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#Trans guy posture
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shocked I haven't turned into a rolly Polly yet.
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aroacesigma · 3 months
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Sigma bsd is representation for trans guys who are soooo fucking eepy
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elb4ckfl1po · 5 months
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yknow what they really dont talk about in post-top surgery life is having to unlearn the slouch that hides your boobs
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pens-personal · 2 months
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Aight so I got trans tape (finally 😭) and at the moment it is not quite binding my tits (I'm sure if I applied it differently it would work but whatever) but when paired with my regular binder it DOES solve the problem of my tits squishing together which was a major sensory issue for me so that's great 👍
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werewolf-loverboy · 1 month
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transmascs that aren’t allowed to bind 🤝 having horrible posture
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soupacool · 4 months
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I'm not trying to derail I am venting on my personal blog. No tags or hope for engagement or whatever.
But why the fuck am I seeing this sentiment popping up again and again today blaming transmascs in a situation where a cis man is being transmisogynistic? Why does this point get continuously reiterated? Like I know I have my own bubble but overwhelmingly transmascs are in support of the transfems on this site who are clearly facing a very transmisogynistic issue. But then to blame transmasculine people for disunity within the trans community when shifting blame on to us for something we are not responsible for?? I'm not saying that transmasc people cannot partake in transphobia and misogyny and transmisogyny but I dunno it just seems unnecessary to me in this moment.
This is not the main issue at hand. I am not pretending this is a bigger issue than the transmisogyny built into the systems of Tumblr and the internet and everything. But it is deeply frustrating to me
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vamptastic · 1 year
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i think my constant seething rage is honestly very reasonable. i literally live in florida.
#got in argument with a guy the other day abt idk. trans athletes#was basically him trying to explain what the issue is to me (i know. that's kinda step one to having an opinion on it.)#and then going yeah huh i guess you're actually right (i was)#and i was like okay great cool we're done here let me go to class and he starts talking about like#how he still loves trump for this and that reason kinda unprompted (sorry you lost an argument dude go introspect somewhere else im LATE)#and i was like yeah idk abt that. on account of all the corruption. and the foreign policy youre saying is like manly macho man strong is#mostly just wildly stupid posturing that's going to achieve nothing at best and world war at worst#and he goes no don't worry i think DESANTIS would be better for 2024 actually#and i. UNDERSTANDBLY. was like oh okay i cannot speak to you (because i am visibly shaking with rage)#and he goes well i think you are misattributing my intentions (cunt.)#and i said no no i don't think you're malicious i just think you're stupid and wildly misinformed#and then left bc i was about to either hit him or start crying (bc that guy has been like very tangibly ruining my life for months#and i genuinely cannot fathom what fucking tax issue or whatever one would value over like. my right to idk. Exist atp.#and also this coming from someone who just tried to be like no i know so many trans people i love trans ppl im not like those conservatives#like try to dig deep down into whatever rotted husk of a brain is left in your skull and fathom why i might have a strong reaction to your#support for DESANTIS and the SPACE LASERS WOMAN#you fucking idiot.)#and was that civil. No. and now i have to apologize to him bc i feel bad about it even though i fully meant it#idk its what i get for trying to change peoples minds with stupid things like#' statistics ' and ' a utilitarian perspective ' and ' existing legal basis for my argument '#guys so wrapped up in their right wing bubble they just dont wanna hear it#n they always assume i mustve not heard their talking points and its like look at where we fucking live#and look at the state of the world. NOBODY in any form of mainstream news shares my politics lmao#you think i havent heard every conceivable argument abt trans people??? also you think im dumb enough to form an opinion without looking at#the other side? yeah man i know about the three trans women who have ever won a sports competition ever. do you?#do you even know their fucking names or sports or trial outcomes.#GOD just fucking. pseudo intellectual facist horseshit like pragru and infowars masquerading as legítimate sources#are making so many dumbass illiterate (i truly don't think they have the reading comprehension to decifer a study or even long article)#guys think they're gods gift to politics bc they listened to someone else tell them what a source says through ten layers of propaganda#just. uh. everyone should die forever and also learn to read.
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sensible-tips · 2 years
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Fitness Friday
Strong lower back = less slouching, less pain!
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girldickconnoisseur · 7 months
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unfortunately i have to see discourse on my dash every day that makes me think some of y'all are really only posturing about the whole being a gender weirdo freak thing
"can you treat a trans woman as an equal if she has visible facial hair, or a trans man who has visible breasts?" is a good starting point but let me ask you some more questions.
could you have a normal conversation with a 50 year old transsexual who still considers himself a mother to his son? can you be in community with retransitioners and genderqueer people with non-normative transition trajectories? can you have a nice chat with someone who was afab and calls themself transfemme, or with someone who was amab and calls themself transmasc?
and even more! do you welcome the guy in a dress who calls himself a transvestite and has been doing drag every saturday for the past 10 years to your pride parade? are you willing to hear out the young woman who had bottom surgery at 18 and now kinda wishes she didn't? do you actually respect the people who decide not to go on hrt or to get surgery due to their family's medical history?
they may be hypothetical to you, but those are the people i have met and hang out with every day.
and you might answer yes to all of these, obviously, but could you actually say that when actually meeting them? because i've seen for myself that, no, the hypothetical and reality don't always align.
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legopenne · 2 years
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Hrg
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doberbutts · 1 year
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So there was this one post I passed which was more or less "I've been on testosterone longer than you've been out" said in an argument between two trans guys and not only did I think that was potentially the most childish and ridiculous posturing I've ever seen about trans senority but also
Dude was 7 years younger than me.
So my brain instantly went "lmao I came out when you were 6 and I have been out surviving in a world in which you could not have gotten your precious testosterone in a safe, legal, or fair manner for longer than you have known the word 'transgender' but go off I guess"
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asuyaka · 4 months
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Worst Gen. trio (+ Ace) with a transmasc reader!
★ - Absolutely frothin at the mouth ab Corazon n Law guys,,
☆ - Trafalgar D. Water Law, Eustass "Captain" Kidd, Monkey D. Luffy, and Portgas D. Ace x TM! Reader.
♡ - Reader has space-manipulation devil fruit powers! (❁´◡`❁) (only brought up like,, twice... oopsie!!)
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— TRAFALGAR D. WATER LAW.
Law is a doctor, so of course he knows what to do when it comes to his boyfriend!
Always reminds you ta take off your binder if he notices that you've had it on for too long, and makes sure you take your T-shots on time!
If you've already had top surgery, your scars are somethin he's absolutely smitten over.
Genuinely, when you two getting ready for bed he always prefers you with your shirt off because something about your scars (or your body in general) s'so attractive ta him ??
Bein a doctor, he's always available ta do any surgery you want him to, as long as he knows the safest way to do it so you don't get hurt!
Law sat at his desk, a cup of coffee next to a pile of books with a lamp close by to illuminate what he was reading. He grumbles slightly, rubbing his eyes and taking a sip of his coffee.
You walk out of the bathroom with one of Law's button-ups and shorts, lazily rubbing your eyes and walking up to where your boyfriend is.
"You're a doctor and still won't go to sleep early?" You mumble into his neck as your arms wrap around his shoulder. He takes a deep sigh and lets his book down, bringing his hands up to rub against your arms.
Before you know it you've switched places with the book he was reading, now on his desk with a slightly confused expression, slowly turning into one of worry when you're finally able to see your boyfriend's face.
