sympathetic smile spreads on your face. “Did you come here with anyone?”

He shakes his head and explains rather simply that he’s come on account of club business. “I’m the only member in my club,” he elaborates unnecessarily, “and so I often come here to hike and forage. I suppose I wasn’t expecting to run into anyone on this route.”

“Club? You’re a student?” Before he has a chance to respond, you add, “No way! What school? I’m from Royal Sword.”

“Night Raven.”

“Whoa! That’s so cool. I’ve heard lots about that school. Oh, sorry, I’m totally chatting your ear off. If it’s not an issue, would you like to walk back together? Don’t take this the wrong way. I’m just worried about you.”

The affable conversation was so smooth Jade almost forgot he’s been leaking—crying—the entire time.

“Why would you be worried? I assure you there’s nothing in this forest that could harm me,” he says, holding a hand over his heart.

As if it isn’t the woods that might hurt him but, rather, the person standing in front of him. He has never felt any need to protect his heart, but now he thinks he must. If he’s to offer it to you in the future, he wants to do so when it is perfectly whole and packed full of happiness.

“Um… Well, I just don’t want you to do anything…harmful,” you say, stringing the words together awkwardly. “People care about you. They’d miss you.”

He glances past you at the burial. Just above, a nest of baby birds chirp noisily. He understands now.

“As it happens, I’m currently quite content.”

“You are?”

He tilts his head at you and smiles, teary-eyed and most likely red in the face.

“I am. Very much so. I’ve experienced another human symptom. I couldn’t be any happier.”

You exhale a quiet, semi-amused breath. “I’m glad.” Your hand is held out next. “I’m (Name). It’s nice to meet you.”

His webless, clawless hand closes around yours. “Jade Leech,” he greets.

— — —

“You look good,” Floyd compliments, watching Jade fuss over himself in the mirror. “Shrimpy’ll think so. And Mama. Pops, too.”

“So everyone,” he replies smartly, his hands shaking as he smooths the nonexistent wrinkles in his suit. They reach for the jewelry strung around his neck. He’s wearing his mother’s pearls. Tradition and memory are twined throughout each one. For every hand that holds this chain, a new pearl will be added. It has been in his family for ages. After today, he’ll add his and the necklace will be a pearl longer.

He feels like he needs to pace up and down a mountain. Like he needs to strip this seaweed-esque suit off and jump into the ocean to feel free of constriction. Clothes are always so…unique. That’s the word he chooses to use. Another symptom, he’s certain, because clothes are to humans as colors are to merfolk. Humans attract each other with fashion styles just as mers flash colors and patterns at those they intend to charm.

“Everyone,” Floyd echoes, grinning to ease the tension. “C’mon. You know everything’s gonna be fine.”

Logically, Jade is aware of that. There were rehearsals and lists and triple-checks. Everything is in order. He’s ready. You’re ready. Illogically, he thinks he’s about to shake out of his skin from either excitement or anxiety or a combination of both.

Floyd’s hand comes down upon his shoulder. He relaxes beneath the squeeze. “You got this.”

“I do,” he whispers, turning away from the mirror with a smile.

He waits for you at the altar. A feeling he knows well enough claws at the back of his eyes. It’s been steadily encroaching since this morning, or perhaps it’s always been there ever since he first met you.

When he sees you, his world comes together and everything is warm and wonderful. There are tears on his face, tracking down his cheeks in hot streaks. It’s not embarrassing even though, somewhat flustered, he mouths to his parents that he’s simply sweating from the eyes. A symptom they’ll soon experience in their temporary human bodies.

Out of every human symptom he’s experienced, he thinks this one is his favorite.

You meet him at the front, and beneath an awning of the prettiest flowers you join hands.

“How do you feel?” you murmur, your thumbs running over his palms.

He’s going to say he feels like his world is brighter and wrapped in silk—like he’s looking love right in the face.

Through his tears, he smiles and says, “Like my eyes are working properly today.”

You giggle around a rising sob. Happy tears, he notes, much like the ones sticking to his face. “Weird. Because mine don’t seem to be working today.”

“A shame. You can’t see how beautiful you are.”

“I trust you.”

“I can’t promise mine won’t sweat halfway through the ceremony, but I appreciate your faith in me.”

“It’s fine. Mine are already doing that.”

And it’s everything to him—you, this union, the tears, these messy, complex symptoms of being human. Everything.

Jade thinks he’d like to rewrite that old quote from his childhood.

But a mermaid has no tears and so that may be true in storybook blue, but it is her heart that weeps for everything she has experienced, is experiencing, and will experience; the good and the bad, the happy and the sad.

