#im not a woman i just love that phrase so much

[alex-just-vibing]

i need him in a way that is concerning to feminism

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

potato is love, potato is life- local hell woman gives potato to her angelic future wife

Charlie: “I don’t think I should be allowed to interact with women ever again.”

Husk: “Is this about Vaggie giggling over a fucking potato earlier-”

Charlie: “OH IT’S ABOUT THE POTATO ALL RIGHT! WHY THE FUCK DOES THE PHRASE ‘apple of my eye’ EVEN EXIST IN THE SAME UNIVERSE WHERE ‘earth apple’ IS ANOTHER WORD FOR POTATO??? WHY DO PEOPLE CALL THE STUPID SPROUTY THINGS ON POTATOES ‘eyes’????? CREATION IS STUPID! IT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE!!”

Husk: “Did you fucking give her the potato.”

Charlie: (slumping) “I was trying to be romantic-!”

Husk: “Did you call HER your potato.”

Charlie: “THE POTATO OF MY HEART! The tuber of my root sprout!”

Husk: “Oh fuck. Shit, that’s. That’s terrible. You really shouldn’t fucking talk to women anymore.”

Charlie: (sobbing) “I WAS TRYING!!! TO BE SWEET!!!!!”

Angel Dust: “-hey gays m’kay, real fucked up question for ya both but- anyone know why Vag G-string is makin’ soppy doe eyes at an uncooked tater tot?”

Husk: “It’s because she’s almost as much of fucking fail loser as her girlfriend, is why.”

Charlie: (sniffs) “She. You think she likes it…?”

Angel Dust: “Charlie chip, she’s starin’ at the damn thing like it’s her first born child.”

Charlie: “Oh…”

Charlie: “…”

Charlie: “Unholy shit…. I am so GOOD with women-”

Husk: “No. No you’re fucking not. It’s just her.”

Charlie: “Well she’s the only one who counts so that’s perfect!”

Angel Dust: “Oh please don’ tell me you gave her the potato-”

Charlie: “BE RIGHT BACK IM GONNA GO GET HER ANOTHER ONE!!!”

Husk: “NO-!”

[renren-006]

Sunshine Optimist | Daryl Dixion x fem reader

plot: you were sunshine and he was scared of getting burned.

word count: 1305

a/n: heyyyy here is another daryl story hope you enjoy!

Daryl was always jealous of your optimism, the way you constantly thought things would get better or that the world wasn't as screwed up as it seemed. 

Every time the group had a bump in the road, you were there, telling everyone that things would turn around; most of the time, you were right, and when you were wrong, Daryl was the only one to remind you of it. You liked him and never let his words hurt you too much, not when you knew he was just hurting. Daryl didn't let many people in, including you, but when he did, you knew it was because of your optimism that he did. 

You were like sunshine in his eyes, and he was afraid of getting burned. 

You thought he was like the night sky, dark, but with a few shining stars, the dark wasn't that intimidating. 

The prison was the first shining star in Daryl's world. He hated that he believed your optimism then and loved that you were right. He grumbled about it to Carol so often that the woman would just laugh and shoo him away to go figure out his feelings. Daryl knew he liked you, you made his world light up, and he also knew he could never tell you. He did the only thing he knew how to do when he had feelings: push them and you away so he wouldn't have to worry about it. 

That only made things worse for him. 

You knew he pushed you away, you could feel it and see that whatever he was feeling scared the shit out of him. Rick even tried to comfort you about it.

“He's scared,” Rick said as he walked up beside you. You were standing on the gravel road watching him ride off on his motorcycle after another failed conversation with the man. Rick put a hand on your shoulder. “He's…not good with his feelings”

“I know. Just wish he would talk to me.” You told the older man. “I like him but sometimes it hurts too.”

“Sometimes love hurts” 

“That's not helping this situation Rick” you told him sarcastically. 

“I know. I'm sorry. Daryl…he's like a deer, startle him and he’ll run” 

“That's probably the best way to describe him,” you said laughing. Rick smiled, patted your soldier, and walked back to helping the others with walker controle. 

Daryl kept burying his feelings for you, deep, deep down. He felt his skin burn when he was near you, so he never put himself in that situation. That never worked because you would seek him out more than he wanted you to. It took 6 months of being in the Prison before something happened that forced him to feel what he was trying not to. 

You joined Daryl, Michonne, and a few of the new people at the Prison on the run. You rode with Michonne in the pickup truck while the others tagged behind. Daryl rode beside the truck, failing at not watching you in the passenger seat.  You knew he was watching, knew you wanted to be on that motorcycle with him, but knew you needed to let him come to you. 

Once you arrived at the store a few miles from the prison and looked to have not been raided, you all made your way inside. The building was dark and muggy, and it sounded like a few employees didn't make it. You took care of the ones on your side of the store. Daryl closes behind, keeping an eye out. You glanced around before motioning to Daryl to hand you one of the bags to start filling. You got about halfway down the aisle when a Walker jumped you out of nowhere. He didn't bite you, but shit, he scared you. 

“Fuck” you cursed as the walked pushed you back twords the wall, making you knife fummble out of your handsat the supprise. Daryl jumped into action shoving the walker off you and killing it before it could get a taste of skin. Daryl jumped back over to you looking over every inch of skin.

“He didn't get me. He didn't get me. Im fine” you told him, repeating the phrase over and over till he looked you in the eyes. “Daryl, im fine”

“You ain’t comin’ out ‘ere again” he said seriously, “No more runs”

“You can't bench me Daryl” you told him turning from fright to anger. 

“Hell I can” he said back. 

“No. I'm not yours, Daryl. You have made that very clear. You can't come back and act like you care,” you said angrily, letting all those pent-up months of feeling like nothing to Daryl out. He stared at you blankly, realizing how horrible he must have made you feel, always shoving you away.

“I….” Daryl started, wanting to scream at himself for what he had done.

“No. Im done” you told him pushing the man off you, “i'm going over there, stay the hell away Daryl”

Daryl stared blankly at where your body had previously been before you walked off, grabbed your knife, and continued on to the next row, far away from him. For the rest of that run, you stayed away, walking to another aisle whenever he tried to keep close. Michonne picked up on the energy shift between you, too, without having to say anything.

“If she doesn't want you around Daryl, it's because you pushed her so far to do so” she told him.he nodded back, knowing it was his fault and that he caused it. “You have to fix it. No more shoving her away” 

“I know”

“Good. Now get back to work, we leave in thirty” Michone said. 

That night Daryl found you at your guard tower sitting outside watching the stars. He knocked on the window on the corner wall by you. Glancing over you raised it was him, you rolled your eyes.

“I thought i said to stay the hell away Daryl” you said, a bit of venom dripped in your voice. Something Daryl had never heard from you. 

“I know, Im sorry”

“Sorry isn't going to cut it” You told him, “For months you have pushed me away, made me feel worthless to you and I pushed through but you have no right…”

“I know,” he said, cutting you off. “I was afraid of getting’ hurt y/n” 

“Hurt?”

“yer sunshine and I'm…”

“A starry night,” you told him. Holding his gaze. “You're like the stars in the night sky, bright enough to make the darkness not so scary. I always thought you were, but then you changed.”

“I…I couldn't stand yer optimism” he said, “ya made me feel…”

“Made you feel what”

“Like my heart was gonna explode” he said, crouching down by you, “yur makin me feel optimistic about the world” 

“I like having that effect on people” you told him, “I like having an affect on you”

“Ya do” he said, “Ya make me feel happy like I haven't been in a while” 

“Good” you said and pulled him down to you, crashing your lips onto his. You pulled away from him, “Tell me your sorry again”

“I'm sorry Y/N” he said, the husky voice of the redneck sent shivers down your spine. 

“And that you won't ever push me away like you did”

“I promise,” he said, smiling at the way you were making him tell you what you already knew was true. You pulled the man back and kissed him deeply. He pulled you closer to him, picked you up, and carried you into your tower. The sounds and moans that escaped your guard tower that night were heard across the starry sky, which seemed to smile down towards the Prison.

[pubbybutch]

i don’t know if this is a weird request but it’s also my first one.

but i had the idea of abby coming home from a long shift at work, and she finds reader trying to make themself cum?

it just popped into my head and i need it to come to life 🙏🙏

No anon cause I love this trope so much, thank you for trusting me with your first request (ur doing great sweetie!)

(Hope you don’t mind an AU btw <3)

Word Count: 1600 (technically not a drabble ig)

CW: Doctor AU, Abby is a sexy doctor, Strap usage (R! Receiving), AFAB reader, Feminine nicknames used, cowgirl position, tried to keep it race/ethnicity inclusive, mentions of Abby trying to keep you healthy and sleeping well.

No Minors, Men, or general Cunts.

If you see spelling mistakes, no you didn’t. 💚

Abby is tired. And pissed off. But mainly she’s tired, with sore feet and a pounding headache, not helped by the wind howling outside the car causing the rain to beat down heavily on the wind screen. From having to prevent a kid with a broken arm from crying a flood as he called his mom to stopping the blood pouring out of a woman’s intimate parts in the emergency department. It was a very long day.

After running into the house from her now parked car, she pushes the trainers off her feet and takes in the dark hallway, walking back into the kitchen she notices a plate of chilli chicken and rice with a little sticky note attached to the cling film covering the food, ‘gone to bed, eat before you come up <3’ .

She smiled at the note and placed the food in the microwave, yawning as she watched the orange glow and the spinning of the plate in the little metal box. Bed couldn’t come soon enough, but she definitely wasn’t going to face the wrath of a wife scorned by her not eating her delicious food. Made with love, by her love. The blonde was always a bit love struck when sleep deprived.

Inhaling the food and making the executive decision to leave the dishes until the morning, the blonde trudges up the stairs with her feet heavy and her head even heavier. It’s not until she gets to the top of the stairs does she hear the creaking of a bed and hushed whimpers coming from your shared bedroom. She pulls her phone from her pocket and checks the time, ‘00:37’. You should be fast asleep by now.

Peaking her head around the door, not even having to push it open due to you leaving it ajar, she captures what can only be described as a beautiful sight. Abbys pretty little wife lays there. With one of your hands pumping her fingers in and out of your sopping wet cunt with such force your breasts and tummy jiggle lightly with each movement. Your other hand draped over your eyes, shielding you from Abby’s piercing blue gaze. She stands there and watches, leaning against the door frame, enjoying the view and appreciating every little huff and moan leaving your lips.

Finally deciding you’d had enough fun, Abby clears her throat. You jump. Your hand pulls away from your cunt, a shiver running through you as your body yearns to be full again.

“Mrs Anderson,” Abby starts, “you couldn’t wait for me to come home, could you?” Despite her phrasing, it is not a question. It’s an order.

The blonde continues, “Did I not tell you that you were to catch up on sleep, Mrs Anderson?” She tilts her head this time, prompting you to answer. “Yes, Abby…”

“And did you follow the doctor’s orders, pumpkin?”

“No, Abby.” The heat rising up your neck and slithering across your cheeks is a dead give away to Abby as she takes your face in one of her hands, her long, thick thumb rubbing soothing circles onto your cheekbone.

“Since you’re already up, it must mean you’re not tired? Am I right, sweetheart?” The blonde releases you face and takes a step backwards to take all of you in once more.

“Abby I-”

She interrupts you, “Well. Im tired. I’ve had a very long day, sweetheart so if you want to get off, it’s on my terms, we got a deal?” As she speaks she shrugs off her undershirt and undoes the button on her jeans. She watches as you nod and reach out for her, arms outstretched and hands making little grabby motions to try and get her close again. Be grudgingly she steps forward and out of the jeans pooling around her ankles.

Abby is left in her boxer briefs and a white cotton bra as she wraps an arm around your waist, lifting you away from the center of the bed and dropping you on the edge of the mattress. Gripping your chin and pulling your face so that your gaze meets hers, she smirks down at you. “Stay there. Don’t move okay, baby?”

