#and it's made me so much more comfortable in my own relationship with hormones and my body and how my identity plays into it

[uncanny-tranny]

On the topic of hormones, I love trans men, transmasculine people, abinary, multigender people, or whomever else who takes estrogen and trans women, transfeminine, abinary, multigender people, or whomever else who takes testosterone.

There is no "right" way to transition. You don't have to be a perfectly binary, gender conforming trans person in order to take hormones. We all have different levels of estrogen and testosterone, and that means women and nonbinary people don't have to have estrogen-dominant systems and men and nonbinary people don't have to have testosterone-dominant systems. Do what sparks joy and if it's shit, hit the bricks!

[public-trans-it]

i was a trans man until after a lot of build up of doubting myself, i finally realized that we are putting ourselves further into boxes by not accepting that we are the biological sex that we are and we can do WHATEVER we want at the same time.

clothes and makeup and certain interests do not equal gender.

and not liking being a woman is an unfortunately natural symptom of puberty and/or experiencing society’s deeply ingrained misogyny. and everyone deserves support for those problems.

but we can all fight together against gender social constructs in a healthy way without prescribing people hormones and invasive cosmetic surgery to make them more like the sex they “should” be according to… social constructs…. and help them be comfortable in who they are

Alright. Its been like 9 fucking months that I have been staring down this ask. What better time than to give TERFs some nuance than right in the middle of a fucking hate campaign going on where people (well... singular person probably) are calling me a TERF. This wont backfire.

This post arrived in my inbox shortly after I made another post about gender, and just how fucking weird it can be, and how I genuinely believed every single person on this planet has a fascinating relationship with gender, and so much nuance and personal identity in theirs. Even cis people. Even TERFs. In the tags, I even begrudgingly encouraged TERFs to talk about their gender on that post if they wanted. I genuinely think that TERFs do have really cool relationships with gender. As I mentioned in those tags, the quickest way to explode a group of TERFs is to get them to start talking about their own relationships with gender, and see how vastly different it is, and watching them stab each other in the back over it. So I told them to ramble away about how they view gender, as long as they stayed the fuck away from the rest of the blog WHICH THIS ANON CLEARLY FUCKING IGNORED.

But... this anon does bring up another topic I want to talk about.

Detransition.

Read More

I am a huge supporter of detransitioning. This is... surprisingly... not a very common stance in the trans community, and it breaks my fucking heart. Like, I get it. I understand why. A LOT of detransitioners, like the person in this ask, end up weaponizing their feelings of gender against other trans people.

My support of transition comes from the intersection of two very central beliefs of mine:

Everyone should explore their gender without feeling a need to commit! This is a pretty common belief in the trans community! Damn near universal in fact! We even have a fun little term we use for people who decide to play around with gender, only to end up a bit closer to where they started and being perfectly happy with that: Cis+. Someone who is cis, but at least put in the work to understand the trans experience, and actually CHOOSE to remain Cis instead of just defaulting to it with societal pressure. Many trans people are much more comfortable around 'Cis+' people, because they know these are people who have taken the time and put in the work of being an ally. Self examination isn't easy, especially not publicly, and doing so is genuinely one of the strongest ways a Cis person could ever show their support.

It is never too late to transition. This is also a pretty common belief in the trans community! It is... sadly not quite as universal though. But it is something very important that needs to be said. You could be 80 years old, sitting in a retirement home, and go "You know what? I think I'd rather wear a dress and be treated like a lady. I don't want to be buried as a man." And I think every single trans person should have that freedom!

I was discussing this with @thydungeongal the other day, far more paraphrased than this post, and she said something incredible that has been knocking around in my head ever since.

"Gender is an ongoing process"

Those five words they said to me sum up my feelings far more than this entire post could. Gender IS an ongoing process. My gender has changed SO MUCH over the past three decades. From the straightjacket of assigned gender that I was once forced into; to the very stylish and still lovable finely tailored suit of femininity that grew a little too stuffy to wear constantly, even though I do still enjoy it and try it on from time to time; to the wonderful and freeing losely fitting clothing of being aegogender, finally feeling free to be myself and just act naturally and feel natural without having to keep up an appearance!

And I think, there is no length of time you can try out being trans, and trying out new genders, before eventually coming to the realization you were cis all along. Even if you started HRT. Even if you got SRS. Heck, I don't even think you should have to call yourself trans to do either of those things in the first place, why would I be upset that someone did them and then realized they weren't trans? No single moment in your life should EVER lock your gender in place into some unchanging, set in stone thing.

So I support detransitioners completely, with my entire heart. They deserve just as much support as every other 'Cis+' person out there.

So anon, while many people may hate you and lash out at you for detransitioning, I want you to know, that I am not one of them. It sounds like your detransition might have been forced by peer pressure, which is heart breaking to hear. No one should ever force their own gender expectations on another. I hope that wasn't the case. I hope you came to the decision yourself, after realizing whats right for you. I will never give you hate for your detransition.

I WILL ABSOLUTELY GIVE YOU HATE FOR BEING A FUCKING TERF THOUGH. YOUR OWN EXPERIENCE WITH GENDER DOES NOT GIVE YOU THE RIGHT TO POLICE THE GENDER OF OTHERS, FUCK OFF. GET THE FUCK OFF MY BLOG, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!

[firsttimewriter92]

Neighborly shenanigans Pt. 3

Simon "Ghost" Riley x f! reader (Neighbor AU)

Part 1; Part 2; Part 4

Description: Your first date with Simon draws near and it turns out to be absolutely magical

Warnings: cursing, some dirty thoughts, fluff, pining and longing getting stronger, reader is not vegetarian; mentions of previous mental abuse by an ex; Please be careful when reading

Word count: 4.368

A/N: Hi everyone <3 Part three is here. Please read this one with a bit of caution.

I´m discussing something that has happened in my last relationship and it might be a bit difficult to read. It´s how I cope. I did something like this in another fic of mine and I realised how much it helped me and apparently others. So I incorporated another experience in this fic, hoping that the toothrotting fluff will make up for it.

Please enjoy none the less <3

It was Friday and your heart was already pumping so many different hormones and feelings through your system that you actually began to doubt your sanity.

You hadn’t seen Simon since he hung up your shelf and introduced you to his dog. The dog. God, the moment you thought he had a girlfriend and had seen how he behaved around you had made you so angry for a second. Thankfully however it was all just a misunderstanding and Simon had given exactly what you had needed at that moment.

Total and complete clarity.

He seemed like the type of man that was not socially awkward per se but definitely a bit of an isolated character. You couldn’t see him at lavish social gatherings or busy events. I think the mask would be too much of a conversation starter for it to not get awkward eventually. If he wanted to wear it, whatever his reason was, you were in no position to question him. You didn’t lie when you told him that it didn’t make you uncomfortable. You were just curious, and if he didn’t want to tell you why he wore it, then that´s what it was going to be. 

Secretly though, your mind was itching with the numerous faces you´d conjured up in the middle of the night. You found yourself awake wondering how his nose was shaped, how plump or not his lips were, if he had stubble, a beard or was he clean shaven? It didn’t matter to you as much as you thought. You´ve had crushes on men before that had shown even less than hair and eyes. Given they were fictional, the cush itself was real.

And so was the one you´d developed on the brown eyed, whisky voiced half stranger living next to you.

When you got out of bed Saturday morning, you dreaded the whole day ahead of you. He´d only pick you up at 8 so you had to occupy yourself for, what? Another ten hours?

“Fuuuuuuuuck” you sighed as you made your daily dose of coffee and got some eggs and toast ready.

Taking it all to your living room you plopped down on your couch and started your TV. Narcos was silently playing in the background as you made some mental notes about what you needed to do before Simon picked you up.

Shower, shave (maybe even exfoliate), pick out a casual outfit, clean up your apartment at least somewhat. Enough time was spent living out of cardboard boxes and not really settling. Being comfortable in your home would surely help making you more comfortable with yourself and therefore comfortable with the thought of an absolute hunk like Simon being interested in you.

It wasn’t that you thought you were ugly or unlovable, no. Not at all. But the men than had shown interest in you before were never like Simon. And that didn’t mean just physically.

Your last relationship opened your eyes to the men that you usually attracted. Insecure boys, hiding behind a strong masculine façade and instead of working on themselves, or realizing what they lacked, always bound someone to them that wasn’t yet aware of their own worth.

Unfortunately, you used to be that kind of person. Your ex was one of the most interesting men you´d ever met. When he started to take an interest in you, you were ecstatic and soon after you began dating. Over the years however, he slowly chipped away at your confidence, misused your people pleasing tendencies and slowly…oh so slowly made you emotionally dependent on him.

So much so, that there was a time where you actually thought there was no other man for you on this planet other than him. That his actions and words were only for your benefit even if you felt deep down that something wasn’t right about the way he was treating you.

You couldn’t exactly pinpoint what it was, however. So, every time you tried to have a talk with him about how his behavior made you feel, he only needed about 5 minutes of constant talking to make you believe he was actually a great partner and that the problem was either nonexistent, only in your head or your fault.

This led to the fact that trying to argument in your favor was something you´d completely lost.

By the time he almost convinced you that you couldn’t do anything right or at least without him, that you weren’t very much intelligent but super sweet, so it was worth staying with you, you had already forgiven him for cheating on you once.

The second time however was your breaking point. The fact that the girl was underage opened your eyes about him so quickly, that you basically ran for the hills. Behavioral therapy and some new complexes were the result of all that. It did work though. Two years later your life was yours again to take and you grabbed it tightly.

Still, some of the things that had happened changed the way you saw yourself.

Simon was different. He seemed confident in a way that didn’t need to put others down for it. He was friendly, mild and cheeky. And you were going on a date with him. You probably would have never asked him so his direct confession that he was indeed trying to flirt and him asking you out first, made your confidence spike like nothing had done in the past two years.

You tried not to let it go to your head. Never again would you define your worth over the attention of an attractive man. But that feeling never once arose when you thought about Simon. Only excitement and juvenile glee. You marveled in it as you practically danced around your apartment, cleaning, putting stuff away, getting a load of laundry going.

Around three o´clock you got hungry again and decided to walk to the market around the corner to get one of your favorite sandwiches.

You walked into your bedroom to put on a pair of lose, flowy beige pants and a black tank top before putting on your shoes. You grabbed your bag and walked outside. The sun was shining brightly, only disrupted by one or the other white and fluffy cloud as you made your way to the market. It was like the busy streets of London as well as the weather congratulated you on a successful and productive day so far. Smiling and humming happily you purchased your lunch and made your way back with an additional fizzy raspberry lemonade you just couldn’t pass up.

Back in your apartment you closed your door and looked around. It was all coming together. No more boxes, the plastic plants all where you wanted them, and the handing shelf finally filled with a colorful display of your favorite books. A deep breath came forth as you enjoyed your meal and lemonade on your couch. It was still a little weird to you to be fully responsible for your own feelings and the actions you had to take to achieve them. Making yourself happy was never something you put much effort into and that had also been something you had to learn the hard way.

Now, you thought about your life and for the first time in years felt content. Like you didn’t need anybody else to feel this way. Just yourself. And with this feeling you noticed, came the confidence and willingness to let somebody else in again.

There it was again. Your inner eye producing a mess of blond hair, brown, expressive eyes and an impressive body. With all the nonphysical attributes he´d shown you so far that made him so endearing, it was hard not to notice how your body reacted whenever you thought about his broad back, his waist or his massive thighs. You didn’t want to objectify him and still, in the late hours of the night you and your mind had managed to get you off so hard, you had to use a pillow over your mouth to drown out your screams and whimpering.

A shiver ran down your spine when you thought about last night. Even though it took you about 15 minutes to calm down enough from your orgasm to catch a coherent thought, Simon still managed to invade your dreams. His raspy voice in your ear telling you to go to sleep. Telling you gently to rest and leave it to him (whatever he meant), holding you close to his chest, tangling his legs with yours and drowsily stroking your back.