[oikasugayama]

HOW HE F--KS YOU

pt. 1 Dazai, Ranpo, Ango | pt. 2 Chuuya, Kunikida, Tachihara | pt. 3 Poe, Atsushi, Fukuzawa

Complete smutty filth. MDNI. several anatomies but no genders mentioned!!

Dazai

He fucks you possessively.

Whether you're only hooking up or in a relationship, he's making sure you know he's in charge. He's the one giving you pleasure. He's gonna mark you up with hickeys and bruises and make you sore and tired so you remember him later and others might notice where he's been touching you.

He'll definitely say something like "whose pussy/ass is this?" while fucking you hard, holding you down or pressing your body into the mattress. He'll keep asking and keep making you say "it's yours Dazai, this is your pussy" until he's satisfied you not only know it but you believe it. You are his plaything and you're going to know that.

As much as he acts like a brat to piss off his friends, in the bedroom he's a brat tamer. The more whiny and squirmy you are, the more he feels like he has to pin you down and teach you to behave. If you tell him no (in a safe way, of course), say you don't want to, or try to deny him what he wants (still within the confines of your previous consenting arrangements!!), he has to punish you. It's just how it works. His voice gets low and serious when he's pissed, but it makes you even hornier because you know the best fucks you've ever gotten from him are when he's taming you.

He's not opposed to fucking you in public if he feels like you need it, or if he needs to mark his territory. Once you were out together and another man dared to hit on you and touch you while Dazai was right there. Instead of getting mad at the man, Dazai invited him to sit with the two of you. The man only left when he eventually realized that as soon as you sat down Dazai started feeling you up and fingering/stroking you under the table.

Ranpo

He fucks you lazily.

His favorite position involves both of you on your sides, your back to his chest, and his dick inside you. He likes when you squirm back onto him, he likes thrusting lazily into you, he likes playing with your nipples from behind you, he likes nibbling on your shoulder/neck and saying filthy things in your ear.

Sex can last for hours on your laziest days. Every time he feels an orgasm build, he stops moving, just cockwarms in you for a while, and eventually you start squirming or he gets impatient and thrusts again.

Ranpo is also fond of face-sitting. You sitting on his face, of course. He doesn't much care to have his ass eaten, (though he does let you if you ask) but he eats you out like a champ. Maybe it's all the experience he has licking on lollipops and sucking sugar off his fingers, but who's to say. Regardless, his tongue is vicious and unrelenting and when he gets his fingers involved he can get you to cum on his face in less than 3 minutes.

When he gets you super overstimulated he knows you'll squirt for him. That's his favorite time to get you on his face, because he wants you to squirt on him. He wants to lap it up and gulp it down. He's a cum eater for sure and he doesn't care what other fluids are in the squirt-- he wants to drink it.

Ango

He fucks you guiltily.

He loves you. You are not allowed to know that. He told himself that he could only mess around with you if he kept you at an arm's length. It's for your own good, really. For your protection. He's too wanted. Too hated. Anyone dear to him will be taken away. It's better that no one knows how he really feels about you, not even you.

But he can't stop himself from seeing you. It's so easy to walk by your office and stand in the doorway. So easy to close the door behind him when you invite him in. So easy to fall to his knees in front of you and kiss up your thighs as you spread them. He eats you out like he's worshiping you. His tongue may move slowly, but he has a pattern he follows-- a flick here, a suckle there-- and it always gets you to cum.

He won't ever stop unless he's sure you've orgasmed. When you sneak into his apartment, or he sneaks into yours, he'll suck till his jaw is sore or thrust until his thighs are quaking. He'll cramp and hurt and exhaust himself but he will not stop until you're satisfied. After all, it's his only time with you. He's happy for it to last a long time.

His favorite position is missionary because he likes to look at you, right there in front of him, the person of his dreams. Your face twists up so cutely. The hot breath you expel when you moan sends shivers down his spine. He likes every hair, lump, bump, scar, jiggle that your body has to offer. Sometimes he gets overwhelmed with how much he wants needs you that he has to hide his face against your neck and fight back tears while he keeps rutting into you, hoping you don't notice anything's wrong.

[cornerstoreclown]

Imagine trying to figure out if Arts features are his own, or prosthetics and face paint?!

Staring at him too long and eventually breaking- poking and rubbing a finger at his face☝️☺️

Your wish is granted.

Gender neutral reader x Art the clown, tryna touch this man's face, not yet proofread.

-----------------------

Both of you are coated in blood--mostly him. The blood covering you was a result of getting caught in the crossfire between Art and his victim. You just happened to open the door to see it at the wrong time as he was brutalizing someone in their own home. You came along out of curiosity. Handed him stuff from his trash bag from time to time. This is all still sorta new to you, but you can feel yourself being indoctrinated into this … Madness. It’s shown. 