You nod and watch as she goes to the build in wardrobe, her broad shoulders flexing as a hand moves to take the elastic band from the end of her braid, as her hand reaches into the drawer looking for something.

With her hair loose and a harness in her hands Abby slides the leather straps over her hips and into place. Turning back to you, you’re able to see the cock she’s chosen. As she walks forward you come face to phallus with nine inches of dark purple silicone. “You wanna get it wet for me, baby?”

Instead of answering, you slip a hand around the harness and pull her close enough so you can take her length into your mouth. Abby smiles warmly as she watches you only managing to get about half way down the strap, her blue eyes creasing at the edges as you wrap your hand around what you can’t fit in and start rubbing along the shaft. The sight sends a low moan rumbling from Abby’s chest. With a pop, your mouth lets go of the blonde’s cock as she takes a step back and watches as a line of spit connecting the silicone to your bruised lips breaks.

Abby kisses your forehead and sits down on the bed beside you, a blink and you’ll miss it ‘good girl’ falls from her lips as she situates herself against the pillows at the head of the bed. Her finger makes a curling motion, calling you over. Sliding up to sit next her, a hand grips your hips, “Get on top, sweetheart.”

“Abby, I want you to be on top-”

“And I want to go to bed, but since you’re being a needy little brat and not waiting for me to come home before fucking yourself.” She gives your hips a squeeze and continues, “And not listening to me when I tell you that you need more sleep. So now, you’re going to get to cum, but on my grounds. On doctors orders. Okay, baby?”

You nod and move to get straddle Abby’s hips, only to have her reach up and yank you down by the nape of your neck. “I said ‘okay, baby?’ It wasn’t rhetorical.”

“Okay Abby.” She kisses you square on the the lips and let’s you climb up on to her hips, she leans back and watches as you line yourself up with her cock and lower yourself onto the plastic. A tight smirk graces the blonde’s face as she listens intently on the hasty breaths you give out as you become re-accustomed to the stretch that this particular dildo always gives you. As you move your hips up and down, mewls and pants come flooding from your mouth. That knotting tension that never truly left your abdomen from your solo session had returned with what can only be described as a vengeance.

Bouncing up and down on Abby’s cock, you can feel yourself getting closer and closer. Blue eyes scan your whole body, one large rough hand resting on your hip as it helps guide your movements, the other holding one of your tits squeezing the flesh and every so often tugging the hardened nipple as her thumb ran over the sensitive flesh.

Abby’s hips remain surprisingly still, despite your pleas and begging, her stance stays unwavering. This entire session was most definitely on her grounds. Though her body remains relaxed yet unmoving, Abby’s eyes are burning with intensity you can clearly see it, the bubbling want and desperation underneath the stoney exterior.

“Abby-” you huff, exhaustion hits as your desperate moans are met with nothing but raised eyebrows and the occasional ‘yes, princess’.

“I wanna cum, please can I?”

“You’re asking permission, baby? And without being told, oh sweetheart, you can cum anytime you want.”

Without another word your hips slam down against Abby’s, the strap hitting impossibly deep inside as you cum, you rest on top of her. Folding over, you find your head resting underneath your wife’s chin as thick fingers come to the back of your head and her short nails give gentle scratches to your scalp, relaxing you further into the blonde’s firm, broad chest.

Pulling yourself away from Abby and off of her hips you see a creamy ring coating the hilt of the strap as you pull away from your wife. A heat rises to your cheeks once more as Abby sits up properly in the bed and yanks you down into her arms. “Thank you, baby. You did so good.”

Snuggling into her side, you kiss her cheek and strong square jawline as she loosens and slides the harness from her hips.

“Long day, doctor?” Your teasing brings a soft tired smile to Abby’s face as she lets herself yawn. “Like you wouldn’t believe, sweetheart.”

She turns to you, blue eyes staring into yours, deep icy pools that hold such love in them you can’t imagine them ever being cold, “I’m sorry if I was too pushy.”

You laugh and pull the covers up to surround the two of you, “Abigail. We have a safe word for a reason.”

“I know it’s just that-”

You shut her up with a kiss, and once you break it she seems to be content that you had enjoyed the evening, even before she got home. Content and with reassurance, Abby falls asleep and her little wife too.

☘️🦖☘️🦖☘️🦖☘️

Remember Reblogs make the World Go Round

REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN 💚

[sugugasm]

𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄 - toji fushiguro

· ₊ ⊹ SYNOPSIS — toji knows just how to get back at your ex.

「❀」 pairing : toji fushiguro x black fem! reader

「❀」 content warning : minors do not interact ! dad’s bestfriend toji, age gap ꒰ toji is forty and reader is in her late twenties ꒱ missionary, fingering, use of the word bitch - during sex - just once, use of pet names such as ꒰ sweetheart, pretty, slut ꒱

「❀」 word count : 3.6K whoop whoop !!

「❀」 author’s note : hiii !!! here’s me re-uploading this edited version of tastiest revenge - apart of my friendship is magic series - bc tumblr took it down the first time :/ i wanted to put out the gojo fic first but due to school starting, i realized how busy i’ve become :0 please enjoy & interactions n reblogs are always loved <33

you were taken aback when toji answered your call. not only was the time 10:56 PM, but it was also the middle of the week. you ought to been fast asleep in your apartment by now, getting a good night's rest for whatever the world had in store for you tomorrow. but, alas, you were slouching on toji fushiguro's porch, your clothes drenched from the light rain and your makeup smeared from all the tears you'd let fall down your pretty face.

toji stands up from his recliner and looks around before hurriedly opening the door. his heart nearly bursts from your change in vigor. the hesitant, kindhearted disposition you always possessed seems to have been lost just about now; you have a slight pout on your face and stare up at him with imploring eyes.

he swiftly draws you into the warmth of his chest and shut the door behind him without you having to speak another word. his contact causes your body to tremble, and the rumble from his chest doesn't do you credit. all you could hear was him repeatedly mumbling phrases like ‘speak to me’ and ‘i’m right here.’

he allows you a brief minute to collect your thoughts as your nose started to run due to all the sniffling you'd been doing. as he goes into the kitchen, you take a seat on one of the three cushions, letting your head rest against the seat. toji could be seen pouring tea into a lovely glass mug out of the corner of your tearful eyes.

“you wanna’ tell me what brings you here?” he asks, settling into the couch and leaving you both with just enough space. you were completely silent. that bubbly, talkative spirit you usually had was much more comforting compared to the silence he was experiencing right now. you looked completely drained— almost as if someone had completely stripped you from your joy.

“im sorry, toji. i didn’t mean to impose l-like this,” you utter and he chuckles. he gathers the remote in his hand and turns the tv down, figuring you were ready to vent.

“it’s not a bother at all, yn. y’know that.”

you weakly smile, taking a sip of the warm liquid given to you. a deep sigh leaves your lips, “he cheated. like.. a lot.”

before you finished speaking, you could see toji clench his jaw. your former boyfriend, or ‘a fucking bastard,’ as toji used to describe him, was a dumbass. toji wasn't surprised when you discussed this matter, given that the kid was well known for his horrible reputation with the ladies at your uni. since the minute he shook his hand at your birthday all those months ago, he was able to tell that the youngster was a jackass.

the son of a bitch was disrespectful when toji first met him. he spoke of you as if you were merely an item on his arm or a tool at his disposal. he was a real asshole and a heartbreaker; he wasn't your typical old bum of a man, and toji could read him from a mile away.

the kid wore a smug look on his face, only a look of someone without pure intentions would have. he was playing you the entire time and it was easy to see from the eyes of someone who was once a player his damn self.

you see, toji was irritated by the notion that someone could be so foolish as to lose a woman like you. someone who was so understanding, determined to get what she wanted, clever, and humorous in response to everything said to her.

blind. he had to be blind is all.

“a video was posted of him today. he was kissing another girl at some party,” yet another stray tear fell from the brim of your eye and there toji was to wipe it away, “i’m such an idiot.”

no you aren’t.

“nah, he’s a dumbass, and i’ll be damned if i have to sit here and watch you cry over something that isn’t your fault.”

you take a tiny pause in an effort to contain the tears that were on the verge of escaping. of course, none of this was your fault, but for some reason, you felt that you had to bear some responsibility. you made a foolish decision by disobeying all the guidance you had been given, and as a result, you are again stuck with the consequences. given that your father and toji had warned you about the man from the start, you were surprised that he had the strength to even talk to you about it.

“i just- i just should’ve listened to you, that’s all.”

toji sighs, grabbing ahold of your hands and squeezing them gently, “it’s a bad time to say i told you so, so i’m just gonna’ say i’m glad that you’ve come to your senses. he was a dickhead.”

toji noticed you smiling for the first time tonight, so his clumsy joke must have succeeded. genuinely. after your brief burst of laughter, you kept your gaze fixed on toji’s flatscreen without saying a word. the house's four walls reverberated with the faint sound of a local broadcaster's voice as the two of you sat in quiet comfort.

he hopes he won't have to be the one to break the news by asking, “does your father know?” he despised doing things behind his back, but if you wanted him to, he could keep a secret. you admired that you could talk to toji about nearly anything, which was one of his best qualities. he wasn't patronizing or disciplining like your dad.

yes, you adored your old man dearly, but there are instances when hearing someone else's point of view than that of a parent can be quite beneficial. toji. would undoubtedly advise you of right and wrong, but he would never make you feel bad about yourself.

we’re human beings and we all make our fair share of mistakes.

by this time, you were no longer sobbing and you were getting a little bit closer to the man. his side profile is followed by your suckling eyes as you savor his sensitive features. even though you've known toji since you were in your early twenties, you've always thought he was gorgeous, but time has been kind to him. as excellent wine ages, so was he. hell, he probably tasted as delicious as he appeared—

toji starts, somewhat unexpectedly, “y'know, for what it's worth, i think you're an amazing woman." he fumbles with the silver chain dangling from his chest before saying, “you’re pretty, you're smart, and you make a mean pho.”

pretty. he called you pretty.

toji’s solemn face prompts you to hastily cover your smile as he adds, “you didn't deserve to be treated that way- and i hope you know that.” you could feel a hand gently caressing your arm. his calluses brushed against your skin as he held it in a warm, rough manner. the gesture almost made you want to pant like a bitch in the heat, even if you had no idea why or how.

he murmurs, “i don't ever wanna' see you cry like that again,” as his dark irises finally contact yours and you two exchange a soft look. unknown to you at the time, something was causing you to approach a little bit more closely than you had intended. you long for a kiss as your gaze moves from his lips to his eyes and back again.

as you prepare to make what would likely be one of your biggest mistakes yet, you close your eyes. you decrease the distance between you two to just a few inches by placing your lips on his. toji ought to have pushed you away at the first moment, but he was driven to submit. the way your mouth felt against his was just so effortlessly natural.

perhaps the novelty of being alone or the warmth of his body against yours is responsible for you feeling this way right now, but all you want is to continue feeling him like this forever.

toji grabs the nape of your neck while you moan into the kiss, luring you in. you take the initiative to straddle his lap as you start to feel a pool between your thighs, your covered pussy pressing on his crotch as you exchanged saliva.

to your surprise, toji pulls away when you ask for more by licking his bottom lip. even before returning to reality, you managed to feel the remorse beginning to rise in your stomach.

“m’ sorry. i don’t- i don’t know what i was thinking,” you mumble, quickly climbing off of his lap and back into your previous position. “i’m sorry. fuck- i’m sorry. i shouldn’t- we shouldn’t-“ you go on, but all that came out of your apology was a weak, anxious whine. toji simply sits there, likely attempting to process what just happened.

you were scared, but you were also humiliated. toji was not only your father's closest friend, but also his business partner. this could endanger his friendships, family, and profession.

you can't bring yourself to say anything else. you start to gather your things and get ready to go to the door, but just as you stand up, a hand delicately grabs hold of your wrist.