Waking up without him though always put a bit of a sting to your chest. That feeling was soon replaced with an embarrassed giggle as you fell backwards into your pillows again with your palm covering your eyes.

Maybe, just maybe these dreams could become a reality. If you played your cards right.

Determined to make this date a success even though you had no idea what his plan was, you made your way into your shower. Humming along to your little radio you turned off your shower to start shaving when you stopped dead in your tracks. There he was again, and your heart swelled twice its size. He was taking a shower, singing along to some tune you´d never heard before. It was mesmerizing. Slow and deep. The wall prevented you from hearing what exactly the words were, but the melody alone was so beautiful that you didn’t care.

You´d just finished shaving and were reluctant to turn on the water again when his shot off and the singing yet again stopped. “Bloody hell” you muttered with an airy, fluttering feeling in your stomach. Pampering was the next step. You used your rich body butter and your loveliest perfume. Feeling great and refreshed you used the rest of the time to put on your fluffy bathrobe, sit on your couch and tend to your toes and feet since you decided to wear sandals.

Only five minutes left, and you just finished putting the last efforts into your hair as you heard three strong knocks on your door. Hurrying over to your door you almost tripped over your own feet. Taking a deep breath, you opened your door. Holy gosh darn fucking crap!! That was not fair. It just wasn’t.

Matching his black mask, he wore a black polo shirt that hugged him way better than the other shirts you´d seen on him. His dark washed jeans were held up by a brown leather belt with a silver buckle. You knew he was built but this? The way his biceps was stretching the material and the jeans clung to his thighs made your mouth water. He´d styled his hair only slightly but it sat still adorably tousled upon his head.

You smiled up at him and squeezed out a breathless “Hi”. Simon looked down at you with slightly bulging eyes as he took in your outfit of fitted blue jeans and a flowy, emerald-green blouse. Flitting his eyes to yours again he smiled. “Hi” he repeated in a happy tone.

You grabbed your bag and walked out, closing your door behind you and locking it. Only now did you realize that Simon was carrying a small basket. A blanket attached to it and your heart started galloping in your chest. “Did you cook for us?” you asked in an impressed tone. He shook his head slightly. “Nah, I didn’t cook. Not this time.” This time, oh God help me. “But I did assemble of sorts.”

“I see” you said happily and started leaving the building next to him. “I thought we´re doing casual” you said teasingly as you eyed him from the side. Simon snorted shortly as he raised an eyebrow and let his eyes wander down your body. It gave you a sensation unlike any other. “So did I. But I´m glad I wanted a little more than casual. Otherwise, I would have been fatally underdressed.”

A violent shiver ran down your back when you saw his eye wink at you. Your face was burning, you were sure of it.

“Where are we going?” you asked as you noticed him leading you towards nearby park. “Patience” he scolded good naturedly.

About 15 minutes later you ended up on a slight hill in the middle of a beautiful park. Simon stopped next to a tree and began rolling out the blanket. His hulking form seemed a little out of place there, trying to straighten out the blanket. You felt your features soften as he gave out a small grunt before sitting up on his knees and looked up at you. His eyes were glimmering in the gradually setting sun and he patted the blanket next to him softly.

Grinning you lowered yourself and got comfortable. From your place up on the hill you had a stunning view of the soft, carpet like plane of grass spreading out in front of you. Many other people were out and about, walking their dogs, going for a run, casually hanging out with friends. The glimmering skyline of London was seen in the background of massive oak trees at the very end of the park.

“You hungry?” Simons deep voice seeped into your ears and with an excited smile you turned your had and nodded. You observed as he opened the basket and pulled out several boxes with tuna sandwiches (no crust), deviled eggs, veggie sticks, tomatoes, a bag of tortilla chips and what looked like self-made guacamole. The last item he produced was a bottle of what looked like expensive white wine before his eyes caught yours again. Your mouth hung comically wide open as you stared at the feast in front of you.

“You´re not vegetarian, are you?” he suddenly asked and looked at the sandwiches sheepishly. You almost squeaked the way he looked so adorably worried for a second.

“Vegan, actually” you said dryly and almost doubled over laughing when he gave you a shocked look. He rolled his eyes and handed you a tuna sandwich. “Sorry” you mumbled as you took it from him. Then, something came to you. “Uhm” you said carefully as your eyes fluttered down to his mask.

His eyes crinkled again. “If you don’t mind” he said quietly and produced something else from the basket that almost made you choke on your bite of tuna. The silk scarf dangled promisingly and naughtily between his fingers.

You couldn’t really tell if it was supposed to be a joke or not. You looked around you but there were no other people on the hilltop other than you. The next group of people so far away, their heads were the size of a pinhead.

“I´m asking too much, aren’t I?” Simon said as he lowered the scarf back into the basket. “No,” you said quickly. Your voice octaves higher. Did he not realize that this scenario was the beginning of almost every woman’s wet dream? “Give me the scarf, Simon. Please.”

“You sure?” he asked you. You nodded firmly. “If you need me to wear it while we eat, I will.”

His chest seemed to inflate dramatically. “Let me” he breathed and moved his body closer to you. This is a dream; it must be! Closing your eyes, you felt your hands shaking slightly in your lap as you felt the scarf being put over your eyes.

Simon´s warm breath cascaded over your face as he carefully knotted the piece of fabric behind your head. Your pulse was hammering away when you felt his heat, smelled his wonderful musky, citrussy scent cling to the skin of his throat and face. The deep breath you took before you felt him retreat slowly was nothing you could have stopped and again your ears were blessed with an adorable ´hehe´.

“Alright?” he asked. “Yep,” you breathed. “Can´t see a damn thing.” Grinning you tried to feel for your sandwich a little clumsily.

“Hold on” you heard Simon chuckle. “Seeing as I´m taking your ability to see, I think it´s only fair if I-“ a warm hand touched yours and placed your sandwich back in it. “Help you out a little.” His voice lowered even further. Something you would have bet on wasn’t possible. “Y-You really thought this through, haven’t you?” you asked with a hitch in your voice before taking another bite to occupy your mouth.

“Well. I really didn’t want to pass up an opportunity with you” he answered truthfully. A little strangled sound escaped you seconds before a huge smile split your lips.

You sat for another moment in comfortable silence. “How´s the food?” he suddenly asked. Something was off about his voice and suddenly you realized that he had to have removed his mask. A bead of sweat ran down your back. “It´s delicious” you said as you took the last bite of your sandwich. “Did you make all of it yourself?” Simon hummed. “I did. I usually only cook for myself so I don´t get too fancy with it. But I do enjoy it.”

You carefully patted around you to get to the devilled eggs, trying to remember where Simon had put the container but all you suddenly touched was smooth jeans. “Oh, ´M sorry” you said and retracted your hand quickly. “No worries” Simon said. “What do you want?” you could hear the smile in his voice. “Deviled egg, please” you sang and held open your hand.

“Nuh-uh” Simon said and moved in front of you again. “Open up.”

Oh you´ve got to be absolutely shitting me. This cheeky bastard wasn’t really going to…

You obeyed of course, what else was there to do? You opened your mouth and a moment later your lips wrapped around the egg. You could feel Simon´s fingers holding it to your lips before he retracted them in the last second. “Oh my god” you moaned around your mouth full of egg. “Simon, these are incredible.” You heard a gurgling noise in front of you; a bottle of wine being opened shortly after so you brushed it aside.

This is how you spend the next hour. Simon occasionally feeding you with deviled eggs, chips and guacamole. Only the veggie sticks he let you eat by yourself. He handed you the bottle of wine whenever you asked for it and you really tried not to think about how as teenagers, you and your friends had argued many times about weather drinking from the same bottle was equivalent to a kiss or not.

The alcohol settled comfortably into your stomach as did his delicious food.

“Almost time” he said. “Let me get the scarf off you.” Your senses already heightened, you knew exactly where he was on the blanket, when he was in front of you and when his fingertips were about to touch you.

“Time for what?” you asked with a curious smile. You heard a chuckle before the scarf was removed and Simons face came into view. So much closer than it ever had been. He didn’t move an inch, your noses almost touching. His eyes wandering over your face slowly it was almost like you could feel their path burning on your skin. The sun had already set and a warm breeze was wafting all around you, carrying the scent of hot soil, food and the distinct scent of the city.

“You´ll see” Simon murmured into his cloth before lifting his hand and gently touched your cheek. He looked like he was in some sort of trance. His posture was relaxed, his eyes attentive and staring into your soul. It wasn’t like you were any better off. The whole situation was written straight out of a romance novel and the main characters were about to share their first kiss. Even though it was already dark, the lights of the city were still bright enough to see how his breathing becoming heavier, his chest rising and falling in deeper breaths.

A high pitched tone cut the thick air and you saw how Simon momentarily froze before both of you looked over to the skyline of London. Not a second later with a huge bang, a display of beautiful golden flecks decorated the nights sky.

You grinned ear to ear as the fireworks really started and several explosions of light colored your face in green, red and gold. “I love fireworks” you breathed and looked over to Simon with a thankful look in your eyes. He was already looking at you. He stayed seated where he was when you´d moved to see the fireworks better so he was still quite close. His arm was brushing yours when he looked down at you with a soft look in his eyes.

“I´m glad” he said almost too quietly.

Maybe it was the alcohol in your system or the fact that this man made you feel at ease, lighthearted and without a worry in the world. You couldn’t remember. You just let your head fall onto his shoulder, looking at the firework in front of you and smiling contently.

Simon´s POV

Simon didn’t dare move. The soft skin of your hand slightly brushing his was enough to make him lose his damn mind. Almost. The first firework had startled him but the way the golden light had illuminated your face and the smile you´d given him had made him forget almost everything.

The moment he saw you he knew that he wanted something special with you. You didn´t mind his mask, respected it even. That was something new he had never experienced with a civilian before. You´d managed to sneak into his life and heart so quickly and with such force it worried him a little bit. Any day now he could get called back to base again. Maybe he needed to speed it along a little?

No. Not with you. You didn’t deserve that. He´d let you know if he had to leave again and just take his chances. For the first time he wanted a kiss more than a night of passionate sex to get the edge off. He could take his own edge off, god knows he had to do it in the barracks often enough.

Your whole being however made him yearn for something that went deeper than that. A hug would be worth more than undressing, a kiss worth more than foreplay.

He took a deep breath without moving his shoulder too much, just letting himself fall into the moment. Watching fireworks, having your head lean on him, his fingers playfully chasing yours.

___ POV

By the end of the fireworks you felt like you were floating. Simons fingers were tangles with yours by this point and it felt so delicate and new, you felt like a teenager again. Your heart was doing summersaults in your chest. Thinking about this evening would end eventually made your heart sink.

The last colorful explosion brightened up the sky and you let out a deep sigh. “That was beautiful” you whispered. “Thank you.”

“You´re very welcome” Simon rumbled, locking his picky with yours. You were glad at this point that your position hid your huge grin. Now that the fireworks were over, the alcohol, food and late hour caught up with you. The small yawn you tried to stifle wasn’t lost on him however and he sighed contently. “Come on. I´ll bring you home.”

He stood up and held out his hand which you took immediately. As if you weight nothing he pulled you upright holding your gaze and your hand for several moments longer.

You helped him gather everything before you made your way back to your apartment complex. He didn’t try to take your hand again which made you wonder a little bit. The both of you talked about anything and everything until you were standing in front of your door.

“That was a lot of fun” you said as you turned to him and smiled. You saw how his cheeks lifted again as he nodded. “It was. I´m glad you liked the fireworks.”

“I did” you said. “How did you know there were going to be fireworks tonight?” Simon shrugged comically. “That´s my little secret.”