You don’t flinch like you used to when observing his kills. Now you observe and marvel at how much the human body can withstand before the fragile chord connecting the soul to the physical shell is severed. It’s like looking at your biology textbooks in school all over again in the most fucked up way. You’re relearning human anatomy now in a whole other way that’s allowed you to commit to memory when you’ve seen him rip someone’s skin right off their body.

Yep, that’s the trapezius muscle you see exposed. And that’s someone’s flexor tendon he just cut through. That’s a metatarsal he’s got between his teeth. That’s a bile duct he’s drinking from. That’s an eyeball with an optic nerve he’s putting in his trash bag. Aaaaaand that’s a molar he’s gifting you and putting in your palm. 

So yeah. You’ve seen it all. He’s tried to get you involved a few times already, but you’re not ready for that yet, much to his annoyance. You’ve assured him you’re working on getting there. 

Now you sit in the silence of the aftermath, a trachea sitting right across from you, as he’s relaxing after having completed his newest magnum opus thanks to an unwilling participant. He’s sitting next to you. Both of you aren’t smiling, but he was earlier. Now he’s just neutral, staring off into the distance at nothing in particular, almost like he’s zoning out in thought. You wonder what’s going on in that head of his.

As you stare at his face, attempting to pick up any approximation of where his mind might be, you take in his features. His dark eyes. Pointed chin. Sculpted face that looks a little skeletal near the temples and then gaunt around the cheeks.

Then there’s that nose of his. That beautiful, beautiful nose. 

There's no way that it's real. No one's got a real nose like that, you tell yourself. It’s a nice nose, regardless of its legitimacy. You’ve had it between your thighs plenty of times before and it’s bumped against the most intimate parts of you, but the nerves you feel between your thighs and the nerves on your fingers work a little differently. They help you receive and register way differently. Maybe he just super glued it on? What if he WAS born with it? What does he look like without the makeup? Did people make fun of him when he was a kid? Did he ever get to be a kid? Did they make fun of his nose? 

You extend your hand out slowly, reaching out to try and touch his nose with the tip of your finger. You’re inches away now–

Your hand is smacked.

“Ow!” 

Art startles you when he intercepts you. He’s still staring forward. He can see you in the corner of his vision. The man hasn’t blinked for ten whole minutes. Still hasn’t. 

Curiosity killed the cat, and it might kill you if you’re not careful. You pull your hand back for now. You’ll just have to try again later. When he’s not deep in thought. If that’s what he was even doing, anyway.

[ghouljams]

i sent this concept before so if you really hate it you can ignore it again but since we’re talking about abo. afab beta reader who’s omegacurious. like she really wishes she could be knotted and bred by an alpha but she doesn’t have the anatomy to take the knot without getting hurt cause her stupit guts get in the way 😭 still she fearlessly buys knotted dildos and trains her ass on them before asking her alpha best friend if he can pretty please knot and breed her 🥰 if she dies she dies

I actually don't know if I've gotten your ask before, but if I had I'm sure my answer would've been the same!

Everyone regardless of endotype can "take" a knot in my au. Human bodies are so stretchy it doesn't make sense that there'd be a hole(save mouths) that couldn't take a little extra stretching. So plenty of betas have alpha partners and have no trouble being knotted. Mostly because it has always been really weird to me that Betas were included in the gender hierarchy but were somehow completely divorced from it as well?? So in my omegaverse everyone can smell pheromone signatures, everyone has a fertility cycle, and everyone can take a knot.

The only people that really run into any issues are alpha/alpha relationships, especially m/f alpha relationships, but not because they can't take a knot... :3c

-

You can feel yourself tightening, your knot starting to squeeze Knönig's cock as he fucks you closer and closer to orgasm. The way his thick cock stretches you out, forces your knot back, makes your eyes roll. It makes your cunt tingle with heat, the stretch burning through your core. Each thrust hits you deep and hard in a way that aches, arching your spine, pushing moans from your chest that König greedily swallows down. His tongue invades your mouth, his scent invades your nose, the stick of his sweat on your skin makes your head spin. He's a glass of water at midnight, best taken in gulping, gasping breaths until you're sated. You're never sated.

The only problem is the fat knot that's starting to press against your entrance. The same entrance that's trying to lock him in place. The first time it had happened you'd been so worried about tearing that you'd almost broken his nose trying to kick him off of you, now you know better. You can feel the way your body relaxes even as your stomach tightens. Your muscles shake with tension ready to be released, but the way his fingers rub against your clit coaxes them towards melting as well. You're caught. Tensed and teased into this gasping writhing mess.