His eye bags have gotten worse and his posture makes him look like he's a shrimp. "Law..." You mumble worrily. He interrupts you with a hug, burying his head right underneath your surgery scars (that he did for you).
With a sigh, you pull him closer and rub his hair gently, feeling all the stress leaving his body. Law has always been one to overwork himself and not know when to stop, especially before letting go of his ties to Doflamingo.
"Do you want me to ask the others to get you tea?" You ask tentatively, keeping your voice soft just in case he's close to falling asleep.
He just grumbles and squeezes you closer, his tattooed fingers drawing air images on your pecs. "...warm..."
Giggling at Law's words, you press a kiss on his head and wrap your legs around his torso. The two of you stay together in comfortable silence until you feel his hands slowly fall from your chest and his breathing even out.
With a tiny smile, you use your devil fruit abilities to gently move the two of you onto the bed, situating yourselves so you don't wake Law up.
As you place the blankets over your bodies, you hear Law mumble something about a person named 'Corazon' and how the person was meeting his boyfriend—you— for the first time.
You place a soft kiss on his forehead, letting out a small giggle as he instantly squeezes you closer and buries his face in your chest.
No one would've thought the 'Surgeon of Death' Trafalgar D. Law was a cuddle bug at night.
Except you, of course.
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— EUSTASS "CAPTAIN" KIDD. | DISCLAIMER: mentions of periods/mainly about gettin your period unexpectedly 'round Kidd, might be triggers f'some transmascs !! ヾ(@⌒︶⌒@)ノ
He genuinely doesn't care/didn't know that you're trans,,?
Tha first time he saw you with a binder on/saw your top surgery scars he didn't think much of it, genuinely thought they were battle scars.
It was only when he told Killer about them that his first mate told him in the most deadpanned and serious tone that they weren't battle scars.
n'he's so confused like ??? what are they then ???
After Killer explains what those scars mean he just,, doesn't care ?? All he came up with was that they're still battle scars, just not the same kind of battle.
His view of you doesn't change in the slightest, in his eyes you're still his boyfriend just with added customizations.
"Bath's fuckin hot," Eustass grumbled behind you, his metal arm wrapped around your waist as the scent of marshmallows wafted through the bathroom.
You relax into Eustass' boobs chest with a content sigh, letting all the tension in your body wash away with the bath. Through your daze, you hear Eustass grumble about how he forgot to bring his nail polish close so he could do his nails while resting.
With small movements of your finger, the bottle drops on your boyfriend's head, causing him to wince. "Fuck you." He mutters under his breath as he splashes some water in your direction, narrowly avoiding your face. "Love you too, captain."
You're sure Eustass rolls his eyes at that, mumbling something about how insufferable you were as he no doubt made a metal structure to help paint his nails as his other hand was occupied with holding his boyfriend.
Either you blacked out or took a small nap because before you knew what was happening, Eustass was shaking you awake with slight anger in his eyes, though you can easily make it it's all a facade because that's how he looks when you're hurt during missions. "Why didn't you tell me you were hurt? You're fuckin bleeding everywhere."
Not all the way there yet, you look around trying to find the spot you're bleeding from because you don't remember getting any injuries that could cause bleeding to worry Eustass. He's gotten and seen his fair share of wounds anyway.
That's when you notice the blood is coming from between your legs, staining your previously relaxing shower with red. Embarrassment floods your mind as you shift away from him so the blood doesn't get everywhere.
""[Name]? You alright? If it hurts that bad I could call Killer or somethin—"
"No!" You say instinctively as your mind wracks to figure out a way to sort this out. "I'm okay, can you just... leave me alone for a few minutes?"
Eustass stares at you as if you've got two heads. "While you're bleedin' out? Just tell me what's wrong, maybe I can help, yanno?"
Your lips stay shut as more wetness flows down your thigh. You've dated Eustass for a while now, it's just the first time you've openly had your period around him—which shouldn't have happened in the first place since it's two days early.
Kidd is a naturally perceptive person around you. He likes knowing what things to avoid and never bring up, and what things you could talk about for hours, so he's made sort of a guess as to what's happening, but he doesn't want to bring it up in case you were uncomfortable.
Either way, though, you looked as if you were going to explode even if he left, so he decided to take the gamble anyway. "Is it that thing where you're like,, shedding?"
You turn to stare at Eustass with a blank face. "...Shedding?"
"You know! Like the thing where like you're ready to get pregnant and shit— I don't fuckin know what it's called!" The man grumbles, trying his best to push aside his embarrassment to make sure you're okay. "Still, don't you gotta get cleaned up and shit? Not sure it's healthy to stay in a bath of your own blood."
"All the more reason you should leave, Eustass." You mumble under your breath, yelping slightly when he lifts you up and lets all the water drain out, turning on the shower to help you get clean. "Naw, think I'm good here. Wouldn't be a very good boyfriend if I left, would I?"
Realizing nothing you'd do or say was going to let him leave, you let him do whatever it was he needed to do that made him a 'good boyfriend'.
He took a shower with you, practically not letting you move a muscle until he was sure all the blood was off you. When you two were done, he tossed an extra big towel on your head before leaving to go get a few things from the kitchen.
You quickly got situated, putting on your clothes and other needed accessories before landing on Eustass' bed, hands over your tummy as pain surged from your lower half.
You hoped that sleep would get its grubby hands on you quickly so you wouldn't have to deal with it alone. As if it was mocking you, a harsher tingle worked its way up your body, eliciting a small whimper out of you.
A few minutes later, Eustass walks in with a cup of hot tea and other snacks. "Dunno what you wanted so I grabbed anythin'. You alright?"
You nod, even though you know you aren't; and by the look on your captain's face, he knows you're lying too. He doesn't pry though, only sets your body between his legs and your head on his chest, handing you the cup. "Careful, s'hot."
"Killer said I'm supposed to make sure you're well hydrated and shit, so you don't die."
You sip down the tea gingerly, stifling a giggle. "I'm not sure I'll die from cramps, Kidd."
"It's what he said! I don't know how this shit works." Eustass rolls his eyes and pulls you closer, using all the metal in his room to make a miniature version of himself and you for entertainment.
With a small content smile, you relax against your boyfriend, holding the arm he had on the lower half of your stomach. "I think whatever it is you're doing is working just fine, Kidd. Thank you."
His cheeks turn as red as his signature lipstick, rolling his eyes and trying to play it off. "Whatever, it's the least I could do for you. Even if you're annoying."
"Mhmm, I love you too Eustass."
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— MONKEY D. LUFFY.
Almost like Eustass, but 10x worse.
If you wear a binder and he sees it, he's like "why do you have two shirts on ????"
And if you have surgery scars, he thinks it's the best thing ever that you two have matching (not really) torso scars!
When he asks Chopper why you suddenly get sick every month, the doctor looks at him with wide eyes,, he doesn't know ???
Chopper, just tells him to ask Robin, who tells him with a kind face to ask someone else.
Ends up asking the entire crew as his frown slowly gets deeper because why is everyone keeping a secret about you—his husband (you two aren't engaged at all)— from him ?!?!?
Demands Sanji to tell him after running around the Sunny for the tenth time, and he's just like... "Ohhhhh! Wait, why was everyone hiding that from me?????"
He just realizes you're like Yamato but the only difference s'that you two are dating!
The place smelled like a hospital, your brain foggy as you try to feel your surroundings.