You giggled. The awkward silence you were afraid was going to come at any second now, did not come. Simon yet again proved that he was a man of action and the direct approach.

“I´d really like to do that again.”

You nodded immediately, feeling heat creeping up your neck. “Yeah, me too.”

“Great” he said happily before stepping closer. He took hold of your hand and lifted it to his face. Without breaking eye contact he waited for the fraction of a second for your reaction. When he saw your almost pleading eyes his clothed mouth came down on the back of your hand, kissing it.

Your knees got week and yet again grew heavy with longing. The breath was propelled from your lungs by the way he did it so gently and sincere.

The soft material of his mask was slightly damp from his breath but you couldn’t care less. He was kissing your skin. His mouth was on you. Cloth or no cloth it made you vision blurr.

Simon let go of your hand after what felt like an eternity.

“Sleep well, darlin´” he muttered almost carefully as if the pet name could somehow be a deal breaker for you.

It wasn’t. On the contrary. You felt like your legs were about to give out.

“You too, Simon” you smiled at him dreamily. Reluctantly you turned around and fumbled for your keys. You opened your door and took another peek to your right in his direction.

He´d done the same thing. Pushing his door open he gave you that juvenile little wave again before disappearing from your sight. Sighing deeply as soon as your door closed behind you, this time you didn’t make it to the couch. Your knees gave out then and there and with the silliest of smiles you glided down your door. Your trusty little toy would have to work overtime until the next time you´d be able to drown in those hazel depths again.

____________________________________________________

Again, thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it <3

Please consider interacting with this post and give me some feedback. Comments and reblogs always help not only to push my work that I love, but also help to improve my writing and get my imagination going.

Thank you for considering it <3

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[thehusbandoden]

Lonesome Nights -Soft!Dabi x Reader

I'm still very new to this, so please bear with me! Umm this is an old drabble of mine, so I can't guarantee the quality. Enjoy!

Kinda angsty in the beginning.. more like a comfort fic than anything.

(I have zero idea if I did Dabi right at all.)

You love your secret husband. You completely, and utterly do. And that's probably why you're hurting so much right now.

When you insisted your relationship couldn't progress into anything intimate until marriage Dabi grudgingly agreed after a few weeks of arguments. You both loved each other deeply, and after five years of secretly dating you both wanted something more. But, you wanted marriage, and Dabi didn't want to put you in anymore danger. Finally, after five weeks of arguing, hurt feelings, and lonely nights Dabi agreed to the marriage. And so you both eloped after a month of recovering. And now here you were, seven months later.

Lonely and depressed while crying to a picture of your cold husband. You know he loves you, you do. But that doesn't sooth your aching heart when he ignores your texts and calls for weeks on end. You knew he wasn't cheating, Dabi was too broken, loyal, and outspoken to hurt the one person who truly wanted and loved him.

He had villain work to do, and to protect you he would leave one night and not come back for weeks, not even notifying you on occasion. Since after your marriage this has been the longest he's been gone, and be didn't even tell you this time. It hurt, you'd gotten so used to having your husband with you it physically hurt to have him away. You needed him, his warmth, his gentle touch, his raspy yet gentle voice, his sweet kisses, honestly, you missed every little thing about him.

You tried to contact him, but he always turned off his phone on missions. For both of your safety. He couldn't get distracted, and the league couldn't know about you. No one could. You sobbed as you stroked your phone, a picture of one of Dabi's rare smiles. "I miss you so much... Just come home my Love.". You cried, snuggling closer to the body pillow you found in your closet a few months after dating.

Dabi never mentioned anything but it was obvious he got it for you. It did have a large print of him on both sides after all. When Dabi leaves or you get in a fight you'll spray Dabi's cologne onto it and snuggle into it, it was your comfort. You laid there for hours, finally falling asleep around midnight, your tears staining your face.

Dabi walked into his apartment, successfuly hiding his excitement to finally be home. He's been gone for five weeks, and he couldn't wait to slip into the arms of his lovely (Y/n). He's missed his love so much. He's gotten used to your loving words, endless warmth, sweet smell, soothing voice, and endless love. You're perfect, and no matter how hard it was, he's so, so happy he married you. And eventually, when that man's dealt with.. maybe he could settle down for you.. just maybe.

After softly closing the door Dabi took off his coat and boots, throwing them on the floor per usual. He didn't really want to deal with the pain of putting them away after a long mission, and it made you happy to see them on the floor. It helped assure you that he was home and safe. Dabi strolled towards your shared bedroom before softly opening the door. Strolling towards your side of the bed, he smiled as he saw you cuddled into his pillows instead of your own. Smiling wider he studied your sleeping form clinging to the body pillow of himself.

As he got to his side of the bed he crouched down to study your face. Moving a strand of your hair behind your ear he stooped down to kiss your forehead, and then he saw it. The red tear stains that littered your cheeks.

Now, even though Dabi could be a bit.. oblivious, doesn't mean he didn't know that you've been crying. Boiling anger shook Dabi, he knew you better than he knew himself. Unless you were extremely hormonal -which happens rarely- you didn't cry for something silly. So something horrible must have happened to you! Were you being bullied again? If so they would die tonight.

Quietly cursing, Dabi pulled out his personal phone and turned it on for the first time in five weeks. Unlocking it, he pulled up your texts. Whenever you were struggling and he wasn't there to talk in person you would text him. And Dabi was right. In all there were 163 text messages and 42 missed calls.

Guilt filled Dabi as he read text after text. You had missed him. That must have been why you were crying! Stepping out into the living room Dabi listened to every voice mail you left him, saving all of them. After calming himself down -and convincing himself that burning into his already burnt skin would just hurt you more- Dabi walked back into your bedroom. Climbing into bed behind you, Dabi snuggled as close to you as possible, praying that you would let go of that darned body pillow and hold him instead.

Blinking your eyes open you frowned. Remembering your dismay last night, it was understandable you would have a dream of Dabi coming home. Sighing, you shifted your position, digging your face into Dabi's pillows for comfort. You usually spray Dabi's cologne onto them before bed so you would have a faint hint of his smell. But, it's been hours.. so why is the smell so fresh? Shaking your head you convinced yourself to get up.

Walking out to the hallway you stopped at the darkness. You always kept the blinds open when Dabi wasn't home so you could enjoy the sunlight.

Since Dabi was a wanted criminal, he always kept the blinds closed. Walking into the living room you baffled at the familiar unlocked door and Dabi's discarded boots and jacket. That must mean...

"Good morning Mouse." a familiar voice whispered in your ear as strong, warm arms encircled your waist. "D-Dabi?" you ask, voice cracking with emotion.

"Baby.. have you really missed me that much?" Dabi asked, his voice thick with guilt. "It's just... I've gotten so used to you being with me all day.. and I didn't even have time to prepare.." you whisper, tears glistening your already red eyes.

"(Y/n)... Baby. You know that I have to work." "I- I know... But could I maybe get a warning next time? It hurts to wake up to you gone.."

Dabi smiled painfully, his eyes full of distress. "Okay. I will. I'm so sorry Dollface..." Dabi turned you around so you were facing him, pressing you impossibly closer.

"I love you.." you whisper, kissing Dabi's jaw. "And I you." Dabi whispered back, pressing a returning kiss on your head, lingering for a while.

Masterlist

Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way, minus reblogging.

[tsukikumai]

Glasses & Clinginess

Ike Eveland x reader

Slightly nsfw!! Established relationship.

Feeling clingy, you decide to distract Ike from his work…

It was after dinner, Ike was typing away at his desk, working on a project. Maybe it was that tiny cup of alcohol you had, or hormones acting up, but you were feeling especially clingy that night.

You slowly opened the door to his work office, peaking in, to see his beach-colored eyes meet yours.

He smiled softly at you, “ Hey there,” he said, turning back to face his monitors. “I’m just working on some things, I’ll finish up real quick and we can watch the show you wanted me to see, alright?”

You hummed in response, step by step, you slowly approached his figure.

You used your hand to turn his wheelie chair around to face you, and climbed in to his lap.

“Wha- Y/n?“ He uttered, stunned. But soon he let out a sigh of relief and began patting your head with his soft hand.

“What’s bothering you, my Love?”

“Muhfing…(Nothing…)” you murmured, with your head buried into his neck. His sweet scent engulfing your surroundings.

=========more under the cut==========

He let out a light chuckle, continuing to run his hands through your hair.

He resumed to work, with you in his lap. Your arms wrapped around his neck, head leaning against his shoulders.

You nuzzled against his skin, moving around to feel comfortable.

“You’re so adorable…” Your boyfriend cooed. At this moment, your eyes stared at his pale neck, letting the impulsive thoughts win, you opened your mouth and bit his neck.

“Ow!” Ike exclaimed, “I compliment you and this is what you thank me with?”

You let out a small evil laugher, “Sorry… I’ll kiss it better.” With that, you planted soft kisses around the area of damage you caused. However, you didn’t stop with just a few, you continued to shower his neck with small pecks.

“I-I think that’s enough now, Dear…” Ike blurted out. This response only made you leave longer kisses on his neck, the duration of contact increasing with every single smooch.

“Y/n.” Ike spoke in an assertive manner.

“Hm?” You hummed, continuing your objective.

“Are you trying to get a reaction out of me?” Ike questioned, with his hands still placed firmly on his keyboard.

You gave him no response, carrying on with your duties.

Suddenly, you felt a hand wrap around the front of your neck, pulling you up to meet Ike’s piercing eyes, with a devious smile plastered on his face.

He leaned in, his soft lips met yours.

At first, it was a sweet and gentle kiss, then he got progressively more confident and passionate. His hands roamed your backside, ultimately one hand gripped your waist and the other held your hair out of the way. His breath hitched, your heartbeats synchronized like one human being. His tongue slowly wandered into your mouth, tying together with yours.

Your hands reached up to his soft hair, lightly pulling on it.

“Mhm…” His voice escaped his mouth, the vibrations traveled through your body.

Abruptly, Ike broke contact. Confused, you opened your eyes to see him staring at your plump lips, lightly bitting his own. You used this small amount of time to catch your breath, feeling excitement bubble in your veins. He quickly pulled off his glasses with one hand, tossing them on his desk before smacking his lips onto yours once again, with a kiss that was much more deeper this time.

With one swift motion, he stood up, still holding you close with his arms hoisting you up. You automatically straddled him by the waist with your legs. Perhaps it was because you were so focused on him, you were already in your shared bedroom without even realizing it. How did he know his way even though you were both caught up in a passionate make out session? No clue.

He slowly laid you onto the soft mattress, his tongue still touching yours. He stood up, towering over you while you laid vulnerably below him. He grasped his tie with his right hand, lightly loosening it before slowly crawling on top of you.

“You look so pretty like this, Darling.”

[e-wills-afterhours]

Heyo! How about some more Hiccstrid tenderness? Like... married Hiccstrid enjoying their evening or early morning? (Married or not)

River

----

Falling in love was a peculiar thing. Starting like the rush of a rain-swollen river, it cascaded over the numerous rocks of life's small problems, twisting around the bends of imperfect idiosyncrasies. The unstoppable surge of desire carried many further downstream than the relationship was meant to go, until the white caps of infatuation settled into steady currents of routine, and the loss of excitement was too much to handle. Some people craved only the rapids, good or bad--but there was much yet to be discovered and appreciated in love's gentle babbling and swirls, as the torrent eased. Adoration flowed on apace.

Undeniable was the undertow of raging hormones that Hiccup could not have resisted Astrid's affections at first if he wanted to--and he didn't. He was all too glad to be pulled under, dragged along by a want and need far more powerful than himself. This carried them in the beginning, adrift in the unrelenting waters until they all but drowned.

