#tell me this isn't what you'd do

[vixstarria]

Kinktober Day 23 - Body Swapping

For every day of the month of October I will be posting a little snippet following prompts listed in this post. Most of these will not be full fics, but rather short snippets, set-ups, and, in a few cases, copied bits and pieces of fics I have already published. But, if there is a lot of interest and feedback on any of the snippets, they might just evolve into full fics, so keep that in mind.

Disclaimer: Tell me this isn't exactly how this would go, I fkn dare you.

“We’ll have about an hour. Are you ready?”

The scroll had cost a small fortune on the black market, came with no guarantees, and was illegal to possess to begin with. The vendor claimed it would fully swap their bodies. Not just provide illusionary images of one another - completely switch them, sensations, abilities, weaknesses and all.

“Do it.”

Asmodea braced herself and used the scroll before she could change her mind.

She was immediately struck by the heightened richness of her senses - she already had perfect half-elven eyesight before, but now everything she laid her eyes on was clearer to a degree she had never realised was possible. She could make out the most minute sounds from afar. Her sense of smell seemed to have gained a new dimension.

It worked! By the gods, the scroll actually worked…

After a few dazed seconds, she realised that her mouth had been gaping in awe, and she shut it. A fang immediately snagged on her inner lip, piercing it. Asmodea yelped in surprise, tonguing the cut. Within seconds, it healed completely. She carefully opened and shut her mouth again - the fangs feeling unnatural and obtrusive in her mouth.

“Godth,” she lisped, trying to get the hang of working her mouth despite the fangs. “How long did it take to get used to thith?” No answer followed, and she looked questioningly at Astarion, who was wearing her body.

He had stayed completely still, barely breathing, hardly blinking. He hadn’t taken his eyes off her, she realised.

Oh. Right.

“Come now, you’ve seen your mirror images,” she said, softly. “This shouldn’t be a shock.”

“They didn’t quite convey the… the finer details,” Astarion said, absentmindedly, continuing to stare.

Asmodea quelled her urge to cringe at the sound of her own voice, and instead did a little spin with a flourish, and flashed him her best imitation of his devilish grin.

“And what do you think?”

“I think you have excellent taste, darling” Astarion smiled, before finally tearing his eyes away from his own image. “Anyway. Let’s not waste time.”

Their clothes were quickly discarded.

“Do you want me to touch you..?”

“Not yet, just let me see for myself first… Gods, you may as well be half-deaf and blind, but I need to gorge myself on blood before my skin gets even close to this level of sensation…”

Astarion was careful and methodical, almost scientific in the way he glided his fingers over his female flesh, repeating the motions he’d performed on her countless times - no doubt making mental notes of the sensations and filing them away for later use.

Meanwhile, Asmodea was gyrating her hips, trying to get her penis to spin like the sails of a windmill.

“You need to be more aroused to get a proper idea of how that feels,” she said, watching him.

“In due course,” he murmured. “…And will you stop that?”

“In due course,” she mimicked him, looking him square in the eyes, the penis continuing to fly.

He sighed and resumed his efforts, his fingers slipping inside, probing and searching. He frowned in concentration.

“You really can’t reach it yourself,” he said thoughtfully.

“Yes, I’ve told you that,” she rolled her eyes. “But while we’re err�� exploring uncharted territories and all… Can you finger my ass real quick?” she asked, turning her back to him.

“Finger your own ass,” he muttered, “I’m busy.”

She half-turned to look back at him over her shoulder, conjuring up the saddest, roundest eyes she could manage. Astarion swore under his breath as soon as he looked up at her.

“I had no idea it was that effective,” he muttered. “Fine! I’ll scratch yours, if you scratch mine... Is there any oil anywhere..?”

My Kinktober masterlist and prompts post

[the-judicial-assistants-notebook]

not enough discussion about the gavins' complicated relationship with feminine-coded/beauty products, i don't think.

[iniziare]

I'm finally moved in! I need to unpack some more (and rearrange this kitchen's cabinets, because my god who lived here before me— a tall Dutch person?) But I need some rest before I get to that, for my arms and legs are killing me after last night's repeated walks here. Peace, god, I've missed you with every fiber of myself. But as I (still) wake up from my nap, I wanted to touch on a quick little Kafka thing that I'm not sure how many people have noticed, but hopefully will add to their perception of her, and most importantly, how I actually approach her character.