You can feel the rush of adrenaline already spiking when his hands grip your hips. His teeth snag against your bottom lip, crooked, chipped in the front from too many fights, tempting in their ability to draw blood.

"Ready liebchen?" He asks, his grip on your hips tightened to bruising. Your forehead knocks against his when you nod, your breath shuddering too much to think about speaking. Especially not when his fingers flex, and you're suddenly, achingly, full of him.

There's no build up, no gentleness, he pulls you onto his knot with a conviction that makes you think he could pull the moon from the sky. You're stretched past your limit, your own knot forced back into place, before the sudden rush of pretty, tingling, fullness snaps your control like a bow string, and your orgasm crashes into you like a wave. The way König moans as your internal knot squeezes tight around his is music to your ears. Tied to each other. You can feel the first hot spurt of come hitting your overworked walls.

König hum, grinding into you in a way that makes you whimper.

"There now," he coos, "easier every time." His big hand rests low on your stomach, his thumb rubbing lazily at your clit. You can feel the way your walls pulse around him, your poor pussy doing it's best to milk his stupid cock for all it's worth. He moves to rub at the soft stretched skin around your entrance, pushing at the spongy knot that hides under your skin. The feeling makes you gasp, your legs kicking at him uselessly as he massages the area, bringing you right back to the edge. "I think she's starting to like me." The smile in his voice could peel paint off the wall.

"Stop moving please." A vain plea. You know it'll be mere minutes before he's trying to fuck his knot past yours and then you'll both be begging.

[thatfeyboy]

I need to know why it makes people so unreasonably upset to suggest that some dysphoric trans people probably should be considered intersex. Do you just. Hate trans people? Or is it because anything that makes trans physical isn't allowed?

It has been stated many many times that not all trans people have dysphoria, and not all trans people that do experience the same dysphoria. It has been harped on that gender is social and about presentation and isn't binary. Fine. But somehow when I or people like me talk about having physical and immutable dysphoria that doesn't stem from social means it's not ok. When I bring up that yes, some parts of the brain control your hormones and gonads, and yes, some parts recognize what you are and should look like, im treated like a fucking gender critical.

Why is it wrong to say that parts of the brain do in fact qualify as sex related because that's what they are for? If they dont physically square with the binary(naturally, not through intervention) then that person is not binary/intersex in their physical disposition by definition. It's not exactly a hard concept to grasp.

And because I have to, no, most aspects of the brain are not related to our bimodal sex system. There can in fact be gender/sex nuance in certain parts of the brain without claiming male and female type brains exist as a whole. Fear of some shitty crack pot idea should not prevent people from understanding scientific inquiry and research.

Being intersex does not make the trans experience more or less valid/real. But I'm tired of pretending I'm a man for reasons that absolutely don't apply to me. Nothing about my being trans has anything to do with how I want to socially be, aside as an extension of others viewing my body as I wish it to be. If there is really room in the community for all of us, then my saying that some of our experience is different shouldn't be a problem.

EDIT: Thank you for some of your responses. I would like to amend my statement slightly. When I mentioned intersex I was more trying to imply, as I lacked a better word, that it is clear some if not most trans people that experience dysphoria have a physical developmental reason for that, likely epigenetic, genetic, and pre natal conditions. This type of sense is in most people, including cis people, hence why you cannot train someone to be a gender they aren't(no desistance of gender identity in both cis and trans people regardless of treatment). If intersex is to be interpreted as things exclusively affecting external or internal primary sex traits(as to be read, physically involved in the act of procreation) that are only ever natal, then I am ok in accepting intersex is not the best fit(except for that PCOS study but not super relevant rn).

That being said, I do still believe it is a part of sex and sex/gender development and that it is a physical condition(most anatomy based dysphoria). I don't see why it being a part of sex and sex development is a problem, when it has no other answer that satisfies our actual understanding of the condition and those peoples experience. Anything based on socialization has been disproven time and time again, so when are we going to stop acting like this

[aboredindividual]

Male omega anatomy

Here is my poorly drawn version of male omega's anatomy :)

In my mind i picture that when growing up, the omega's testis stop growing past certain age and when near presentation they will gradually slithers back up from the sack and settle internally. The testiless sack then will slowly be reabsorbed to the body.

The penis will be the smallest of all the other dynamics (picture the biggest omegan phallus will be comparable to average beta ones)

I kinda detest the version where their uterus is connected to rectum because of ✨sanitary reasons✨so i made my own version.