Then life interceded. Responsibilities and extenuating circumstances drew their focus away from each other solely, so that they could come up for air. Heads above the surface, they could see plainly the banks that now constrained them: they were older, Hiccup was going to be the chief someday, and expectations mounted as the carelessness of youth receded.

But it was there, in the comforting loyalty and companionship of a long-established romance that one could discover just how deep the waters ran; and Hiccup noticed it was more than the sway is his lover's hips or the blue of her eyes when she looked at him--now his heart skipped when she took his hand of her own volition, or the way she smiled with fondness and awe as he recounted his latest invention. He lived less for the physical aspects of their relationship, though such moments were still exquisite and plentiful. A kiss was just as thrilling as a long morning flight together, and fingertips roaming over flushed skin was as delicious as lying giddy and breathless together in a sunny patch of wildflowers, watching the clouds float overhead. He would just as much revel in passionate whispers in the dark as Astrid's belly laugh. Especially when a little snort slipped out and they both fell to pieces.

"Are you sure you aren't shirking your duties to spend time with me?" Astrid teased, rolling on her side to look at him.

"I never said I wasn't," Hiccup replied honestly, plucking a blade of grass from her windswept hair. "But as far as my dad knows, I'm still sleeping in. My chores aren't going anywhere. This sunrise, however..."

They snuck off together right before the dawn, to fly to some secluded place where they could watch the first bands of sunlight pierce the night. Someone would eventually notice, but the whispers and scandal no longer captured the village's interest. One might as well have remarked that water was wet.

"As if you sleep!" She rolled on top of him, straddling his waist.

Her braid hung loosely over her shoulder, and she was gorgeous as ever. Not just for her figure and the way she carried herself, but for the tiny freckles you had to be nose-to-nose to notice. Small, faded scars and flyaway hairs, with subtle asymmetries all made up Hiccup's vision of perfection.

Their dragons play-wrestled nearby, which they did often when they were not chasing animals through the underbrush.

"Everything in moderation," he replied, lightly tugging the end of her braid.

She wrinkled her nose in the way he adored before settling down on top of him, head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a squeeze. Though Astrid was not someone who needed such tenderness to thrive, she sought comfort from him anyway. For a moment, she could feel vulnerable--it had taken months into their relationship for her to allow herself to let go of that control. Hiccup has once never dared to imagine he might get to be her refuge, back when her affections were more assertive and demanding: an indefatigable force of nature. What they had now was solid and assured, peaceful and effortless. Her fingers locked with his as if second nature--perhaps it was. Whether their touches would grow hotter and more purposeful seldom mattered anymore. They floated along through each day, each moment alone together, as the current carried them without an agenda. Being together, however it manifested, was enough.

"I'm going to do some training today, with the older kids--the ones who recently got their dragons. Your dad wants me to teach them basic defensive maneuvers while flying," Astrid said, idly stroking his chest.

"That sounds about right."

His father used to watch the two of them with exasperating hope and enthusiasm, as if he had willed their feelings for one another into existence. Then acceptance moved into the wake. Astrid was just about as common around their house now as Toothless, and that was saying something. His father asked favors of her like she already bore Hiccup's last name, for their trajectory was obvious if one but followed the riverbend.

She lifted her head up to meet his gaze. "Will you be there?"

He placed a hand on the small of her back and asked, "Do you want me there?"

She smiled. "It might be nice."

"You sure Toothless and I won't cramp your style?"

"Babe, you are the style."

"Ha!"

Astrid gave a soft laugh and pressed her forehead against his, breathing deeply and contentedly as one might do before dipping into a spring, cool and serene.

"I love you, Hiccup," she murmured.

And he knew those beautiful words were genuine. They came from a calm and steady tenor where words needed not be spoken, and thus held more weight than the words tossed about in a red-hot tumult. The heady rush new love was long behind them, where sometimes what was spoken was at the mercy of the crest and nadir of lust and longing--where words of praise could turn into barbs when the thrills ebbed and there was no tumbling, chaotic passion left to hide them. Navigating the loud, all-consuming whitewater was fun for its season, but Hiccup had come to prefer his river clear and still, where he could rest in its depth and the gentle lapping at the banks of his heart.

So, he kissed her forehead and said, "I love you too," although he did not have to.

[chrisevansonly]

Baby Styles Is A……? (Harry’s Angel AU🦋)

pairing: Harry Styles x Female Reader (Angel)

summary: it’s gender reveal time, and Harry can’t wait to find out if he’ll be a boy dad or a girl dad

warnings: slight insecurity mention but filled with fluff and sweet Harry

a/n: yay yay yay the day is here where we find out the gender of baby styles and continue with this chapter of Harry & Angel’s life

There were no words to describe just how beautiful the backyard looked at your home in Cheshire, floral arrangements that you and Poppy had worked on spreading throughout your garden. The sun was out and thankfully it was quite warm today, tables set up for friends and family, today was the day you were finding out the gender of yours and Harry’s baby. Ever since your bump had popped a few days ago, Harry had been so enamoured with it, snapping photos, resting his hand on the swell of your stomach while you slept or cuddled on the couch. Harry was so incredible happy and excited to be a dad, and even more so that he was experiencing these special moments with you, his angel. 

You wore a beautiful dress that accentuated your beauty, you’d been struggling with your body recently, and as you admired yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t help but do a spin, you looked stunning. Truth be told as much excitement as you had for today, you couldn’t stop the slight ache in your heart that your parents couldn’t make it. Despite having a good and normal relationship with them, they were slightly old fashioned and the fact that you and Harry weren’t married made things a bit tense between you all. Harry had definitely noticed your mood shift at the news that they couldn’t make it and had done everything he could to cheer you up.

After a few last glances in the mirror you headed downstairs, laughter and chatting filtering through the open French doors that led to the back garden 

“There she is!”

At the sound of Harry’s voice you smiled, walking out to meet him, saying your hellos to everyone that had come 

“I was wondering where you were”

He pressed a kiss to your temple as you leaned into his side 

“I tried to be quick, but I got sidetracked”

“Everything okay”

Looking up at him you nodded

“Everything’s perfect” 

His eyes held nothing but love and admiration for you his hands rubbing your stomach gently before Anne walked over 

“Oh, petal you look so beautiful!”

“Thank you mum”

Anne had been such a constant mother figure to you while things were going on with your own family, never hesitating to help and provide any support you needed. So, to say the hug she gave you was needed, would be an understatement.

“I’m so excited for you both, this is such a special day for you, I hope I can help fill it with all the love I can”

You blinked back a few tears, a mix of hormones and hurt to blame 

“Just you being here with me is enough to make it special mum” 

She smiled sadly catching a stray tear before letting you and Harry wander around, looking at the décor, seeing friends and family spread out around the property, it helped to fill the void you’d felt this morning. You were thankful that despite everything going on, you had such an amazing and loving group of people in your corner.

-

Harry was basically vibrating out of excitement beside you as you waited to find out the gender of baby Styles, you were incredibly nervous, but as you hugged your arms around his waist, it brought you some much needed comfort to ward off the anxiety you felt in your chest. You both knew whatever you were having, it didn’t matter as long as they were healthy, you’d be the absolutely best parents either way, and the waiting was about to be over. 

“Okay everyone, we are here today to find out the gender of little bee aka baby Styles!”

Cheers erupted around you as you smiled, Poppy sending you a wink

“Before we find out if it’s a girl or a boy I just wanted to say how happy I am for both Harry and my sister, I have never seen her this happy, and this in love before.”

She paused shaking her head gently 

“Harry continues to bring the moon and the stars to y/n every single day, and I know he’s do just about anything for her, so thank you H for loving my sister with everything in you, and for showing her the light within this world, I am very lucky and grateful for you and consider you a brother already” 

You sniffled, wiping your eyes before Poppy came over and hugged you both, squeezing you a bit tighter, and you silently thanked her for that. 

“Now, before I start ugly sobbing like I do when I watch ‘UP’ lets see what the Styles’s will be having!!” 

When they started counting down you looked at Harry, his eyes already on yours 

“Are you nervous?”

He smiled 

“Not at all, m’just excited, are you nervous angel?”

“A little…but also excited too” 

He was about to say something when pink glitter and dust filled the air around you, cheering ringing in your ears. Your hand covered your mouth in shock and Harry was quick to pull you into his chest, his arms holding onto you tightly as if you’d parish into thin air 

“Holy shit, a girl, it’s a girl y/n!”

You held onto him just as tightly sobbing into his sweater

“I-I can’t believe it”

He pulled back enough to hold your face in his hands, only then could you see his own tears cascading gently down his cheeks, his lips pressing to yours 

“My girls, my beautiful girls, love you both so much” 

“We love you too baby so so much” 

After enjoying one another for a few more seconds you were enveloped in many hugs, given many congratulations and your heart was filled with so much love and warmth. Your parents would come around eventually, but you had everything you needed right here in front of you, your very loving fiancé, your friends and of course your family. If you looked back on the first hospital visit in Australia, you would have never thought you’d be here today celebrating a baby girl with those closest to you. 

You had never been more excited for the future and Harry felt just the same…

[amyzaaiman-blog]

On Grief & The Hard Time That People Are Giving Jackie Howard:

I just have to say that I lost my mom 3 years ago & have no relationship with my father, so I'm essentially an orphan. I feel like I shouldn't have to say this, but everyone grieves differently. You don't know how you're going to respond until you're in that situation, so don't judge so hastily. My mom was the closest person in the world to me (besides my husband, who has been an amazing support) & losing her turned me into a complete mess. I didn't leave the house for about a year (that's not an exaggeration), I picked up about 17kgs and then proceeded to vomit everyday for the next year and lost all of the weight again. My hair fell out in clumps. I couldn't sleep. My period stopped for about 1.5 years. I did things I would NEVER have done beforehand, such as seeking escapism like smoking weed everyday. I couldn't function properly or work. I had permanent brain fog. Other people have different ways of responding to this type of situation. I was in such a confused, repressed haze for so long that I only feel as if I'm properly processing her passing now. For the first time in 3 years, I'm finally experiencing anger (which is one of the key phases of bereavement). You just never know.

If you read the book, it's clear that Jackie initially does have a very intense, emotional response after her family dies - she falls apart. She doesn't get out of bed for like a month. Then, one day, as a way of distracting herself & making her family proud, she gets out of bed & focuses solely on getting into Princeton. While they don't show all of this backstory in the show, it's very obvious to me that she's bottling up all of her emotions. Her worst nightmare is to be pitied. And honestly, as she says in the show, no one knows what to say to you in such circumstances. Everything sounds awkward/disingenuous/well-meaning but misplaced/alienating.

I'm really not surprised that she shies away from the deep connection that she has with Cole (who, let's be honest, is a fuckboy at the beginning of the show but who she clearly has a unique & immediate attachment to). She's so vulnerable that she latches onto the "safe" brother who makes her feel relatively normal again. He offers comfort & stability, which is exactly what you need when you feel lost, alone & untethered. She can't afford to be hurt again & that's what Cole represents/threatens - especially because of the way he treats other girls. When Cole asks her why she's with Alex, she doesn't say it's because she likes Alex more, but rather cites Cole's behaviour towards other women.

These boys are also forms of distraction from her grief. And to add to the mix, she's only 15 years old. What hormonal teenager hasn't been confused or made stupid, rash decisions that they regret? I'm 33 years old and I'm still making mistakes and cringing from things I said & did a month ago, a day ago, an hour ago. It's really obvious that her attraction to Cole continues percolating throughout the show until he does something so meaningful/thoughtful that she can't ignore her feelings any longer. And what he does for her is especially touching because it's so inherently related to her loss & the absence of her family. Throughout the show, Cole is the only one she really opens up to about her family; how much she misses them & her home. He understands her in a way that others don't because she won't let them in in the same way. He truly sees her. They challenge each other. And while these are beautiful parts about falling in love, they can also be extremely frightening because there's nowhere to hide.