I think it's easy to say that Kafka's character appears to be 'inconsistent' if you look at her through only the singular lens of the 'spider', and I think that's doing a massive disservice to both her and Hoyoverse respectively. Let me try to explain this for a moment: Kafka is not solely represented by the arachnid, she is also represented by the butterfly. Yes, you read it right. Listen, it's so easy to see the plethora of motifs that pretty much force you to acknowledge the former, in anything from her attire, to the webs, to her very calculating and cunning nature. But they hide, to me, an obvious thing right in plain sight: the butterfly brooch, it stands out like a sore thumb. And like many on X, I used to associate it with the Trailblazer, and their 'transformation' and how that may play into the 'loss' that Kafka is insinuated to have suffered. Ergo, it would carry a fair amount of emotional weight. But ever since I saw it pinned on Blade on official promotional art, this started feeling a bit too ill-fitting for me. HYV doesn't do things willy nilly, and Kafka is very specific and sentimental with certain things, so it didn't feel right that it would be given to Blade even temporarily (it's not specific to him, it is simply that it's too important to give to anyone, ever), so instead— I wanted to see what else this could mean. Now, without overthinking anything, a butterfly stands in almost direct opposition to the spider, in that it is often perceived as restless, or impatient, with the way that it flutters from flower to flower, never keeping its attention on the same thing for too long (does this sound like Kafka's boredom yet, anyone?) — unlike the spider, which is often considered a symbol of patience. And in that journey, I found the second butterfly motif: butterflies that appear behind her as she uses her skill, the skill that, mind you, constructs a web in front of her. And they're not just butterflies, they're black butterflies, which evokes an even richer symbolism and imagery that goes beyond even the 'foundational' concept of what the butterfly on its own means for her character.

Any way, all of this rambling to say that a long meta on this topic for her is still long overdue as this is something that I've been sitting on for months now, but haven't been able to properly put into words because, well, life. But I'm looking forward to being able to get to all of it now. But hello, does this add to your perception, and explain a bit why I write Kafka with such a curiosity? That, boredom, restlessness, and an intrinsic draw to 'beauty', she may not only be potentially 'other' in terms of possibly not being entirely human, but she is, and has always been 'other' in her nuance. Seeing Kafka as merely represented by the spider sells her, in my opinion, very short— because it takes all of the nuance away from her very intricate character. This duality is vital to understanding how she works and ticks, because otherwise I think it's too simple to fall into 'this doesn't suit her character', while actually— yes, it absolutely does.

[mad-hunts]

barton being awkward at first or even completely throughout a whole interaction whenever he's trying to comfort people is so in character for him TBH and let me tell y'all why because i think it's important to his character:

he can fake a lot of things. barton can fake being nice to people, he can fake being innocent, and he can even fake having a much stronger sense of morality around people if he wants to — but whenever it comes to empathizing with someone on an emotional level... barton finds himself often struggling with faking it because of the nature of it. and this is due to it being different than whenever he's trying to feign something easily comprehensible like innocence. but empathy is something that's usually viewed as innate in us as humans and has to do with love, which doesn't depend on logic. it's something that comes from within, so it doesn't have clear parameters as to how you should do it, so whenever barton tries to fake it in the event that he's trying to make someone feel better; he'll stumble. and so although barton can cognitively empathize with someone, his efforts to actually put himself in other people's shoes fall flat, as he just can't physically imagine himself being in someone else's position probably more than half the time.

so if your muse were to ever come to him seeming upset, barton would likely not know what to do / how to comfort them, at least for a bit before referencing back on how he's seen other people do it. because i hate to say it (i don't, in reality, but y'all know what i mean LOL) but barton does actively mimic behaviors that he sees people do whenever he feels the absence of a certain emotion. he especially does this whenever he's trying to appear charming to other people, but like i said, he'll also try to use what he's seen his peers do as a guide as for what he should do in regards to empathy. and sometimes he may even seem a bit flustered before he's able to do this because he knows that it is expected of him to be able to empathize with people and can identify it in other people BUT knowing how to approach faking it has always been sort of hard for him even as an adult.

but yeahhh, that's just my own two cents about how barton sometimes break character that he is quote unquote ' normal, ' though he does try to mask this around people who aren't really familiar with him as simply being social awkwardness. however, it is part of a larger thing with him as despite the fact that he can blend in with the population REALLY well and also is pretty good at manipulating others, i suppose you could say that barton is still not an expert at ' constructing empathy ' because whenever someone is visibly hurt in front of him... he is more liable to act like he isn't sure what to do, than to put on an act immediately since he is likely to feel nothing first before anything else. and i realize that that is a rather unsettling thought, but i think that he is a lot more suspectible to doing this with people he doesn't know well / who he isn't particularly close to, as he's got a lot more practice with being falsely empathetic towards friends and/or sometimes even family members.