When it comes to fertility the male omegas ability to impregnate is very diminished as previously mentioned, the testis are not developed enough to create sufficient amount of sperm to secure concievement. Yet they compensate it by their very fertile ovaries who are highly efficient at their job. While female betas' pregnancy will result in only one child with twins and triplets being out of norm, the omegas regardless of sex will carry litters of 2-3 children on average.The male gender will have predispositions to having just two babies at a time because of the strain but the pregnancy will be no different from others.

[voredere]

i need people on this website to understand:

some trans women have two x chromosomes

some trans men have a y

some trans women have vaginas, uteruses, etc and some were even born with them

some trans men have penises, testes, etc some were born with them

some trans people have very complicated anatomy

some trans people have a complicated relationship with their anatomy

some trans women were assigned female at birth

some trans men were assigned male at birth

some trans women have menstruated

some trans men have never menstruated and never will

some intersex people do not find out they are intersex until they hit puberty

some intersex people do not find out they are intersex until later in life

some intersex people take HRT for reasons that are related to being intersex

some intersex people take HRT for reasons that are related to being trans

some intersex people forgo hrt, trans or otherwise

some trans people consider being intersex a vital facet of their gender

some trans people do not consider being intersex a factor in their gender

some trans intersex people consider their assigned gender their original gender

some trans intersex people self-quantify their "biological sex", and identify as "afab" or "amab" based on that, regardless of assigned gender at birth, due to the limits of afab/amab as terms for intersex people.

some trans intersex people have identities and anatomy you don't understand and never will

some trans intersex people have identities and anatomy you didn't know were possible

some trans intersex people are fertile and choose to have biological children

some trans intersex people are infertile and may or may not choose to have children through other means

some trans intersex people have experiences i haven't even begun to cover in this post and never could even if i had eternity to do so

and some people have any combination of the above

unlearn the concept of sex as a binary and stop excluding us from conversations about gender, reproductive rights, and sexual health.

[yanderestarangel]

HEADCANONS MIGUEL O'HARA | FTM O'HARA X FTM READER

˚｡⋆.☆TW: afab anatomy, praise, t4t, use of testosterone, mention of dysphoria, fingering, smut, soft!boyfriend miguel, eat out, switch!miguel.

˚｡⋆.☆ I just wanted to write about ftm miguel ohara for a while now, I had never seen a ftm miguel x ftm reader, so... I wrote it.

♡ ₊ ˚— Contrary to what everyone at spidersociety thinks, dating Miguel is a happy and comforting experience, especially when you share the same struggle, experience and pain - being trans men - he is much more open to a debate when he knows that you. He is also an FTM person, thus beginning a calm friendship that in the future led to the two of you dating.

♡ ₊ ˚— However, obviously, O'Hara will not fall in love with you just because you two are equal, but because he saw in you a more peaceful and welcoming future, away from the pain that being a Spider-Man brought, he lost a daughter and he doesn't want to lose you either. He is a lonely, rude man, but deep down, he just needs to be loved too - if you are his safe haven, he will be yours.

♡ ₊ ˚— He will want to know everything about how you feel about your body, gender, etc. If you want to make a complete transition like him - major surgery, testosterone etc - he won't hesitate to recommend the same doctors who took care of him and will also go to every appointment you go to. Miguel will always be by your side, helping you make the best decisions to be comfortable with yourself, he will even give you the list of exercises he does and also help you train every day. However, if you don't want to touch anything and you feel good about your body, it will support you in the same way, regardless of everything, Miguel O'Hara is your boyfriend and respects you more than anything in the multiverse.

♡ ₊ ˚— If you suffer from dysphoria, he will find a way to make you see the incredible man you are, he will praise you, talk to you and use all the resources he can to make you feel good about yourself, Hugging you for hours and leaving you in his lap while he listens to your every outburst, running his hand down your back while whispering that everything is going to be okay.

♡ ₊ ˚— Miguel likes you to kiss or trace with your finger the scars from his top surgery, whenever he is shirtless, sweaty after a list of exercises, he will show off for you - he is attention-starved, Please pay attention to Miguelito - he will stand in front of you, smiling seductively as he watches you drool over his physique. "-You can touch me if you want, mi amor..." He would speak in a provocative tone, but soon the leader's 'don juan' banner would fall, when he saw you kiss his scars, making him blush and let out a soft moan, taking his big hands to your hair and caressing the locks, you are his soft spot... And he doesn't mind being a soft boyfriend with you.

♡ ₊ ˚— O'Hara also likes to hold your hand every time he gives himself testosterone injections. He's not afraid of needles, after all, he needs to apply ruptures too to make himself weaker. However, every time he applies it, being with you by his side is a refreshing sight, it's a quick action but one that means a lot to him and to you too. The futuristic Spider-Man will always hug you afterwards... But be prepared to also deal with the uncontrollable lust he gets after that.