Your eyes slowly open as you try to sit up—a stinging pain from your chest sending electricity through your body. "Oh, you're awake! Has everything settled down yet?" A voice asks from a chair nearby, though all you can make out from the shape is a comically large blue hat and a pair of antlers, right beside another comically large hat with black spots dotted around it.
Groggily, your eyes trail down to look at yourself, trying to find the source of the pain flowing through your body. That's when you see the bandages around your chest with tubes underneath them.
The realization hits you like a brick. Your surgery, the days spent stressing as the date got closer, the surgery. "Chopper? Is it— did the surgery go okay?"
The reindeer smiles and it feels contagious. Law stands up with a huff, throwing a mask in the bin and using his devil fruit to replace himself with Luffy.
Luffy looks a bit disoriented for a bit, relaxing when he realizes where he is. Then, he locks eyes with you and you think he cracked the biggest smile you've ever seen on his face. "[Name]!"
Before he gets the chance to throw his body at you, Chopper switches to Human Point to punch him in the head, quickly reverting back to look at you with serious eyes. "Yes, the surgery went well, but there are some things you can't do for a while."
You nod your head feverishly, gripping the sheets as you try not to squeal from excitement.
Chopper explains how you should avoid doing any strenuous activity, like fighting and training. Making an extra point to tell you not to let Luffy drag you into dangerous situations. He says that you still have to do mild exercising, i.e moving around and maybe going on slight jogs but nothing too over the top like Zoro's training.
Finally, he gives you and Luffy time alone; excusing himself to go talk with Law about some doctor-thing you couldn't give two shits about.
When the door clicks shut, Luffy sits in front of you— his expression blank but his eyes focused on the bandages around your chest. "This means you don't have to do the binding thing anymore, right?"
You nod.
"And, you're happy about it?"
You nod again.
Luffy stares at it for a bit longer, raising up a finger to poke it slightly. A small wince forces its way out of your mouth. The wounds were still fresh after all, it hurt like a bitch. Luffy apologizes with a small peck as his usual happy-go-lucky expression forms on his face. "Wanna know what I just thought of?"
You can't help the grin that forms on your face, cocking your head playfully. "What did you think of, Luffy?"
"We have matching scars now! Shishishishi!" Luffy smiles even wider (if that's possible) and grabs your hands to hold it against his. You notice that he isn't as hyper as he is normally, and in the back of your mind, a fondness spreads through you when you realize it's because of Chopper's warnings.
"You're still so pretty, you know?" Luffy whispers, as he cautiously climbs on top of your body, stating himself so he stays clear of your chest, as much as he wants to lie down and rest his head there.
A warm flush spreads across your face as your fingers comb through Luffy's hair. He shifts up and presses a quick peck on your lips, giggling as he does it again but on your cheek. "My husband is soo handsome!"
"Lu.." You trail on, giggling as you rest your hands on top of his. "We aren't even married—"
"Yet!" He interrupts sharply. "We aren't married yet! And when we do, we'll have a big wedding and invite everyone! Oh, oh, and we'll have Sanji cook meat! With a meat cake, and meat wedding rings, and meat desserts, and meat—"
You interrupt him with a kiss, running your hand through the back of his head as your fingers slightly brush against the straws of his hat. You pull away with a dopey grin on your face and Luffy stares back at you with one equally as dorky. "Just promise you'll marry me soon, okay, Luffy?"
"Shishishi, of course, I will!"
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—PORTGAS D. ACE. | DISCLAIMER: mentions of period cramps and [NAME] thinking that period cramps doesn't make him a man anymore ! (>'-'<)
He's surprisingly quick to figure it out!
From the random getting "sick" moments every month, to the refusal to let him hug you from behind, he pieced everything together easily.
After all, he grew up around Izo and a very supporting crew!
The first person he asked about it was his pops. He didn't know if he was supposed ta tell you up front or let you tell him yourself!
Dunno what he thought was gunna happen, Whitebeard jus sent him off to Marco or fuckin Blackbeard. Whitebeard might be good at a buncha things, but anything romantic was not his strong suit.
After a bunch of nothing from Marco, and actual advice from Izo, he figured out how he'd do it.
Ace had his hat resting on his nape, yawning as he walked into the room he shared with his boyfriend. "Love? Are you in here?"
He notices the top of your head from under the covers but you're hunched up, curled into the sheets, and cuddling a pillow for dear life. Worrily, he climbs into the bed with you and holds your shoulder. "Love? Are you sick again?"
Meekly, you nod. Trying to keep your discomfort under wraps. Ace already had things to deal with trying to become 2nd Division Commander, he didn't need his boyfriend annoying him about cramps.
Not that Ace knew you were trans—or at least you hoped he didn't know. You don't even know if he would accept you. After all, men don't get period cramps.
You sniffle, trying to keep those thoughts out of your head, but you can't help it. What if Ace finds out and decides you're too disgusting to be near him? What if he doesn't think you're a real man? Would he be angry that you deceived him? That you made him live a lie for the past three years?
The thoughts don't feel like they're stopping now—it's already gone out of hand. What if he told Whitebeard and he decided to throw you overboard for making a lie out of his son?
Not that Whitebeard would ever call you that, you aren't even sure if you are a man.
"...Love, love can you look at me? You're hyperventilating right now, do I need to call Marco?"
You quickly shake your head, trying to stop the tears from flowing but everything feels like it's too much, or like you're overstimulated. The cramps hurt and your mind won't shut up about lying to Ace about three years, three years of hurt, love, and everything in between, wasted because you couldn't tell him something with your chest.
"I'm sorry— I'm sorry Ace!" You sob, instinctively curling into his warm chest and trying to stop being a crybaby. Ace has dealt with more serious things, having been the son of Gol D. Roger and struggling to find out if he deserves to live.
You being whiny over something that was entirely your fault wasn't something you wanted to bother him with, but it doesn't look like you have much of a choice. "What is it? C'mon love, deep breaths okay? Breathe with me, inhale..."
Your lungs expand as you take a deep breath in, following Ace's instructions. You try to focus on something else, the warmth of his body, how his hands are slightly dry from his devil fruit, the soft waves hitting the ship in a soft ambiance, anything to stop thinking of those unsavory thoughts.
When Ace notices you've calmed down, he places you in the middle of his legs, his hands resting on the lower half of your tummy as he rubs gently; the heat adds an extra layer of comfort, even if he wasn't aware of it. "Do you wanna talk about it, Love? We can just go to sleep and cuddle, if you want."
Ace is worried, obviously so. You rarely have breakdowns like that and a part of him thinks it's his fault. "I'm not a man..." He hears you coarsely whisper as your bloodshot eyes stare into the bedsheets.
"What do you mean, love?"
He watches you sniffle, trying to recollect yourself before you start speaking again. "I was, born a woman. And as much as I tell myself, real men don't get periods, they don't have breasts and they don't have—"
"But... you think of yourself as a man, do you not?" The man behind you asks softly as he spreads his fingers against your tummy.
A nod.
"Then that's what you are. No more of this 'real man' shit, if you say you're a man, then that's who you are. Izo's a man, and he had periods before... well, before doing whatever it was Marco did to him, but no one out and started calling him a girl anytime he did get them, right?"
You feel your chest start to tighten again, but you nod. Albeit shakily.