“you want me?”

yes.

“toji- i didn’t mean to-“

“yes or no?”

as you swallow, your chest rises and falls from the kiss's delirium. toji manspreads while keeping his hands on his lap and waiting for your response, tapping his foot on floor. he did have an issue with staring. his eyes gave off the impression that they would cut straight through you.

you say, "y-yes," but it sounds more like a moan. when toji hears this, he gets up from his chair and approaches you slowly. his hands were in the pockets of his gray sweats, and he had a smirk on his face. he continues moving until he is directly in front of you, his shirt showing his hardened nipples.

“say it with your chest, yn. did you not just kiss me? or was i imagining things?”

his taunting tone of voice not only annoyed you, but it turned you on too. he tilts his head to the side and looks you up and down, eyes following your curves, “toji, i want you.”

that was all he needed until it was his turn to attack your mouth with pecks. pecks turned into drawn out kisses and those eventually escalated to biting and sucking on one another’s lips. your noses chafed together as toji groans into your mouth. while your tongues danced to the rhythm of desire, toji’s hand came between your pants and the waistband of your pink panties. he shoves his palm inside the lousy fabric to cup your cunt in his hand.

he flicks his middle finger at your folds as you whimper, "want more, please." he can feel your lust on the tip of his knuckle. “i need you,” your nails skim the happy trail under his shirt, causing toji to grunt. the poor guy had no idea how much power you had over him.

“are you gonna’ regret it?” you ask, and yes, it was blunt of you, but you wondered if he was truly aware of the consequences of this action. you had to think of it from his perspective too.

toji was currently obtaining a happy life. he lived a peaceful existence with just him and his son and had a profession that was more than well compensated, but you? you were a grown woman—twenty eight, to be precise—and although you may have acted impulsively, it may have been just what you wanted. but want eventually turns to greed, and you’d hate to do damage to his conscious over your behavior.

“why would i regret you?”

you wanted to spend the evening lusting over his wonderful words— hearing him tell you the sweetest things, but no matter how sincere and charming his question was, your thoughts were elsewhere.

toji and you each had the ability to choose your own paths. everything you've done up to this point has been deemed inappropriate, and even if he were to stuff you full of his cock, it wouldn't matter. this was already out of line as is.

you make the decision to take matters into your own hands and carry on the passionate makeout session by encircling his neck with your arms. you can feel toji's hands pinching your ass cheeks as he begins to cup them to enfold you in his arms. he sits down on the sofa with you still in his grasp, allowing you to straddle his lap as before.

the hard cock sitting pretty in his sweats did nothing but rub up against you. as much as you wanted to take it slow, you couldn’t suppress the urge to let him have his way with you.

“‘ima fuck you so good, princess. so much better than he ever has,” he utters. you lift your hips up to give him room to finally take his aching cock out of his sweats. while doing so, he doesn’t dare take his eyes off of you.

"look at what you do to me, love," to put it mildly, you were in wonder as he grabbed hold of your chin and lowered your head between you both. first the middle, then the base was displayed. the thin pubic hairs that were still attached to his skin were somewhat cut, lying flat against his shaft as the tip of him flashed a brilliant pink.

as his cock stood up, toji flexed his lower abdomen to move it a little. each time he did this, his cock tapped against your belly, creating a pat.

“big huh? it’ll fit, don’t worry,” he ends his sentence with a wink and grasps on to your ass cheeks again, this time, parting them slowly. as you lift up, his cock aligns with your hole, leaking and eager for some attention.

“please be careful. it’s been a while,” you mumble. you turn to look away but he only comforts you, “i will. i promise.”

as toji entered you, your pussy revealed how horny you truly were. your sopping cunt slobbered around him inch by inch, little by little. your juices had covered his cock and made it easier for your walls to expand, adjusting to his size.

the burn causes your mouth to hiss. feeling him wriggle his way in like this made you feel like a virgin all over again. he had the kind of dick you had to mentally prepare yourself for; the kind that, after only two or more minutes, would have you crying and trembling in his hands.

“focus, yn. just focus on us, for right now.” he didn’t have to tell you twice. how could you not focus on just this? toji had your head spinning and your insides bubbling like never before. it’d be hard to think of anything or anyone else other than him, “you’re so deep- shit!” mushing your ass in his hands, he lifts you up and down his cock, making you feel each and every bit of him. toji bites back a moan when you start to become more comfortable— hips moving with his and your ass melting in his palms.

arms incoherently wrap around toji’s neck as he digs deep, moaning into your ear, “you don’t understand how good you feel. can i go faster? wanna’ make you cum all over my lap like the good girl i know you are.” you practically scream yes and immediately after, you hear a clapping sound.

your ass slamming against toji’s thighs was the cause of the ruckus, you realize as you turn to face the source of the noise. as you watch toji’s cock slip in and out of your pussy, he raises his head to stare at the side of your face, getting excited at how hard you clenched down in him as you watched him fuck you vigorously.

“look at how good you’re doing. takin’ that dick like it’s yours. you look so pretty like this.”

his encouraging words appeared to have given you self-assurance. using both of your forces to fill yourself, you start to slam down on him. you felt as though you were handling a lot at once, but you hardly cared enough to flee. god, did it feel wonderful to be taking dick like a pro.

“ooo- it's stretching me, toji! feels so fuckin’ good. i love it so much.” one thing toji picked up from this was how much of a screamer you were. every thrust ended with another high-pitched moan grumbling from your chest.

“you’re a loud lil’ thing, aren’t you? hope the neighbors don’t mind too much, but they’ll understand, right? i’m fuckin’ you so well they’ll have no choice but to understand.”

it was so easy for him to utter such derogatory phrases knowing the conditions his life would be in after— but he felt like he was compelled to. he loved the sensation of listening to your pussy becoming wetter with each passing stroke. incredibly responsive— his favorite.

his thoughts began to flow as a result of your hands grabbing at his shoulders. you were so desperate that you were delighted to accept whatever he was putting down, “i can’t believe mr. ln’s daughter is such a dirty little bitch. how do you think he’d feel knowin’ i’m ruining you like this, hm?”

that was when you came. something about the secrecy just made you all the more ablazed. although this might’ve been just a temporary feeling, you clamored for more— hollering his name and the curses that trailed behind it.

“m’ cumming! m’ cumming- fuck me, toji!”

he laughs, “how good is it, slut? tell me, how’s it feel?”

you could barely produce a single sound. you could only hold your mouth ajar and let out broken whines. your body was drowning in a sheen coat of sweat and your pussy was a bit sore, but you wanted to cum again.

“it feels a-amazingh,” you babble, unable to even utter the pronunciation of your words as he continues to poke at your g-spot. he was fucking you through it, talking you through it, and pulling you right into his grasp to swallow your whines with his mouth.

after he wrung out the last of your juices, he quickly lifts you up and places you on your back. he could now see just how pretty your pussy truly was. two plumped folds sitting on either side of a puffy clit that was in need of some sucking and a cute hole that ached for good dick.

a dream. a dream indeed.

toji wasted no time slipping it in, feeling your walls comfort his cock like a warm hug. every stroke was tender, but he was so slutty. the chain dangling from his neck beamed in your face and out of instinct, you tug on it a little to pull him down. taking a second to indulge in his features. he was so fucking sexy, especially like this— jet black hair sticking to his forehead, muscle tee drenched in sweat, and his small, hidden whines slipping in every now and then. you couldn’t believe you hadn’t done this sooner.

“i-i love this. love your dick so much- makes m-me feel so happy, toji.” now it was your turn to make your words dig deep, bringing him to the checkpoint with just a few praises.

“don’t say shit like that- fuck.”

you bring your hands to his face to cup his cheeks. you gently press your forehead against his and continue whispering sweet nothings against his lips.

“i can’t believe you’re fucking me like this— like you’ve wanted me for so long. you must love this pussy, huh? love when i take you like this?”

you take note of his sudden shudder, his strokes slowly becoming harder as his breath hitches near your ear, “yn, you better fuckin’ stop.”

“i can’t help it, toji. you just fuck me so much better,” you gasp and reached your arms around his neck, burying your head in his neck. you clench around him, and toji nearly loses it. the knot was finally beginning to unravel, his stomach was fluttering, and he was a bit tired, but he was so close— and you were too, again.

“where do you want me, sweet girl? i’m gonna’ to cum,” he asks, and you answer with a stream of yeses and ‘inside inside’. on command, you feel the wave of toji’s cum filling you full. your pussy wet him up with yet another orgasm and you practically collapse.

toji continues to fuck you through your climax, as well as his own. he was being nothing but dirty, yet a hint of weet. whispering things like ‘good girl’ and ‘i’m so proud of you’ over and over. your head was empty and so was your energy scale. you wanted nothing more than a nice soak in a warm bath to attend to your sore figure.

toji pulls out of you, leaving a airy noise being him when he does. his dick was coated in white, and he was still hard as you were wet, but you were both far too exhausted to give it another go.

he sees some of his cum dripping from your pussy and scoops it onto his index finger. lifting that same hand to your mouth, your lips immediately part to taste the mess the two of you made, “revenge tastes sweet doesn’t it?” he asks as you suck on his fingers until completely clean, letting out a moan while doing so.

as he stands to his full height, he stares down at your limp limbs and shakes his head in disbelief, “i didn’t kill ya’ did i?” he breathlessly laughs. you weakly smile and flip him off as he heads down the hall.

eventually toji returns, watching quietly as your lashes kiss your cheeks with exhaustion. still under a trance, he takes a towel he’d gotten from the bathroom to smooth your back and thighs, making sure to get between them as well. as he finishes, you could feel a delicate kiss being planted behind your ear.

his act as a caretaker drove you into a deep sleep, and he was left to reflect on what took place night. he might be jobless, and friendless in morning, but for right now, he’d rather fall asleep to the sound of your breaths as you lay your head on his chest— dreaming of the life you deserve.

©️ SATORUBI 2023 please do not copy, repost as your own, or translate any of my work without my knowledge <33

[thyfleshc0nsumed]

definitely ignore this if it doesnt interest you as a question but i'm wondering, you call yourself a butch , does that mean that you feel attraction only towards hard-line women? i'm interested because i've long felt a kinship with the butch identity and the promise that it makes to the individual and the community, but i'm not sure if i'd be considered a lesbian, per se. i don't see gender as a factor to be considered in my sexuality at all. for context im 19 and questioning my gender and sexuality after coming out of a 6 year relationship (11 months ago now, haven't dated since.) and i've been trying to get different peoples perspectives.

-modestmasc

Hi, thanks for the question.

Others may disagree but to me, being butch is an adjective first and an identity second. Frankly, I didn't choose to be butch just like I didn't choose to be CAMAB. I get to choose to embrace it, I get to choose to find it a meaningful experience, I get to choose to call myself butch, and I get to choose to love my experience being butch, but I don't get to choose to be or to not be whatever it is that "butch" is.

So, are you butch?

There's a phrase ive heard a couple hundred times over the last two years: "you're a member when you say you are." I like this phrase a lot. If you say you are, I don't get to doubt you. If you don't say so, I don't get to doubt you on that either.

So, are you butch?

We have such a beautiful variety of experiences, and such a wide variety of ways we talk about them. Many butch people relate butchness to "lesbian masculinity." Doesn't land for me, mostly on account of the 'masculinity' bit. To me, being butch is its own thing. I don't consider myself masculine in almost any way, I'm just butch, whatever that is. It's not so much that I think those who describe it like that are "wrong," it's just not been my experience.