[death-rebirth-senshi]

Now that I've finished dungeon meshi I have to say, while I understand the disappointment with fandom's constant obsession with shipping two dudes in fandom typical ways and ignoring the women/men that don't fit a certain mold and basically ignoring the entire rest of the story...

People acting so indignant that people would do gay or even straight shipping, because this manga is such a super women-led yuri show that's all about the power of Marcille's all-consuming love for Falin, are absolutely fucking bonkers and have lost the plot.

That is not to say that these shippers are not insane or can't be annoying in the typical ways that they are, or that Marcille/Falin aren't the most shippable pairing and just about the closest you're gonna get to something romantic in Dungeon Meshi (it's a platonic ass story and I love that), or that it wouldn't be nice for the fandom around something to stay mostly devoted to the closest to a canon pairing most shippable F/F ship. It would. But like. I don't know I'm kind of upset by that attitude now

And my intention is not to be super negative about Marcille/Falin fans, because they are certainly not all like this, it's just. WHOO! That is just so not remotely what Dungeon Meshi is about to a degree I still wasn't prepared for despite being aptly warned.

[ourceliumnetwork]

huh... the way my parents showed me the world worked was really kind of fucked up, it's no fucking wonder i have an anxiety disorder frankly.

[gregoftom]

oh ok

[yuseirra]

What are your thoughts on the claims that Aqua is heartless and psychopath like Kira (death note) and Lelouch (code geass)? I have read this on here and reddit however I can not agree do you think Aqua is misunderstood?

Heyo Anon! I wouldn't say I'm an expert on things, and I really don't prefer getting into arguments, so I cannot promise I'll answer questions like these in the future, pardon me in advance... there will be better people in the fandom who answer questions regarding the plot, I consider myself to be a fan artist who hangs here for fun and my thoughts aren't too important regarding how people should feel about things. I hope you all have fun with your takes!

With that being out of the way,

I... don't think there's even a need to answer this question, the answer is very obvious, isn't it? At least, I think so! How do you feel about such takes, anon? Are those ideas very important to you? Does it influence how you feel about the character? To add, in terms of Light and Lelouch, I haven't seen code geass but I read Death Note, I think Light is a very interesting character and Lelouch.. I bet he's a pretty complex character as well. They must all have their own charm, so labeling them as a flat-out heartless psychopath may be a bit unfair. Death Note was really good! I even bought myself a hard copy of the book. My favorite character is L (and I like Near too), but Light is a well-written character as well and that's one of the things that's made the series really charming and intriguing!

Comparing Aqua to Kira is kinda.. I might get it if people compare his DAD to Kira since people keep dying around the guy but if you've seen me, I take even him as someone who really may be kind but is being misunderstood and horribly unfortunate. I think they're very different to begin with, their circumstances and what they go through and their mindsets and everything, I personally can't find a lot of similarities between the two. But maybe people who feel that way may have their own reasons for feeling so. Everyone has their own reasoning.

Aqua used to be my favorite character when I picked up the series back last year, and so I wrote an analysis about how I feel about the character. My thoughts about the character hasn't changed so drastically, so this should be how I take him still.

What other people say about things can matter and affect your heart, I know where you're coming from because I get influenced very easily because I care about what people say, but I feel that in the end, it's really up to you to form a take and interpret the things you believe that make sense for you. Perhaps it could be a good idea to curate your dash in ways that won't negatively affect you. I never knew there were those takes in the first place, and even if I do, I don't think I would actively go looking for those or read it thoroughly, I'm not saying they would be entirely wrong or have no base, not worth reading and such, it's because it'd be very different from the way I see it and there would be no need for me to read them over on purpose.

Again, I didn't have any thoughts because I wasn't aware.. if people feel that way about Aqua, they must have their reasons upon believing so! I don't feel that way though.

[anto-pops]

and every time the baby kicks and moves in her tummy, sebastian turns into a mooncalf. dances around her and has the biggest googly eyes on his face. he puts his hands on her belly and it's like they are communicating with each other. it's magical.

"yes, you are right mommy is the best! she carries you like a kangaroo. what's a kangaroo you ask? that's a muggle animal. i will show them to you one day when you are there. but now you gotta let mommy sleep a little. take a nap with her. i love you more than everything. can't wait to hold you in my arms buddy."

I had just enough time to recover from the first few asks you sent and you follow up with THIS ??? Call an ambulance. I'm deceased.