Ace intertwines one of your hands together, lifting you up so you're resting in his lap and pressing his cheek against yours. "Then why would I not love you, even if you were trans? I fell in love with you, because you're you. For fucks sake, you could be a cat and I'd still love you; but then I'd have to be a cat too so we could be cat boyfriends... Yeah, we'd definitely be boyfriends in every universe— imagine it!" He says excitedly as stars practically shine in his eyes.
"We could be um... birds, cats, dogs, the sun, and the moon! Ooo, we could be food too! Like salt and pepper, or—"
"You'd still... love me? No matter what I was?" You ask shyly, craning your neck so you could look him in the eyes.
He cocks his head. "Did you not just hear me say I'd love you even if you were a pepper shaker? Dummy, you've gotta get your hearing checked!" He presses a plethora of kisses on your cheek, only pulling away when you've been turned into a blushing and giggling mess.
"Yes, I'd love you no matter what you were. You'll be my boyfriend forever, you know? Never gettin' rid of me, love!"
You giggle, letting Ace continue his kiss attack on your face. "Like anyone could get rid of the infamous 'fire-fist Ace'."
He grins, one so bright it makes you remember why you fell in love with him in the first place. "Got that right! Now c'mon, let's cuddle and think about each other as cat boyfriends in our dreams, I've gotta fight Marco tomorrow to decide who's the better fire user!"
You shake your head. "Ace, love of my life, Marco is a phoenix, not a fire user."
"Ah, tomato, tomatoe, who cares!" He blows a raspberry, taking off his hat and placing it on the bedside table, not letting go of his hold on you once. He shifts the position so he's spooning you, his warm hand still on the spot your cramps hurt the most.
He presses a kiss to the back of your head. "Night, Love."
And before you can say goodnight back, Ace is already snoring asleep beside you.
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drdemonprince · 5 months
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Tiktok is an evil place where people go to make their social neuroses worse.
I was just on there and this Autistic guy I know with a really huge account is talking about how he modulates his voice and facial expressions to make himself seem more broadcast worthy and fun. Instead of allowing his natural monotone to come through he does jerky comedian voice with lots of forced emphasis. Instead of letting his face be flat he holds a ton of tension in the middle of his face and raises his eyebrows to the damn ceiling. He is masking just to be liked on the image-consciousness platform.
He has a million followers. He has PTSD. He was exploited by a US war machine that knowingly recruits Autistic soldiers. He got out. It fucked him up. He is about to close on a six figure book deal and will probably become a Beau Burnam type figure soon with at least that level of notoriety. He will be masking constantly. He will be a very lucrative product. It will not be good for him. It won't be sustainable. But I understand the temptation. You learn the system, you game it, it pays the bills. But this is not good for us. If he is like most of us he will have horrific burnout within a few years.
I scroll on. The next Tiktok is a cute normal schlubby trans guy, as perfect as god made him, performing the anxious adjustment of his posture so as to seem more masc. He is worried about the angle of his ankle and the tilt of his head to a degree of specificity that borders on the paranoid. In the comments dozens of trans people laugh and say they catch themselves not standing in a passable enough stance all the time, in exactly the same way.
What the fuck is wrong with these people. This is not a good place.
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softgreengrass · 1 year
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Covert Narcissism
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Wednesday Addams x reader
Summary: There's a new student at Nevermore, and she's certainly captured your attention.
Words: 3.8k
Warnings: swearing ig, otherwise none, implied f!reader
Author's Note: not angst!!! reader is a cocky little shit. there's a prank war. this was meant to be like half the length that it turned out oh well. thank u guys so much for all the support, i was so not expecting it! thank u thank u thank u thank u 💙💙💙
A new student at Nevermore. You had heard the rumors, seen Enid’s blog post about staying a safe distance away from her roommate, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the girl who walked into your world history class.
She looked utterly terrifying, in the way that made your head buzz and your stomach turn. She was also undeniably beautiful, with full lips and silky black hair, dead eyes dropped into a dangerous stare.
She sat down at an empty table in the center of the room — a safe choice, an attempt to blend in, a chance to observe.
Of course, you weren’t going to let her get away with that.
You got up from your seat in the back row and shuffled over, sliding into the chair right next to her.
Her side-eye was deadly as she pulled out a black notebook.
“Hey there,” you said, laying on the charm as thick as possible.
“Can I help you?” she replied, expressionless.
“Where are you from?” you leaned back, gazing at the curve of her cheekbone. “Wait, let me guess. Tennessee?”
Her eyes hardened. “If you finish that sentence, I’ll hang your intestines like a chandelier.”
She didn’t understand the twinkle in your eye, or why all you did was laugh. “Because you’re the only ten I see.”
She grabbed a pen from her bag, clicking it to reveal a glinting blade. “Would you like this to be driven through your eye socket?”
“Take me out first, would you?”
You bit back another laugh at the fury that flashed across her face. Then the history teacher cleared his throat, signifying the start of class.
His lecture droned on and on about the Trans-Saharan Trade Network, and you busied yourself with slowly inching closer to her. She noticed, you knew she did, but she also didn’t bother moving, so you took that as an invitation. But as soon as you reached over to her notebook, pencil not yet touching paper, her hand shot out to grab your wrist.
Her grip was ice-cold, tight enough to cut off circulation. You swallowed.
“Do not test me,” she muttered.
You lifted your palms in surrender, eyes wide. You hadn’t expected her to be so physical about it.
Reluctantly, she let you go, and you rubbed your wrist as you shifted back over to your side of the desk. You decided to try to focus on the lecture for the rest of class, but by the third mention of concubines, you were zoned out and staring at the clock.
You couldn’t really tell what she was doing. It looked like she was taking notes, sure, but her eyes were glazed over and she could’ve been writing “asshole” over and over for all you knew.
She was almost deathly pale, her breathing so shallow you weren’t sure she really was alive. Her braids were absolutely meticulous, not a strand out of place. Her uniform was black and gray. You remembered the argument you had had with Weems when you first arrived at Nevermore — you demanded that you be allowed to wear something other than that godawful uniform, and she refused to relent, until eventually you were stuck scrubbing the floors in detention, striped blue blazer on. Of course the new girl would get special privileges.
There was something striking about her sunken eyes, about her perfect posture, about the fact that she was a new student at Nevermore in the middle of the first quarter. You tried to take in every part of her that you could: black nail polish, reddish lips, defined jawline, firm glare.
“It’s very obvious that you’re staring,” she muttered, still writing down her magical spells or whatnot.
“Is that a problem?” you asked.
“Only if you value your life.”
“You are just a ball of sunshine, aren’t you?”
“You cannot take a hint, can you?” she snapped, turning to face you, eyes narrowing. “I’m not interested.”
“Everyone’s interested,” you smirked, glancing down at her lips and back up to dark eyes.
She ignored you for the rest of the period, properly ignored you, and you tried not to be too bothered by it. You watched, laughing with your friends, as she challenged Bianca to a bout during fencing. Wednesday Addams was going to learn how things worked at Nevermore.
It was quite simple, really. Nobody tried to best Bianca, and nobody ignored you. For most, it wasn’t a problem at all. You had girls fawning over you left and right, plus the occasional pig-headed boy who thought he’d be the exception. Even if someone didn’t want to sleep with you, they wanted to be your friend, and while there weren’t any popularity contests at Nevermore, you would’ve won them all.
But Wednesday Addams wouldn’t give you the time of day for a week after she arrived. So, you decided to play her game.
“Heard about those murders in the woods?” you asked, sidling up next to her as she walked briskly down the hallway.
