#you could even stretch it to trans people

[slithymomerath]

They don’t want us medicated (“do you want to be dependent on that for the rest of your life?”), they don’t want us unmedicated (“please stop doing xyz, why can’t you do abc?”), they just want us to stop being neurodivergent.

[giritina]

Lately I've been dipping my toe into the mess that is transandrophobia discourse, and in the process I've been presented with one question in many forms:

"Do trans men experience misogyny?"

My initial answer was "these terms are all theoretical frameworks for a vast range of human experiences, why would you choose to frame your pre-transition experiences as that of a woman?" This makes sense to me, but clearly isn't satisfactory to many of the people sending me anons. As much as I might want to use my own life as a case study, I can't very well tell these people in my asks box "no, you've never experienced something that could be categorized as misogyny." Still, the question bothers me.

I think that's because the question obfuscates the actual debate. It's clear to me the question we are debating is not one of "experience" but "authority." That is:

"Do (binary) trans men understand what it's like to be a woman?"

My answer? No.

How can I justify that when we have, since birth, been raised as women? Well, because we also have, since birth, been trans men. If we cast aside the idea of transness as a modern social construct or anything other than an innate and biological reality, this has to be true. Even before you ever came out to yourself, you were transgender. Transphobia has dictated every moment of your life. Your idea of what "womanhood" is is not at all the same as a woman's, be it cis or trans. Why? Because a woman does not react to "being a woman" with the dysphoria, dissociation, and profound sense of wrongness that you do. [If you do not experience these things, a cis or trans woman, at the very least, does not identify as a binary trans man.] A woman sincerely identifies as a woman, and identity plays a pivotal role in how we absorb societal messaging.

Let's take homophobia as an example. While any queer person has probably experienced targeted episodes of bigotry, the majority of bigotry we experience must necessarily be broad and social. Boys learn to fear becoming a faggot as a group, but the boy who is a faggot will internalize those messages in a completely different way to the boys who only need learn to assert the heterosexual identity already inherent in them through violence. All of them are suffering to some extent, but their experiences are not at all equivalent. This is despite the fact that they've all absorbed the same message, maybe even at the same moment, through the same events. Still, we don't say that a straight boy knows what it is like to be a gay boy. Similarly, cis women do not know what it is like to be a trans man despite being fed the same transphobic messaging in a superficially identical context. It isn't a stretch to say the same can apply to misogyny.

Because I can't speak for you, I'll use myself as an example for a moment. I'll give my bonafides: I am a gender-nonconforming, T4T queer, white, binary trans man. I am on T, and I have recently come out to my family. I do not pass. My career as a comic writer is tied to my identity as a trans man. I can confidently say I have never been impacted by misogyny the same way as my friends who actually identify as women. This manifested early on as finding it easy to shrug off the messaging that I needed to be X or Y way to be a woman. In fact, most gender roles slid off my back expressly because breaking them gave me euphoria. I was punished in many ways for this, but being this sort of cis woman did help me somewhat. It's easy to be "one of the guys" in a social climbing sense if you really do feel more comfortable as a man. It also helped me disregard misogyny aimed at me or others because it seemed like an shallow form of bigotry. It was something you could shrug off, but it was important for building "unity" among women. I thought this must be the case for all women, that we all viewed misogyny as a sort of "surface level" bigotry. However, for whatever conditional status I gained in this role, there was a clear message that if I did "become" a man, every non-conformist trait about me would just become a grotesque and parodic masculinity.

That was the threat that was crushing me, destroying my identity and self esteem. That was what I knew intimately through systemic, verbal, physical, and sexual abuse. I could express my nonconformity as a cis woman, but if I took it so far as to transition to male? I would be a pathetic traitor, a social outcast. I truly believe that throughout my life people were able to see that I was not just a failed woman, but an emasculated man.

I do partly feel that the sticking point for many is the idea that the sexual abuse suffered by trans men is inherent to womanhood, and therefore inexplicable if trans men are men from birth. While this disregards the long history of sexual abuse of young boys, especially minority boys, I do see the emotional core. I'll offer that the sexual abuse I suffered was intrinsically linked to my emmasculation, my boyishness, despite the fact that I was not out to myself or anyone else. I believe many trans men have suffered being the proxy for cis women's desire for retribution against cis men, or for cis men and women's desire for an eternally nubile young boy. I also believe they have suffered corrective assault that attempts to push them back into womanhood, which in itself is an experience unique to transness rather than actual womanhood.

I'll note quickly that many, many trans men cannot relate to the idea of feeling confident and above it all when it comes to womanhood. Many of you probably tried desperately to conform, working every moment to convince yourself you were a woman and to perfectly inhabit that identity. I definitely experienced this as well (though for me it was specifically attempting to conform to butchness) but I can concede many of you experienced it more than I did. I still believe that this desperate play-acting is also not equivalent to true womanhood. It is a uniquely transgender experience, one that shares much more in common with trans women desperately attempting to conform to manhood than with true womanhood.

One key theme running through the above paragraphs is the idea that "womanhood" is synonymous with "suffering." A trans man must know what it is like to be a woman because he suffers like one. It should be noted that actual womanhood is not a long stretch of suffering. It often involves joy, euphoria, sisterhood, a general love and happiness at being a woman. It wasn't until I admitted to myself I had never been a woman that I was able to see how the women in my life were not women out of obligation, but because they simply were. The idea that you are a woman because you suffer is more alligned with radfem theory than any reality of womanhood.

When I admitted my identity to myself I was truly faced with the ways that my ability to stand up to misogyny did not equate to being anti-misogynist. I was giddy to finally be able to admit to being a man, and suddenly all that messaging that "slid off my back" was a useful tool in my arsenal. Much like cis gay men feel compelled to assert their disgust for vaginas and women after a life of being compelled towards heterosexuality, I felt disgust and aversion to discussions of womanhood as an identity. I didn't even want to engage with female fictional characters. I viewed other people's sincere expressions of their own womanhood as a coded dismissal of my identity. Like many people before and after, I made women into the rhetorical device that had oppressed me. Not patriarchy, not transphobia, but womanhood and women broadly. It wasn't explicit bigotry, but the effects were the same. I had to unlearn this with the help of my bigender partner, who felt unsettled and hurt by the way I could so easily turn "woman" into nothing but a theoretical category which represented my personal suffering.

This brings me to another point: I sometimes receive messages from nonbinary trans mascs telling me that it's absurd to think they don't understand womanhood and identify with misogyny in a deeper way. I would agree that, if you sincerely identify in some capacity as a woman, you are surely impacted by misogyny in a way I am not. However, why are you coming to the defense of binary trans men like me? Less charitably, why are you projecting a female identity on us? Perhaps my experience frustrates you so deeply because we simply do not have the same experience at all. Perhaps we are not all that united by our agab, by our supposed female socialization.

So, no. I do not believe that binary trans men know what it's like to be women. I don't believe we are authorities on womanhood. I do not believe that when a trans woman endeavors to talk about transmisogyny, your counterargument about your own experiences of misogyny is useful. I ESPECIALLY do not believe that it is in any way valid to say that you are less misogynist, less prone to being misogynist, or-- god forbid-- INCAPABLE of misogyny because you were raised as a girl. I also don't believe your misogyny is equivalent to that of a woman's internalized misogyny in form or impact.

For as much as many in this movement downplay privilege as merely "conditional," those conditions do exist. They do place you firmly in the context of the rest of the world. Zoom out and look at the history of oppressed men, and you'll find the same reactionary movement repeated over and over. Attacking the women in your community for not being soft enough, nice enough, patient enough, rather than fighting the powers that be. Why do I believe your identity is more alligned with cis manhood than any form of womanhood? Because this song and dance has been done a hundred times before by men of every stripe. Transphobia is real, and your life experience has been uniquely defined by it since birth. This is a thing to rally around, to fight against, but you all have fallen for a (trans)misogynistic phantasm in your efforts at self-actualization. You are not the first, and you will not be the last. Get out of this pipeline before it's too late.