The word 'lesbian' in there doesn't function to say "women who are only attracted to women, instead, it just means "women who are attracted to women." Even so, I personally would disagree with the premise that butchness is exclusive to gay people (I say gay as an umbrella term here), I mean I've met some butch ass heterosexual women.

Certainly as gay people, our experience of butchness is going to be different than that of a heterosexual, but like that's true for every facet of identity that can be paired with butchness. My experience as a young fat white bisexual TS butch woman is gonna be different than a middle aged able bodied Black person who's butch, and their experience is gonna be different than an elderly Puerto Rican butch lesbian. But no matter what, we're still all butch.

So, are you butch?

I consider myself bisexual. No fucking doubt I love men. Doesnt stop me from being butch.

So, are you butch?

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

black friday - m. murdock

a/n: an old work i finished because i decided y'all are owed something cute and fluffy. shoutout to all my girlies who were in codependent relationships for so long that they needed to figure out who they were again after ! as always, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! warnings: lots of fluff, lots of kissing, lots of talks about a bad ex, reader is rather shy at first, cursing probably but it's late and i'm probably forgetting so much im so sorry also a lot of suggestive behavior because they're in love word count: 4.5k summary: you have a list of things to do within a year of living in new york. matt helps you check everything off- oh, and you fall in love with him, too. it's not on the list, but you do it anyways. pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader now playing: black friday - tom odell "i wanna go party/i wanna have fun/wanna be happy/could you show me how it's done?/ you look so pretty/pretty like the sun"

For a long time, you thought you’d never get over your ex.

For a long time, you believed that you were it for each other. You’d go the whole nine yards—Kids, a quaint house in your hometown, Sunday dinners.

And for a long time after he broke up with you, you thought you’d never let yourself love again. How could you? How would you allow yourself to be set up for failure, after letting someone know every part of you?

You had been dating him since high school and had been living with him in your first apartment when he broke it off.

Sometimes, it was amazing, and you were never happier. But most days, it had been full of anger and talking him off the ledge all the time. It was makeup sex after arguments you couldn’t remember now.

So, when he did break up with you, you decided to use it as an excuse to run far, far away from your small town. And you found yourself in Hell’s Kitchen.

You land a job at a small law firm, and at first, you just work as a meek little office assistant.

Nelson, Murdock & Page grew by the day, and for a while, you felt out of place. It wasn’t that you were abused or worked to the bone, you just struggled to make friends, and you weren’t very social while getting over your ex anyways.

So, for about two months, you did your job quietly, laughing quietly at the bickering of your bosses, thanking Karen Page for her advice, enjoying coffee with Foggy Nelson, and of course…

Never muttering a word to Matt Murdock. He was just too intimidating. Besides, you still felt like your ex’s eyes were watching your every move, even thousands of miles away, even now.

Then one night, Foggy couldn’t handle it anymore. So, he approached you quietly at the end of a long workday, with a simple phrase.

“This week’s been crazy, huh? Hey, a few of us are going to the bar tonight, did you want to come?”

What were you supposed to say? ‘No, my ex who I don’t talk to wouldn’t like that?’

Please.

“Oh, Uhm.. I don’t know, who else is going?”

“It’ll be me, my wife, Marci, Karen..” He said.

“Sure, I’ll come.” You smiled, before you could stop yourself.

“Awesome! I’ll send you the address! I’m so glad you’re tagging along!” He grins. You’re thrilled too.

“Me too, it’ll be fun.” He begins to walk away but then he turns back around with a snap of his fingers.

“Oh! And Matt is going!”

Why wouldn’t he tell you that in the first place? Why was your face burning? Why was your heart racing?

“Oh, Great.” You told him, now suddenly conscious of everything about that night.

• • •

At the bar, you wound up ordering a drink before you went over to your friends—Well, Coworkers, you wouldn’t call them friends yet, thanking the woman behind the bar.

Then, you made your way over to them where Foggy was playing his wife in Pool—and losing horribly. So, you sit with Karen and Matt, where there is conveniently one seat available, right between the two.

Karen excitedly said your name as you approach adding a, “I can’t believe you came!” Which, ouch, but, fair.

“Well, Foggy was right, this week’s been awful, so I wanted to relax.” You smiled, sitting with them.

“I’m glad,” she said, before asking, “So, why’d you move to New York?” She knew you weren’t from here, so you figured the question would come up eventually.

“Just needed a change of pace from a small town, you know?”

“I do,” she nodded, “Do you like it here?”

Did you like being alone all the time, feeling like you’re always doing something wrong? Like you should run back to your hometown and beg your ex to marry you?

“Yeah, I love it. It’s so different in a way I wasn’t really prepared for, but it’s great.” You lied.

Matt’s blind. Why did it feel like he has this burning gaze into your skin?

“Did you go to college in your hometown, too?”

“Yeah,” You smile. You loved College. You were an early education major and had even gotten your masters in your small community college. You loved teaching, and if you hadn’t moved, you’d have stayed at the school that hired you after student teaching there. But, when you got to the city, you were unable to find consistent work because the demand for teachers was so high.

So here you were, working as an office assistant for a small law firm.

Karen glanced down to her glass and frowned.

“I’m going to grab another drink, do either of you want anything?”

“I’m good, Karen.”

“No, thank you.”

Silence. Sickening silence.

Then, he spoke.

“Do you know how upset I am that you got your drink already?”

What?

You furrowed your brows, confused.

“I’m sorry?”

“I wanted to buy you a drink, but you beat me to it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” You repeated, a light blush on your face.

“Well, I figured it might be nice to wipe the slate clean, considering you haven’t spoken more than ten words to me since you started working with us.”

That was true. There’s just something that feels so wrong about it, even though you worked with him,

“I’m sorry,” you said again, and he just laughed.

“You say that a lot.”

“I’m sor—” You caught yourself, clearing your throat. “Why do you say that?”

“Well, you speak to everyone, just not me. So, I listen and I’m pretty sure you apologize more than anything else.”

Your face was beet red.

“Okay, Okay, I get it. I don’t talk a lot, especially not to you. It’s something I’m working on, I have a whole list of things I’m working on.”

That’s true. You had an actual list of goals you have before your first year in New York is up.

“A list?”

“A list.”

“May I?” He asked, and you sighed, pulling out your phone, your list nestled deep into your notes app.

“Apologize less and talk to you is at the top.” You told him. “Then it’s get a job I love,”

“Ouch.”

“Sorry, Boss.” You took a sip of your drink, “Move into a nicer apartment, and uh..” You sighed softly. “Get over my ex.”

He tilts his head.

“Your ex?”

“The reason I moved here. He broke up with me about six months ago, but we were together for so long it feels like an impossible task.”

Matt knows the feeling.

“It’s an easy enough list. We can help you.” He says, “When did you move to New York?”

“May 1st.”

“Okay, then by May of next year, you should have everything accomplished.”

“We?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna help you.”

“Oh, so now it’s you and not all of you?”

Now it’s his turn to blush.

“You’re rather talkative now.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I like it.”

• • •

Talking to Matt is easy, you discover quickly.

It’s the apologizing that gets you.

You’re staying late at the office about a month later, while Hell’s Kitchen is amid a blistering heat wave.

You feel like you might die. You’re editing a closing argument Foggy wants to practice when Matt calls your name gently.

“Can I see you in my office for a second?” He asks. You follow him into his office, not really thinking much of it.

“What’s up?” You ask, sitting in the spare chair in his office as he closes the door behind him, going to the seat at his desk.

“Well, remember that list we talked about?”

“Yeah?”

“I haven’t heard much from you this week.”

That’s true, it’s just been sort of a hectic time with cases piling up. You can only do so much work AND talk to your favorite coworker. Yes, Matt had quickly become your favorite person at the office, even after just a month of really trying to open up to him.

He learned about your ex, your holiday traditions and that you hate peppermint.

You learned about his parents, his favorite dessert, and that he dresses up every night to go fight the criminals of New York.

Okay, you technically weren’t supposed to learn that, but you had stopped by his apartment early to drop off a file you were working on, and he had just crawled home and was still in his suit when he answered the door, forgetting completely that you didn’t know.

So now You knew how he was able to tell that you lied to Karen that night at the bar.

“I’m—” You start to apologize, but then you stop yourself. “I’m not sorry, I’ve been busy and so have you, but I do miss talking to you, though I am not sorry.” You say, and he grins.

“That’s my girl.”

Huh.

Your stomach swirls and you beam at the praise.

Wait, what?

You brush it off, before asking,

“Does Daredevil still come out to play even though it’s a hundred degrees out?”

“Will you have your window open with a few bottles of water open for me?”

“Always.”

“Then yes.”

Talking to Matt is rather easy. You have a feeling that soon the apologizing will follow.

• • •

October is the month of figuring out what you want to do with your life.

Sure, you love working in the office, but you are going crazy. You’re under stimulated and the hours are consistently long.

So, you try a lot of things.

You bake, you cook, you take exams, you work tirelessly to try and figure out where you want to work and where you’ll be happiest.

You try doing hair but find yourself uninspired.

You think you might like being a nursing assistant but turns out, you don’t like blood.

But part of you knows your heart isn’t in it, for two reasons.  

For one, you want to teach. You want to be teaching young kids’ addition and their spelling and stars. You desperately want to be a great influence in their lives.

And the second thing is..

You don’t want to leave your coworkers.

You love spending time with Karen and Foggy. For a long time, you didn’t have friends outside of your relationship, and they are the best friends you’ve ever had.

Foggy spends long coffee breaks cracking jokes with you and asking for your sandwich order, telling you that you have to stop by his brother’s deli for one of his signature subs. Then he tells you this long-winded story about how his mother wanted him to be a butcher, not a lawyer.

Karen is your favorite girl. She’s not only drop dead gorgeous and ridiculously smart, but she is also kind like no one you have ever met. She texts you when you forget to let her know you’ve gotten home safe, there is always a coffee on your desk when you get there and for your birthday, flowers are on your desk, scribbled with a cute note in her handwriting.

And then, there’s Matt.

He’s your best friend and knows you better than anyone. He loves having you right in the office where he can hear your heartbeat and smell your vanilla coconut perfume. He tells you about his dad and you tell him about your folks.

He knows your Chinese and Thai food orders like the back of his hand, always ordering you some when he gets his. You describe the movies you’re watching in detail, and he hangs on to every word. There is no one who sees you more than him, and he’s quite literally blind. When you tell him about your dream to go back into teaching, he encourages it.

“When I was a kid, I’d have benefited so much from someone like you.”

He asks you to do his makeup for his Halloween costume, no matter how badly it irritates his skin. He likes the idea of your hands so close to his face.

But you’re both critically aware of how, not only is the market flooded, but you’re dreading the day you leave your little office job.

So many people have asked if the two of you are dating. And you both always laugh, because.. because you just love each other in a way that you can’t describe. But no, you’ve never thought about dating Matt Murdock.

Until this one day.

It’s like any other day, really. You have your friends cramped in your tiny apartment and you’re just waiting for Matt’s arrival before you eat dinner for the night.

Karen, Foggy and Marci sit at your little table as you finish cooking, and Marci just glances over to you.

“You need to move to a better apartment.”

“I know, I know,” you laugh, “But she’s so cozy! I love it here!” It was, and is, all you could afford, but you grew to love it.

“Yeah, and I love having leg room.” Foggy chimes.

“You know what, Nelson? You could just, pay me more so I could move somewhere nicer?”

“Touche.” There’s a knock on the door, so you grin and head over there, opening the door for Matt.

And you need to take a second.

He’s holding your favorite bottle of wine, and he’s in these nice dark jeans and a gray sweater under his peacoat.

This thought strikes you.

This thing you thought you’d never feel again after your ex.

Matt Murdock is hot, and you have got to have him.

This is it. The thing you can’t deny any longer. You have a massive crush on the devil that disguises himself as your favorite person. To you, he is an angel.