Wednesday didn’t respond.
“What if I told you I’m the killer?”
Her head snapped to look at you, and you grinned triumphantly. “You’re not capable of that.”
“Ouch,” you clutched your heart, lengthening your strides to keep up with her quickening pace. “Come on, you don’t know that. I could be a killer.”
“But you aren’t,” she said impatiently. 
“Why don’t you like me?” you asked earnestly, watching carefully for any twitches or flutters that might betray a reaction.
She replied without missing a beat. “Because you’re insufferable.”
“Bullshit,” you laughed.
Turning on her heel, she took an abrupt left turn, and you were forced to continue to your next class. You spent it brainstorming ways to irritate her, since her reaction was bound to be interesting, and soon you had a plan.
The problem was, you only had one class with her, and it seemed like she actively avoided you in the hallways. You had never been close with Enid, certainly not close enough to get into her dorm, and you weren’t going to embarrass yourself by asking around.
So for a while, you kept to annoying her in world history, laughing at every dirty look and death threat she responded with. It wasn’t as if you didn’t have other people to occupy your time.
When you caught Thing digging into the moisturizer drawer in the infirmary, a golden opportunity presented itself before you. You snatched him, holding the writhing hand until he stopped squirming and listened to what you had to say. You told him he would either help you prank Wednesday, or he would spend the rest of the week firmly duct-taped to the ceiling of Weems’ office.
Was it a threat? Yes. But you needed an inside man if you were going to have any shot of holding your own in the war you were about to start.
Eventually he agreed, after trying everything possible to free himself from your grasp, including flicking lotion into your eyes. You nearly slammed him into the table for that.
By the end of the day, you had already arranged your first prank: Thing stole Wednesday’s book of sheet music, and you replaced each piece with “I Want It That Way” for cello. The next morning, you woke up to dozens of plastic cups full of blood on the floor of your dorm, packed so close together that you had no hope of avoiding knocking them over.
So, you were late to class with blood-stained shoes. And as the blood you couldn’t sop up dried, your floor warped, looking more like mahogany than white oak.
And it was on.
World history became a battleground: you pulled a few strategic screws from her chair so it would collapse the moment she sat down, she coated your side of the desk in superglue, you told the teacher she had volunteered to give a lecture about the dissolution of Yugoslavia, she set fire to your pants in the middle of class.
“Unoriginal,” she deadpanned, looking down at the dead snake dumped inside of her bookbag. “Did you kill it?”
You shook your head, realizing too late that you had just knocked yourself down a few points.
“Disappointing.”
Your plan had worked perfectly — Wednesday spoke to you now. Nearly all of it was insults, but she was still speaking to you. The pranks escalated, and Wednesday’s death threats became more and more detailed, until you finally decided it was time to gain the upper hand. She had always committed the more gruesome pranks, always been the aggressive one, but you wanted control now. You were going to get a reaction out of her that wasn’t just anger at your defiance.
Enid and Wednesday were long gone, off to investigate some old mansion. You let yourself into their dorm, holding the biggest basket you could find, and swung open the doors to Wednesday’s wardrobe.
Under the cover of night, no one saw you carrying heaps of clothes outside or hauling them into a bleach-filled barrel. No one saw the assortment of dyes you had prepared: various shades of pink, pastel yellow and green, periwinkle blue.
You laughed quietly to yourself as you hung her clothes back up, leaving them to dry in her wardrobe overnight. There was no way she would be able to top this — there wasn’t a single aspect of your character vulnerable to an attack of this magnitude. You would defeat her here.
Wednesday didn’t show up to any of her classes the next day, but the wide-eyed looks Enid gave you were all the confirmation you needed. Maybe she would go back to ignoring you, but at least you would have won. You kept your head held high, your smile wide as you went about your day.
You should’ve known she wouldn’t have let you win so easily.
In the middle of a restful night’s sleep, you were awoken by a loud hum. At first, through the fog of drowsiness, you thought the heater had finally kicked on.
Then you felt the first few brush against your hand, and your eyes shot open. In a flash, an entire horde of bees was on you, stinging every inch of exposed skin. You screamed, waving your arms, and bees flooded your mouth. You didn't realize that the perpetrator was still standing in the shadows of your room.
You jumped out of bed, vision entirely blocked by the swarm, stumbling around not unlike a headless chicken. You swiped at your arms and face, feeling stingers drag down your skin, feeling prick after prick and feeling tingly swelling.
“You didn’t really think you would get away with something like that, did you?” Wednesday said blankly, tilting her head as she watched you struggle.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you cried, shaking your limbs vigorously to get the thousands of tiny legs off of you.
“Do you surrender?” she smirked. You couldn’t see it, or you would have made a big deal out of it.
“Yes, Jesus Christ!” you exclaimed, scratching at your eyes and spitting out bees. “I surrender, you win, get them off!”
Wednesday picked up the smoker beside her and began spraying you. The bees slowly fell to the floor, asleep, and you stood shaking, red and swollen. You felt like an idiot and a half. What were you thinking, provoking the girl who got here for murdering someone?
“I accept your surrender,” she said, using a broom to scoop the bees into a drawstring bag.
“I would hope so,” you mumbled, looking at the bumps covering your arms, tensing your muscles to resist the urge to itch them. “How the hell do you have so many bees?”
“I’m a Hummer,” she said simply.
The nurse gave you a big tub of lotion and a few antihistamines, and you spent the next two days cooped up in your room, wishing death upon Wednesday Addams and her bees.
When you finally returned to your classes, Wednesday watched, amusement swimming somewhere deep in her eyes. The itchiness had somewhat subsided, but you still had to wear long sleeves and deflect countless questions about what happened to your face.
“Not so cocky now, are we?” Wednesday asked you in world history, nearly smiling at the way your face twisted in anger. 
“There’s a line between a practical joke and assault,” you bit.
“I don’t believe there is.”
You couldn’t argue with that. So you sat fuming for the rest of class and the days that followed. After a week, there were no remaining physical signs of what she had done, but your psyche would be scarred forever. And of course, it was then that Weems called you into her office for a favor.
“Why would I do that?” you asked, scrunching up your face.
“To put it simply,” she sighed, leaning forward over her desk. “The Sheriff needs Wednesday to be here at school on the night of the Rave’N.”
“Why do I have to take her?”
“Oh, please,” she smiled slyly. “Just ask her, alright? I’ll owe you.”
You raised your eyebrows, weighing your options. Get Wednesday to go to a dance with you, or be on Weems’ bad side again. You didn’t know when you had gotten off of it, but you certainly weren’t in a hurry to return. Besides, the least Wednesday could do after nearly murdering you was go to a dance with you.
“Fine.”
“I’m not going to the dance,” was Wednesday’s response, quick as a whip.
You weren’t the least bit surprised. “But I asked you nicely.”
“I am not participating in another pointless childish tradition.”
“But I’m asking you to go with me. To be my date,” you pouted, watching as she scowled at you.
“Perhaps you need to have your memory checked. I’ve already told you I’m not interested.”
“Don’t you owe me something? After, you know, traumatizing me for life?”
“Weak,” she muttered under her breath. “No, I don’t believe I do. You don’t owe me something for ruining my entire wardrobe, do you?”
“Actually,” you said quickly. “That was pretty harsh. What would you like me to do?”
“Not take me to the dance.”
You shook your head, smiling. “That’s not how favors work, I’m afraid. Come on, name anything. I’ll do it.”