[sourcreammachine]

look yeah. i’m an Avoidant Personality. i’m terrified of doing anything

it’s not that i present cis in real life. in every fucking way to all my people, i am cis. because i’m fucking terrified of not being. my they/them persona online is basically cognitive dissonance: i’m AVPDing away from the fact that i am, cognisantly for years and incognisantly for my whole life, and always will be, a trans girl. i’m “taking it slow” but have been doing so for years and years and years because i’m so terrified and frozen and unable - because i have personal issues i need to work through before my brain will let me start transitioning

and tumblr was safety for me. that’s how i could be non-binary here. wall-to-wall trans inclusivity and love, when you don’t put your head above the parapet. and hell and hostility if you do, but i never had reason to. i could stretch my wings here. i could be something closer to being me here. one little bit of acceptance in a horrible world

and even here, the QuEeReSt PlAcE oN tHe InTeRnEt, a bigoted little baby man and his spineless enablers are annihilating my community of love and safety, and deleting my friends

my friends are going to keep getting deleted. i may well be. exactly how then am i supposed to find community and love and solidarity with all the people i’ve known and loved and supported. i don’t ever like talking about my head here, but it truly is a lifeline for me in a world of hostility

fuck you Matt. i’ll return the favour. next time you have friends over, i’ll be hovering in the room gradually throwing them all out, and then you too. next time you show your face in public i’ll have you arrested for indecent exposure. if you dare say “hey stop” i will call the police and FBI

i hope your car gets destroyed with so many hammers. i hope your house gets smashed down with a wrecking ball. i hope your phone catches fire in your pocket. i hope you never feel like you’re allowed to exist in any space. i hope all your friends get crushed by pianos. i hope everything you touch fucking explodes in your face

[the-scottish-costume-guy]

I'm really confused about gender stuff? Is gender real or not - and if its real how can people 'play with it'? How can someone want to be a man with breasts or a woman with a penis? /gen

(Guys I have to google tone indicators if you send them, please just use the full word if you want to indicate tone. Nobody I know uses them so I don't really learn them). Gender is 'real' but its a social construct - it's real in the same way money is real, or that a 'high street' is real, or that concepts of 'justice' are real. If humans didn't exist neither would any of those things, and at any time we can decide those things mean different things or can be used in different ways. (E.g. Money's value fluctuates, which street even is the 'high street' can change as places expand, and the ethical concepts that define justice are relevant to the place and time that develops them). You can play with gender because its a very fluid, loosely defined concept. We are in the midst of a collective reinterpretation of what the boundaries of gender are! For some it's a bioessentialist concept (gender is inseparable from one of two biological sexes - this concept rarely takes into account a wider array of biological sexes) which I could take a lot of time critiquing. The short version of that, is that bioessentialism is used to create a false dichotomy in which women are assigned one thing, and men another - due to the complex diversity inherent in people (even excluding trans and intersex people) its impossible to meaningfully define man or woman in a way that doesn't exclude someone that should be in one category, or includes someone that shouldn't. Dissatisfaction with categories of gender stretches back as far as human history goes - particularly visible in sports, politics, occupations, but also in social expectation and the formation of gender roles. The only way to pick apart these rigid categories is to experiment outside of them, and to explore what gender means on an individual basis - rather than conforming to the previous rigid definition. For many people nothing will change, for some that means embracing being a man with breasts, a woman with a penis, or wishing to be those things if they aren't something you were born with. If you separate gender from the physical, then both the physical and your gender become something you can explore independently. Plenty of people want larger or smaller breasts - but we only judge it as 'odd' when someone who has them wants rid of them completely (unless they are a cisgender man who has them due to something like a hormone imbalance) or if someone we think 'shouldn't' have them wants them. It's not much different to that - though please be aware everyone's feelings/experiences are different.

[so-i-did-this-thing]

Hey trans Florida folks - things suck, but I want to make sure y'all have more info so you can better gauge the urgency and expected risk for a new bill.

This is another long post, but please read because a lot of folks are in a huge panic at some misleading info.

You've probably seen this by now:

This is misleading. Be incredibly concerned at the path we're on because it is bad, even plan to leave the state (I am), but drag isn't punishable by the death penalty:

From the Twitter screencap: "Florida has now: 1) made drag in public illegal as a 'sex crime against children'."

Misleading. SB 1438 censors drag in front of minors w/vague, subjective language and threatens misdemeanors, fines, and license revocation for violations. This is meant to scare businesses, and even cities. We are already seeing Pride parades canceled in Florida in response:

From the Twitter screencap: "2) made sexual crimes against children punishable by death"

Too broad. Sexual battery against a child is being made into a capital felony (aka, punishable by death) in the currently proposed SB1342 .

The bill says:

"A person 18 years of age or older who commits sexual battery upon, or in an attempt to commit sexual battery injures the sexual organs of, a person less than 12 years of age commits a capital felony".

If we want a definition of "sexual battery" itself, we can jump to Florida statues at:

https://m.flsenate.gov/statutes/794.011

"Sexual battery” means oral, anal, or female genital penetration by, or union with, the sexual organ of another or the anal or female genital penetration of another by any other object; however, sexual battery does not include an act done for a bona fide medical purpose."

Also of note in this statute:

"Serious personal injury” means great bodily harm or pain, permanent disability, or permanent disfigurement."

I am not a lawyer, but to me, this looks like less of an attack against trans people for existing (via conflation with anti-drag bills), and more a way to target those providing gender affirming care -- healthcare providers or even a child's affirming guardians.

Many states are already trying to set up "aiding and abetting" laws (from the anti-abortion playbook) to punish anyone offering any kind of gender affirming care (from general therapy to vocal coaching) to a trans kid.

Florida might be hoping someone applies the "injures the sexual organs of" component of SB1342 to gender-affirming puberty blockers. Yeah, it's a stretch, but I would not be surprised to see someone try it.

Because we are already seeing the HHS committee consider sending subpoenas to gender-affirming clinics:

"House Speaker Paul Renner said he wants the House to examine how the organizations adopted their recommendations. He questioned whether the guidelines were the result of scientific analysis or whether “the integrity of the medical profession has been compromised by a radical gender ideology that stands to cause permanent physical and mental harm to children and adolescents.”

Emphasis mine. Again, I am not a lawyer, but I would not be surprised to see someone try to hold a gender-affirming clinic accountable for "sexual battery" against a child.

All these separate actions paint a grim picture.

Back to our Twitter screencap: "3) Began allowing death penaltymsentencing at at 8-4 vote instead of a unanimous vote"

Yes, true. This one is scary all on its own because it makes it that much easier for the DeSantis administration to target political enemies.

Everyone should be terrified of this:

Back to making child sexual battery a capital felony & SB1342:

Could we eventually see bills proposed that further broaden - via deliberately vague language or otherwise -what kind of "sex crimes" are punishable by death, thus fully targeting trans people?

For sure, we will absolutely see fascists try to get away with whatever they can and I hope we see more resistance against what is happening now to prevent the escalation towards genocide.

But this specific bill isn't targeting drag and it's important we understand the current threat landscape so we can plan accordingly.

Like. I'm still working on my own plan to flee Florida asap (I am a trans man) but I don't feel at risk of the death penalty just yet, so my "leave asap" is "sell the house in a month" instead of "grab the bugout bag and get in the car NOW".

It is very, very important to understand the threats we face so we don't make rash decisions that could have permanent consequences for already vulnerable people. We need to plan and act on plans with haste, but afford ourselves every opportunity to make decisions with as much accurate information as possible.

What's the status of SB1342?

As I type this, still with the senate, but check for updates at the link below. If passed, it would enact October 1, 2023.

In closing

Again, be careful, be safe, be informed. I am not a legal expert; I'm just a little guy, but the risk landscape has enough threats trans people need to respond to without us thinking drag is currently eligible for the death penalty.

Every trans person in the United States, not just Florida, should be watching what is going on across the country and noting how all these bills connect and escalate. And what could become blueprints at the federal level.

Keep hope, but plan for contingencies that could threaten your job, your housing, your liberty, and possibly even your life. Watch the news, watch your local bills, and do your best at figuring out when you need to break that emergency glass.

My biggest advice to be better informed is to learn where your state posts bills and look them up when they hit the news:

Get used to reading bills and noting when they would take effect

Learn how to follow a bill on its way into law - the stages are usually through various committees, then both the House and Senate can file amendments and ultimately vote in separate sessions to approve, then the governor signs it into law

Understand that a lot of reporting on bills can make it sound like it has passed into law, when it might still just be in a committee.

Not all bills pass, and when they do, not all pass as originally proposed. (This can work for or against us.)

Follow trans political commentators like Erin or Alejandra for more context

Again, it all sucks right now and I don't want to underscore the danger so many transgender Americans are already in (and lord knows I am very lucky to be able to leave Florida). But knowing what we're up against is one of the few defenses we have right now.