♡ ₊ ˚— Miguel likes to fuck you, and be fucked. He will return home with a dripping pussy after an extremely stressful tiring day, the Mexican will not even give you time to think straight, just lifting you over his shoulder and taking you to the surface closest to the house - opening your thighs , exposing your pussy to him while he brought his lips to your core, hungrily licking your wet skin. “-Give me that pussy, be a good boy...” Miguel growls out, fucking you with his fingers and tongue at the same time. His own pussy twitches in anticipation as he continues to tease and tantalize you. "-So fucking good..," he mutters between suckles - Miguel pushed four fingers inside of you, curving them upward towards your G-spot. You let out a gasp of surprise at the intense stimulation causing waves of pleasure to course through your body. "-Like that?" He'll make you cum first, and then you'll be able to return the favor.

♡ ₊ ˚— O'Hara will rub himself against your face, his pussy dripping, taking extreme care not to hurt you with his weight. “-Fuck... cariño...” Miguel groans loudly into the room. “-Suck my clit harder... make me cum all over your tongue.” He feels your mouth enveloping his pussy, the warm wetness enclosing him in a way that sends shivers down his spine. His hips buck involuntarily against your face as he reaches out for your head, trying to guide it further downwards. He will shake and moan over your mouth, holding your hair tightly.

♡ ₊ ˚— He and you have a variety of sex toys, especially a custom-made and technological strap-on, which sends waves of pleasure through his pussy with each thrust he makes in your cunt. You'll be able to fuck him too, Miguel really doesn't mind letting you take control sometimes. He will want to be praised too, things like that. "-Such a good boy for me" "-Fuck Miguel, you are so beautiful fucking my pussy like that" "-I love you so much mi guapo" among others, make the brunete blush and whimper with pleasure, especially if you suck your nipples him, while fucking him until you're both a shaking, sweaty mess on the bed - he also loves to dominate you and talk dirty to you when it's his turn to dominate you. Things like: “-You make me so fucking wet.”, "-Let loose all those dirty thoughts about me… say them.", “-You like this? Wanting me so bad that even my pussy craves yours?", "-Do you want me to finger-fuck you hard and fast? Or should I take my time, exploring every inch of you?", "-Cumming soon mi amor..."

♡ ₊ ˚— Miguel also likes the 'scissor' position, making your two clits touch, a wet mess from both of your overstimulated pussies - he'll hold you close to him with his strong arms, dictating the speed - Or, he'll hold you close make you rub your pussy against his muscular thighs, while teasing you, just breaking you to the point of seeing you squirt on him, but, you can also do the same, kissing him while fingering every creamy wall of your spider boyfriend.

♡ ₊ ˚— After you two exhaust your energy fucking all over the house, he'll make sure you're okay, cleaning you up and kissing you, whispering how you pleased him and how lucky he is to have you in his life. The two of you will sleep cuddled together afterwards, with Miguel reassuring you and telling you that you can sleep in peace, that he will be there when you wake up.

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

[immodestly-marina]

Prettiest Thing

A/n: I deadass cannot get Tfem!Sam off my mind and I thought this idea was so cute. I can’t unsee it now but someone posted smth saying that regardless of what gender Sam was assigned at birth, they’re trans in some way, and that spoke to me asf. 

@nuemanfilms ilyily 

Summary: Sammy was so scared she’d lost you during the crocotta hunt… what’s better than calming each other's nerves with some soft slow fucking?

Warnings: Transfem Sammy/AFAB reader, Unprotected sex, Vaginal fingering, slight hair pulling kink, praise kink, both Sam and reader are sub coded, reference to male anatomy on a girl, Sammy is richly endowed down there, very gentle and very soft, consent checks are hot

Your hips rock against Sam’s hand when her fingers curl against your sweet spot, her thumb slowly circling your clit to get you relaxed enough for her to enter you. Your hand lazily strokes her cock, pulling soft whimpers from her still swollen lips.

Almost as soon as you got back to the motel, Sam was on you in a heartbeat. She lifted you up with a hand around your waist and the other hooked around your thigh, helping you wrap your legs around her while your tongue invaded her mouth. She half haphazardly pulled the desk chair out from the table beside her, sinking down into the cheap, peeling leather before working your shorts off of your hips, giggling during the process of getting both of your clothes off in the position you’d been in.

You’re now sitting on her lap, legs dangling off her thighs and under the armrests of the chair as she slowly fucks you with her thick fingers. When she brushes against your g-spot just right, your hips buck and you let out a whine as your forehead falls against hers. Panting into each other's mouths, Sammy presses a soft kiss to your lips again, before returning to the hungry pace you’d fallen into before. 