You couldn’t believe you were doing this for Weems. 
She eyed you suspiciously. “If I go to the Rave’N with you, you’ll do anything I want?”
You resisted the urge to clarify, nodding your head.
“Fine. Pick me up at eight.”
She pushed you out of her dorm, slamming the door in your face. You stood there, bewildered, until you realized you needed to get ready. You had managed to get her to go to a school dance — that was something, right? 
A few hours later, your knuckles rapped against the door twice, and you took a step back. You repeated some assurances to yourself, looking down at your feet until the door opened.
The sight of her took your breath away for a moment.
Wednesday was as beautiful as she had been when you first saw her, her hair pinned back, her lips plump and dark. Her dress was black and elegant, and your heart seized as she met your eyes.
“You look ravishing, darling,” you said, grinning widely as her nostrils flared.
She wanted to throttle you as you stepped inside and said hello to Enid.
“Now, where were we?” you spun to face Wednesday. “I believe you were telling me to rip off my arm and shove it up my ass, correct?”
“Always so crude,” Wednesday muttered, digging through a black backpack. “I told you to burn eternally under the hand of a cruel god.”
“Oh, my bad.”
Enid took a hesitant step forward. “Are you guys going to the dance?”
You shot her a strange look. “Yes.”
Enid stifled a sound of surprise, watching as Wednesday pulled a tube of lipstick from her bag and applied a layer. “Oh. Well, have fun! See you down there!” She slipped between you and shut the door on her way out, leaving you in one of the most awkward situations you had ever had the pleasure of experiencing.
Wednesday looked utterly exasperated as she looked at you. “Well?”
“I, um,” you swallowed. “Are you ready?”
She blinked. “Yes.”
“Okay,” you cleared your throat. “Shall we?”
Wednesday’s arm was in yours as you walked down the stairs, some electro-pop song growing louder and louder with each step you took. You were quite pleased with yourself: you were going to walk in with Wednesday Addams on your arm. Not a big deal.
She stared steadily through her eyebrows as you approached the iced-out hall, ignoring Thornhill and Weems as they greeted you. It didn't take long to find Enid.
To your surprise, Wednesday didn't seem to despise the decor, though she certainly despised most of the attendees. Xavier and Lucas were both subjected to death-glares of the highest caliber.
After you both had a few Yeti-tinis in you, you dragged Wednesday to the dance floor. And then, something unbelievable happened. It was probably rarer than a total solar eclipse, and you didn't think many who had witnessed it had survived.
Wednesday Addams began to dance.
She stared at you unrelentingly as she moved, looking somewhere between a bird doing a mating dance and a teenager possessed with the spirit. You could do nothing but watch, hypnotized, as she danced around you.
You had never seen anyone move so freely. It really was spellbinding, and you could feel the entire dance floor watching her. But she was staring at you.
And then the song was over, and you were left standing and looking at each other again. There was something magical in the air.
Everyone else was lost in the music, already dancing again without a care in the world, and the floor vibrated with the bass, and she looked absolutely ethereal in the blueish light. You didn't know anything, except that you couldn't stop smiling. If you didn't know better, you would've thought she might kiss you.
Something dripped onto your shoulder, and then your head, and then it was raining down. Blood.
In moments, pure chaos broke loose. Screams overpowered the music, the floor turning into a grisly slip-n-slide as people rushed away from the shower.
There was a smile on her face, a smile, a smile on Wednesday Addams’ face. Everyone else was sprinting for the nearest exit, and she was smiling, and you were staring at her.
“Did you do this?” she asked.
You rubbed the back of your neck, face burning with the shame about to come. “No.”
Her face fell, but she would deny it if you ever told anyone. You didn’t plan to. “Oh.” She licked her lip. "They couldn't even spring for real pigs' blood, anyway. It's only paint."
The enchantment drained from the air along with her excitement, and you no longer wanted to be coated in red paint, so you parted ways with her and retreated to your dorm.
The next day, you found yourself in the quad with Wednesday and Enid, assigned to confetti clean-up.
“Aren’t you tired?” you asked.
Wednesday looked at you. “Why would I be tired?”
“You’ve been running through my mind all day,” you grinned, watching the familiar flare of irritation appear in her eyes.
“I’ll hide your body parts all over the country.”
“I’ll sweep you off your feet,” you winked.
“I’ll skin you alive.”
Enid laughed nervously, glancing between the two of you. “Um, no killing, right?”
“She won’t kill me,” you said smugly, leaning back.
Wednesday gritted her teeth, wanting more than ever to slit your throat. “Oh, but how I hate you.”
She stood up, muttering something about needing to write her novel, and stalked away. You smiled to yourself, already reminiscing on the annoyance written all over her face. You started thinking of other cheesy pickup lines — maybe you’d have to watch some rom-coms for inspiration.
Enid said your name, staring at you incredulously. You snapped to attention. “Oh my god, don’t you see it? Wednesday likes you!”
What? You shake your head, laughing slightly. “No, no, she hates me.”
Enid jumped up and down, squealing. “She likes you!”
“No, she doesn’t.”
Grasping your hands in hers, she beamed at you. “Oh wow, this is such a big day. I mean, I didn’t even know if, wow, I didn’t think this was possible! Ooh, this is so exciting!”
“Enid!” you said sharply, glaring at her until she stopped hopping.
“She doesn’t like me, we’re not even really friends. We just prank each other.”
“Did you not see the way she blushed?” she furrowed her eyebrows.
You thought back. Wednesday had glowered at you, jaw clenched. Her skin was as pale as ever. “No?”
“You’re blind,” Enid giggled. “She was like, bright red for her. She so likes you.”
You shook your head again, mind racing. Could it be? You played back every moment you could remember: each prank, each mean-spirited remark, each heated argument. She had never been anything but stone-faced, her tone never anything more than irritated. Why would she like you?
You could’ve laughed �� if it were anyone else, you’d never even dream of asking that question. But it was Wednesday. You had accepted that she’d never want anything from you. You had accepted that.
What if she did like you? Did you like her? Well, she was beautiful, obviously. She had exactly your sense of humor. But you had never really liked someone like that. Enough to flirt, to touch, to go a little farther. But in a truly romantic sense? A genuine sense?
Shit. You liked Wednesday.
You rushed out of the quad, ignoring Enid’s excited questions, and stumbled over your feet as you made your way to Wednesday’s dorm. On the way, you tried to figure out the best way to ask her without activating her fight or flight, without getting punched in the nose for being too forward.
You caught your breath for a few seconds before knocking.
“What do you want?” she asked, glare colder than usual.
You smiled sheepishly, remembering how it felt to be swarmed by hungry bees. “I come in peace, I swear.”
“What do you want?” she repeated.
“Can I come in?”
She rolled her eyes, stepping aside with a huff and letting you enter. You glanced at the pile of new black clothes on her bed and turned to face her as she closed the door.
Suddenly, everything you had planned flew right out of your head. “Um, Enid said, Enid said that you like me?”
Wednesday’s eyes widened, her heart thundering in her chest. Of all the things she expected you to say, that was at the absolute bottom of the list.
“I, I don’t know if that’s true,” you said, pretending like your voice wasn’t shaking. You weren’t sure where all of your usual confidence was. “But, I think I like you too.”
Somehow, this was the most terrifying thing you’d ever experienced. Your hands were shaky, your heart beating so fast it could’ve been vibrating, your mouth dry.