I have more advice for trans Floridians here.

[lakesbian]

here's every way wildbow accidentally made pre-meiosis "russel" thorburn transgender that i can remember. if you can think of any reasons i forgot please add on

his parents named his younger sister "ivy," as if the obvious grandmother-pandering name "rose" had already been used up. blake theorizes that they used a male version of "rose" for PMT, but this is nonsensical--there is no male form of the name rose, and everything he comes up with as a possible option (in other words, everything wildbow came up with as a possible option) is a major stretch. most don't sound even tangentially like the name "rose." it makes far more sense to assume that PMT was afab and had the deadname rose. (this also makes sense on a thematic level wrt how rose thorburn jr is supposed to be the Real heir that grandmother is forcing blake to die for, but that's getting besides the point)

rose has memories of being harassed over the inheritance by her female cousins, and the idea of these memories just being wholly pulled out of thin air when basically everything else involves memories either being split btwn blake and rose or erased altogether is weird

blake is friends with, like. a lot of gay people. textually runs in poor gay artist circles. the idea of them adopting this weirdly cool cis straight guy is funny but it makes a lot more sense if PMT was trans + gay and only got turned into a straight guy (and a straight girl) yesterday, due to the homophobia demon

PMT literally thinks "Besides, why devote any more attention to your son, when you could just start over?  Have that beautiful baby girl you wanted, right?" which is also like one of the only pieces of internal narration we get from PMT in the entire story. first girl they named rose ran away and did some shit with their gender so now they have a second girl they can't name rose but can still try to raise to go for the inheritance

in the same chapter as when pmt says that, callan is like ohhh you think youre going to worm your way in-, implied sentence ending being "-to the inheritance," which is, like. the family knows it's going To A Girl. so.

PMT was childhood friends with paige, who is The Gay Cousin. it is deeply sensible to imagine them bonding over this, regardless of whether or not PMT (or even paige) knew at the time

it is, like, fully possible for a cishet dude to get sick of living with his shitty toxic abusive family and abscond at the age of 17, but also homelessness is an extremely prevalent issue among transgender kids in abusive families. the narrative of a transmasc kid growing up in an abusive, catholic extended family where girls are pressured to compete for a very gendered inheritance + leaving at the age of 17 & finding a new home among a bunch of gay artists is Significantly more compelling than the cis dude alternative. it just is.

okay i think im running out of, like, logical errors that make sense only if pmt was trans prior to the Obliteration, so as for the thematic stuff. like i said, rose being the half grammy decided was supposed to be "real" and blake being the half that's supposed 2 die for her 2 exist, rose just being unhappy and disconnected by nature of existence while blake is the parts of pmt that escaped from the constraints of the family + found happiness, so on and so forth. "catholic grandmother literally obliterated her transmasc nonbinary grandchild by splitting them into two binary gendered halves & expecting that the man they could've been die to allow the acceptable woman--literally forced to dress in grandmother's clothes--live on and do as grandmother wished" is Everything, doing the same thing but to a cis man grandchild is significantly less compelling

Others who r very old/operating on what are explicitly stated to be oppressive and antiquated gender roles as per the book's themes about inherited/traditional forms of harm keep mistakenly calling blake she/her and rose lmao

??? probably some other thangs im forgetting

[narcissistshandler]

can I get uhh, trans masc reader pegging trans hobie with a vibrator

(thank u so much…Dom readers that are masc/gender non conforming are honestly non existent. I have never enjoyed reader content until I found yours)

𝗦𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗧 𝗕𝗢𝗬

✧ 𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦 male reader x hobie brown

✧ 𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲 afab!reader & afab!hobie, strap-on, pegging, top!reader, bottom!hobie, anal sex, clitoral stimulation, clit/folds/warmth used for both reader's and Hobie's genitals, oral (hobie giving reader in last paragraph, skip if it makes you uncomfortable), choke on the strap-on (once)

✧ 𝖠/𝖭 i got your other message about adding brat!hobie but totally forgot while writing and hobie ended up a pretty sweet sub here, sorry, but I'm really glad you finally found content you can enjoy, welcome and as always, trans people, feel free to point it out if anything here offends you in any way.

Hobie was certainly more dazzling than the world's most expensive work of art.

Long legs trembling visibly to the eye, your shadow falling over his perfectly angled back and the round ass raised in the air like a veil, fingers gripping his thighs so firmly you could feel every contraction, every strain.

The room filled with the sound of skin slapping with each collision, the wet sound becoming an erotic symphony alongside the loud noises Hobie made, the noises you made. The silicone slipped easily through the dampness and stretching of Hobie's hole and you watched with eyes clouded with pleasure as the cock moved in and out of him, the length glistening with the enormous amount of lube leaking from his ass and stretching him deliciously before your eyes.

Your breath rasped in your own ears, attention focused completely on your boyfriend beneath you, on fucking him until Hobie couldn't think coherently anymore — but considering how his chest was slumped against the mattress after he couldn't hold any longer his own weight, not even the pillow bitten between his teeth being able to stifle the moans and grunts he was making, Hobie already seemed way out of his mind, unable to process anything other than the silicone dick inside him, other than your hands and lips on him.

Your hands came up from his thighs to grip his sharp hips, your own hips undulated, the leather straps biting into your skin and your cock slid deeper into him, harder, using the new grip as a support, pulling him back to meet each one of the movements and you could feel the heat building between your legs, seeping through them.

Sweat glistened down the length of his firm back and you leaned in to lick it, following the small drop from his coccyx to his right shoulder blade, one hand dipping between his legs, fingers finding and rolling the neglected throbbing clit between your fingers.

Orgasm shuddered through Hobie's entire body; erratic hips torn between meeting your continuous strokes and pulling away from the stimulation. You continued to move, dragging tight circles over his clit as you watched him shatter with a clipped cry.

Like the sweet thing that he was, Hobie submitted to your touch, even when the sensitivity became uncomfortable. You didn't stop until you wrung every ounce of pleasure out of him.

You found your voice ringing in the stuffy air that filled the room as you got out of Hobie, leaving him empty and throbbing around nothing. "Good?"

Hobie obeyed your hands pulling him onto his back on the bed, legs opening out of sheer muscle memory to let you fit between them. The expression on his face was one of pure intoxication, the long dark lashes almost touching his cheeks edged by the eyes barely kept open, the full lips parted to expel gasping breaths, and his folds parted between his open legs allowing you to see how wet he was after you fucked his ass.

His head nodded several times.

"Hm?" You teased, one hand on his leg and the other sliding over the length of silicone, rubbing it through the slippery mix of spittle and lube. Hobie watched the movement with fixed attention and you considered how long it would take before he begs you to fuck him one more time.

"Good," Hobie sighed.

"We're not done yet," you warned.

You climbed over Hobie's body, knees tucked into the sides of his head so you could press the tip of your cock against his full lips, which closed neatly around it in a sloppy suck. Your tongue ran across your dry bottom lip and with your hand firm at the base, you drove deeper into his supple mouth, looking into those dark eyes as you filled his mouth.

So deep in Hobie's mouth that his lips were inches from your hand, you pressed just an inch deeper and watched him choke.

You wanted to go even deeper, fuck his tight throat with your cock through the gag reflex. But, you'd have time for that too, when your body's need no longer seemed so urgent.

Hobie's tongue followed the silicone in its slow slide out of his mouth, silver piercing gleaming under the massive amount of saliva that trickled down his chin. He was so filthy. So messy. So obedient. You said it all to him out loud as you swooped down on his face and let any rational thoughts slip away under Hobie's tongue finding the pulsing heat between your legs, the chill of the piercing teasing your sensitive clit and the noises he made while anxiously worked to give you pleasure.

[totghostly]

viktor x male disabled cane user reader

FEMALES, MINORS, NON MLM DNI

no season 2 spoilers. light mentions of s1 events? could be pre-s1 or during.

-- reader is implied to be like 2-4 years younger maybe?? he/him user. could be romantic or platonic. Jayce is here for a good time not a long time LMAO

safe for touch repulsed people, POC, fat, trans, and disabled readers. Written with a transmasc self-insert in mind. Could be any disability that causes pain and fatuige that reader uses a cane for. written by an author with either POTS and EDS or early arthritis.

People don't realize how embarrassing it is to be disabled and have to use an aid. To have the equivalent to a flashing sign that says "try to fix me!" on it. To be "too young" to use it, "too healthy".