I don't even blame the parents for not noticing what is truly going on (although I think Katherine has an idea). Teenagers are renowned for being secretive (not to mention that the adults are also dealing with much of their own stress). I actually really like the scenes that she has with Katherine. I think that they have an understanding. Katherine is still getting to know Jackie & there's no way that she'll ever come close to replacing her mother. It just doesn't work like that. People aren't interchangeable.

It's also important to note that Jackie's whole shtick & manner of coping is to have a veneer of being "fine". I think that she's worried that if she shatters the illusion, she'll just fall apart again. She's barely holding it together. Particularly at the start of the show, she's just going through the motions & existing. The messy but loving (albeit not in the very, very beginning) environment of the Walter household is what's keeping her afloat. By the end (she even says this), she finally feels like she belongs. She has meaningful relationships with the whole Walter family & extended clan, & the reason that she leaves is because she knows how royally she's fucked up. She's overwhelmed & scared - fearful of her own roiling emotions & how she's exacerbated the rift between Alex & Cole.

Yes, you could call her hypocritical because Cole "stealing" Paige (She's not an object, so let's check that language. She is a person & has agency) is one of the main things that Jackie repeatedly holds against him (& uses as an excuse for keeping him at a distance). But she definitely realises this, which is why she runs away. She knows that she's acted against her own morals.

This is a very long post, but my ultimate point is that people should have a little more compassion. Grief is not a linear process & life is not simply black & white - there are vast shades of grey in between. People can make "bad" choices & redeem themselves. Are we meant to define people by one ill-thought-out/passion-based/heat-of-the-moment decision that they made as a teenager when they were severely traumatised? I think that forgiveness is a better option & that people should be allowed to grow, change & learn from their mistakes. Season 2 is still on its way, remember?

[cryptidfuckery]

Your old social media was literally my first ever introduction to anyone identifying beyond the gender binary. In 2014, I was watching youtube videos in the small UK city I grew up in, and your videos were recommended. And I felt instant recognition when you talked about gender things, because I'm non-binary and I'd never heard of anyone identifying or expressing themselves that way when I was younger. You were the LGBT+ elder that I really appreciated advice from. (Even if you are only a few years older than me, you seemed much wiser). So I just wanted to say thank you for being your out and authentic self for so many years. Wishing you a good week. P.S. if you like cute animals, I highly recommend looking up photos of bog turtles, they definitely made my week better.

I'm really, really glad that I was able to help you!!

This definitely isn't the first time I've heard this. Notably, when I was at an anime convention years ago during that time, I had someone approach me and say essentially the same thing and also cry. Wonderful experience, also a fucking wild experience!!

It's one of the things I'm proudest of my younger self for. I was lucky enough to learn through my close friends at the time, but I definitely saw that there just. Wasn't enough information readily available for the people who might be interested. So I dug my heels in and allowed myself to be a resource, because it was important. Most of what I was doing was regurgitating what I was learning from my own elders and community, but it was important for people to have a face to the idea. Someone they could talk to and be validated by.

That was either around or over 10 years ago now. I've identified as genderqueer for over 10 years. I sometimes think about an the people who might have a similar time line just for the sake that I talked about it openly.

That time also helped me realize that I didn't want to go into activism full time. I love it, its important, but it made me realize that it would take too much out of me. Maybe I was able to handle it better because I was still being supported by family, and my only obligation (that I shirked a hell of a lot of) was highschool.

That doesn't mean I Completely stopped though. I'm one of those people you can make the joke "they'll trans your gender." I have a joke that the only people who don't end up more trans by the end of dating me are Very cis men. (I have a theory that the people who do end up "more trans" are attracted to the androgy for a reason, whether they realize or not).

I like to think it's because I know what questions to ask, not to push too hard, but more than anything, let them describe how they're feeling about their gender/sexuality with no judgements. Letting them explore it in a safe space. So my activism kind of happens there.

But more than that, I'm a hairdresser that caters toward queer/trans/gay people. That's where I feel I actually do my activism.

And I'll be real with you, I'm not out to all my clients. I work in a mixed bag neighborhood (old conservatives, young liberals, EVERYTHING inbetween) so half of that is keeping myself safe. The other half is not wanting to put extra work on myself trying to fight to explain my identify to someone who 1) doesn't actually care and 2) most likely won't actually hear a thing i say. I talk to the clients that bring it up, and come out to them if they ask. I'm not necessarily tight lipped about my queerness, but like all of us, at know how to illude without specifics. I let my clients decide their comfort level.

But my TRANS CLIENTS. They are SO important to me. I'm able to surround myself with the people I love, who I can crack a gender joke at and know I'll get a laugh. People I can really talk to about dysphoria, about hormones, about surgeries, about relationships, about sex, about family, about friends, about life in a way I don't get to with my other clients.

Even more important than that, I can make a huge step in their transition that much easier. I had a good amount of freshly cracked eggs find me after quarantine/the pandemic (it's not over). As we all know, it was a huge self reflection time. But I got to be there to be the first to validate their gender through their hair. That in itself can be an extremely nerve wracking process. My trans clients coming to me have allowed me to figure out the best way to naviagte the situation in a way where they feel comfortable and validated. It means the world to me. Seriously.

This is where I feel I actually do my activism. It's not explaining what gender is, it's not explaining pronouns. It's getting to assure someone they're on the right path. That what they're doing is good, and it's happy, and there's someone who's proud of them for going through the hard, hard process. I have people I've now been seeing for years who I've gotten to support through hormone changes, through identity changes, through relationship changes.

But one of the things I really try to stress is that being trans, while it absolutely has it's difficulty, it's supposed to be joyous. It's supposed to be the joy of being who you feel you really are. The joy of being loved for who you are. The joy of loving as you are. The joy of being loved by your community. The joy of loving life. Being trans is the joy of love, and the constant readmission that you love yourself more than anyone else can take away.

I cried a little bit writing that ngl.

Last thing I wanna say is that if I did happen to touch your life in a way that helped you become more fully realized, pass on the favor. The next time you have a friend or loved one you're getting the signals from, ask the questions. Be patient with them. Let them change their answers. Nudge but don't shove. Crack a joke. Meet them where they are.

Do it with love.

[zestyaahbutler]

if nobody fills your inbox like i’m gonna fill heinkel’s ass, they’re not doing it right

HAD TO ASK MY FIRST QUESTION: since i want amulya away from those crusty white men for a minute, how do you think she is as a mother? and what was her brief relationship with integra like?

love your writing so much btw<3

Thank u sunslept, I will provide u with enough Amulya content as you ask for. I salute u in your Heinkel endeavors!!! I be going crazy at the fact that I have such a dedicated fan. Your comments and interactions have made me smile a bunch. I felt soooo bad for not getting this out the day you sent it in. I shall include a doodle for the inconvenience:

Fuck them old guys >:)

Amulya’s relationship with Integra

TW: mentions of suicide, questionable dynamics, mental illness, average Hellsing lore

Amulya was extremely happy to become pregnant with Integra. She first became pregnant with Integra almost 2 years. As I said before, her pregnancy was relatively normal. Her mental state has never been the best but it was at least manageable. 

However, when the full scope of what the organization was revealed to her and Arthur mentioned Integra being designated as the eventual heir, Amulya was very much against it. She was dealing with a ton of emotions and hormones so finding out near the end of her term. For Arthur to lie about her and give her such big news felt like a huge betrayal. She didn’t want Integra to be involved with an organization that dealt with such heinous creatures. Even if it was for the good, she wanted Integra to be normal and grow up to be whatever she wanted. It felt too soon to expect their daughter in a leadership role. As worried as she was, she tried to understand Arthur’s views on the matter and suppress her own opinions. 

Integra was born on October 27th, 1977, at 7:43 in the morning. Fortunately, she was a very healthy baby. Both Amulya and Arthur were ecstatic about Integra coming into the world. It was surreal for her to hold and get to know someone who had been growing inside her for nine months. Even as happy as she was, Amulya developed post-partum depression. She couldn’t say why she felt as sad and guilty as she did but it was an overwhelming amount. She would often cry about how she felt horrible for bringing such a pure human being into the terrible world. She wanted to leave that terrible world and would feel even worse. She was scared of holding Integra herself. Amulya couldn’t bare the thought of somehow hurting Integra. Amulya was also terrified of being alone with her. For months, she relied on nannies, maids, or Walter for helping with Integra. She had a routine of having them hold Integra while she sits next to them. If she ever hold Integra, it was for short amounts of time. 

Amulya felt like an inadequate wife and mother. She had difficulty sleeping. Integra would wake up at odd times at night which didn’t help. She was scared of Integra possibly dying in her sleep. While she trusted everyone to look after her and had more help than she could’ve asked for, there was still always the feeling something could happen. The worst times for her were when she would walk to Integra’s room at night sleep deprived and just look at her. Nothing in particular would happen but she would be thinking about taking Integra and leaving, strangling Integra so she wouldn’t have to live in such a world, or taking her own life. She never acted on hurting Integra but those thoughts were the ones that made her too scared to hold her. 

Arthur was supportive and tried to ease Amulya’s mental state as much as he could. One of the steps he took to help was using one of the organization's psychologists to help Amulya process the information on the organization much better. This was an older woman who had kids herself and was plenty experienced with helping victims with trauma regarding the supernatural. This woman played a massive part in Amulya becoming more comfortable with the organization and keeping her spirits up. 

Arthur was always a very busy man. He always loved Integra since she was born. There were just not a ton of opportunities for him to take time off.

After almost a year, Amulya was able to hold Integra on her own. She even had Integra sleep in the bed with her. Due to her less-than-stellar start to motherhood, she tried her best to make up for it by spending as much time as possible with her daughter. She designated time for herself and for her hobbies but spent the majority of her time raising and doting on her. Amulya wanted to be there for every milestone. Not that Arthur would ever want to break her heart, but Integra’s first word was said around him. Amulya and Arthur were both present when Integra took her first steps. Amulya felt more and more whole seeing Integra growing up. She even saw bits of her personality forming. Integra wasn’t too needy but when she was set on something, she would throw a bit of a fit. It didn’t help that Amulya would give in. These fits were mainly Amulya putting her down for more than a few minutes or not being able to give Integra to Arthur while he was working. This resulted in Amulya spending some days in the office with Arthur while holding Integra. She even had a couch put in his office so she would have somewhere comfortable to sit. 

Amulya adored how Integra looks. Her looking so much like Arthur was the best to her. Integra’s hair was blonde to her surprise. She doesn’t have a clear idea on how the genes were that strong but she wasn’t ever unhappy with it. She was excited to get Integra her first haircut but was destroyed at some of her beautiful hair being cut off. She styled Integra’s hair in bows and clips. She dressed her in fancy outfits and hats. The accessories would come off while Integra was playing but was sure to take pictures of her before they did. Amulya was very excited for the holidays so she could dress Integra up for parties. 

Amulya was picky choosey on who she allowed around Integra. She never had a good experience around Richard. He wasn’t allowed alone with Integra or even hold her. She was convinced that he always had a different motive than getting to know his niece. 

She was ore than happy to show off Integra to the members of the round table. If there as a meeting, there was a chance of Amulya popping in for a brief distraction to announce that Integra had woken up from a nap. 

While she was a very caring mother, she still dealt with depression and anxiety. This might be a little weird to say but just because she was very happy doesn’t mean she never had intrusive thoughts or episodes. The times that she was really bad were impulsive decisions. She never regretted Integra, she regretted being the one to be her mother. Ultimately, she felt like she was too weak and too much of a burden to the people around her.

Just me talking: I hope that helps! <3 If anyone has any more questions, drawing requests, or story requests regarding Amulya, let me know. I apologize for taking a while to respond to this. I got a little too passionate about my small story with her and Walter.