“Hey,” you say breathily, as if you have it out for yourself. Surely he’ll know. “You didn’t have to bring wine.” You told him, a soft smile on your face.

He steps inside as you take the wine, leaning in to kiss your cheek gently, something he has found himself doing every time he enters your apartment. It’s your routine.  He loves this aspect of your dynamic because he has known that he’s wanted you for months. You’ve just been so caught up in everything that you didn’t see it.

“It’s no trouble, thank you for having us,” he says gently.

So this is it.

You just can’t deny it.

You have a massive crush on Matt Murdock, and there isn’t a thing you could do about it. Except maybe kiss him. But for that night, you just kind of relax and pretend you’re already dating him. That’s something you haven’t done in a long time.

You’re beginning to feel like yourself again.

• • •

Nelson Family Christmas celebrations are something of legend for you. For months you’ve heard about it, and you’re on your way to the deli with a handful of presents and two trays of cookies.

You’ve decided that just once, you want a holiday away from your family. Truth be told, you really don’t want to spend your holiday without your best friends.

You have on this stunning outfit—A red sweater, a black skirt and these warm black stockings. Boots to die for.

You know Matt can’t see your outfit, but that doesn’t stop you from wanting to dress up for him. It’s weird. This crush thing has been getting out of control.

You’re greeted at the door of the Deli with a crowd full of blonde-haired New York Irish-Italians, and they’re all lovely. You put your presents down and place your cookies on the dessert table. And you love Foggy’s family. They ask you questions constantly, and Foggy’s sister-in-law talks to you for a while about her career in the local high school system.

It’s a joy to meet so many people so full of love.

So, you go over to Foggy as he’s yapping and say gently, “Hey, where’s Matt?”

He grins.

“Why do you want to go kiss him under the mistletoe?” He teases. Your face goes red.

“Shut up! Where is he, Franklin?” You glare and he laughs, patting your arm.

“Upstairs in the hallway.” He says, and as you walk away he calls, “Go get ‘em, Tiger!” You glare and grab a cookie on your way up.

And you find him, standing in a quiet corner of the hallway. You go to open your mouth and he turns to you.

“Merry Christmas,” he leans forward and kisses your cheek.

“Merry Christmas, Matty.” You hum. “Guess what type of cookie I have.”

He sniffs the air and shakes his head. “Give me a taste and I’ll guess.” You hand him the cookie and he put it in his mouth halfway, raising his eyebrows to you.

“What?”

He gestures to the cookie in his mouth, and you laugh, realizing that he wants you to bite the other end, ala Lady and the Tramp. So you lean forward and take a bite, and he eats the rest, inches separating your face as you enjoy your treat.

People chatter down the hallway and Christmas music plays from somewhere. There are so many different foods and people, and all Matt can focus on is the vanilla coconut scent of your perfume. When you’re both finished eating your cookie, his hands find your waist.

“Matt, what are you—”

You don’t get the chance to finish because suddenly he is kissing you in the dark hallway of your friend’s family Christmas party. The kiss is wonderful. He tastes of the cookie you two shared. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced.

You need more kissing practice because it’s been so long. But you get the feeling that Matt won’t mind helping you out if this is another thing you want to add to your list.

When he pulls away, he’s a bit breathless but he says one thing to you.

“Chocolate chip peanut butter.”

“What?”

“That’s my guess for the cookie type.”

“Wanna kiss me again to confirm?” He grins and his hands travel down, just slightly to feel the materials of your skirt.

“That’s my girl.”

• • •

The next two months fly by in a whirl of kissing Matt, trying to find a teaching job and enjoying your first real winter in New York.

By the time March rolls around, the clock is ticking for you to be able to find a job in this school year. And then, Foggy and Matt get you the best gift ever.

“Mrs. Future Murdock,” You send Foggy a glare.

“Watch it.”

“Okay, listen—You remember that rich guy that was wrongfully accused of tax evasion?”

“Yeah, why?” You’re cleaning up your office space for the weekend, excited to go to Josie’s, have a few drinks and unwind with your very handsome boyfriend.

“Well, he’s a super intendent for a large school district in Hell’s Kitchen.” Your head snaps up to the two.

“What does that mean for me?” You raise an eyebrow.

“There’s an older teacher there who needed to have surgery and we thought, hey, we know a teacher who could sub in.”

“…Who?”

“You.” Matt says, and you grin. “Your interview is Monday.”

You gasp and hug Foggy quickly, before making your way over to Matt.

“You are the absolute best.” You kiss him quickly and his hands, as they often do, find themselves on your hips. “Thank you.”

What a lovely lovely man.

“Don’t thank us yet, you still need to get the job.” Right.

Your night at Josie’s is lovely but you spend the rest of your weekend prepping for the interview on Monday. It goes well, but something in you is telling you to stay anxious. Why? You have no idea.

It takes two weeks for them to get back to you. But you walk into the office of Nelson, Murdock & Page with a big grin. You walk right into Matt’s office, who glances up to you when you walk in, your heart racing.

“Hey, Sweetheart, I—” He cuts himself off when you walk right up to his desk and pull his chair out before finding yourself on Matt’s lap.  Your arms wrap around his neck and his arms find your waist. Before he can say much else, you kiss him quickly, and he grins into the kiss. Eventually, when you do pull away, Matt asks, “Everything okay?”

“Matty, consider this to be my two weeks’ notice.”

He gasps happily.

“Oh my god! How awful it is that you’re leaving us!” He grins, kissing you quickly. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you for getting me the interview.” You tell him, “You know if I do well, the teacher might let me coteach with her next year.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Our list is almost done, baby.”

“Your list, not ours.”

“Yeah but you’ve been helping so much.”

“You’re easy to help.”

“You’re easy to love.”

He blushes and decides to kiss his girl again.

• • •

 So, in April, a month before your year is up, you find yourself needing a new apartment. The rent is getting crazy, and it’s nowhere near the school you’re working in. Especially considering that the teacher you’re subbing for decided she wanted to retire so you’d be taking over for her full time come Fall.

Plus, your apartment is small and cramped, especially with Matt’s stuff slowly invading your place. You discuss this with him one night. It’s late and he’s covered in cuts from his Daredeviling.

“I hate apartment hunting.” You whine, and he hums, kissing your head gently. “Nowhere is good enough. Too far from the school, too far from you, too expensive.” You complain.

“Why don’t you move in here?”

Huh. Why hadn’t you thought of that? Was it too quick to be moving in with him at this point? Maybe, but something told you Matt wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

“Really?”

He grins.

“Really. It’s close to the school, a good price, and rather close to me.” You grin and kiss him softly. It’s your favorite habit.

So, two weeks later, you’re hauling boxes into your boyfriend’s apartment. You take a few drawers of his dresser and some of your nicer outfits find their way into his armoire. Your mugs sit comfortably next to his in his cabinets. Your cabinets.

Your throw blanket is draped comfortably across his couch, and your shoes lay next to his.

Your lotion sits next to his first aid kit. You love dating Matt Murdock.

You love that next month will be one year since you moved to New York, and your life is sort of coming together. Glorious Matthew Murdock is your boyfriend. Your job is amazing. Your apartment is wonderful. Matt Murdock is your boyfriend, and he is amazing at kissing you.

• • •

So, Matt knows May is your year since moving to New York. He knows you guys could go to Josie’s and have a normal old time at the bar…

But he wants to do something special for you. So, he asks Foggy, Marci and Karen to get dressed up and go to a bar on the nicer side of town. Not that you don’t love Josie’s but your one year in New York calls for a special occasion.

You decide to wear a nice satin dress and he loves running his hands over the soft fabric. To Mat, you are perfect in every way, and every day he falls deeper and deeper in love with you.

So on a warm May night in Hell’s Kitchen, you sit in a bougie bar with your best friends, boyfriend and enjoy a year since you moved to this wonderful place you now call home. And a year and four months since your ex broke up with you. Truly, for a long time, you thought you’d never get over him.

Now, Matt is all you see.

At some point, a little tipsy, you kiss Matt’s cheek gently and tell him you’re going to grab another drink.

“Do you want anything?” You ask softly.

“Just for you to come back soon. I’ll miss you.” Oh, Tipsy Matt was your favorite.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” You kiss him quick and head off to the bar. You order another drink and wait patiently, taking in just how happy you are in this moment.

Then, a familiar voice calls your name, and you glance over and you can’t believe it.

Your ex-boyfriend is right in front of you, and for a moment, you convince yourself you must be drunker than you realized.

“Wow, you look fantastic!” He says a grin on his face. Was… Was your ex ever… attractive? You can’t remember if he ever was. Especially not since dating Matt.

“Oh, Thanks..” You smile softly, trying to be polite but to get out of here quickly and get back to the arms of your loving boyfriend.

“Are you here with anyone?”

“Yeah.” You told him. “Some of my good friends, and—”

“So, you’re not seeing anyone?” You furrow your eyebrows. When did you say that?

Then, there’s an arm around your waist, and you know whose it is in an instant.

“Hey, Sweetheart.. Is everything okay?” Matt asks, smiling to you. Oh, he knows. He knows big time.

“Everything is great.” You turn to your ex and grin. “This is Matt, He’s my—”

“Fiancé.” Matt ends.

Fiancé?

“Fiancé?” Your ex asks, bewildered.

“Mhm. Got engaged a few days ago, that’s what we’re here celebrating.” You said gently, leaning your head against Matt’s arm.

“Engaged, but you’ve only been here for a year!”

“Well, I wasn’t about to wait around for you to ask me to date you again.” You glance over to Matt. “Besides, when you know you know.” You say softly.

Matt leans in and kisses you gently, “When you know, you know.” He echoes.

Your ex is wildly uncomfortable.

“I thought you said you’d always love me.” He says, and he has that intimidating tone to his voice that you hate.

“Yeah… Me too.. Guess I was wrong. You have a nice night, Okay?” You smile and take your drink, turning to head back to your friends. Your ex is bummed out but leaves you alone, and Matt grins to you further.

“When you know you know.” He hums.

“Fiancé..” You echo. He shrugs gently.

“I like the sound of it.”

“Me too.” You say gently. “I love you.”

“I love you, Sweetheart.” He kisses your cheek. “So… A year in New York.”

“Yup. My list is all done.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I talk to you all the time, and I don’t apologize unless it’s necessary. I love teaching and my job. My apartment is stellar, and… I think it’s safe to say I am over my ex. I upgraded. In fact, my upgrade is so much hotter than anyone else I know.”

Matt leans in to kiss you, a grin on his face, but he mutters a soft, “That’s my girl,” Before he does.

[dragonstailbutch]

Hey sorry i am trying to like. find examples of what you mean when you talk about mra stuff and (trans)misogyny in forcemasc content and tumblr search has betrayed me once again, can you explain?

(sorry I normally wouldn't ask but I wanna make sure I'm not perpetuating anything!! Also fucking tumblr search!!! it is ridiculous!)

so ive been sitting on this ask for months since ive got it. i want to do it justice and try to take it at face value that its being honest in asking.

The thing is, theres this trend and a weird amount of effort to be like force femme, to be forceful and like its something to fearful of and give in to. But we cant do that, cause all that does is reinforce the idea that being a man is a toxic thing. I saw this post the other day where a transman talked about like, the whole "raised as a weapon" thing, the violence and horror of being a man and raised that way versus how they felt growng into it as a transman. How they wanted to reclaim that phrase or something? i could be misremembering.

But that was never the intent of forcemasc. It wasnt actually about being a dude, literally *forcing* someone who was unwilling into masculinity, none of the posts that i made that started the community (and yes i, a transfem butch woman, started and made this community and some of yall need to get over yourselves) were ever about that, it was intended to be a soft mimic or even a call to forcefemme.

i was all about making it soft and tender for a reason, cause if i didnt i was only reinforcing the toxic masculinity narrative, "men fighting in the mud" "men are dominant and cool" " to be a man is to be forced into masculinity and to be disgusted with the feminine" or whatever. When masculinity isnt about just men, and being butch isnt just being masculine. masculinity should also be sensitivity, not domination. i wanted it to be better, show a better side of what masculinity could be, what being butch is.