Viktor was okay with nonody understanding. He's the Co-Scientist of Hextech, why would he care what some topsider thought? He never boticed how lonely it was to have nobody who gets it. Nobody who understands the frustration, all beacuse your body doesnt work normally. There's not a lot of topsiders that he sees with visible disabilities.

Jayce had been trying to get him to agree to let his friend work at the lab, sense he had went to engineering school a few years after Jayce and Viktor. Viktor, for good reasons, was hesitant to agree to have a stranger working on his lifes work. He agreed, though, when Jayce had sworn he was probably just as competent as them both, maybe more. Though, Viktor found that hard to believe.

The first day he seen him, He got to the lab during a Council meeting and was at his desk for most of the day. He left late into the evening, saying his goodbyes to Jayce and waving softly to Viktor, who reciprocated and went back to work before he left. For someone who prides himself on how observant he is, Viktor is shocked he didn't realize his new lab partners cane earlier on.

He only really noticed it because reader arrived later, something around ten AM. He had his cane in hand while he walked, bag over his shoulder as he yawned. Jayce greeted him, asking if he was okay just to get a curt "it's okay, I'm fine!" as reader sits at his desk.

Viktors mind had been going back to the younger man rather frequently that day, watching as he shifted on his stool, or tried to stretch his legs to get some of the pain to ease away to no avail. Viktor seen the look in his eyes, that haze. Jayce had went to get more parts, sense they had been low for a while and they needed them for their tasks that day. Around a half hour later, Viktor walked up to Readers desk, and sat in a spare stool.

He greets the other, Reader looking up at him as he mumbles a reply. "How ehm.. are you feeling?" he hesitantly asked. He wanted as Reader shifted, "I'm .. fine." He shrugs, taking a swig of his drink. Viktor lets him lie. It can be hard to admit you arent okay.

After a few minutes, Reader leans onto his desk. "..this sucks." he sighs, and Viktor nods. "да." Reader groans in frustration. "I dont know why I cant work like a normal guy." He mumbles, arns coming up to cusion his head. "Life is err.. Unfair, to good people." Viktor says, matter of fact. He scoots closer to Reader, not touching them. His presence is comforting enough though.

It's an unspoken "I'm here. I understand. I see you." and he hopes Reader feels it. He'll be here, whenever Reader needs to vent about it, if ever. Wether it be the frustration , The pain, or just.. How people treat you. He understands. And one day he hopes everyone will care enough to try and understand too.

[city-tickles]

Hi!

Here a couple of new tickle stories from parties I have gone to in NYC. This one has trans ff/m tickling, m/ff tickling and ff/m tickling!

A few weeks ago, I went to another kink party, wearing this shirt in an attempt to get more attention.

It worked because a nice trans couple came up to me and asked if I wanted to session. I agreed and we went over to the rack that looks like this:

I always wanted to try that rack and it did not disappoint. The couple spent about 20 minutes scribbling and tickling all over, mostly my upper body. It was a nice contrast since one of them had sharper nails and the other had softer nails. So my body did not know what to do sometimes. The TicklingDuck device came out again as well, but this time it was used a lot on my neck. I have never been tickled on my neck to that degree so it was a lot of laughing and squirming but there was no place for me to go, so they just went for it. They were also great teasers, talking about how much I love this because I was laughing so much 😂

After that, I ran into them a couple more times and even watched their own couple tickling session but we never got a chance to play more that evening.

Story 2:

I went to a bi-weekly foot party that I last went to in the summer. During that time I met one of the models who absolutely loved tickling.

I got there late and it was very hot and crowded. To break some ice, I session with one girl who isn't super ticklish on her feet at all but is on her stomach so I did a lot of tummy and side tickles to her. After her, I ended up talking to another girl, a tall, blonde woman, about tickling and then my girl from last time came out. I told her that I was gonna session with the blonde and then we can play after. The summer girl asks if I want to do both at the same time and a light bulb just went off!

I decide to session with both at the same time. unfortunately it's real crowded tonight but we managed to find room. It’s a little awkward since we are on couches and behind protection, but right next to you is someone else playing. You just have to block it out and focus on your fun.

One awkward part that happened is that these parties have curtain setups to "protect you" and there was a pause because one of the curtains dropped, so I was def spotted just in stocks, being tickled. I also felt a little bad because we're next to other people playing and I'm sure the guy who is doing foot worship was not here to see my (well taken care of) feet haha but you just roll with it

Initially we take turns tickling each other tickle fight style. Summer tickles me then Blonde or I get her and Blonde gets us both. I was in the middle so they would gang up on me a bit tickling all over my sides.

I asked if I could use my stocks, which they were on board with. So BOTH of their feet are locked in the sticks while they lay back and I do my best to tickle both of them at the same time or switch off. It's the closest I ever felt to being in a video 😂.

I would tickle both of their feet if one person's legs and the other person's foot or stretch myself out as much as I could to get their upper bodies, or get one then go after the other. They would even tickle each other in the stocks. I also got to use the vibration device from tickling duck It was great! I did that for maybe 20 minutes then asked if I could lee

So they have me lay back, put my feet in the stocks, have me put on a blindfold I bought with me, then start to go to down. They're all over my feet with fingers or feathers or the device, or a mix of both. One moment it was a feather, while someone was using their fingers. While I'm laughing the whole time. Then they would switch off with one person on my feet and the other person on my sides and tummy. Later, they had me hold my arms up while one held my arms down and the other attacked my armpits or sides. The only drawback was sometime the nails were sharp and they hurt but it was more good than bad. That happened for about another 20 minutes until I actually gave up (partially cause I knew this would cost so much money)

The cherry on top was the teasing and also lack of teasing. One moment I can hear them having just a regular conversation while tickling me, which was almost worse because they can talk about tv and torture me at the same time 😂 Other times they would tease me saying he’s giggling so much and laughing so hard. They also would say things like “Aww. We could tell he needed this today” even though they were teasing, they were right. I was having a rough couple of days so I did need that laugh.

But overall, it was awesome and worth the money. I was like actually tired afterwards. It’s rare that I have get worn out from tickling but they made it happen lol

Thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed these stories!

[kyouka-supremacy]

This is random, but here's a list of things that aren't technically canon but make official sskk lore to me:

Akutagawa is a trans gay man

Atsushi is bisexual

Akutagawa fell when Atsushi told him “In my opinion, Dazai-san recognized you a long time ago”. Atsushi fell the instant Akutagawa died for him, because that's the first time he started considering him human (the fell first / harder of this thread).

When Dazai told Akutagawa “you know the reason yourself, don't you?”, the implied reason both of them knew about is that Akutagawa loves Atsushi.

Akutagawa is / was romantically in love with Dazai

In his free time, Atsushi reads and often visits the public library (this is canon, but stretching and reiterating)

In his free time Akutagawa sews. He doesn't like reading.

In chapter 87 it was specifically Atsushi to land the blow that killed Fukuchi (and not Akutagawa) because Akutagawa was still holding to his promise not to kill

Atsushi can cook (and he's getting better at it!), Akutagawa mostly can't

Akutagawa has autism and adhd and eating disorders

Akutagawa and Gin live together

Akutagawa is very protective of Gin. He insists that nobody has to know they're siblings, not even in the pm

Atsushi is the big spoon, c'mon guys

Atsushi prefers coffee over tea, Akutagawa only drinks tea

Akutagawa can't cry (disproved in canon)

To their own surprise, Akutagawa is way more willing to touch and cuddle than Atsushi is. Atsushi really isn't used to physical touch, and it takes him a long time to adjust.

Dazai intentionally set sskk up to be the new generation of double black, but didn't predict they would have ended up together.

Atsushi is pretty selfish actually. Way more than Akutagawa anyway.

If they could have grown in normal circumstances, both of them would actually be quite confident people.

Akutagawa's disease was directly caused by Dazai's physical abuse (half canon? I mean he doesn't have it in Beast)

Akutagawa can't hold his alcohol (canon). Atsushi literally can't get drunk (tiger regenerative abilities).

Atsushi sleeps 10pm-6am, (canonly inherited from when he lived at the orphanage, but I shifted it of an hour because like. C'mon. I don't want to curse this guy to wake every day of his already miserable life at 5am). He is the early bird™

Akutagawa sleeps 5am-11am or later (I know it's technically 3am-5am but man I don't want to curse this guy to sleep for two (2) hours every day of his already miserable life). He is the night owl™. I like to think he'd be a sleepyhead once he's found a place he can *finally* feel safe in, which is something he never had, but y'know. Generally this.