Wednesday took a small, hesitant step towards you, her head tilted up. And, after you forgot how to breathe, her lips met yours. They were soft, and warmer than you expected, and gentle as they moved against yours. Your hands found their way to her face, hers gripped your waist. The moment could’ve lasted minutes or hours; it was all the same. It was only you and her.
“Shit,” you breathed as you pulled away, looking at her with blown pupils. Slowly, you grinned. “I knew you were interested.”
“I’m not above burying you alive, you know,” she said, not a hint of emotion in her voice, before pulling you back in for another kiss.
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anystalker707 · 8 months
Text
Intoxicated
Pairing: [trans, ftm] Roronoa Zoro x [gender-neutral, amab] Reader Kinktober prompt: Gagged / Submission Tags: pussy drunk reader / reader gets turned on after seeing him go wild
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          “Goddammit,” you whispered, wiping the sweat away from your forehead with the back of your hand. There was blood when you pulled your hand back, just a small stain.
The unexpected clash in the middle of the sea demanded a little more strength from you than if you’d been prepared, but it still wasn’t anything too serious—just a jump scare, which you had to catch your breath from. You stood on the deck as you watched the ship slowly fade away in the distance, smoke rising from it because of Usopp’s cannonballs. One of the last enemy guys was drifting away on a broken piece of his own ship after being thrown out by Zoro. Great job, once again.
A breath escaped your lips as you looked around, checking if everyone was alright as well. Sanji, Usopp, Zoro, Luffy… Damn, Zoro. He still had that feral look, looking into the distance with his good eye, also struggling to catch his breath while his chest heaven up and down. He had some blood that trailed down his face and stained the part of his torso that was exposed by the open kimono, bathing his scars. On his arms, too, as he still held a sword in each hand. Just the sight made your throat feel dry as something stirred in your lower stomach.
Zoro’s eyes suddenly met yours, making all your blood drain to your feet as you immediately looked away and slowly exhaled, hearing your heartbeat in your head. What was that? The feeling was similar to what you felt watching him fight for the first time after reuniting, when you caught a glance of him on Fishman Island, but it had a slightly different tone this time.
Your eyes were on Zoro’s back as he walked away and sheathed his swords again, with that grumpy look on his face. It seemed the same as always, but something about him practically made you go crazy right now.
“Everyone okay?” Chopper’s voice cut through your thoughts. “Zoro! That’s a whole lot of blood!”
Zoro clicked his tongue, and something was dazing about how he adjusted his posture and sighed sharply. “Well, it’s not my blood.”
“There’s still a cut in your chest, whether you like it or not!” Chopper pointed at Zoro accusingly, making him sigh while they walked to the sick bay.
Right. You observed the two for a while, and then you moved to take a look at your wounds, but there wasn’t a lot more than just a small cut across your temples. It was manageable with a few dabs of alcohol in saline solution as you stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom before placing a small bandage over it. As you left, you ended up passing by the sick bay on your way to the deck. There was no specific reason for it, of course. You certainly didn’t take unnecessary turns.
You stopped by the slightly open door, taking a look inside to see Zoro sitting on the bed, cleaning the blood away from his swords’ sheaths. The top part of his kimono was down, and he had bandages taped to an area a little below his collarbone, now cleaned away from most of the blood. Some of it still stuck to his hair and near his chest, but that’d just be cleaned during a proper shower.
A knock made your presence known, and he looked up at you. It was such a gaze, making you bite the inside of your cheek and take a deep breath to just then start talking, standing in front of him.
“Are you alright?” You looked Zoro up and down, totally not checking out his muscles in the process.
A sigh escaped Zoro’s nose, and he pressed his lips together for a moment. “Not you too… Of course, I am okay. You guys are overreacting.”
“Just checking!” You furrowed your eyebrows. Did you annoy him? Things couldn’t be left that way. Putting a finger under his chin, you raised his head a little so that he would look at you—he was still moody, of course, twisting his mouth as he stiffened. His cheeks gained a red tone, as well. He was shy, and you’d already learned that before. “It’s not overreacting. We care about you.”
Your thumb traced a tiny cut down the side of his jaw as you sighed. And then, how were you supposed to control yourself? His lips were so close. Your thumb grazed Zoro’s lips, barely touching them. His eye was wide, trained on you, breath catching in his throat as he sat there. What were you even doing?
You were about to pull your hand away when Zoro’s lips parted a little under your thumb, his breath hot against it. Zoro didn’t do anything about it, but neither did you. Time seemed to drag itself for an eternity as you two looked at each other. The look you received reminded you of the look from earlier, which made something stir in your gutter, making you feel the same thing right now.
Zoro’s eye was still fixed on you when his tongue poked out, licking across the pad of your thumb, warm and wet. Fuck. You didn’t even think once before you leaned in and pressed your lips to Zoro’s, holding his jaw now—he hummed in surprise, leaning back a little, but he still kissed you back. His hand was on the back of your head as he parted his lips open in an inviting manner, pressing his tongue hot against yours to let them glide together. Despite it all, the kiss was slow, with a sensual tone that only he could control.
The way Zoro tugged on your collar made you lose your balance, almost falling on top of him if it weren’t for the way you placed a hand on the mattress first. You also needed to put a knee on the edge of the bed, trembling a little. His lips found yours again despite it, giving you long pecks on each of your lips until you started kissing him again. Zoro’s legs were spread open, and he leaned back on his elbow.
All of that had you intoxicated. Zoro was the only thing in your head and senses, but you still couldn’t get enough of him. Your cock throbbed painfully in your pants, pressed the wrong way against the zipper, but maybe you liked it. Maybe you were too afraid to ruin the situation by the smallest act. Your hand went from his jaw to his neck as you leaned in more, about to climb on the bed, when his hand pressed to your chest.
Did you fuck up? God, you really couldn’t have anyth—
“The door,” Zoro whispered as he tilted his head off to the door’s direction.
Oh, yeah, it was still open. You nodded in response, letting your tongue run between your lips for what remained of his taste there as you gently closed the door, guaranteeing it was locked.
Zoro’s swords were on the chair when you turned back, and he was untying his kimono and removing his boots, so you also removed your shoes while making your way over to him. As you approached, he moved back further on the bed, spreading his legs again to let you between them after tossing his kimono aside.
This kiss was a much better one, in an angle that didn’t hurt your neck. It drew a soft groan from Zoro as you tugged on his lip with your teeth until he pulled you closer by a hand on the back of your neck and pushed his tongue into your mouth again. The kiss was longer, and Zoro’s hand kept you there even when your lungs started screaming for air. His tongue pressed down to yours, momentarily tangling with it before he finally pulled away. Was he even aware of the effect he had on you?
“Come on,” Zoro breathed, tugging a little on your shirt, so you pulled away to take it off as well. His hands pressed to your torso immediately, running up and down your skin, feeling each detail. Sometimes, he would squeeze you, quickly gaining a liking towards your chest. He bit his lip, watching his own hands press down to the skin.
Blinking a couple of times, you finally came back to reality. You were truly intoxicated by him. How could you not, though? You bent down to mouth Zoro’s neck and started nibbling on it, feeling the vibration on his throat whenever he moaned, something that became more occasional once you started sucking on a specific spot. Just the thought of marking him made your cock twitch more, and thankfully, the arousal wasn’t only felt by you.