Ive spoken before a bit too, about the tags people used and added to forcemasc, and really maybe i was wrong in ever naming it forcemasc. people used and still use tags like autoandrophilia, autoandrophile, androphile, autogynephilia, androphilia, and autogynephile. Ive seen so many people with urls and tags and posts calling themselves transandrobros, literally calling themselves MRAs, as if that was something to be proud of, as if they dont understand that they arent fighting for their and our rights, they're fighting for cis-mens rights by using those names and terms, not transmascs/transmens rights. I can understand ignorance, but weve talked about how the words you use have history, especially those like the tags i mentioned and androphilia and androphobia and others, all of them have roots in deeeeeeeply misogynistic and transphobic people and history.

Literally all of these are awful and are phrases that arent and wont be reclaimed because theyre history is one of pain and hurting trans people, one of coercive 'help', literal forced detransitioning and reinforcement of MRA and terf narrative that men are both good and the worst creature alive and that to be a woman is to be disgusting and the purest thing all at once. That to be a transwoman is sick and we shouldnt be trusted.

Im trying to be very kind, not scream and rage, not because i dont desperately want to, but because if i do, as a butch transwoman, ESPECIALLY cause i claim being butch, people wont listen to me no matter how much of what i say is meaningful. one of the reasons why im doing this NO, instead of in anothr day or two, is that im coming to terms with the fact that the situation will just get qorse, not better without words.

Part of why im still sane is that ive gotten a couple asks here and there about how my posts and creation of the community has helped them and its so wonderful to see that, genuinely so amazing to see people recontextualize and love themselves. its wonderful and im so fucking happy about it.

i personally made this space so i could love myself, who i am as a trans person and my body, and i knew that other people needed and wanted that for themselves too and i wanted to help, share this love with more people. That to be hairy and chubby and masculine and butch was a nice thing. But to me it feels like it was coerced into being a thing for Men. A thing no longer for me or people like me who share the butch culture and name to no longer enjoy cause people unfamiliar with kink and tran history have decided that masculinity and butchness are the exact same thing. Id say people should go be a bear, but you wont learn their culture either and thats cruel and insulting to bears.

We deserve better You deserve better. Stop falling for the lies and hate. We beg you

[axelsagewrites]

Pls write some more yara Greyjoy either fluff or smut. I love your fanfics so much ���

Yara Greyjoy*Flirting

Pairing: Yara x f!targ!reader

Word count: 645

Warnings: none

Masterlist here

You were the youngest of your siblings and it made Danny cling to you. She made sure to protect you, never leaving your side until she was sure you were safe. It had left you a little sheltered to say the least, not that she’d ever let anyone tell you that.

Recently she’d started bringing you to council meetings and when she met with ambassadors. The latest person to request her presence was none other than Yara Greyjoy. Her eyes were focused on the queen, a slight smirk edging onto the outskirts of her lips as she spoke.

You tried to listen to the words, but you couldn’t help but be distracted be her. you had been taught beauty was in dresses, silks, and jewels by your brother, but Yara was beautiful like a dragon. Her leather trousers framed her legs perfectly, her shoulders broad and strong, and her eyes looked like they held the knowledge of the world.

“And I imagine your offer is free of any marriage demands?” your sisters voice brought you back into reality.

Yara’s lips quirked into a smirk, “I never demand,” she started, her eyes lazily falling to you, “but I’m for anything really,” she said, drawing her eyes back to your sister but there was already a hot blush scolding your cheeks.

You were stood beside Danny, but you didn’t need to see her face to know she wore her own smirk. You tried to be calm, keep unnoticed for the rest of the discussion but after asking for independence you couldn’t help but retort after Tyrion spoke, “What if everyone starts demanding their independence?”

“She’s not demanding. She’s asking,” you said, your voice soft but the fact you spoke at all caught them both off guard. Danny turned to you, raising a single eyebrow. You glanced back towards the Ironborn siblings and back to your own, giving a single nod back. it was all you had to do for Danny to know your position and Tyrion to be reminded of his.

-

Later that evening you were heading towards the hall for dinner when you felt someone’s hand grab your arm. Your head wiped around, eyes wide, only to be met with a smirk. “I’m sorry princess. I did not mean to startle you,” Yara said, her smirk smalling into a soft smile as she looked down at your dress, “I like the fabric. I was never one for frills,”

“I wasn’t either. Till recently at least,”

She chuckled a little, “I’ve only heard snippets about you, but I can imagine your story must be quite interesting,” her eyes were so captivating that the world around you seemed to stop.

“Hardly,” you laughed softly, “Yours though I imagine must be fascinating. I admire a woman who can take charge,” you said but your eyebrows furrowed when she laughed suddenly before realising, “I did not mean- “you tried to object when you realised the double meaning of your phrase.

Yara just chuckled, leaning in to whisper in your ear, “Don’t worry princess. I know exactly what you mean,” she said before pulling away, smiling at the hot flush on your face, “Now I was wondering if I may have the honour of escorting you to dinner? After all I’d hate for you to get hurt on the way to the festivities,” she said, holding out her arm to you.

You smiled and took it, trying your best to avoid her eye and the playful glint in it, “For the record I’d be able to make the journey alone,” you said, not wanting to sound weak to your newfound crush.

A smile peaked onto her lips, “I don’t doubt that princess. Though its good to know you enjoy my company,” she teased.

You felt your skin burn but you managed to smile back at her this time, “Maybe so,”

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[graciegoeskrazy]

about you

george daniel + stepdaughter!reader + charli xcx

warnings: mentions of absent father, weddings lmao, bit of crying, love

a/n: the one you’ve been waiting for. read part 1 if you haven’t already :)

PART 1 (I POSTED THIS IN DEC?! IM SRY)

You Mum and George have been in a whirl of romance these past few weeks. Constantly giggling, smiling, and kissing each other. They were all in. Especially with their new free time with both their tours being over, they both had all the time in the world to live in the newly-fianced bliss and do whatever the hell they wanted. You always made jokes about them since they started dating. Even in the very early days when your hesitancy towards George was still at its peak, you said how you knew they were gonna get married one day. You felt it. And now you’re here. They wanted to get married ASAP. A part of them wanted to go to some courthouse that day and just do it then and there while another part of them wanted an actual wedding with all the bells and whistles. They opted for a nice medium. It went without saying that they wanted you to have a part in the ceremony. You knew that, but you weren't sure what they had in mind. So when you heard the footsteps, whispers, and giggles coming from the pair as they walked up the stairs and to the door of your room, you knew they were up to something, but weren't entirely sure.

You knew they were right outside, but waited till they knocked. Secretly laughing at the hushed whispers and laughs they were letting out. Finally, they both knocked.

“Yes?” You asked.

“It’s Mum and George.” She said. “Can we come in?”

“I’ll allow it.” You said. You knew George rolled his eyes at the phrase.

Once inside your room they slowly made their way to the foot of your bed together, hand in hand, never taking their eyes off of you. They looked like two little kids getting ready to ask their parents for a sleepover. They were filled with anticipation, trying to hide it with smiles. They sat down together and stayed there for a minute. Just smiling at you like two goofy little kids.

You looked at them with confusion. “Can I…help you both?”

“We have some news…”

You sat up. “Are you dying?”

“No.”

Oh shit.

“Are you pregnant?!”

“God, no!” They both said in unison.

You smiled and gave in. “What is it?”

Your mom took a deep breath and George pulled out a small box with a necklace inside that you didn't even realize he was hiding behind him. Your initial was sandwiched between a G and C on the chain. “Maid of honor?” She asked, timidly.

You laid back on your pillows.“I would’ve gotten offended if you didn’t ask.”

They both smiled.

…

You weren't entirely sure how they were gonna plan a wedding by themselves in just 4 months, but to your surprise they did!

All eyes were on you when you walked down the aisle. With you being Maid of Honor and Matty being George’s best man, you both walked down arm in arm together. All eyes were on you both as you walked down. Your mom wanted you to pick out a dress you liked. It was perfect. Very pretty, very mature. You looked like a very prim and proper young woman. So much so that George cried and couldn't take his eyes off you the entire walk down.

You started to walk back up the aisle, turning back towards the group with hesitancy. “Go on,” George whispered. You smiled and went to get your mother.

It was a simple gesture that spoke a million words - giving your mother away at her wedding. Charli brought the idea up and you immediately said yes. Once at the beginning of your trek, you opened the large doors to reveal your mother. She was a vision in white. You gave her your arm she took it. You could tell she full full of emotion, and so was George, but you tried to remain cool and collected the entire day. Even though a very large part of you wanted to jump up and down and tell them to say I do already. You shot her a look and whispered, “You alright?” She took a deep breath and set her sights on the man you were leading her to. “More than alright.” You both smiled at each other.

“Let’s go get your mamma hitched.”

You two walked arm in arm, meeting George at the end of the walk. Once your mom was in position, George went to hug you but you jokingly gave him the ‘I got my eyes on you’ fingers which made him and everyone around you laugh. You gave in though, giving him a huge hug.

You stood right next to your Mom, but George was right in your line of sight. You could only look at him the whole time. This is finally happening. He was going to be your family - your father - and it was about fucking time. The three of you had always been a family. Each one functions differently but they are all special, but you liked to think yours was extra special. The truth was that for a while you couldn't stop thinking about your dad. Your real dad, that is. It had always been a lingering voice in the back of your head, but the more the wedding got closer and closer, the more that voice got louder. He left when you were pretty young. Old enough to remember but young enough to not understand why exactly he left and did the things he did. Even now most of it was still a blur. You don't know much about him except that he is out there, somewhere, relatively close. And it makes your blood boil that he could reach out and contact you but he hasn't, and it's been nearly a decade. Your mom doesn't live an exactly private life, but that’s not what bothers you. It’s the fact that your biological father has a decent seat in your life from the online world and could know what you’re up to, but he doesn't care. Never called, texted, or emailed, not even a letter. But now, at this moment, that same voice that became so loud for such a long time became completely quiet. Not making a peep. And it was because of George.

…

“Now for the vows.”

Your mom read you at least 20 different drafts of her vows. You practically knew it word for word because she tested it out so many times. George however was a different story. You had no clue what he was going to prepare.

Your mom finished up her vows. “I love our family. It’s different, but it’s ours. I love our home and the fact that it doesn't feel the same unless you're there. I love the way you treat my daughter and the fact that you show her how a father should be. I love how you constantly continue to read my mind and make me feel whole. No one knows me as well as you Mr. Daniel.”

Once she ended her vows it was George’s turn. You had no idea what he had planned. A part of you was expecting something classic, while the other part of you expected a big joke or a Shakespeare sonnet or a dance break or something else fucking ridiculous. Whatever it was though, you knew your mom would love it.

We went to a classic list of “I love you”’s, something that would make your mom swoon 100 times over. “I love you. I love everything about you. Your smile, your laugh, I love your daughter as if she were my own.” Damn. “I love the way you talk, act, speak, sing, cook, dream, live. I love you.”

And she was in tears.

…

The reception wasn’t your typical rendezvous. If anything it felt like a nightclub or some kind of afterparty. No speeches, no ceremony, no cheesiness, just music, dancing, and an open bar. You sat at a table with some of the friends you had joined you. It seemed as if your mom never stopped dancing since she walked into the room. Meanwhile, George and all of his and your mom’s friends take turns being the DJ. Eventually, during Matty’s turn, he announced a slow song, and you noticed George whisper something into your mum's ear. Your eyebrows twitched in confusion, but before you could register what was happening your mom nodded and George walked over to you. He smiled and reached out his hand.