Either way, both of them are insanely light sleepers

Excluding external conditioning, Atsushi and Akutagawa are perfectly equal in (overall, not physical) strength. However, Atsushi prevails over Akutagawa in canon because of the effect All Men Are Equal has on him. The same goes for Akutagawa in Beast.

When they're alone together, Akutagawa does most of the talk; which is still not an exceptionally big amount, but still more than Atsushi, who acts strikingly different in comparison to the usual overchatter and chaotic rambler he is with other people.

After they get together, Akutagawa keeps calling Atsushi “Jinko”, while Atsushi will probably shift to calling Akutagawa “Ryuunosuke” at some point. I don't see either of them using pet names.

Atsushi's love language is words of affirmation, Akutagawa's is acts of service.

Both of them highly dislike pda. They try to keep their relationship secret as much as possible.

Atsushi would have been very non overprotective / laid back if it hadn't been for The Incident (Akutagawa dying in front of his eyes). Now he has an hard time leaving Akutagawa alone.

Neither of them have any dating experience

[metanarrates]

MUTUAL AID REQUEST: HELP A TRANS MAN ESCAPE AN ABUSIVE HOUSEHOLD!!

a close friend of mine has recently fled his abusive family and needs help staying off the streets! he is safe for now, but he still needs funds in order to buy essentials and to afford a motel room while he figures out what to do next. I know everyone is stretched thin right now because there are a lot of people who need help, but if you can afford even a dollar to send to my friend, or if you could simply reblog this post, that would help him out a lot!

thank you to everyone who helps!

[nonnieapple]

Afk journey, Sinbad, trans male/gender neutral reader, nsfw fanfiction. (I love this man very much)🤍

⛈️☂️Hook, Line, and Sinker☂️⛈️

• (Sinbad x trans!male!Reader)

• r a t i n g: e x p l i c i t • 4 1 4 0 w o r d s

• p o s t e d: 01.11.2024🌧️ navigation

n o t e: sinbad is so hot, i wish men were real :( s u m m a r y: sinbad walks in at the worst possible time, and the following events complicate your relationship further.

It was nearing night, and the hamsters were fast asleep as well as most guests of the inn. 

  When Sinbad walked into your room, you were staring out of the window with a wistful look, like the look his mothers had when they gazed out at the sea, remembering their husbands, lost forever to the fog and unrelenting waves. He wondered who you longed after, if anyone. Maybe you longed for home. Or for something he couldn't possibly imagine. 

  Before he closed the door, you broke the silence. 

  "You dare disturb my rest?"

  Even turned away, you heard him. Your voice sent tingles up his leg. The room veered towards cold, the windows open, making the curtains flutter like sails. 

  "You're really living it up in here," Sinbad remarked, inviting himself to sit down on the fancy armchair flanked by another and a couch in the west of your room. 

  He hadn't ever been in it yet, and he was sure you wouldn't mind if he just sprawled out a little, he stretched, his boots hitting the leg of the short table. Lit candles sitting upon golden thrones flickered on it. Two glasses and a bottle were there as well. 

  "As I should, I was to have a vacation, and I'm still getting it, Cedartown or not." You made your way to the couch, your visage somewhat blurry from all the glamour swallowing up your form, the air around you swaying. 

  If he looked at you too long, he could see something was terribly wrong. It was not something anyone could notice at first, or at second sight, only those looking for it might begin to pull at the thread. He stopped examining you. He wasn't sure what he'd find. 

  You were like the fog that had almost killed him- leading him in mental circles until he went mad trying to get himself out of it. 

  Sinbad's leg jerked when you approached. You stood, close, your robe made of small, black, and knitted net. It should've revealed everything you wore under it- instead, everything around your chest and hips darkened and blurred. 

  The magic that wafted off you made his head spin. Or maybe it was that he drank too much. Sinbad sighed shakily as you ghosted your touch over his face, your eyes sharp and inhuman. The next second, they turned warm. 

  "Did you drink that swill again? Here, drink something good for once." 

  He barely caught the bottle you threw into his arms, and he thought, somewhat incredulously, You're too kind.

  But, really, Magister- I don't know what to think of you. One second you wanna kill me and the next you're my savior. 

  I'll never know who you are, will I?

  His eyes skimmed over the label. Dark liquid sloshed within darker green walls. "Woah! Fancy stuff. It's actually red."

  The wine he was used to at most establishments was pale, watered down to save costs. You shrugged. You must've been used to good wine, good food, good people. He envied you. 

  "It's from an... old friend."

  The way you said that with so much hesitance made his heart drop. 

  "They must be rich."

  Sinbad popped open the bottle and poured himself some. He might as well indulge, and your room was a good place to do that. Upon second thought it might be questionable. 

  He had to hold back on drinking. He couldn't afford to do something stupid.

  "Beyond that, and a massive drunkard I could never deny, but as I don't drink I have no use for his gifts." You took up the whole couch, propping up your head with a hand, the other playing idly with the belt of your delicate robe. 

  If he was to be mean, he'd liken you to a fish caught in a net, but he couldn't lie, you were more of a siren. 

  You hummed.

  "I guess I could have a glass."

  You poured yourself nearly half the bottle, and swallowed a third of the glass, drinking like a fish. He struggled not to gawk at you. 

  "Old friend... bet you have plenty of those. Not like it bothers me," he tacked on at the end, scratching at his scalp lightly. 

  The fireplace crackled and sputtered red. Strange, it gave off no warmth. Was it magic? Sheesh, what about you wasn't magic? 

  The rug beneath his boots was sure real, and a real good rug, too. If he were to get piss drunk he'd choose the rug over the street to pass out on. Oh, there were even pillows on the floor. Perfect. 

  "I mean it. We were friends, he isn't an old flame- as far as I know."

  As far as you knew?

  "You sure about that?" He raised a brow. 

  "Quite. Though one actual old flame, I wonder how she's doing. It's been a while, I last saw her in Holistone, it has been months since then. Damn Hogan for sending me on this "vacation", now I'm stuck in the middle of the sea with no idea when I'll see him or Valen. He should've gone with me."

  Pushing aside his slight offense at the Rustport slander, you had mentioned General Hogan and Valen a few times. One was a Magistrate and, guess what, General of Holistone, the other some swashbuckling knight who, as he understood it, was hitting on you. 

  "Well, I'm glad he didn't."

  "Hm? Why is that?" You smirked, your eyes glimmering like the wine you swished in your hand.

  If Sinbad was pale, you would've seen his face lose color in an instant. 

  "I mean- I meant- he would've drowned in his armor, is all! It would've been worse than what happened to Chippy." 

  He drank quickly so he couldn't see your gloating expression.

  "You're holding your glass like you're throttling a neck." 

  Even if he drank and drank, he still heard your voice, and if he plugged his ears, you'd get into his mind, too. 

  He couldn't tell if that was a way to hint at his discomfort or point out his terrible manners. 

  "I'm not much of a wine drinker."

  You, on the other hand, held your glass between your thumb and forefinger ever so lightly. That fucking hand was calling him poor just at a glance. 

  "This better?" He emulated the way you did it, though it was nowhere near as graceful. 

  "Much better. The wine compliments your shirt." 

  The red, satin shirt, an illusion you cast, felt good nonetheless, and the wine was divine. It was bright, just sweet enough, and with a hint of berries and zest. It tasted more like the few fruits he had tried than the usual- as you put it- "swill" he drank. 

  It settled warmly in his chest, with the occasional sour tingle in his cheeks. 

  Sinbad didn't want to leave your room. It was fancy, and more importantly, it had wine AND you. 

  "How've you been?" You said between sips, your expression softening. 

  "Good. I've been spending a lot of time poking around the ship, avoiding going to Brineville so I don't have to explain myself. Things are better than before I met ya, anyway, I can finally do what I want, and... everything's so calm." 

  It was strange to not have to think about every little expense anymore for the village now that no one threatened its safety, and he was essentially a "hero". Sure, he still had to make money somehow and Rustport was as rusty as ever, but so much had been lifted off his shoulders. 

  By you, no less. 

  He'd said he'd repay you. That nagged at his mind sometimes. What could you possibly want? 

  It was nothing to worry about. It wouldn't be worse than what he had gone through. 

  "Planning on leaving soon?" 

  If he wasn't mistaken, he saw you frown ever so slightly. 

  "Not yet. I've got a lot to do here before I leave. What about you?" 

  You threw back your head and let your hair spill over the edge of the couch. 