[broodygaming]

idk if that poll means viv betrays you or like. solas. he kinda betrays you by wanting to end the world ig

Yes! Yes sorry i tried to say that later in my tags haha, I just mean the whole betrayal thing reminds me of this very intense first impression of Viv, that's all. Whenever I think about the whole "mage betrayal" thing, I think of that just because I knew that my hurt feelings over Anders "betrayal" REALLY colored my choices in that (fairly early) character quest, ya know? And I feel bad haha, like it sucks and I wish she'd just given me more context T_T

[elytrafemme]

every single fictional character i like should split and have mood swings like me. "ohhhhh but it's not canotical" "ohh they have good control over their emotions and stable views on the world" i don't fucking care. i see cq in his fake desert i see klavier's control dialogue i see dahlia and her serial murders and komaeda and the gun literally fuck with me right now. we need to stop being cowards about our fictional character headcanons i think everyone should kill people always because i can't

[luvcaleb]

DO YOU WANT MORE?

nsfw (18+). includes implied marathon sex, unprotected sex, breeding, breast play, squirting, caleb fucks roughly but still does tender gestures <3, nicknames (pipsqueak is possibly the worst they could've picked for a canon nickname but this is my attempt at making it sound hot). filthy smut from top to bottom. likes and reblogs will be very helpful !!

“C'mon, pipsqueak, raise your hips.”

Caleb squeezes your waist, his thrusts changing from a deep, persistent grind that makes you feel every inch of his cock to a fast-paced pounding. You've long lost feeling in your legs, and the only thing keeping you from sprawling on the bed is Caleb's tight grip on your hips, fucking into you relentlessly from behind.

“Ah...! Wait, Caleb, haah, no more...!”

Each thrust loudly snaps the bedframe against the wall, but it isn't enough to hide the squelching noises between your legs. Slick and cum drip down your thighs, staining the sheets into ruin. They get even messier with a few more thrusts as you gush around his cock unannounced, squirting into the cum-soaked bedsheets.

Caleb groans as your cunt squeezes around him, trying to coax out more of his hot cum. “Fuck, baby, you're so tight... Feels good when your cunt sucks on my cock...”

His hand slides to your squirting pussy, rubbing circles on your clit. More slick jets out of you, soaking his palm. Squealing, you try to crawl away him him, gripping tightly on the blankets that have been slipping off the bed.

The delicious pressure against your clit releases, but Caleb pulls you back to his cock. He straightens your back to press against his chest, bottoming out in a single thrust to hit the deepest spot in your pussy. “Ngh, why are you running away? Didn't you say you'd last longer than me, pips?” He pants against your ear, hand tenderly running along your side to soothe you, yet his hips don't stop their merciless thrusts. “Or are you tapping out now?”

Perhaps hours ago, you would have answered with a vehement refusal. But now, with drool dripping from your lips constantly agape from moaning, your clit too sensitive from his insistent flicking and rubbing, and your thoroughly-fucked cunt filled with his loads of cum, the idea of calling it quits sounds appealing.

“I'll do whatever you want, baby. Just say the word,” Caleb murmurs against your skin, his lips molding over your neck to suck another hickey among the marks he already made. “If you want to stop, I'll run the bath and take care of you. We'll cuddle on the sofa and watch that new movie you've been looking forward to.”

His hips stop, having pulled all the way out, the tip barely brushing against your cunt. “But if you don't want to stop...”

Slowly, his hand travels up your torso, squeezing your tits. He plays with your nipples, evoking another gasp out of you. “I'll make you feel good. Fuck any other thought out of your mind so you'll only think of me.”

You whine as his cock rubs along your wet folds, catching on the strings of cum dripping from your pussy. The tip circles around your clit, teases at your opening, just putting it in enough to make you feel its thick girth, but he pulls out too soon.

“What will you choose, baby?”

Your hazy mind can't come up with clear thoughts, foggy from the pleasure. But forming an answer is the easiest thing to do—it's not like he left you with any other choice, anyway.

“Please fuck me, Caleb,” you sob, clinging at the arm cupping your breast. “Please put your cock inside me. Fuck me even if I tell you to stop. Cum... please cum more inside m- ahh!”

You're roughly flipped onto your back, but he holds your head softly to lay you down on the pillow. It's only at this moment that you get to see Caleb's face, brows furrowed, sweat dripping down his temples, his lip bitten red from the strain of holding back. “Shit... you really do know how to rile me up, pipsqueak.”

He looms over you, muscled arms caging you on the bed, chest heaving up and down as he pants. He fixes his position, resting his weight on his knees, and he uses his hands to spread your legs wider. His eyes are dark with lust while he stares at your abused hole, spilling cum on the sheets below you.