Your hand comes up to circle her tip, dipping your thumb into her weeping slit to mimic the feeling she'd just ignited in your core. Her own hips buck up at the sensation, head dipping into your shoulder while she cries out in pleasure. 

Sam’s fingers slow before she pulls them out from inside your cunt, dragging a groan from your throat at the loss of contact. She kisses up your neck to meet your jaw, softly biting the underside as she replaces your hand on her cock with her own.

She pumps herself a few times, and you lift your hips a little to help her guide herself to your core. “Still okay, darlin’?” Sam whispers in confirmation. You nod, mumbling a ‘Please, Sammy’ before she presses her tip against you.

Both of your mouths fall slack when she first pushes inside, sighing out in unison as she slowly bottoms out, letting you adjust before rolling her hips upward into yours. Her eyes stay trained on your face when you grind back, carefully dragging your hips back and forth until you find the perfect angle and pace.

Sam leans forward to mouth at your neck again, her hands not leaving your hips to help you rock against her. She sucks gently at the tender skin, leaving light pink marks in her wake. “So- s’pretty, baby…” She mumbles against your neck. After a while she lets her head fall against your shoulder, little moans and whimpers being blown into your warm skin.

Your hand tangles into her hair, softly tugging at the curls behind her ears. You smile, feeling so good from her, while also feeling how secure you are with her.

“Beautiful girl,” You sigh by her ear, which earns a soft hum from Sam. “So good f’me, Sammy… such a good girl.” Sam pants against your neck, quiet grunts falling from her at the praise.

You rest your head against hers as you ride her a little faster, moaning when your clit meets her abdomen with the new angle. You pant against one another, both of your orgasms approaching faster than you’d anticipated. 

“Sammy-” Your arms tighten around her body, nails digging into her back when her hips thrust upward. “I know baby, I know… doing s’good, making me feel s’good, sweetpea.” She whimpers into your neck again, before pulling away to capture your lips in another chaste kiss. Her hands come up to hold your face, large hands taking up your cheeks and half of your head. She pulls away to look at you, taking in your fucked out expression and feeling the warm puffs of air against her chin.

And she looks so beautiful like this; Her eyebrows pinched up, pretty puppy eyes begging you for… she doesn’t even know what for. Just for something. A pink blush devours her cheeks as she lets a needy moan fall past her lips, which were still breathtakingly swollen and rosy.

She looks like a messenger of God, some divine being who fell to earth for the sole purpose of being your darling saint, kissed by Aphrodite and assuming the role of Venus.  

Her eyes widen with a flash as she feels herself twitch inside of you, another moan being stolen from her. You feel your own release crawling through your core, hands once again tightening against her strong back.

“Sam- Sammy I’m gonna-” Your mouth falls open into a silent moan as your orgasm tears through you, a loud whine finally pushing past your throat as your hips stutter against hers. Sam still has your face in her hands, both of you unable to take your eyes off each other as you reach your peak. Several whines leave her lips as she gently tries to fuck up into you, chasing her own release.

Her hips still and within seconds she’s throbbing inside of you. A high pitched ‘H-Huh- Huh! Hah-’ falls from her pretty lips as her cock jolts with each spurt of cum. Her orgasm takes a moment to taper off before she’s able to relax against you, pulling you against her while she catches her breath. 

Your hands return to her hair, playing with the soft curls to bring her back down to earth rather than tugging at them to spur her on. Sam feels light kisses being pressed to the underside of her chin, your hair brushing against her chin prompts her to place some atop your head as well.

While drawing soothing shapes along each other's backs, Sam sighs contentedly as she places another kiss to your temple.

“I love you,” Sam pulls away for a moment to admire you, her fingers coming up to brush the hair from your face and tuck it behind your ears. “S’much…”

You lean up to kiss her chin, softly nipping the side of her jaw once with a smirk as she ducks away with a giggle. You poke her dimple when it appears with her smile, “Love you so much more, pretty thing.”

[3liza]

anal sex is awesome when it's done correctly. btw. regardless of the gender or orientation or anatomy of the partners involved. like I highly recommend it if you're willing to do it right. one of many things I think small penises are better for, for a lot of people. just my onion though

[radfem-raccoon]

You people actually sit here and believe that the whole point of gender is "man oppresses woman" and apply that to conversations about trans men. As if we exist as trans men just to oppress women because... apparently that's why gender exists. Great heavens.