  "You know, been here and there, helping people as I do, went fishing with my familiars. I like helping people and spending time with them but I do need alone time." 

  That was why the hamsters were in another room. Sinbad had to admit, they were cute and had grown on him. You truly were the most precious thing he had ever found washed up on the beach. He'd be no one without you. 

  "Are you leaving soon?" 

  You shook your head. "I want to stay a bit longer, until you leave, I suppose. I won't have much to do then. I'm dealing with people's problems rather quickly." 

  Of course, you weren't staying only for him. You were busy. 

  "I'm glad you're staying a bit longer." He couldn't imagine being without you now. You were the closest friend he'd had. Everyone wanted something from him, and you had asked for the least, always generous, if quirky. 

  You smiled, returning his giddy expression, which he hadn't noticed himself pull. 

  He felt his face get warmer. Must've been all the wine. 

  He and you listened to the crackling of the fire, finishing your glasses. You lounged like a cat. You were the image of peace when you closed your eyes. He rolled up his sleeves, feeling somewhat hot all of a sudden. He waited for you to kick him out, it'd happen sooner or later.

  You watched from under your lashes. 

  "I was surprised that you had tattoos, though they are common here," you said. 

  He had helm tattoos on each forearm. "Funny story, I got them when I was drunk, like, extremely. I don't remember where or how exactly I got them." At least they healed fine and he had not felt much pain. He hadn't felt much at all.

  "They suit you well." Your eyes lingered for a while. 

  "I have more that you haven't seen." He smirked, putting on that smooth-talking persona again. 

  "Although tempting, you won't smooth-talk me, Sinbad," you said sternly. 

  He sighed. A guy had to try. You were so damn hard to scam and trick, it was annoying. You were one of the only people immune to his charms. You were looking at him like he was a helpless animal. Again. 

  Instead of words of pity, he was hit with: 

  "You look upset. Mope in another room, I'm exhausted," you said, yawning and turning away from him unceremoniously. 

  He left with a huff. 

  "Good night to you too, Magister Merlin." 

  ...

  "Good night." 

  He should've been asleep.

  Sinbad crept across the hall towards your newly luxurious room, careful not to make a sound, like he was escaping from a dungeon (like he had many times). 

  Sinbad cracked open your door. Strange, he left it unlocked, he thought. The room was dark and silent except for the sounds of the breeze coming in through the windows, like breaths.

  You seemed to be asleep, as far as he could tell. He was sure he had heard something from your room. Maybe it had been the wind.

  "Magister?" he said into the black, closing the door behind himself. It was not entirely dark, he noticed as he moved towards your canopy bed, as there was a lone candle burning close to the window. 

  The fireplace had no remains of smoldering wood. 

  The windows- they were closed shut. The sound was not from there. Had it been the draft instead? If this was how noisy the good rooms were, he'd go complain to Bols later. 

  Sinbad pushed past the closed curtains of the canopy bed, the fabric heavy and lush, a velvet he hadn't even dreamed of touching before, with much trepidation, his heart tense, ready for a beast to lunge at him any moment. 

  He didn't see what happened, it happened swiftly, the shape in the bed shifting loudly. The sound of the breeze halted. 

  "Ah, Sinbad. I was just thinking of you," you said, and it was undeniably you, your voice quiet yet clear, a little exasperated, your breathing so shallow he would've believed you if you said you had run around the whole of Rustport in a minute. 

  He would've believed you if you hadn't been in your bed all this time.

  "Why aren't you asleep?" he stammered with wide eyes, gaze lost as he adjusted, making out your fuzzy shape. It was leaner than usual. He sensed none of your usual glamours on you.

  "I could ask the same of you." 

  He leaned his knee on the bed, and you moved away. 

  "Some noise woke me up, and I thought it came from your room. Was I right?" He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, seeing that you lay rigid and didn't want him to come near you. To him, it seemed that something had happened, and you were uncooperative as to what. 

  One of his jobs was to get information. Clearly, he wasn't much good at it with you around. 

  "Did something happen, Magister? You're worrying me." His brows lowered over his honey-brown eyes. 

  "You didn't knock. You should leave my room." The light brightened against your face. Your skin was dewy and your hair was disheveled, the bedsheets in disarray. You were a mess. 

  The Merlin, a mess? 

  "I did know- and- you can't kick me out again!" He leaned over you as you leaned against cushiony pillows.

  You pushed on his chest to get him away, your hand hot and humid. 

  "... Are you dense or what?" you snapped. "What do you think I'm doing in a dark room, alone, in my bed, gasping for air?" 

  His face transitioned from bewilderment to horror. 

  Oooh.

  Embarrassment hit him like a wave. Holy Tritonus, he had heard you moaning. In this case, he was dense beyond belief. And the reason you were recoiling wasn't because something was wrong, it was, because, well. He chose the worst possible time to intrude. 

  And the reason your frame seemed leaner now was because you had no glamours concealing your body indeed, and no clothes besides that robe. He could see your bare skin between the fabric you held together with a tense hand. 

  He had trouble not looking. And it wasn't the wine, that had long left his system. 

  "Shit, I... I didn't..."

  He had no excuse, and so close to you, caging you in, neither of you could escape, captured in the world's most awkward stalemate. The words drowned in the depths of his mind.

  "You said you were thinking about me earlier. Do you mean...?" he trailed off, his voice mumbling and strained. Everything felt like a dream. He'd pinch himself if he wasn't frozen. 

  "I left the door open for you. I didn't expect you to come." 

  Sinbad's breathing had accelerated. He had already had thoughts about you. He couldn't possibly resist anything you asked him to do. That hint of servitude remained in him, and he was all eager to please. 

  "I'm here." He tried to smile, but it came out rather strained. 

  You pulled him in by tangling your hands in his freshly dried hair. Your lips were one push away. 

  He had already gotten ready for bed- his skin infused with whatever fancy soaps he managed to snatch this time. It mixed with that woody scent of a faraway home that clung to you no matter how many times you got drenched with rain or seawater. 

  "So?" 

  He felt your every breath. Berries. 

  "So..."

  You kissed him first. 

  You were far from a reserved, shy mage. You nipped at his lip and broke the kiss just to piss him off. 

  He cursed like the sailor he was. Next thing he knew, his boots were lost in the dark along with his scarf (it felt like sacrilege to wear it during this), his shirt untucked and partially unbuttoned by your nimble fingers. You traced over the anchor tattoo between his collarbone and shoulder. 

  That wasn't how he expected you to find it. 

  Your hips were fuller than they appeared, filling him with thoughts he couldn't possibly speak, and your waist was small, perfect for holding when he-

  Your chest wasn't quite... flat. That made him stop. His silent question hung in the air. 

  "I'm trans," you said, amused at how he was surprised by you again and again. You had hidden your chest to a point where he couldn't have guessed. 

  He had never been with someone like you (in any sense), but he didn't mind. 

  Your chest was soft, each breast perfectly fitting into his hand. At each caress and pull you reacted accordingly. It was his turn to be amused, and he was enjoying it immensely. 

  Your face and voice did not falter, the only thing betraying your feelings being your shallow breathing. Would your breaking point be easy to reach, or would he reach his first? 

  Goosebumps raised on your thighs when he felt them up with his calloused fingers. Only the richest of the rich could have pristine hands in Rustport. Sinbad spread your legs with little resistance from you, his hand wrapping around most of your thighs' circumference. 

  His hand dipped between your legs. You were wet, the wetness covering parts of your inner thighs. The hotness ignited a fever in him, a fever he hadn't felt in a long time, and never so strongly. Most of his prior fucks were hookups, and sometimes, to get out of uncomfortable situations in his jobs. They didn't happen often and he hardly looked forward to them. With you, he could hardly stop his hands and other body parts of his from thrusting right into you. You were by far the hottest guy he'd been with.

  At the rough touch on your clit you jolted with a soft sigh, your legs closing on instinct, but they were stopped by Sinbad being in the way. 

  The thought crossed his mind that you were surrounded by others from all sides, and at any second, anyone could walk in. He didn't mind- he liked a bit of danger. 

  "How are you feeling?" he whispered close to your ear, hand exploring all the places that could feel best for you. He would make sure you'd remember this as a positive memory, and even if you left and never saw him again, the scene would stick in your mind.

  "I've been better," you said with a shortness of breath, but impressively coherently.

  "Don't you think this is a bad time for jokes?" Would you still talk like that if he filled you up? Would your face still be so serene? 