“Maybe this time, I really will fuck you pregnant.”

The statement doesn't even register in your mind because he immediately thrusts inside, pounding at your cervix. You gasp, aimlessly grasping at anything you could hold onto as you lose your mind, a fresh stream of cum soaking his cock.

His abs ripple with each thrust, the dirtiest groans and pants leaving his lips. “Fuck, you're so cute... cumming already when I just put it in.” Caleb leans closer, catching both of your wrists to make you wrap your arms around his neck instead of the dirty sheets. “When did you become such a pervert?” He drops his head to suck at your tits, licking your nipples.

It's your fault, you want to say, but all that leaves your mouth are noises you didn't think you were capable of making until Caleb touched you for the first time months ago, and he hasn't stopped since. You heard couples would be insatiable for the first few weeks of dating, but it feels like you're never going to go past that phase.

“Can't even speak because my dick's too good, huh?” Caleb chuckles, thumb resting on your lips. He rubs the tip of your tongue, pleased when you dart out to lick him. “You're the absolute cutest...”

The sounds between your bodies are downright lewd. His cum sloshes inside you every time he fucks you to the bed, forming a creamy ring at the base of his cock. He's filled you up so much with his huge cock and cum, that you wonder how you even have the space to breathe.

Caleb's the type to try to be quiet, but he's not holding back his moans now, groaning his pleasure against your ear.

“This feels too good, shit... Feel like I'm gonna cum soon...” He tucks the hair covering your face behind your ear, pressing a gentle kiss at the corner of your teary eyes, so different from the rough fucking he's giving to your pussy. “I'm gonna blow my load inside you. You want that, don't you?”

You nod desperately, leaning your face on his hand that's cupping your cheek. He smiles, nuzzling against you, but the sweet moment lasts only for a few seconds before he thrusts even faster, chasing his release.

“Fuck, here it comes, I'm cumming...” Caleb drives his cock the deepest it can go, his balls slapping against your ass. “Oh, fuuuuck, I'm cumming!”

Thick, hot strings of cum coat your insides once more, crammed into the tight space of your cunt. Your squirt splashes against his pelvis and abs as you moan high and reedy, scratching lines down his back. He hisses at the slight pain, spurting more cum at the feeling, and he collapses on your body, making sure not to suffocate you with his weight.

“Ah... damn... I don't think I've cum that hard in a while...” He ruffles through your hair, soothingly patting your head. “You doing okay?”

“You're too intense,” you say, your voice weak and groggy. You wrap your arms around him, content to fall asleep and let Caleb take care of things from here.

“Hey, don't fall asleep now.” He pokes your cheek, trying to stir you awake. When you open your eyes, you see Caleb smiling, the one that means he's up to no good. “After all that you said, do you really think this will end with just one round?”

[ozzgin]

Yandere! House Monster x Reader

Listen, I woke up in cold sweat at 4am with a vision: you and your stereotypically unavailable gamer boyfriend have moved into a new house. You find out very soon it's not as empty as you had assumed, but your worries fall on deaf ears. The tentacle monster lurking in dark corners just wants to make sure you're not lonely.

[Second Part]

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance (mildly NSFW)

You didn't notice anything strange at first. Maybe it was considering its prey. You'd found a cheap, old house available for rent, and your boyfriend couldn't refuse the extra space for his mancave.

Oh, you poor thing. It watched your lonely evenings, your empty bed at night, your futile attempts to spend more time with your beloved partner. It had originally planned to devour your souls and await the next foolish mortals to enter its realm, but seeing your pitiful state prompted a change of heart. Metaphorical heart, of course.

It started gradually: testing the waters, or what you'd call a courting attempt. Doors opening by themselves, disembodied eyes lovingly gazing at you from the nearby walls. Dark tendrils making their way out of the shadows, just to announce its presence.

"I think this place might be cursed", you told your boyfriend one evening. "I've been stalked by amorphous silhouettes of blight and terror, and they whisper ancient blasphemies to me at night." He let out a worried shout and slapped the desk. "That's cool, babe. I'm kind of losing right now, though, so perhaps give me a minute?"

One night you were awakened from your slumber by a warm touch sliding across your body. You smiled into your pillow as the cheeky hands made their way down, fondling your curves and hungrily searching for your sensitive areas. You let out a soft moan, enjoying the moment, until you heard your boyfriend yell from the other room. Your eyes shot open.

The hands lewdly groping your privates were, in fact, tentacles. Your first reaction was to gasp, but you were quickly silenced by another slippery appendage pressing against your lips. Shh, shh. Allow the creature to do its thing, dear. Surely enough, within minutes you were a drooling mess, holding onto the sheets for dear life.