“May I have this dance?”

All your friends swooned and you wanted to laugh and throw up.

You took his hand and headed to the floor. Everyone continued what they were doing but a small group that consisted of your mom and your parent’s closest friends gathered around a table and watched as the pair of you. Matty and your Mum made faces but you just flipped them off and laughed as you took George’s hand on the floor.

The music played and he guided you through it all. Eventually, he noticed you zoning out, too lost in your thoughts. He’s noticed it a lot lately but never had the chance to talk to you about it. Maybe now wasn’t the best time but he wanted to make sure you were okay.

“You doing alright?”

You shot up, immediately back to your chipper self. (or at least the front you’ve been using for a while.)

“Mhm! Fine.” You smiled at him - one that he could see right through.

He moved one hand from your back to your face, his own becoming evident with concern. “What’s going on?”

You bit your lip and shook your head. “I can’t cry. People are watching.” You said, voice breaking, and buried your face in his chest.

“Oh, darling,” George said. For a second he thought something was seriously wrong, but he knew you (almost as well as your mom) and knew there was something different going on. He kissed your head and whispered to you. “What’s going on?”

You looked up, teary-eyed. “They’re happy tears. I promise.” You both chuckled.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” He said,

You couldn’t look at him, but you also didn’t want to look at the small group surrounding your mother either so your options were very limited. After a moment you looked at him. Facing him and telling him the words he’d been wanting to hear for what felt like ages. “I just wish you were my dad.” To you, you didn’t want to scare him. You didn’t want to push him away for fear that he may never come back, so you kept all these feelings inside, not realizing he’s been wanting to hear those words for a very very long time.

He didn’t say anything at first, just smiled. Your face fell back into his chest and prayed to whatever the hell was up there that you didn’t ruin everything. “But I am your dad.”

You tilted your head while it was still on your dad's chest and saw your mom. She winked at you. You turned back and sighed. You finally had your family.

[newtonsheffield]

Ok, but in Mile High-verse, when Mary and Tharman get engaged, how does Kate decide she's going to start calling Mary "Mum"?

Hmm, Well Kate knows her pretty well by that point because Mary’s been her Nanny for pretty much a year at that point, and she’s been dating Tharman nearly as long. So Mary’s been around a lot. She’s spent a lot of time with Kate, she helped plan Kate’s birthday party, she makes Kate breakfast and lunch and she reads her bedtime stories and ties her shoe laces and Kate feels very comfortable with her but still Mary’s surprised when Kate brings it up one morning, a little after Tharman left for work.

“You’re getting married to my Appa.”

Mary nodded, apprehension churning in her stomach, half wishing Kate had asked this when Tharman had been there to guide the conversation. Though she rather thought maybe Kate had waited to catch her alone. “That’s right, Kiddo.”

Kate didn’t say anything, just sipped on her juice for a moment, “And you’re going to be here all the time.”

“I am,” Mary swallowed, “Is that okay?”

“So you won’t… be my friend anymore?”

Mary cleared her throat, running her fingers through Kate’s curls the oddest idea running through her head. God, I hope I have babies just like you. “Remember we talked about the fact that I’m studying to have a different job?”

“Eyes.” Kate said confidently, “Your new job will be eyes.”

Mary smiled, “That’s right. So in a few months my job is going to be eyes, but I am always going to be your friend. I’ll live here with you and Daddy, and we’ll spend so much time together.”

Kate frowned, “But you’re… it’s different. It won’t be the same.”

“It’ll be maybe a little different.”

Kate didn’t say anything, she just stared at Mary for an uncomfortably long time before she said quietly, “I don’t have an Amma.”

Mary’s chest ached for her. The tiny girl who’d never had a chance to know the woman who must have loved her so desperately. The tiny girl who had so much love to give. “You do have an Amma, sweetheart. Even if she’s not with you anymore, you have an Amma and she loved you.”

Kate’s face crumpled a little. “That’s not what I wanted to say.”

“Okay, What did you want to say?”

Kate seemed to struggle with how to phrase it, frowning up at Mary who didn’t want to push her. Kate finally sighed, “Cinderella didn’t have an Amma. Her Daddy… got married and she… only liked her Daddy. She didn’t like Cinderella.”

Mary understood finally and her chest ached as she moved closer to Kate, “I see. Katie, I love your Daddy very much but I love you as well. He and I wouldn’t be getting married if I didn’t. I might not have made you with Appa but I do love you, and I’m going to look after you, okay?”

Kate seemed to relax, her tiny shoulders heaving as she took a breath, “Okay. So you’ll be… sort of like a Mummy.”

“I’ll be like a Mummy for you.”

“Can I… call you that?”

Mary’s heart stuttered, “If you want to. You don’t have to if it doesn’t feel good for you.”

“I think it… would feel good.”

“Okay well you can try it out then.”

Kate nodded, turning back to her juice, “Am I going to get a baby brother or sister?”

Mary’s eyes widened, “I- Why would you think that, Katie?”

Kate shrugged, “I want one. My auntie Im says that Ladies have babies when they love boys. She’s a brain doctor.” Kate said knowingly, “She’s smart.”

“Right,” Mary swallowed, “Well, Appa and I might have a baby one day. But not right now.”

Kate sighed, “Can I have a dog then?”

“Appa’s allergic to dogs.”

Kate rolled her eyes, sighing disappointedly “So he told you that then?”

“He did unfortunately, Sweetheart.”

[shinolavolume1]

i feel like another weird lasting effect of the certified 2010s misogyny moment is comments sections assuming every bad driver on is a woman when every man i’ve ever met drives like an asshole on purpose yet drives so much worse than every woman i’ve ever been in a car with

OMFG yesss. god, that kind of joke was around for so long but it reached its peak when i was growing up i feel like. we love to just forget all the random things women were the butt of the joke for so long.

its still happening obviously but not quite as egregious as the seeing thr phrase "Cool Story Babe Now Make Me a Sandwich" on multiple high school boys tshirts, and getting really fucking mad when i saw something like that. but nobody else even cared or realized how misogynistic and unfunny it is besides me so i kept my complaints to myself because im 15 and im one of the weird kids in the corner everyone forgets exists

[gorgonwrites]

bound to you (part 1)

diluc x fem!reader

authors note: hi! im gorgon and this is my first fic :) i am definitely NOT a writer, but i had an idea and i decided i wanted to do it myself >:)) this is turning into a slow burn type of thing i am so sorry haha. i usually like getting right into the thick of things but i just kept writing sos 

wc: 1,864

cw: uuuuuh none for now, no smut in this one! mutual pining, diluc is dumb and is trying to ignore his feelings for reader, fem!reader, arranged marriage trope, diluc learning to be a good husband blah blah 

It’s been six months since you came to the Dawn Winery. You’ve come to love Mondstadt and you adore the staff who share your home. The only person who was still warming up to you is your cold shouldered husband. Master Diluc wasn’t known to be an affectionate man, and he kept himself busy with business or stayed late at Angels Share. Even though you’d been married for months, you could count on one hand how many times you’d actually spent a moment alone with him. He avoided you, and quite frankly, you avoided him. You knew you’d never get a chance at marrying for love since you were the eldest daughter of a well known Lord in Fontaine. Your marriage was purely political, but you lived an easy life here. The stillness that you experienced most days was a relief compared to the constant partying and being paraded around at events like you were an item to be auctioned off to the highest bidder. You were, however, incredibly lonely. Adelinde tried to remind you that Master Diluc was a very kindhearted person, he just needed time to adjust. 

“It hasn’t been that long since you arrived and married the Master, Lady y/n. Just give him time, he shows his affections in… his own way. You’ll see.” You sighed. Another six months of avoiding each other may drive you mad. You were an independent woman, and not being allowed to lift a finger in your own home was driving you past boredom towards insanity. 

“Do you think I’ll be able to help with the grape harvests soon? Master Diluc will be away on business for at least another month and I’m happy to provide another pair of hands.” You phrased it as a question, but as the Lady of the house Adelinde wasn’t in a position to refuse. She giggled as if you had asked her something rather mischievous.

“I know we could use the help. Besides, you could put that vision of yours to good use and keep everyone cool, I’m sure.” You didn’t get many chances to use your cryo vision anymore, and you jumped excitedly at the thought. Your husband can hardly stand the cold, and you’ve tried to limit how much you use it out of respect for him. He may avoid you, but he hasn’t been unkind. You try to afford him the same treatment, even if it was difficult at times. You were directly going against his wishes by offering to help with any harvesting work out in the hot summer sun, but what your husband doesn’t know won’t hurt him. 

“I’ve got more frozen lemonade, boys!” You yelled out to the men working tirelessly in the vineyard. Adelinde held an umbrella out for you to shield you from the afternoon heat, but you were feeling perfectly cool after using your vision to make a huge batch of frozen drinks for your employees. 

“Thank you, Lady y/n!” Each man said one after another, quickly snatching their drinks from the tray you brought out. You all had been working for hours at this point, your nose and cheeks were tinged pink from the sun. 

“Alright, after this we’ll get back to it. I’ve got a bit of energy left!” you said cheerily. 

“You most certainly will not.” a familiar gruff voice asserted behind you. Your eyes widened before you slowly turned to come face to face with your husband, speechless. He was home more than two weeks early. You stood before him in a thin undershirt and underskirt to combat the heat, sweaty, sticky, and sunburned. Embarrassed, you whispered softly,

“Welcome back, Master Diluc.” You averted your eyes from his gaze, suddenly feeling exposed in your current state. 

“Adelinde, please see y/n to her chambers and have her rest. I’ll help with the remainder of today's harvest.” he spoke as though you weren’t even there, and you were close to snapping. You can’t though, not for everyone to hear. Adelinde began to shuffle you back to the winery, and you chanced a glance back to look at your husband. He had already shrugged his coat off and began unbuttoning his shirt. He looked up to see you staring, and you swore you saw a small smile appear on his face. Surely not, you thought to yourself. And you let Adelinde take you inside to bathe and relax after a long afternoon in the hot sun. 

After your bath you sat alone in your room, wondering whether or not you wanted to find your husband. The harvests of the day had long since ended, and the skies were stained pink and orange as the sun set. You had a perfect view of the vineyard from your window, so you sat to watch the sky as you got lost in thought. You began to mindlessly braid your frizzy curls, and became so engrossed in the thought of your shirtless husband that you didn’t hear a quiet knock at your door. 

“Y/n?” You jolted at the sudden intrusion, only to see the subject of your wandering thoughts in your doorway. You looked away quickly, wanting to hide the flush creeping up to your cheeks. You felt hopelessly exposed again, only donning your summer nightdress. Your husband was a handsome man, you knew that. But you didn’t know him. After six months of marriage you knew nothing about the man in front of you, but you were finally ready to find out. 

“I did knock,” he smiled sheepishly, “I wanted to… see to you being well rested before I retired for the evening.” You furrowed your brow in confusion. This was the first time Diluc had visited your chambers, and he wanted to make sure that you were resting? You quickly changed your mind about getting to know him, and you could feel agitation creeping into your skin. 

“I am very well rested, thank you Master Diluc.” you replied flatly. His expression fell slightly, and you scrambled to find something else to say. 

“I told you not to call me that. I’m your husband, calling me Diluc will suffice.” You scoffed at him in response.

“Some husband, who has hardly spoken to his lonely wife in six months. Hardly even seen her as well! Leaving her to entertain herself day in and day out. I think if I become any more restless I may die from the madness!” You clapped a hand over your mouth as soon as the words left your lips. Wide eyed, you glanced at the man in your doorway once again. He’s nothing but a stranger, you reminded yourself. Even so, you didn’t mean to sound so harsh.