  "It's a perfect time for-" he interrupted you as he slid his finger over your clit over and over again, making your legs tremble and your brows lower. He might've not been experienced, but he was a quick learner.

  After he got you to a point where you were panting and your pulse hammered relentlessly, he lowered his finger to your entrance, teasing it. You covered your mouth. A thin string, like fishing line, followed his hand as he withdrew. 

  Sinbad began with one finger, your tight walls even hotter than your wetness. Fuck. It felt amazing on his fingers. It might've made him cum instantly if he tried fucking you like that. 

  "Relax your muscles, there's no need to be tense," he said soothingly. 

  You visibly stopped straining and let him push his finger in fully. It circled your smooth cervix. You were pretty shallow inside. 

  He was clueless at that point, unsure of what to do for you. 

  "Curl your finger towards yourself."

  Now you were the one close to his ear, leaning on his shoulders so he could have better access and less lewd sounds would be heard. 

  When he curled it as you said, he felt a spongy tissue that gave way under his prodding. You bit into his shoulder with little regard for how much that shit hurt. It would leave a mark, or even better, a scar. Yay. One more to the arsenal. He would have a hard time explaining that one, as it was in a visible place between his neck and shoulder muscles. 

  He groaned at the pain, pulling you halfway onto him. One hand of his rubbed your clit, and the other, inside you. You must've been leaving a hickey judging by the slight tingle on his neck. It made him harder than he already was. 

  Feeling every little groove inside and outside you couldn't be replicated by just ramming his dick in, and he thanked you that you had made the choice, since he was unwise- in general. 

  "What would your love-struck Knight think, Magister?" He pressed his lips into your shoulder. Slim, but surprisingly muscled from carrying every situation you got into on your shoulders. 

  You'd look good on top of him. With other people, his mind veered into nonsense and mundane thoughts of what he'd have for breakfast. Right now all he could think about was you, you in every way, in every angle, his. Everyone was right- he was greedy. Just not about money. 

  "Getting fingered by someone you met, what, a month ago? If even that?" Sinbad smirked, making sure you saw his expression. You bit your lip and gazed at him like you were oh so woeful. Would you tell the Knight what you'd done tonight? He didn't care if you did or not, but if you did, Sinbad would've loved like to see his face. 

  "He'd be jealous, I bet," you stuttered out with each thrust and curl of his finger, and when he added a second, you were reduced to adorable huffs and sighs, far from the virtuous Magister Merlin out in Rustport streets, a man of class and poise. A man who was now gasping for air with Sinbad's fingers deep in his cunt.

  He kissed from the swell of your chest, up to your collarbones and neck. You were not a man, not a human, you were a dream, a fog a foolish sailor like him would lose himself in.

  Screw him trying to make you never forget him. He'd never forget you, as he fell for you hook, line, and sinker, a fish falling for bait. He would never find someone like you. Someone who so easily saw through his tricks and had him willingly serve. 

  He could do it every night, sneaking in, fucking you whichever way you wanted him to, and acting like nothing was afoot. 

  You got him. 

  He kept gently fingering you as you gasped in an orgasm, one quite notable, your body going soft against his, your skin sticky and heart pounding. 

   What he had done felt automatic, like his body wasn't entirely his, his rhythm mechanical in nature, following your every whim and whine. He had just gotten you off, willingly, giddily, even, and enjoyed it. 

  That had been a first for him. 

  The first thing you said to him once you regained your breath and composure was: "Go wash your hands." 

  What a sweet way to snap him out of it. 

  It was fortunate that you had a bathroom attached to your bedroom. He didn't feel keen on doing a walk of shame through the halls. 

  The mirror revealed to him how hard you'd bitten him, leaving not only a hefty tooth mark, but even a hickey, too high for his scarf to hide. He cursed you inside his mind. All things considered, it was expected to have him do whatever he wanted to you, not the other way around. If you told him to jump into the sea right this second he probably would've done it. A flush was blooming across his face, not too obvious, but there. 

  You were next in the bathroom, and when you returned, Sinbad was on your bed, grinning. He did not budge a muscle.

  "You're not kicking me out again, Magister. This handsome face needs its beauty sleep." 

  "I'll allow it," you said, tucking yourself in on the other side. Sinbad lay curled to take up as little space as possible. It wasn't exactly comfortable. You neared him, tugging his arms around your back, and you entwined under the thick blanket. 

  Hook, line, and sinker. 

  He didn't want the morning to arrive and so cruelly take you away. He'd savor every moment he had with you. For once in his life, he did not feel bound to you by duty, but by the call of his heart, similar to how he felt about the sea. Like the sea, you'd pull him in, and keep him wallowing in feelings so alien. 

  Did you know what you did to him? He didn't need you to. He just needed you close. 

  "Good night," he said. 

  "Seriously this time?" 

  "Seriously, I promise." 

  The lone candle flickered out.

[beemers-hell]

Can we get some Sanford hcs?

alright yall know the drill lol

Sanford HCs!

Around 40~45ish

Trans man, mlm

Around 6'05", same height as Doc

Black

Partially deaf, he wears hearing aids on account of him being a bit too reckless with his demolition experience. Aside from that, he isn't dealing with any major afflictions, aside from the occasional body aches and pains, which a lil bit of stretching and exercise can fix!

He has some trouble regulating his tone of voice, and by that I mean he shouts like 90% of what he says. He's not trying to be yell all the time, he just has a habit of over projecting his voice!

Ex merc employee, which is where he learned most of what he knows regarding explosives and other demolition related shit. He defected on account of 2b offering him a better paycheck + living situation, as well as as much free medical care as he could provide

Speaking of medical care, Sanford knows his way around most medical procedures! He was initially interested in becoming a doctor before shit hit the fan. Hes extremely good at administering first aid on the fly and improvising if he's lacking materials needed to help with an injury while out on the field, and he'll sometimes assist Doc when he has to patch up one of his employees. His hands have operated on Hank's body more times than you'd think!

Sanford, a majority of the time, is very calm and collected, and acts as the straight man of the gang, but when he gets into the groove of the slaughter, oh boy does he get loud and proud! He's quite boisterous and loves taunting his enemies when he gets into the swing of fighting. Aside from that, he's fairly laid back, and only joins in cracking jokes and what not if deimos initiates that kind of thing first!

Hes a bit of an alcoholic, hes not too far gone in his addiction like deimos is and will regularly switch up alcohol for coffee in order to try and deter himself from truly falling victim to addiction

He doesn't really know how to cook much of anything, but damn does he know how to make various types of mean ass soups! It was his favorite thing his mom would make.

Hes a fairly chill dude, and very friendly (or as friendly as you can reasonably be in an apocalypse), and though his demeanor reflects this, man he just does not know how to smile, his smile is so unnerving that people mistake him for being hostile even if he isn't!

[titanrpg]

you got a minute? I need a favor

Hey everyone, it's Lex. Happy New Year to you and yours!

Today, I have a huge announcement about Titanomachy RPG and its future. This month marks 3 years since I joined TTRPG Twitter. I've met so many incredible people and learned so much from y'all. Your support has allowed me to take one HUGE step in my life. 

I recently moved to Maryland from Florida to get some basic human rights. I also left my job of 7 years to try and live unburdened by selling hours of my life to some random rich guy. And now, I'm taking Titanomachy RPG full-time.

Here I am, already having taken the leap. I have some money saved up, yes, but ultimately I am trusting in the generosity of others to help me build out a life I can truly love.

So yes, this is a Patreon announcement. And there's a link to Caltrop Core below (if you want to make a one-time contribution). But before anyone exits this email, I want to talk about all the cool stuff everyone can expect from me, regardless of Patreon status or donor status. I have a lot of exciting things coming in 2024, like:

a NEW open license d12 system called DODECA!

physical copies of my games becoming available via Indie Press Revolution, starting with NIGHTHAWKS!

more consistent game & system releases

seeing more of my work in some upcoming Evil Hat projects (look for me in the Girl by Moonlight stretch goal zines)

prints of "prayer to curse ron desantis", bunny girl osr posters, and perhaps shirts/hats/merch?

ttrpg workshops IRL in the Maryland area

and much much much much more!!

Now, here's the link to my Patreon before I forget: https://www.patreon.com/TitanRPG

I have an AWESOME founding patron bonus. There are 3 tiers of membership, and no matter which you choose to join today, you'll get a pre-release PDF of GOLDEN BEETLE PLAYGROUND, my Medabots-inspired TTRPG built on Caltrop Core EX.