[witchersmistress]

Stolen by the monster part 7

Hello my darlings!! As promised, here is part 7, if you skipped 6 you are not missing anything, this picks up with her leaving the hospital!!

Id like to give credit for the gif to @littlefreya because it is just that awesome and i love it!

Warning: Blood, period blood, period sex, messy orgasms, fingering ( trying to make up for being so harsh)

Word count: 2.8K

my usual warning, you do not have my permission to copy or use my work in anyway, if you do ill haunt you for the rest of your days!!

___________________________________________________________

My abdomen coils and throbs, never letting up with the reminder I’m having my period for the first time in months. Skipping along with the discomfort is the fact that my bags are in the boot, and we have been on this country road for an hour, heading to an unknown-to-me destination.

 I might have been excited if I could feel more than the sadness clouding my mind, sitting heavily and stopping all other thoughts. As I look down at August’s hand on my thigh, his fingers dipping into my skin in a gentle, commanding hold, I reach for happiness, for excitement. I remember wanting this moment, wanting to feel someone strong and dependable put their hand on my thigh. An indication the relationship is real. It is real. I wish I could appreciate it more but the swing of my mood only sways from sad to guilt and back again. I peer back out of the window, trying not to let my emotions show, trying to veil them in a mask of fatigue.

 August stares at me; the feel of his gaze is everything and so much more, but not enough to ebb the hormones firing through me. The road is hilly. I have never seen trees so high they weave above the road, creating an organic canopy, only breached by strobes from the sun. It’s so fucking beautiful, and as we veer left onto a dirty road, a bespoken wood and stone house stands in the distance. We cross from dusty red roads into lush greenery and manicured gardens, and I can’t silence my mother’s voice in my head as she lectures me about sustainable water protocol. 

“What is this place?” I ask, my knees pressed against the passenger door as I gaze through the tinted glass. We are approaching a lavish manner-style homestead. Through the vast glass frontage, a fire dances from within a floor-to-ceiling stone hearth. “Do you own this house?” Following my gaze out the window, as though to check the subject of my inquiry, he says, “Yes, sweet girl. I used to come here when I needed to get away from the Apostles. I haven't for many years now. Do you like it?" I sigh. It reminds me of a house I saw on this renovation show, where the owner was a carpenter, and he made the entire thing out of trees from his property. It took him ten years, but the house was so detailed, so unique. Luxury meets charm. I like it. “Well, yeah. I do. But It doesn’t scream August Walker. It actually looks like it might be comfortable—shock horror.

 “Quickly get the kids into the shelter because the world must be coming to an end." He hums his response to my joke.

 The car pulls into a large garage with stone cladding, the roller doors on automation, opening before us and closing behind. “My world, perhaps—my work cannot end in the city,” he says, unclipping his belt just as his door opens, his personal assistant, Que, on the other side. “And as you so eloquently pointed out, all I am is business. Well, I rarely have anything more important than the business to prioritize." He steps from the car and the door closes on his shadow. It's suddenly quiet. And even a metal sheet separating us fills me with an urgency to get out and into the same air as him. Breathing deeply, I watch him circle around the back and open my door. He leaned across me, enveloping me in that scent that is all him, and unbuckled my belt. “And now you do?” I ask as he straightens outside the car. When I step out, I come within an inch of his formidable wall of muscles. “And now I do.” Staring down at me with undeniable affection and flickers of immense possessiveness, he entwines our fingers. Leading me through the garage, he guides me into the house. Flanking us are two of his henchmen carrying our luggage. I really wish I knew their names. Awe arrows through me when we cross the threshold, stepping into the cavernous space adorned with polished wooden walls, floors, and exposed rafters. It reminds me of a log cabin, only on steroids. It’s wonderful. On his haunches by the flickering fire, Henchman Jeeves places a log within the hearth. The wood below cracks. He jerks to his feet when he sees me, his face solemn, his brows drawn in as his eyes meet mine. “I’m so sorry.” “Miss Meade,” August demands, and I feel his fingers tense around mine. Not a twitch of restraint. Dead still. “No.” I squeeze his fingers between mine. “My name is fine. I can choose what people call me.” August darts his eyes between us while Henchman Jeeves seems to shrink a few feet.

.

 I think I’m taller than him now. August’s gauging gaze levels the situation, the disapproval ripe on his chiseled face. Then he drops his attention to my lower abdomen. His jaw pulses. “No, you can't. But I'll allow it when you're alone.” Unlacing our fingers, he moves towards the kitchen. His signature nod directs my gaze to a golden-haired lady rolling dough on the wooden countertop. “This is Nicci. She will make you anything you wish to eat...” He pauses and turns that tall, powerful physique to face me. “Even cake, little one. Anything you want.” “Fuck.” I half-smile. “If I’d known the babies were keeping cake from me, I would have...” I trail off. The joke burns my tongue. My smile slips. “Too soon.” Glowing eyes the color of the ocean on a bright still day soften on my face, and although they are no less commanding, they’re filled with deep sentiment

. “Humor is how you deflect, but it’s just as revealing as if you were to cry. I see you, sweet girl. Whatever you need to say or feel will not be judged. By anyone... if they wish to keep all their fingers.” My heart grows as his words inflate it with that hopefulness I fear. But I don’t want to take a pin to my ballooned heart today. I think I’ll let it float—full of him—for a while. “Was that you deflecting your affections, Sir? With maiming fingers?” “Such a sweet question. No,” he states, walking towards a wooden door with carvings of a grand Marri tree. “It was a very clear warning for my staff.”

I look at the lady leaning over the kitchen counter for the flour and then to Henchman Jeeves as he stacks wood. They are both going about their business. I’m not at all surprised. I’m sure there is fear circulating this level of compliance and nonchalance; however, there is undeniably also respect. He nods towards the open door, and I wander through, sensing his soft commanding eyes as they track my movements around the master bedroom that is finished in wood to match the rest of the house. Our clothes are hung in a walk-in style wardrobe, our shoes placed like tiny soldiers below them. A small smile tickles my lips when I see my dream catcher hanging from the left side post of the bed. He misses nothing... or was that Eddie's idea? I wondered about the possibilities when I felt a hand on my low back, “ Come, it's late and you should be resting.” I nodded, swallowing my words and the dull ache and the hollow feeling in my womb coming back to the surface. “I can run you a bath if you like?” What is up with this man and his baths? I shook my head no and proceeded to get my night clothes on, August tucked me in and climbed in beside me. Placing kisses on my neck I whispered to him “ “I was going to keep them,” I say, opening my eyes and turning over to find him  already staring at me with a soft smile “I know, sweet girl.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and caressed my cheek with his thumb before bringing it to a stop on my bottom lip “How did you know, Sir? I didn’t even know.” “You knew.” He’s right. I did. As terrified as I was to be a mother, I already loved these little babies so much and no nothing. Just gone. No more butterflies everytime i thought of them.

“Rest little one, i'll be right here when you wake” he wiped away the stray tear that had escaped, pulling me closer into him and was lulled to sleep by the sound of his strong heart beat. 

I curl in, clutching at my lower abdomen as it cramps in an intense droning rhythm. August isn’t behind me on the bed, but my body screams that his proximity is close. And he is watchful. I squint at the corner of the room, where a shadow of a man sits, eerily motionless and stiff. "Are you watching me sleep?" I ask, my voice twisted. He lets out a rough sigh. "I can't not... watch you." 

"August," I say his name and it feels right at this moment, because the tormented heat rushes from him is smoldering—concentrated. He needs something. I don't know what. I doubt he'll let me be the person who comforts him—if there is such a position in his life... but I want to try. I blink at the formidable shadow in the corner. "The doctor said there was—" "I don't need your reassurances, sweet girl. You fell from the bed writhing in pain." 

I force a small smile. "Can't fall off the floor." He continues, unamused. "You managed to crawl halfway across the carpet before I woke to take you into my arms. I—" 

He pauses, and the silence that follows feels thick and ominous. "I sleep too much when you are in my bed. Too comfortable. I should have never let this happen."

"You're not God—" A moan leaves me, and he immediately rises from his seat, moving to the bedside. The mattress dips, rolling my body towards him. August collects me in his arms, cradling me as he sits to rest his spine on the headboard. I snuggle into his large embrace, surrounded by him, enveloped in his long, muscular arms. He opens his legs, and I slip sideways between his solid thighs, my legs a pyramid over him, my back supported by a thick, powerful bicep. My head flops to the side, meeting his chest, relaxing as I feel the sturdy, commanding drum within. The arm I am resting on hooks around my waist, sliding across my quivering abdomen and down to the seam of my underwear. I catch his wrist, and I feel the rumble of his growl. “Little one, that is the second time you have stopped me from touching you where I want. I tolerated the first. I'll take you over my knees this time as soon as you're feeling better." I blink up at him, meeting his endless blue eyes.

 “I have a pad on. It’s covered in blood.” “And you think I somehow forgot such a thing?” I release his hand, and he continues its descent. He grips the thin strap on the side of my knickers, and I shuffle in his lap so he can slide them up over my knees with the pad still stuck to the inner lining. I kick them off quickly, wanting to get the sight away from him, away from me. God... this man.

He settles my backside on the mattress between his thighs, opening my knees wide. I let my legs fall apart, provoking a satisfied groan to leave his lips at my submission. My embarrassment lights a furnace below my cheeks, yet I hide it well, nestling into his chest. His fingers trace my lips, and I’m so sensitive there I begin to mewl. I peer up and watch his heated gaze follow the exploration of his fingers. When he strokes the smooth skin, he says, “Who did this?” I look down at his fingers. “Did what? Shave?” A nervous sound leaves my throat, a chuckle waving into a scoff. “I did it. I do it. I always—” I clear my throat. “I’ve always shaved ever since I went through puberty.” “What color is your hair?” I swallow thickly. “ Light.” “I’d like to see it. Leave it for me, and I’ll shave you from now on, the way I like.” He hums, deep and husky. “You’re just as beautiful here when you’re bleeding as any other time. Do you think your blood makes you less appealing? It is very feminine.” His breath becomes deeper, carrying a groan. I feel his cock like a steel rod under my thigh. “It's hard just thinking about sinking my cock inside you.” His forefinger parts my lips, sliding inside me easily within the slick of blood, while his thumb creates little circles around the bud above. I whimper my enjoyment and flush with the unavoidable awkwardness this act brings.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he says, his voice strained. I recognise that twisted cadence. It’s the same sound he made when he said it hurts being near me and not inside me. It’s arousal. “I’ve had a lot of blood on my hands, but never in such a way. Your orgasm will help with the cramps, sweet girl.” I roll my head on his chest as he worships my inner muscles with thorough, deep thrusts. Massaging the sensitive walls just as he did my body in the bathtub, he adds another finger to better increase the pressure. “That’s my good girl. Your pussy sucks my fingers so beautifully.” I tilt my pelvis to join his motion, and he groans, kissing a trail down my forehead until he meets my eager lips. Cupping the side of his neck, the taut muscles cording beneath my palms, I open my mouth for him, taking his tongue inside me as it mimics the thorough rhythm of his fingers. Our moans and groans spiral together in a combined symphony. Our bodies work together. Mine, lifting to meet his penetration. His, kneading the aching walls, loosening the muscle inside me, ebbing the contracting. I love you. I become breathless in his slow but boundless kiss, in the twisting and scooping of his fingers, in the dull throbbing at my womb. It all heightens the pleasure he is building through me, and I can’t decipher one sensation over the next, but it all feels good. So good. “I want to fuck you, little girl.” His hot breath blankets my face as he groans into our kiss. “But you’re too sore. Your pussy won’t be able to take me after what you have been through.” Not stopping his repetitive motion between

my thighs, he threads his other hand down to release his cock from his pants. “Would my sweet girl like to see me come?” He hisses into our kiss, his mouth becoming clumsy for a moment as he jerks himself off. “Yes. Yes.” Then the sharp pull of desire drags me over the edge. I squeeze his neck. My back suddenly seized and arches with a roll of warmth that continues forever, spreading up to my heart, causing it to gallop within me, all the way to my toes, tensing them into balls. “August!” I scream his name. August. August. August. I take his tongue, his fingers, his everything. I’ll take it all. He growls his own arousal out as he pumps his erection with brutal force, fisting it and drawing upwards until he shoots hot fluid over my legs. Convulsing beside me, his fist creating friction against my thigh, the liquid slapping my skin, he works his cock until he is empty. Still holding his neck, I deepen our kiss as he breathes gruffly into my mouth. I tremble with sensation while his muscles slowly relax, but both our bodies melt together. When he breaks the sultry dance of our lips, he leans his forehead into my hair, and it’s so vulnerable that for a moment, I want to scream, ‘I love you!’ For an endless moment, I want to whisper, ‘I understand I belong to you. You won’t be discarding me. You won’t let me go. You’ll hunt me down. I agree. I agree with it, Sir. I’m yours.'"