"You've been in a good mood lately", you boyfriend remarks, idly scrolling on his phone and crunching on his breakfast cereal. You ponder if you should tell him you've been fucked relentlessly by a monstrous creature inhabiting your new home. You glance at the counter and smirk, remembering how you just had to wipe your wet mess from it a few hours ago. "Keep it that way, hun, I could get used to not being pestered every hour", the man jokes with a laugh.

Does it count as cheating if your affair partner isn't really human? Although, you have to wonder if you're still dating to begin with. From the corner of your eye, you can discern faint movement above the young man, a shadow looming menacingly. The eldritch monster would not hesitate to tear your poor boyfriend apart if he tried to mess with its belonging.

[dukeofankh]

If your vision for the deradicalization of right-wing men begins and ends with "other men telling them that that's gross and to stop it" then I'm sorry, you do not understand how masculinity works.

"Men who hold patriarchal status" and "men who are feminists" are two groups who overlap less than you want them to. I'm sorry. That's not solely because men are so happy with patriarchal status that they don't want to risk it by policing misogyny/queerphobia/racism, It's because being misogynistic, queerphobic, and racist, end expressing other forms of toxic masculinity(and often abusively so) are part of how people establish and maintain patriarchal status. The men who have the ability to stop this via nothing but peer pressure are the very people who are doing it. That's by design. And engaging in feminist intervention is, in and of itself, usually the abrupt end of that status and its associated power to persuade misogynistic men.

Like, I have worked in blue collar jobs as a notably queer person. It was pretty much a constant deluge of verbal abuse. In my experience, most blue collar work environments are exploitative, abusive, and bigoted, and very gleefully so. On the occasions I have spoken up about someone saying something that was super fucking out of line (asking me which of the girls walking by was hottest. We were installing a portable classroom at a middle school), believe it or not, they completely failed to be shamed! Because nobody else on the crew gave a fuck. *I* was the weird one. They ghosted me. A full blown company ghosted me. I suddenly didn't have a job anymore because they just straightforwardly stopped telling me where the next job site was.

Like, this doesn't mean that it's your job to do it, but this vision you have of these big groups of men where everyone is on the fence and there is precisely one shit stirrer who can be shut down by a brave feminist man who can single handedly set the example for all these other guys...you are high. You are describing an "everybody clapped" level absurd scenario. Most of these truly virulent misogynistic guys either have zero friends, because, you know, our society is atomized to fuck, or they are in a group where the feminist guy is actually the weirdo who can be shut down and ostracized much, much easier than the misogynists, because there is no such thing as a man misogynists respect who stands up for women.

You might be saying "well, we're talking about longstanding personal relationships, actually. Like, they need to have to want to spend time with you and then, as a side effect, you can mind control them out of being a threat to us."

Problem with that being:

1: Many feminist men also have no friends, see the atomized society above.

2: Feminist men already stopped hanging out with men who make rape jokes because why the fuck would we want to spend time with them.

3: That isn't just because we respect women so hard. We are in many cases talking about men who are also deeply queerphobic, heirarchical, violent and abusive to other men. What initially drew me to feminism and women was a lack of heirarchical squabbling and constant bullying, and the ability to be openly queer. A lot of men who came to feminism did so because they knew that the patriarchy was not a place they would find success or acceptance. These are not the men who are gonna be able to change right wing minds.

4. Men do not view themselves as a monolith. There is no universal brotherhood of men. The actual meaning of the term "Fragile masculinity" is that men are constantly expected to prove that they are deserving of the status of being a member of their own gender. There are large swathes of men--including most of the men who you'd look to as examples of good, feminist men who you want to undertake this project--who are considered failed men, sissies, f****ts, soyboys, ect. They are. Not. Going. To. Convince. These. Men. Of. Jack. Shit. Much less successfully *shame* them. Jesus.

I know all of this sucks. I know it would be cool to be able to just point at a group and have them be responsible for the work. But nah. It's gonna have to be a societal project, one that will probably outlast all of us. Sorry. The thing you want these men to do is, absolutely, the morally correct thing to do. But presuming that it would be effective is, and once again I am so sorry about this, just ignorance of how these social groups function.

[thephantomsdream]

Can't stop thinking about Captain John Price, your good friend's boyfriend, listening to you talk about how you are considering getting a guard dog, and he whole-heartedly agrees with you. John likes you, you're a fantastic friend to his dove and you're sweet, and sweet girls do need protection. So he nods along and tells you he'll look into getting you one, a big one to protect you.