This bonus is ONLY for people who join this month. After January, I'll take it down to work on the game further (and eventually do a full release later this year). 

For tiers 2 and 3, I'll be releasing one short RPG every single month. These games will remain Patreon exclusives until I can put proper polish on them (or the patrons vote to release their favorites).

There's a bunch more goodies and details on my actual Patreon page. Click that link to see!

Eventually, I'll be putting merch up on that page, so even if you can't support with a monthly pledge, you'll be seeing posters, shirts, hats, all that very soon!

These days, I'm on tumblr every so often, but no other social media. Patreon will be my dedicated page for updates, game mechanics, design discussions, everything! Even if you join at the $3/month tier, I want to provide a ton of value, starting with GOLDEN BEETLE PLAYGROUND!

Click here to see the three membership tiers and support a trans game designer today!

Thank you for your support over the past 3 years. I hope to remain worth of it for many more years to come.

All my love,

Lex Kim Bobrow

Publisher, Titanomachy RPG

P.S. Here's the link again. Take a moment to check out the page please, and if you can't contribute, please tell your friends! I've lost touch with so many people after leaving Twitter, so any help in getting the word out is 10000000% appreciated!!

P.P.S. If you could reblog this post ASAP, I'd really really appreciate it. Thank you!!!

[girlycocksleeve]

Sometimes I write porn :) If you have any suggestions for things to write, let me know.

Tags: public use, misgendering, rape, gang rape, transphobia, forced breeding, aroused victim, public humiliation, slut shaming

He had seen news about the new laws surrounding trans men, fakeboys or cuntboys as the news called them. Hell, he had even seen men getting fucked on the street, in cafes, anywhere public. But he hadn’t considered that the new free use laws would affect him, after all, he was fully stealth and had been for years.

So, when the hand grabbed his ass on the subway to work his mind didn’t immediately jump to the fact that, legally, he was just 3 holes and a pair of tits for everyone else to use.

“Hey, what the fuck?!” He spun around to see another man grinning at him.

“Oh, come on, it’s obvious what you are.” His blood ran cold as the man reached forward and tore his button down open, revealing his binder. They were drawing stares now from other people on the subway, and hands were taking off the remains of his shirt, unbuttoning his pants, as he stood there frozen still not processing. Men pushing up his binder to reveal his C cup tits, fingers pinching and twisting his nipples, finally snapping out of his trance.

“No, no, please don’t do this.” He started struggling and immediately was being held in place as fingers found his cunt, his wet cunt.

The man who had started it laughed, “You wouldn’t be dripping if you wanted us to stop. You’re nothing but a slut like all the other cuntboys.” He wanted to sob as a finger plunged into him, then two, as someone else rubbed his clit. He hadn’t had sex in years, was practically a virgin.

All of a sudden he was being bent over and a cock was sliding through his folds before catching and entering him, stretching him open. Whoever’s cock it was clearly wasn’t in the mood to be patient and was immediately fucking into him, hard and rough, and it burned.

He went to scream and another cock forced its way into his mouth, making him gag as it hit the back of his throat.

“God, her pussy is tight.” He wanted to sob at the words, at being called “her,” but instead his cunt just clenched. The man fucking him laughed, “Seems she likes the dirty talk, huh, slut?”

He shut his eyes and tried to pretend he was anywhere else, and the man fucking his face pulled out and slapped him. “You were asked a question, bitch.”

“No, no, I-“ another slap and he sobbed.

“Don’t lie to us, we can hear how wet you are.” It was true. His cunt squelched on every thrust, his own traitorous arousal slicking the way for the rough fucking.

“Tell us how much you like getting used like the whore you are.”

“I-“ He was still getting fucked, and each time the man bottomed out it forced the air out of his chest in a way that could be interpreted as moaning. “Please stop.”

The man pulled out, the head of his cock now pushing against his ass. “If you don’t like getting your cunt fucked, maybe we should try anal instead?”

“No, no, take it out please!” He yelped the words out, pain lacing them as his virgin asshole was breached, “Please fuck my pussy.”

“Good girl, but you can do better than that.” He had stopped pushing into his ass, but he hadn’t taken his dick out, instead leaving himself still an inch deep.

“Please, please fuck my girly cunt. Please use me like the breeding bitch I am. I need your cock in my pussy please.” He hated the way the words went straight to his clit, hated the unmistakeable moan that was forced out of him as the man went back to his pussy. The cock appeared back in front of his face and without needing to be asked his was opening his mouth and started sucking, running his tongue along the underside of it.

Men took his hands and started using them to jerk themselves off, and eventually he felt someone cum on his face, a sensation that made him shudder in either disgust or arousal, although he wouldn’t admit to himself which one it was.

The man in his pussy started speeding up his thrusts, and soon he felt his orgasm building. “Gonna cum in you, knock you up. Make sure you can never hide what you are again, understand?” The words were what pushed him over the edge and he trembled through it, cunt pulsing around the cock inside him as the man made good on his word and cum flooded into him.

“Fuck, good girl.” The man pulled out and was immediately replaced by another, pushing into his oversensitive pussy, causing him to whine.

“You’re gonna swallow, understand, slut?” The man in his mouth was breathing heavy as he said the words, and seconds after was cumming into his mouth. He swallowed it down dutifully, expecting it as the cock was soon replaced by another.

Quickly he fell into a rhythm, neither pussy nor mouth getting more than a couple seconds rest. He wasn’t sure how long it had been or how many loads he had taken, but eventually it was over, and he was left on the floor of the subway. Mouth and throat aching, barely able to close, and cunt on fire from overuse.

[manorpunk]

“I don’t know. Whenever we try to do stuff, me and Zoey, half the time she starts crying and freaking out, and she says it’s not my fault and she says she likes me, but…” Saintjohn Hadouken sighed through pinched lips, hard enough to make his cheeks puff, and shook his head, “...feels like I’m hurting her.”

Johnny Newsroom looked off into the distance and took a pensive pull of his vape. “She said she likes you?”

“Yeah. I just don’t know what’s going on.”

Johnny turned his head to look him in the eye. “Have you ever dated a trans gal before?”

Saintjohn shook his head. “I’m fuckin figuring out some shit about myself, bro.”

“It’s… she’s… let’s put it this way. Imagine if your dick looked like a scary clown.”

Saintjohn flinched. “I don’t wanna do that. I don’t wanna use my brain powers for evil.”

Johnny continued. “Imagine if every time you took off your pants, a fucked-up evil clown was staring back at you. Imagine trying to get close to someone while you’re like that. Imagine trying to have a sex life. Imagine just trying to love when you’ve got an evil clown under your pants.”

Saintjohn’s frown seemed to stretch beyond the limits of his face. “Can I stop imagining it now?”

Johnny took another pull from his vape. “I don’t think Zoey gets to stop. Everyone’s got a different relationship to their own body, I don’t know Zoey personally, but...” he trailed off, letting Saintjohn fill in the blanks for himself.

Saintjohn leaned against the side of the motorhome and sighed again. “So what am I supposed to do?”

“Do you love her?” Johnny asked.

A pause.

“She makes me happy. When she laughs at my dumbass jokes, I feel like I just cured cancer.”

Saintjohn smiled as soon as he started talking about her. Johnny knew that smile, he felt its residual warmth, the second-hand joy. He wanted the two of them to be happy. He wanted one good thing to happen in the middle of this disaster. The Midwest Autonomous Zone could burn to the ground all over again. As long as he helped two people fall in love, he would have no regrets.

“And, y’know, I wanna get all up in there,” Saintjohn said.

“Okay. Well. To answer your question. Be patient. Let her do things at her pace. Let her figure herself out. Give her space when she needs it, even if you never want to be away from her. If you mess up - and you probably will, we’re only human - swallow your pride, apologize, and try not to do it again. Trust that it will all work out.”

“That sounds really hard.”

Johnny gave him a wry smile. “That’s love.”

[later]

“I’m sorry,” Zoey sniffed, pulling away from Saintjohn, “I just can’t right now. I don’t know if I’ll ever…”

She buried her head in her hands. Her body shuddered with heavy breaths as she began to cry. Saintjohn looked at her. He considered putting a hand on her shoulder, then lowered his arm and simply sat next to her.

“It’s okay,” Saintjohn said, “I understand. You gotta deal with the evil clown.”

Zoey lifted her head. She was too surprised and confused to keep crying. “What?”