He lifts his head, his eyes hooded with ecstasy. Licking my kiss from his lips, he looks down as he pulls his hand from between my legs, his fingers and knuckles covered in pink juices and thick red fluid, and I don’t care. He cares even less. After he has cleaned me up, we lay down in bed together, and I clutch onto him. As my mind rolls, delirious on a cocktail of everything that's him, I murmur softly, “Thank you for saving me.”

[eyeless-jeff666]

Winter Wonderland

MHA Chapter 364 spoiler after the read more!

Shinya is bound to the wheelchair and Tsunagu smashes all his worries about their relationship with gentle love and hot chocolate Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst

The winter was awfully cold this year, and the freezing air made Tsunagu scrunch his nose in discomfort. It was snowing, it had been for days, and it felt like a miracle that it had started the day his husband’s release from the hospital had been approved. He had needed to stay there a bit longer still, but the moment had finally come.

Almost two months after he had risked his life for the young man who should have been saved by Tsunagu himself, but it was Shinya’s quirk that had made it possible. It was his husband who had risked his life just to save a promising soon-to-be hero he didn’t even know that well. Not as well as Tsunagu did at least, after taking him under his wing. Despite all odds, however, the other had survived his risky mission. He had lost his ability to walk, after using up too many of his nerves, and was missing a kidney, but he was alive.

Alive and tired and filled with guilt and fear about their relationship. Tsunagu had needed a long time to assure him that none of this changed his feelings for him; if anything, this selfless act only made his love deeper. It had started way back when they were just students, and lasted through so many of their worries; like Shinya’s transition, his struggles to get hormones and surgeries, the financial struggles they had gone through together, and all the worries Tsunagu had held when opening his agency.

He even remembered vividly how nervous the two of them had been the night before their wedding, but even then there hadn’t been a single trace of doubt that this man was who he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Even if he was bound to a wheelchair now. All that mattered to the denim hero was that he had not lost him. That he would still wake up with him, and kiss him, and hear his laugh.

Gently, he brushed off some snow from Shinya’s hair and took off the hat he had been wearing. He stopped pushing the wheelchair, and crouched down to put it on the other’s head:

“Are you warm enough, my little fiber?”

The smaller man’s eyes looked teary, and it broke the denim hero’s heart. He softly took the other’s hands, squeezing them reassuringly; they were warm, much warmer than his own, and his heart skipped a beat with the joy of still being able to hold them:

“What’s wrong, love?”

“Nothing is wrong, dear. Everything is.. overwhelming. I am so happy. And scared. And grateful that you want to stay with me. I’m just feeling too much.”

He explained, cupping Tsunagu’s hands to gently blow warm breath on them. It was something he had been doing ever since they’d started dating, and one of their favorite moments of winter. It was caring and affectionate and assuring. The taller one smiled and brought Shinya’s knuckles up to his covered lips, in a gentle kissing gesture:

“My mind was flashing with fear of having to attend your funeral. I was fully prepared to keep my promise of still loving you if you were a worm and carrying you around in my chest pocket. Shinya, staying with you will never be compromised by anything. Especially not injuries. I’m your husband. I married you as a promise to always be by your side no matter what. I know you’re scared about so many things right now, and I know I can’t soothe all of those fears, but I want to assure you that my love for you runs much deeper than you might think right now. I’m just so happy I didn’t lose you.”

Tears were now running down his husband’s cheeks, and they must have been cold with the air and snow, so Tsunagu wiped them away, brushing his thumbs over Shinya's cheeks for as long as it took him to stop crying:

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes please.”

Tsunagu pulled him closer and if his words hadn’t been assuring enough, this kiss simply had to be; it was long and emotional and likely the happiest one they had ever shared. Happier than their first one and happier than their wedding kiss because it held so much assurance; for Shinya that he really meant what he said, and for Tsunagu that the other kissed him back and hadn’t given up on the relationship:

“You are the most amazing man I have ever met, you are so beautiful and caring and brave. And I know you’re scared about not being able to continue being a hero, but you will always be the most amazing hero in my heart. What you did, and what you risked, is the most heroic thing anyone could ever do. And I will never stop admiring you.”

And for the first time in weeks, a smile formed on the younger one’s face; a smile that could melt anyone’s heart in seconds:

“I love you. I love you so so incredibly much.”

“I love you too, my thread, more than I could ever say.”

Tsunagu straightened up, and smiled back at the other in awe:

“How about we buy a hot chocolate on the way home, how would you feel about that?”

The cocoa they bought tasted like heaven and it almost made the two of them cry again at the happiness of being able to enjoy it together. It was hot and smooth and had a hint of cinnamon and orange. The stand they had gotten it from had been there for as long as they could remember, and had never failed to make them feel better:

“Do you remember when we used to drink this, when we were Lightningstorm’s sidekicks? Right after I graduated? It was when I just started my transition.”

“I do remember. And when my first sidekick went to another agency and I felt so self-conscious.”

They chuckled, realizing just how many memories this hot chocolate held. It was assuring and like a dream to think about how many more they would form over it. Of course, there would be dreams and plans they would have to change, but none of that mattered. Tsunagu didn’t care if the other would never be a hero again. Or if he would depend on him. He was ready to retire if he needed, to dedicate his days to taking care of his most loved one.

All the tension from the past weeks and months seemed to have disappeared with the sweet, warm drink they drank at their favorite meeting spot; from there, they could see far across the sea, watching some few particularly thick-skinned souls swimming and surfing. It seemed ridiculous to Jeanist, who pulled his coat tighter around himself, but it was a nice and calm view.

Soft pressure on his thigh disrupted his thought and when he looked down, his husband had his head leaned against him, giving him the same look he always gave when wanting affection and cuddles. Tsunagu slipped off the hat and let his fingers run through the younger one's hair, caressing his scalp, weirdly amused by how oily it was:

“Waited for me to wash your hair, love?”

Soft pink tinted Shinya’s cheeks as he nodded slowly; they had offered to wash it at the hospital, but he had refused. It had been a long time since anyone but Tsunagu or himself had even touched it, and it had become much more intimate over the years. The same went for seeing the blonde with messy hair; it was something treasured and something that only really happened between the two of them.

“Are you comfortable- can we take a bath together later? I’m tired and you’re like a denim icicle. A jicicle.”

The laugh that erupted from Tsuangu was sudden and it slightly startled Shinya, who started to laugh as well after the shock wore off:

“It wasn’t that funny!”

“Oh yes it was, my precious cotton heart, I’m glad you can still joke.”

Both of them knew that there would be many things to talk about, on how to proceed and how to live through and cope with everything life had thrown in their way. But those things were nothing that couldn’t be talked about the next day.

They had promised a lifetime to each other after all, and this was nothing anything but death could ever change. And given how narrowly both of them had avoided death’s kiss on more than one occasion, this would not be the case for a long time.

Tsunagu pulled down his scarf and grabbed Shinya’s face for another long but gentle kiss before giving the reply he’d been waiting for:

“I would love nothing more than that.”

[shychick-52]

My boi Jughead and how I discovered I was aspec (long post)

(Reposted from my defunct blog)

So, to start off, I'm cishet. But all my life, I've felt different. Even as a teenager I never had the desire to have a boyfriend, or so much as date anybody. I never even crushed on anybody. I've never kissed anyone in my life. And... yeah, I'm a- yeah, you get the idea. I've never been turned on by anyone or anything in my life.

Well into my adulthood, I stopped thinking I was a late bloomer and that something was seriously fucking wrong with me. I felt like a robot or an alien. I felt like a freak. I always hated myself for it, but at the same time, I could never force myself to fall in love or feel attraction or even try hooking up with anybody (as tempted as I've been, just to feel like a normal human being), let alone get married. I always knew, as abnormal as it was, I was happier single and free. I just never cared about it or wanted it, period. But I still hated myself, and felt like a total abnormal weirdo.

On the other hand, it's not that I fail to appreciate that somebody's good-looking. I can sometimes appreciate somebody's looks, but without having any desire to get to know them, let alone sleep with them. But it's not like I even always notice a person's looks; sometimes it stands out to me, sometimes not. And my eyes or thoughts never gravitate to their ass at all.

And here's the interesting thing, and this is important for later. I actually enjoy scenes in media (even fanfiction) where a couple is dating or snuggling or talking cute to one another- I'm a total sucker for fluff in fiction, I admit! It's sweet, it's adorable, it gives me all the feels! And even though it's never been a priority at all in my life, I admit that if I got to know somebody well enough- very well- maybe I could see myself dating them and experiencing those sweet, special, fuzzy moments too (which is why I identity as demiromantic).

...But for the most part, I draw the line at sex (including foreplay), whether in fiction or my own life. ESPECIALLY pure smut or anything hardcore.

I've always related very strongly to Jughead Jones from the Archie comics. Even as a kid, he was my favorite character. He never cared about romance or dating; in fact, it totally repelled him. He literally ran from girls! Hormone-driven the boy was not, unlike his friends! And... unlike me, he totally didn't question it. He was comfortable in his 'weirdness', he embraced it, he totally accepted himself. I always envied how he was so cool with being so out-of-place in society and not caring what others thought of him. Like me, ol' Juggy was much happier enjoying food or a good nap. I used to wonder if Jughead was gay, except he never wanted to be involved with anybody.

Then in 2015, Archie Comics rebooted their flagship title. And Jughead- who'd been around since the 40s like the rest of the Archie gang, LONG before being ace or aro was even a thing- was officially established as ace in the rebooted comic (but nothing was mentioned about him being aro too/aroace, oddly enough, but it was still strongly implied he is).

That was the very first time I'd heard of the term 'asexual.' I was intrigued, as well as curious. So, I looked it up... and suddenly, EVERYTHING. MADE. SENSE. About Jughead, and more importantly, myself. Around the same time, I also discovered the term 'aromantic', which equally applies to Jughead. Jughead is, and always has been... aroace.

On the aspectrum, I'm demiromantic and sex-repulsed. I'm more tolerant with sex scenes in media- and maybe the idea of sex for me personally- if it's deep and meaningful in a long-time relationship already built on love, trust, and respect. And tbh, I think I'm a little demisexual too (although mostly ace) because of those strong values of mine. I don't ever want to have sex with anybody, but if I did, I would only want it to be with somebody I've established a real bond with and have known/trusted for a long time.

To this day, even after learning that I'm aspec and that I'm NOT alone, I still struggle with accepting myself. It's not nearly as bad as it used to be. But it's still something I go through.

Oh. And here's a perfect example of how they could've totally brought in more ace/aroace representation in Hollywood, but fucked up... on the worst level imaginable. CW's Riverdale, which came out in 2017. You'd think they would've stuck to the decades-long source material with Jughead, right? Especially after he'd been officially established as aroace in recent years, right? WRONG. They put him in a relationship with Betty. And a few other women on the show, but mostly Betty.