Two weeks later, you're invited to your friend's house, her telling you days before that John might have gotten you a dog, so to prepare! She wasn't sure, he just hinted at it on the phone.

Tell me why, after knocking at your bestie's door, she opens kinda pale and awkward, maybe even a little bit annoyed, inviting you in. Instead of a proper, legit, literal dog, John introduces you to Simon Riley, who stands there awkwardly but tall and intimidating while your friend apologizes, calling her boyfriend an idiot. But John isn't an idiot. For a while now, he thought you'd be perfect for his Lt., this just a funny way to introduce you both. And the only thing that took Simon to agree (after a sharp yet bored no when firstly asked) was to send him a picture of you at a bar, smiling.

Extra:

"So... you come with a leash?" You joke with the tall man, whose eyes wrinkle in amusement. He has been more on the silent side although very atentive, his intense brown eyes on you all evening. Now that you were both alone at the balcony, abandoned by the two love-birds, you tried to ease the tension.

"I don't do leashes but I can pull a spiky collar." He smiles as you giggle. Hell, he felt relief that you did. Even happiness...

"Yeah, it would fit you."

"Yeah?" His voice was low and buttery. "What about a tag with your name on it?" He leans down a little, just enough in your personal bubble, and your stomach flipped. You felt your cheeks warm.

"Can it be heart shaped?" You stare prettily at him and all he can do is to snort to ease the tension.

"However you want it." His reply was quick, eager.

"Deal. But first take me on a proper date."

"Perfect." He smirks.

[thanoskin]

you belong to me

Pairing: Frontman x Reader

Summary: you’re the daughter of a volatile VIP, you draw the frontman’s attention during your visit to the games.

Warning: Smut (+18), Rough sex, Degradation kink, Age gap, Fingering, Dom! Frontman, Sub! Reader, vaginal fluids, overstimulation, Pussy slapping, Unprotected sex, no aftercare.

Word count: 1519 words.

The air was heavy with the scent of luxury-imported cigars, fine leather, and expensive cologne. You sat on a lavish velvet couch in the VIP lounge, nursing a glass of champagne that had gone warm in your hand. Around you, the other VIPs laughed and cheered as they watched the carnage unfold on the massive screen before them.

Your father, one of the most notorious and impulsive of the VIPs, sat at the head of the room, reveling in the chaos below. His booming laughter grated against your nerves, but you kept your expression neutral. You'd learned long ago how dangerous it was to show any weakness around him.

Still, the games didn't hold your interest. Not like they did for him. Your attention drifted instead to the enigmatic figure known as the Front Man, the creator of the games.

He was always there, silent, observing, his black mask concealing his face but not the sharp intelligence in his movements. You'd caught him watching you more than once, and though he never said a word, you felt the weight of his gaze.

Tonight was no different.

You glanced up, and there he was, standing at the edge of the room, his posture rigid, his presence commanding. Even surrounded by the chaos of the VIPs, he seemed untouchable, untamed.

Hours later, it was finally lights out.The VIPs eventually retreated to their private quarters, leaving you alone in the grand lounge, your father was too drunk to notice you were still around. The silence was a relief after the overwhelming noise, but it didn't last long.

"You shouldn't be here alone."

"I'm not afraid of being alone," you replied, your voice steadier than you felt.

He stepped closer, his boots echoing softly against the marble floor. "You should be."

You raised an eyebrow, meeting the dark void of his mask. "Is that a warning?"

"It's a fact," he said, stopping just a few feet away.

"Your father isn't the only dangerous man here."

You set your glass down, leaning back against the couch. "I think I'll take my chances."

The Front Man tilted his head, studying you. "You're not like the others," he murmured.

"No," you said, your lips curving into a faint smile. "I'm not."

He didn't respond, but the weight of his gaze was palpable. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence crackling.

"What do you want from me?" you asked finally, breaking the stillness.

The Front Man stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "What makes you think I want something?"

You stood, closing the distance between you.

"Because men like you don't get involved unless there's something in it for them."

He chuckled softly, the sound distorted through his mask. "Maybe you're right."

His hand came up, the black leather of his glove brushing against your cheek.

The touch was surprisingly gentle, and it made your inner thighs warm.

"Careful.” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, you thought he might pull away. But then his other hand slid to your waist, drawing you closer. His mask pressed against your forehead, the cool metal a stark contrast to the heat radiating between you both.

"Tell me to stop," he murmured.

You didn't. Instead, your fingers moved to the edge of his mask, your breath hitching as he allowed you to lift it just enough to see his lips.