Zoro’s legs wrapped around your hips, and his arms did the same around your shoulders so that he could have you closer—close enough to grind his hips against yours, compelling both of you to moan. Fuck. You gasped against his neck, continuing to kiss and nip on it whilst grinding against him in return. Even through the cloth, the friction sent sparkles up your spine. Your cock managed to line up perfectly with his pussy through the fabric; it was even better.
“Mmph, fuck…” You managed to get away from his grasp so that you could sit back on the bed with Zoro’s bottom on your lap; otherwise, you’d be cumming in your pants without even having the opportunity to do anything. If not that, you’d cum too soon, so a break would be good.
On the other hand, Zoro didn’t seem very pleased. Things changed quickly. Shivers made Zoro’s skin rise as you ran your hands up and down his torso, feeling his chest, and abs, and teasing the waistband of his pants a little—he groaned, arching his back to seek your touches. His knuckles went white around the bedsheets.
Zoro’s skin wasn’t that smooth, but it was quite nice. Your fingertips traced the scar that crossed his torso, and then the scars under his pecs, before your hands trailed down. He was so beautiful. Your heart ached slightly as you looked at him a last time and leaned in to kiss from his sternum to his abs, at the same time your hands followed along his v-lines. He seemed a little sensitive around his hips, gasping and squirming. How could you not tease him there upon learning this? Your thumbs pressed to the skin, rubbing circles into it as Zoro pushed his hips up.
“You’re taking so long that they’ll notice we’re gone and the sick bay is locked,” Zoro said breathlessly, glaring.
“Oh?” You chuckled, unbuttoning his pants. “It’d be easier for them to hear you and find out. You’re so fucking loud.”
Zoro’s face burned hot as you said that. He had a feeling that maybe commenting about it would make you take longer, so he just shut his mouth and turned his face to the side as he waited for you to undress and then allowed you to remove his pants and boxers.
As you parted Zoro’s legs open to place his thighs over yours again, you couldn’t help a groan. Your cock twitched just at the sight, leaking more. Zoro was soaking wet, pussy shiny and fluttering with need as you gazed down at him. Despite the pubic hair, you could have a good look at it. His clit was swollen, practically waiting for you to touch it. Your breath hitched in your throat as you pressed your thumb to his slit, collecting some of his juices so that you could spread it all over his clit while rubbing it.
The moan that escaped Zoro’s lips was loud. He arched his back, squirming just at the simple touch. You weren’t even putting a lot of pressure on it, but you could only wonder the last time he’d been touched like that by someone else. Your finger pressed to his entrance when his hand wrapped around your wrist tightly.
“N—No!” He breathed, slowly pulling your hand away. “‘S a lot.” He bit his lip, propping up in an elbow and using his free hand to pull you closer by your shoulder. “Please,” he mumbled, messily kissing you again, and that intoxicated sensation came back.
Zoro slowly lay back on the bed properly and held around your shoulders again as your hand hooked under one of his knees to bring his leg up, the other one holding the back of your cock to guide it in. The small making-out session was inconsistent, full of pauses whenever your focus slipped away, so it started growing more sporadic once your cock pressed to Zoro’s pussy. You moaned at the warm, wet sensation, but it didn’t even compare to how it was once you started to push in.
Zoro was tight around you, practically pulling you in, walls clenching and accommodating around your cock. You’d just let yourself drown in the feeling if it weren’t for the loud whine coming from Zoro—it sent your hand flying to his mouth to at least muffle it until you bottomed out.
“Shut the fuck up!” You glared at him.
“Well, I can’t!” He whisper-yelled back, also in the same tone—you sighed sharply, looking down at the clothes on the ground. His bandana. It was a little difficult to reach for it, though you managed to without getting off your position.
“Open wide!” You grinned, unfolding his bandana and stretching it.
Zoro’s eyes widened. “No!”
“Yes!” You cut in, pulling the bandana away before he could reach for it. “You’re so fucking loud! Either this or getting caught!” You held his gaze as Zoro glared at you, sighing as he looked away—of course, he wouldn’t admit it so openly. “Tap my shoulder three times in a row or just remove the bandana if you need me to stop,” you said as you stuffed the bandana into his mouth, gagging him. It made your cock twitch inside him. Fuck.
“Okay,” you whispered, holding yourself up by an elbow and holding one of his thighs up again—he automatically wrapped his free leg around your torso, returning his arms to around your shoulders.
Zoro’s grip tightened as you started moving experimentally, hissing a little at how fucking good it felt. The movements were stuttering and unsteady until you finally could settle down to a nice pace. Of course, he kept moaning, but the gag prevented Zoro from being as loud as earlier, and it was also so fucking hot to see him like that. Aside from the moans, there was the occasional squelching sound. You still couldn’t believe you’d made him so wet.
You were absolutely drunk by the feeling, resting your head against his shoulder as you hoped not to get overwhelmed so quickly.
Zoro clenched down around you so tightly, gummy walls clamped around your cock, so warm and wet, letting you slide in and out so easily. Not to mention how you had such a strong, tough swordsman all whiny just because you were fucking his pussy so good. The same Zoro who had you and everyone else intimidated, sometimes just by his presence, and even more so whenever he started grinning during a fight or pulled out the third sword. It had your brain shortcutting, thoughts fuzzy as you started thrusting into him more intensely.
As he tightened around you, Zoro arched his back and let out a longer moan at the same time his fingers sank into your back. He had short nails, but they still managed to sink into the skin, leaving behind a burning feeling that actually added up to the arousal instead of being uncomfortable as it usually would.
Whatever you hit inside Zoro, it made him clench down for longer, a little whinier as he held you tightly. His thighs even quivered. Great. It took you a couple of thrusts to find that same angle again, just so you could try to keep it as often as possible. Zoro was practically milking you. Your fingers sank into his thigh, holding him tighter to make a firmer frame to fuck into, allowing your thrusts to go faster until you just came inside him.
Your orgasm hit you stronger than you’d expected, approaching a lot faster—the sparkles ran up your thighs and made your balls tighten as you came inside him, feeling your mind go blank, vision blacking out a little. You struggled to keep your own volume in check. Whimpers permeated your breathing whenever it didn’t hitch as you rode out your high. Hell, your thoughts were all over the place, you were all over the place. Nonetheless, you tried to recollect yourself enough.
Zoro’s eye was half-lidded, and some drool ran down the corners of his mouth. Fucking hot. It was nice knowing you weren’t the only one without a functioning brain at the moment. He looked at you when you removed the gag, though, gasping as your lips replaced it. His moans went into your mouth instead as your hand let go of his thigh so that you could slip it between both of you.
The kiss deepened as Zoro pulled you closer, struggling to keep up with it given the amount of moans that spilled from his lips once your thumb started rubbing circles on his clit. He arched his back, trying to push into your touch, but you already gave him all the attention you could, messily rubbing it until he was finally coming. A louder, longer moan came from him this time, and you were there to muffle it, though also moaning at how tight Zoro became, only loosening once his high started passing, so he was throbbing around you instead.
Zoro exhaled shakily as he started coming back to reality. You slowly stopped touching him, though you didn’t pull away yet—you just had to take a look at how his pussy looked right now. It was wet, with a mix of both your cum and his trailing out, which also covered your cock. Hot. You bit your lip, slowly pulling out, watching the last strings of cum breaking as you two lost contact.
“This again,” Zoro breathed, catching your attention, “crow’s nest, tonight.”
.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.
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aroacesigma · 6 months
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why he always got that trans guy posture
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