I think you hate the idea that trans men are actually not oppressors, and are in fact oppressed, because its challenges their view of gender when all they know is "men exist as a class to oppress women" (which is... such stupid logic. And probably why all you "trans inclusive" radfems hate trans men)

So, for starters, I'm not trans inclusive, alright? I'm tolerant. There's a massive difference. I don't like TIMs, but I deal with them because I don't have any other choice. I tend to avoid them. TIFs are women and I care about all women, even those who don't want to be. That's it.

You are not oppressed because you're a man², you're oppressed because you're a woman with female anatomy. That's what gender/sex based oppression is. You're oppressed due to that connection to womanhood. You don't just get to escape that oppression because you cut your breasts off and make a fake dick out of skin. That's not how it works.

Now, let's go through this, step by step, yeah? I don't want you to come away without knowing what I actually think.

You people actually sit here and believe that the whole point of gender is "man oppresses woman"

Gender itself is a collection of behaviors we adopt due to our sex. That's what gender is. It is, essentially, stereotypes. It isn't "man oppresses woman", but that does play a role in the behaviors we end up adopting.

Men do oppress women. That is a real phenomena. Patriarchy exists and you, and other TIFs, cannot escape it by pretending you're something you're not. I wish to the high heavens you could, because then patriarchy wouldn't exist. Women would just become men and that'd be it. Men, though, they know who to rape and murder. I'll give you a hint: it's because they know what a woman is, regardless of what she might call herself or dress as.

apply that to conversations about trans men

We view you as the ultimate victims of the patriarchy. That's it. That's what we believe. You have no power to oppress us because you're not a man. Or that's what I believe, other radfems might think differently.

As if we exist as trans men just to oppress women

You don't exist to oppress women. You are a woman attempting to escape oppression and the suffocating roles placed upon you. That's what most TIFs tend to be.

I think you hate the idea that trans men are actually not oppressors, and are in fact oppressed

Because you're a woman. You're oppressed because you are female.

because its challenges their view of gender when all they know is "men exist as a class to oppress women.

None of us view gender that way and most of us do more to challenge gender itself through being GNC. Sorry.

And probably why all you "trans inclusive" radfems hate trans men

We don't hate TIFs. No radfem hates TIFs. We're annoyed with y'all because you're so close to getting it yet you somehow miss the point every single damn time.

[shadows-writing-lounge]

Ganondorf General Horny Headcanons: Coochie Edition

(Ganondorf isn't the one with the coochie. At least this time.)

Content: pussy having reader, you/your pronouns, Reader described as smaller than Ganondorf. Sparse bodily mentions. Kinks from the first post apply. Warnings show up as needed.

Ganondorf size, kinks and Gender Neutral Reader

Dick Having Reader Version

Terms used: breasts, bosom, chest, cunt, clit, pussy, vulva,

~

Ganondorf appreciates his partner's form regardless of their assets. He doesn't go out of his way to make it known though the floodgates open of you where to ask about it. The curves and lines of your body. Any definition of muscle or smooth area of fat. He squeezes your hips, thighs, stomach and chest, saying everything he loves about them and what he'd do to them if you let him.

After he's done with everything else he'll have you on his lap as he touches the cunt between your legs. Feeling the sensitive skin around your inner thighs with light whispers of a touch. Sliding his fingers over lips of your vulva before dipping in. Praising you for being so warm and inviting to him.

Not up to penetration? Feel free to rub your pussy against his cock. Even if it's soft, feel it grow hard under your ministrations. Pussyjob or thigh jobs are welcome. Maybe tease him by just rubbing the tip against your clit.

CW: Breast mentions, if you have either chest dysphoria or dysmorphia skip it to the next red word. Also mentions marking skin with bites and hickies

If you show insecurity about your chest. Small or large it does matter. He tells you to press your bosom against his erection. This erection is just for you. He cums where you want he has plenty to spare.

He'll kiss, bite and suck your breasts. If you can come from just nipple stimulation he'll abuse this knowledge.

If you can bruise visibly he'll mark them up with hickies and bites. If you ask him not to he'll relent.

Hylian

CW: mentions of breeding/impreg but as a way to make fun? Implication that reader can get pregnant. Go to the bolded word to skip.

Teases you about the nature of your relationship. Forsaking your race to be with him. A traitor, heretic even. Maybe he should sire a child with you to add further insult.

Nonetheless. He enjoys the mirth from it. Specially the size difference so easy to hold and to move. An almost mocking bite to the tip of your pointed ear before deciding you're properly prepared to take him.

Other hylians might not be allowed to touch but if you're up to it the Gerudo ladies would be up to discovering the differences of hylians and Gerudo anatomy. He doesn't trust most of the men under his rule but that doesn't mean he can't conquer up some phantoms just for your use.

-

I didn't have that many thoughts that I thought I would.