The kiss was slow at first, testing, but it quickly deepened. His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against him as his lips moved against yours. The weight of his mask and the secrecy of the moment only heightened the intensity.

He pulled back, his breathing uneven, his voice rough. "My quarters. Now."

The room was stark, utilitarian, a sharp contrast to the opulence of the VIP lounge. But it didn't matter. The moment the door closed behind you, he was on you, his mask discarded, his lips capturing yours with a ferocity that left you breathless.

You clung to him as he backed you against the wall, his hands exploring, his touch possessive yet careful, as if he were afraid you might vanish.

"You don't belong here," he murmured against your skin, his voice raw.

"Neither do you," you replied, your fingers tangling in his hair as he chuckled at your innocence.

His lips trailed down your neck as his hands slid beneath the fabric of your dress, and he gripped your ass, hard, causing you to gasp in surprise.

Suddenly, he lifted you by your hips and tossed you on the bed, not giving you a chance to breathe as he crawled on top of you like a predator hunting its prey. You were face to face with him now.

He slowly pulled off his mask to reveal an older, handsome man with dark and determined eyes. You kissed him deeply, almost savagely, he let you for a couple of minutes before placing his hand on your throat, pinning you beneath him.

You whined softly, your breaths ragged as you adapted to his strong grip. He let you go, his hands now roaming over the thin fabric of your dress, and tracing over your hard nipples.

“You’re not wearing a bra…” he whispered teasingly, and you blushed as he removed your dress.

He stared at your naked body, ignoring your horny whimpers as he ran his hand through your wet folds. You moaned softly as his thumb grazed over your clit. He smirked teasingly and began to use slight pressure as he moved his thumb in a circular motion on your sensitive ball of nerves.

You moan and writhe, attempting to close your legs from the pressure. Suddenly, you feel two cold fingers enter your aching hole, and you gasp in surprise.

“You’re a virgin, aren’t you?”

He asks, his gaze curious and intense, causing you to look away.

“Answer me when I speak to you.”

You feel his fingers curl against that spongy spot, and you cry out.

“Yes! Please don’t stop..” you begin to squirm, moaning uncontrollably as he continues to curl and thrust his fingers into your virgin hole.

You dig your nails into his back and start to get louder and louder, your moans desperate, and your pussy soaking wet.

Suddenly, he pulls his fingers out and begins to remove his belt, staring at your sprawled and exposed form.

“I need your cock please.” You murmur, and he doesn’t reply, he tosses his belt on the far end of the room and removes his pants and underwear, crawling towards you again. His cock wasn’t too big, but wasn’t too small either.

You found yourself terrified, but your arousal only grew as you stared at his hard, throbbing cock.

He roughly grabs your thighs, spreading them wide, digging his nails into your sensitive skin, causing you to whine.

You closed your eyes and he immediately pinched your inner thigh.

“Open.”

Your eyes flew open at his command, and you whine as you feel his tip against your throbbing clit.

“Look at me while I take you.”

you obeyed, he began to enter you, and you hissed and cried out from the pain. He didn’t respond, but you were grateful for his patience, and his gentle touches as he stroked your legs while he broke you in.

Suddenly, he hit a spot, causing you to moan loudly. He began to thrust quickly, causing you to moan uncontrollably.

“oh fuck!” You cried and used your free hands to try and push his shoulders, desperatey feeling the need to cum already.

he growled and pinned your hands above your head, his strong hands nearly breaking your wrists as you moaned loudly and sobbed.

“Look at me!” He shouted, he was panting, his eyes locked into yours as he fucked you mercilessly.

“I’m gonna cum!” you cried out, trying to close your legs.

“Don’t you fucking….”

you squirted all over his cock, and he stopped moving inside of you. He sighed and pulled out, and you’re rewarded with a harsh slap to your clit.

“You cum when I tell you to, not a moment before that. Understood?”

You cry and before you can respond, he enters you again, pinching your sensitive nipples and tugging the skin as he fucked you hard, and fast.

“Fuck…” he whispered, before pulling out and panting.

He yanks your legs apart again, only to rub your throbbing clit, with force and speed.

You’re overstimulated, and on the brink of cumming.

“Please, let me…” you cried and moaned.

“Come on, squirt all over my fucking hand.”

You squirted hard and he groaned in delight as you coat his fingers in your juices.

“Such a good little…”

He groaned again, kissing your thighs. You’re exhausted and sore, you lay limp and spent, your eyelids suddenly heavy, and before you knew it, you hear the rustling of his clothing being put back on, and the door closed behind him.