“I apologize,” you immediately whisper, “I didn’t mean for that to sound so unpleasant.” He smiled gently in response. Even if you pushed the limits of what you could do, even with your fiery quips and sarcastic comments, he only ever showed you a softness that no one else witnessed. Maybe you were the one giving him the cold shoulder and hadn’t realized it. You crossed your arms in response to your own thoughts.

“Don’t apologize for saying things I need to hear. I know I’ve been exceptionally busy since you came to Mondstadt. After the harvests are done, I’ll have a bit more freedom to do as I like with my time. I’ll see to it that I spend some of that time with you. Sleep well.” He quickly turned on his heel and was out of your room, leaving you speechless. You couldn’t help but notice your heart pounding, and you clutched your chest in hopes of calming it quickly. The sky was almost dark now, and you watched as crystalflies floated through the vineyard. Your heart had slowed its pounding, and you sat in your window again to go over what your husband just said to you. 

Diluc quickly made his way across the winery to his own chambers and let out a sigh when he closed his door behind him. His heart threatened to beat out of his chest after the short interaction with you, and he couldn’t deny the bulge growing in his trousers after seeing you in your thin nightdress. 

“Damn it.” he breathed. No matter the distance he kept between the two of you, the yearning he felt became clearer and clearer. He wanted you, and badly at that. Kindness flowed out of you like water, your fiery personality was intoxicating, and you were undeniably the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. He resisted growing close to you because he worried about putting you in danger. Anyone close to him could be used as collateral against him, and if anything happened to you his relationship with the Lords in Fontaine would crumble. Is he worried about that, though? Or is he more worried about any harm coming to you? He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, cursing at himself. 

Spending time with you would change nothing. He was sure he could easily entertain you once or twice a week when the Winery’s busy season came to an end. He took a breath and slowly began to undress for the evening. He huffs at the chilly night air flowing in from his open window, kissing his tanned and freckled shoulders. Diluc didn’t like the cold. It reminded him of what his life became after losing his father, and preferred to keep his body and home warm despite how hot it became throughout the summer months in Mondstadt. He thought of your cryo vision, and wondered if your body stayed cool in the same way that his body stayed hot due to his own pyro vision. Do you even like the heat? What was your favorite season? Would you ever tolerate being touched by him? His mind was racing again. Stripped bare aside from his shorts, he flopped onto his bed and dug the heels of his palms into his eyes. 

Gods, she’ll lead to my ruin if I’m not careful. He stretched his arms over his head, seeing stars from the pressure of his palms. He smiled. Maybe any ruin you lead him to could be worth it.

AHHH okay that's it for now sorry there wasn’t much ~flavor~ but i had to set the scene okay. like i said im no writer so feedback is always welcome! im so soft for this man i can hardly stand it LMAO 

[hungee-boy]

Feel free to ignore if you’re uncomfortable with or just don’t want to answer but how would you change isebela to not be caricature without changing the whole character? Would it be more fashion changes or physical or something else?

Kinda like: how would you change her if you were her character writer/designer for the new game?

isabela at her core i think is a very compelling character and is relatable to a lot of romani experiences, especially with her doing whatever she has to to survive

i would definitely keep her stealing as castillion's responsibility, him making her steal the tome of koslun under threat of death for example would be fine because if he wasnt in the picture, chances are she wouldnt have stolen it in the first place

other forms of thievery besides just like looting bodies and picking chests (as those are gameplay mechanics for all characters) shouldnt be for her enjoyment or greed, only for her survival or just not done at all

her staying a pirate is fine imo and i like the idea of her being an ethical pirate (like her freeing the slaves castillion had her transport) but we all need to look at how pirates are depicted in fantasy and how much of that is anti-roma racism and caricatures

her being so sexualized and her comments on "life back home" are where i have the biggest issues honestly

like romani women have always been targets of fetishization and sexual violence, as well as many women being sterilized without consent to prevent more romani children being brought into the world

getting some damn clothes on her would be a great start, like some pants at the very least. i would like to incorporate more romani clothing in her design tho like maybe a traditional blouse instead of her usual top

maybe a romanced isabela can have her replace her blue dikhlo with red, since wearing a dikhlo is usually reserved for married women of certain vitsas (most common with eastern european roma if im not mistaken) or giving her a red hipcloth (again specific to certain vitsas)

romani dress is usually modest and loose fitting, with women commonly wearing long skirts and blouses with jewelry and adornments to symbolize her wealth and status and im not saying isabela should be covered head to toe, shes an open person and not every romani woman should be expected to dress one way over another, its just her look is way too impractical for the sake of being sexy and again romani women are very often sexualized regardless of what they wear

isabela's attitude towards sex and being open to intimacy is not an issue on its own, what is the issue is how the writers make fucking jokes of her sexuality at every chance they get (like the std joke in anders' clinic, aveline's slut shaming, etc. etc. etc.....) and this is just my personal opinion but there are times that she comes on too strong to like hawke or carver or fenris that seems unrealistic and just like an attempt for the writers to further hone in on how horny shes supposed to make you feel

like yes have her be open and not ashamed of being intimate but put more love and respect on it. i love an isabela that is repressed in her own feelings and the only way she knows how to have meaningful connections is through sex cus thats what was expected of her. like oh my god do you know how many people relate to that, if its done right it could be a very compelling arch to her character and maybe something she learns isnt concrete the more platonic/romantic meaningful time she has with everyone in da2 and beyond

as for her comments about rivain and the people there, like the phrase "even deny a fortune teller and theyll run you out of town" to merrill, just makes rivainis out to be greedy and shameless swindlers and that projection is obviously also put on romani people since that is a VERY common stereotype

like the phrase "getting gypped" literally means to be cheated and comes from the word gypsy. theres no denying the intention the writers had when they wrote that line for isabela

and honestly i love the idea of rivain (i say the idea cus we only hear accounts of the nation, we havent seen it in person yet) i love the idea of a matriarchal society that is religious and spiritual but does not tolerate the chantry's bigotry and openly accepts society's outcast such as mages and qunari

romani culture irl is patriarchal and often anybody who is not romani is typically not trusted, but if rivain was treated as an idealistic fantasy romanistan, where our values and traditions are implemented and we make a better world for ourselves and other outcasts then it could be very compelling

thats the thing with representation, sometimes it doesnt have to reflect reality 100%, but it still requires knowledge so that you can make new ideas based on the facts and reasoning of the group youre representing

[slitherpunk]

this may be a silly question

how do I become a girl when I am very much not one

oh! oh how do i phrase this in a way that's believable and succinct...

basically.. you can decide yourself!! if you want to be a girl.. you can just be a girl. contrary to what society demands, there isn't really a rulebook or guideline. you don't have to adhere to what society believes a girl is. being a girl is something in your heart and mind!!

i urge you to spend time with other trans people. learn about their experiences, share your own. there's a lot of different steps you can take to help you feel more girl, if you decide it's for you! i think one of the most common steps other trans people take (other than a change of wardrobe) is hormone replacement therapy. it's something that takes time and patience, but for many it's what helps them feel more comfortable. if you feel comfortable with what the effects of that is, it might be the sort of thing for you.

i'm just a silly girl online. so, i'm not sure how much help i could really bring to a conversation like this. but!! there was a time i too thought that i couldn't ever be a girl. i felt like my body and face weren't the right shape or my hair doesn't work right or i'd just not pass or whatever. but the truth is, girls can be any shape. boys can be any shape. when it comes to biology, some shapes are just more likely than others depending on how you're born. my little secret for self confidence is knowing that: 1. im a woman, 2. i love women. 3. i love myself!

basically.. well... believe in yourself!!! i know it can be tricky, but!! you can believe you're a girl and love yourself for it!!

[transmychem]

kicking off my first analysis…

the most “clearly trans” (or not?) song by mcr.

“Not That Kinda Girl”

this unfortunately quite literally involves gerard and how they seem themselves.

lets dive in..

“everybodys talking bout the way you left your man” not to be THAT person but… around the time this song was (most likely) wrote was when Gerard and Bert McCracken had a falling out… not to mention they literally held hands during the Under Pressure performance. so.. yeah “everybodys talking bout the way you held his hand”

now these could be interpreted as filler lyrics… however i would like to interpret it as Gerard figuratively drowning in the media’s portrayal of him and the expectations society has. kinda enough said..

ignoring the “borrowed” lyrics and the implications of that… jk.. there are a lot of implications of gerard borrowing lyrics from one of the first technically “feminist presenting” songs about a woman who is done with societies shit. sound familiar?…

“so say goodbye to all my friends” if im getting my facts right Gerard lost two good friend around this time… Frank and Bert… from my knowledge frank and gerard and well most of mcr for that matter were fighting and on the verge of quitting the band. and well i already mentioned what happened with Bert.

“i fell in love with her again” … this is obviously about Gerard and Lynz relationship.. a lot of people, even people close to him, did not want him marrying Lynz for countless reasons whether theyre valid or not. They got married around this time, and there was a lot of controversy because these things happen when youre a hot and famous rockstar especially a hot famous rockstar that kisses men… because the women want you the men want you and the gays want your representation. everyones gonna hate his spouse by default (not defending lynz (IDK anything about her)these are just facts…)

“everybodys talking bout the way you cur your hair” we know Gerard cut his hair and dyed it white for the black parade around this time. everyone was talking about it. obviously didnt give a flying fuck.

“everybodys talking bout the way you smoke that there” sensitive topic warning: … people were probably still talking about Gerards known cocaine addiction… and his path to sobriety and caring wayyy too much about what he does. they criticize him for smoking cigarettes bc ppl are insane and paranoid for some reason. i guess people are always hypercritical about celebrities especially if theyre a huge role model for vulnerable youth. Gerard has never cared too much about all that though. “i dont care at all”

now that we have established this song is clearly about Gerard, lets talk about a reoccurring line in this song

“cause im not that kind of girl”

this phrase has been kicked around for ages about women who sleep around or something. being “not that kinda girl” implies your “different from other girls” mostly in the sense that youre not a floozy or whatever… like lets not pin queens against eachother..

now why did Gerard use girl? he could have said “not that kinda guy/boy” but perhaps no one would get the reference unless they can read into the irony…

but i think Gerard likes the irony of using “girl” as a way to refer to themselves. because people have treated him and his relationship like hes just some “silly girl” or something. like they think Gerard is some kinda whore for kissing men and having gfs… the way society tends to view bisexual/queer people… (using bisexual bc theyve done things with guys and girls publicly and that makes you bisexual by societies standards..)

this song doesn’t necessarily have to do with being trans if you put it that way. Gerard is probably using “girl” to refer to themselves because of the irony.

but i’m gonna say this song is trans because why the fuck not.

thats just how i interpret it. it has trans vibes.

does not necessarily mean its about gerard, because gerard has made up so many characters for his music alone, why would this not be about just another character? the answer lies in the fact that all these things happened to him. hes talking about himself. isnt all singing, all lyrics, really about self awareness and self loathing or pondering of self? dont get me started… also the fact that all characters authors create are some fragment of themselves.. so yeah. referring to yourself as a girl (if you were born male) is just kinda trans…

now one last point after this conclusion. possibly a stretch. this song could be Gerard telling people they’re still queer even though they’re in a relationship with a woman. If this song is about Gerard being a girl then they’re saying they’re still queer for being in a relationship with another girl... tumblr dont FREAK. i said it was a stretch. (though it’s literally in the text…) but could just be like i said, just Gerard saying they’re still queer despite being in a “heterosexual passing” relationship and nothing else…

and this part i almost forgot… sorry for being all over the place i have adhd…. but this part kinda confirms my theory. “all your life i let you down”… is Gerard saying they let us down by letting society believe they are cis? idfk.

anyway. thats what makes me think this is the most off the bat transgender esque song.

transfems and lesbians this is YOUR song.

<3