FRIGGING WHAT? JUGHEAD'S ALWAYS BEEN A LONE WOLF, HE DOESN'T DO RELATIONSHIPS- THAT'S HIS BIGGEST TRAIT (aside from eating). To break decades worth of canon is just inexcusable, but especially after they FINALLY establish him as aroace and give some much needed representation... I can't fucking even. Just. WHAT. And Archie Comics was actually behind the show, so they REALLY have no excuse. Even Cole Sprouse, Jughead's actor, was pissed.

[asexual-means-no-attraction]

do you have any tips for writing trans characters? I'm an author interested in doing so but I don't have any trans friends I can ask. Aside from the obvious to write them as people and not tokens, what are certain things you think writers should keep in mind? Experience-wise, things to look out for, things that you shouldn't do at all, stuff like that. If you have any tips on how to research further on my own that'd be great too! Thank you!

Random advice for writing trans characters from a trans man that does not speak for the whole community but who cares:

-just go for it. I can't stress this enough. Just write it. Even if it's bad. You can always go back and change it, fix it, rewrite it. But you gotta start first.

-what age is the character? Minors don't generally medically transition beyond possibly hormone blockers. But it does happen depending on the case. I know someone who started stuff in high school.

-you can do a lot with their voice. Once your voice drops you can't change it. There are a lot of voice exercises I've seen for trans women to help raise it. Trans men when they first start hrt will have their voices squeak like teenage boys.

-consider how this affects their relationship with their family. Supportive, unsupportive? Maybe the parents are supportive but the character didn't realize their gender till adulthood, leading the parents to thing they made their child feel unsafe growing up (this happened to me). You can do a lot of stuff with family dynamics beyond just being terrible or amazing. My gf's mom is supportive but asks a lot of personal and inappropriate questions cuz she didn't know any better. Could easy come off bad despite the best intentions.

-location. I live next to an amazing hospital system that has an entire department for LGBT care. It's made medically transitioning super easy and simple. Not everyone is going to have that. Where do they live? What resources do they have access to?

-when did they realize they're trans? Adulthood, childhood? 21? 56? These change a lot about ones personal experiences and their personal journey.

-other health issues? There are a lot of health issues, mental illness, medical conditions, that can make realizing, accepting, getting medical treatment, and getting accepted a lot harder. Many autistic people find it hard to get people to take them serious for example. Someone with a health issue might not be able to bind (cause too much breathing issues), or get onto hrt. Maybe they can't handle specific surgeries.

-what step in their transition are they. Not every trans personal does every single medical transition they can, if they do any at all. I don't have a dick, but I can understand why a trans women would be scared to get rid of hers even if she doesn't want it. Surgery is scary. Needles are scary. I did a gel packet for hrt for my first two years because I didn't like needles. I'm still not over my fear of needles, but I can at least give myself a shot once a week.

-body type. What is their body type. This changes how well they can pass, how the Dr's treat them when they try to medically transition, how other people treat them for being trans, etc. Same thing goes for disability and what not. What other factors are they dealing with outside of being trans?

-how did they come off before and after coming out? I used to come off as a very masculine women. I was seen as a butch lesbian through and through. But then after transitioning I started getting people thinking I was an overly feminine man. I have had people think I was gay and my gf was my beard before. I have not changed my personality at all. I have the same interests, I act the same way, I have not changed at all beyond my outward appearance and being more comfortable in my body. But the way people view me has changed drastically. I went from masculine to feminine (despite going from female to male), curvey to bulky, etc etc. How have people's views of them changed? How does that effect them?

-economic status? It's harder to pay for shit if you don't got money. It's easy for rich parents to hold money over their kids heads to control them as they become adults.

-sexuality? Being trans brings a new experience to dating and especially finding a partner.

-in terms for things to avoid. I know fandom culture will tell you otherwise, but I don't have much for you here. Beyond making sure they actually speak like a normal person. People don't just introduce themselves in class or to coworkers like "hi I'm [name]! I used to be [dead name]. Let's get along!" Ya know? Most people don't tend to bring up they're trans unless it's relevant or they feel safe. There are a lot of ways you can reveal a character is trans that actually feel realistic.

Stuff to research:

-passing techniques for pre-medically transitioning. Binding, tucking, baggy clothes, hair cuts, voice practice, etc etc.

-what kind of care is out there for the characters location and time period. You don't have to be super accurate here. As a reader I won't notice. But it's good to have a feel for what is within the realm of possibility. You aren't going to give a midevil peasant top surgery of the same quality we have in the modern day.

-read articles where trans people talk about how they realized they were trans. How they describe it. It'll help with figuring out how your character might of come to realize things. For example, I cried when I was a child because I wanted to be a boy. But I couldn't explain why. My parents explained I could do anything a boy can while being a girl with the exception of peeing standing up (which got a whole nother tantrum outta me lol). I eventually accepted this and the idea of being male took a back burner. It wasn't important to me. I was so used to the uncomfortableness I felt that I was able to ignore it completely. Until college when I did a drag show as a drag king and felt like myself in a way I never had before. For the most post, I find many trans people had signs growing up that were ignored (whether for good or bad reason. I don't blame my parents at all. I think they made the right call making me feel like I could do anything I wanted to) and then come to actually realize things later on in life. You don't need to show how your character realized things. But them realizing when their 15 vs 22 vs 35 will effect their character. So it'd be good to have some idea of when they realized things.

That's all I can thing of right now. Might add more later. If anyone wants to add more feel free. Hope that helps anon.

[metoidionasty]

Hey buddy. You look the same in both pics, BUT you shouldn't want to look different anyway. It's a good thing you weren't altered too severely, honestly. I'm sorry the pharmaceutical/biomedical industry was able to penetrate your psyche so deeply that you started to believe you needed to change yourself. It really is a tragedy that you couldn't see the perfection in yourself that was there all along (regardless of gender). Blinded and brainwashed, and then physically altered by a system that wants you dead... I'm truly sorry this happened to you and so many others.

Hi so I wasn’t going to answer this. I get asks like this on anon a lot and it’s best to just delete and ignore. But since this is my one year on t I’m going make an acception this once and talk about my transness

First thing I will address is that, yes! My face has not changed much yet. One year on hrt isn’t much time for any real big faces changes. But in terms of other parts of my body I have had major changes, lots of body hair, 2.5 inches of bottom growth, loss of breast tissue, and lots of emotional changes as well.

Next thing I’ll get into is my personal story. Not to be the stereotypical ‘I always knew’. But I did always feel an out of place feeling I struggle to explain to others. This will be an extreme over simplification of my story but here we go. This feeling was always placated by expressing myself as male. When I was in grade school I’d wear boys underwear and clothes only, and would often stuff the crotch with my socks. Entering middle school I’d have days where I would duct tape my chest, go to school and tell everyone ‘I’m a boy today.’ And this was all before I knew what being trans was.

When I was around 13/14 I started to learn about being trans and spent a little time toying with possible ways to explain how I felt. Until I came to realize I was trans. I came out to everyone, switched schools so no one would know my birth name, and just completely socially transitioned. Unfortunately when I was 16/17 I went through very bad trauma and mental health issues, so due to many reasons I don’t feel comfortable getting into I decided to detransition. It was a totally humiliating process and sent me into the deepest depression of my life.

I spent the next 3.5 years trying to make up for lost time learning how adult women should act. I over compensated and over feminized and made myself miserable constantly. I was in the hospital for suicide attempts 2-4 times a year. It was such a deep dark time for me. As time passed and I allowed myself to start getting better and process everything, I realized I am still trans and always was. I ended my relationship I had been in for 2.5 years and moved across the country so I could start my hormones and be the person in my soul I always saw myself as.

And now in this last year I have BLOSSOMED!!! I have found my love for life, God, and myself again. I love my body more than I ever have, every time I see a new change closer to my goal it’s like a total head high. It’s like in finally allowing myself to do this and be myself, I’ve been totally set free.

I know this is super long winded and rambly. I just never plan on explaining any of this in detail on here again so I’m getting it all down. But basically, I’ve known I’ve been trans for almost 10 years, I’ve been to gender specific therapy on top dbt, cbt, and trauma processing. This wasn’t some crazy rush choice I made cos of a discord convo, this was me finally getting to do what everyone tried to stop me from my whole life. There’s no secret pharmaceutical man pushing hormones on me, I was self medicating my t for my first 5 months. There’s no groomer lurking behind me, I’m a grown man who can make his own choices.

[italiceized]

Forewarning: this is going to be a rambling deep dive of half formed thoughts. Proceed with caution.

Relationships as a trans person are weird. I think this is doubly true when you're still mid transition. Your body is changing, hormones are raging, and everything is weird. Puberty part 2 is hitting hard and it is taking no prisoners. Much like puberty 1, this also comes along with a lot of self doubt. "I'm not pretty enough." "Everyone hates me" "I'll never be a real woman. " These are all thoughts I've had before, and still commonly have when I'm depressed.

I think it's a sentiment a lot of trans people will understand, when I say that one of the hardest parts of my transition has been a fear of rejection. The idea that I may be interested in someone, but them not be interested in me. Whether it's because I'm trans, or they just aren't attracted to me, or any number of other reasons. One of the biggest for me personally is that I'm aromantic. There's a world of difference between "want to go on a date" and "oh hey, wanna have sex?" One of those seems, to me, to be a cute harmless thing to ask a friend, while the other risks entirely upending the relationship. There's a sub-rant here about amatonormativity and why it feels that way, but this is going to be long enough, I'll spare you.

Regardless of the reason though, that fear is insidious. And it's the other person's right to reject me, no one has a right to another's affection, but it doesn't change the fact that the rejection would hurt, and that it's easier to just not feel that.

I think that willingness to give up is the fail condition though. The willingness to say "this could hurt me so I'm not going to do it." Fear can be insidious like that, telling you that it's okay to be scared, okay to close yourself off for your own protection. But to close yourself off from that pain also means closing yourself off from the possibilities of joy. At a certain point, I stopped being scared to do things, to flirt with people, to ask people out, and it has been absolutely incredible. There's been pain and heartache, sure, but there's been so, so much more positivity and hope and light. An evening alone not being hurt used to be the best I could hope for, but now I'm surrounded by friends who love me, and whom I love back. There are ups and downs, don't get me wrong. I'm occasionally left in tears by an idle comment someone makes (thanks puberty 2, it's greatly appreciated), or left in a depressive spiral. But, at least to me, it's more than worth it. For every night I spend sobbing, I spend four in the comfort of my home, with people I love. For every depressive spiral I spend weeks on cloud 9, buoyed by the joy I get from those around me.

And I think this same thing applies to romance as well. While I, notably aromantic, don't have much experience with dating. I can tell you the few encounters I have had have been wonderful. And none of them would have happened if I wasn't willing to put myself out there and be hurt by the possible rejection. There's a tendency, in everything, to go for the comfortable solution and just let life pass you by, but what's the point of living then? If not to love and be loved, to be hurt and wounded, but pick yourself back up? If not for life's highs, what is it all for? Those highs don't come from mediocrity, from running from your fear and avoiding anything that may hurt you. They come from pushing past those fears into the great blue yonder of possibility.

And what a yonder it is. There are 8 billion people in the world, each with their own hopes and dreams, each with their own preferences and desires and ideal partners. To think oneself uniquely unlovable out of all of those people is the height of arrogance. To say "no, I'm worse than everyone else, no one can love me" is to say that anyone who does, who sees who you are and loves you for it, to say that those people and their feelings are invalid.

If you've made it this far, thanks! I want you, personally, to know that I, personally, love you, for you. Keep being yourself, no matter what anyone or even you yourself, say.