#warning I am cis

[vinylfoxbooks]

June 26 - Knee | @jegulus-microfic | wc: 767 TW: Dysphoria, accidental misgendering

James is the happy-go-lucky person in school. He’s the loud, energetic, backbone of the Gryffindor tower. Everyone loves him, everyone sees how smiley he is, everyone knows that James Potter is perfect. It’s one of the things that Regulus hates about him, he’s too happy, too loveable, too good at taking away his brother. 

So he’s taken aback when he comes up to the Astronomy Tower only to find James sitting on the edge of the tower, staring up at the sky, with his knees tucked up into his chest. He’s silent, but his shoulders are heaving as though he’s sobbing.

Regulus is about to turn around and walk out of the tower, but as he’s leaving, James whips around and his eyes catch Regulus’. There are tears streaming down his face, his eyes are red, and his face is puffy. And Regulus feels like he shouldn’t be seeing this.

He shouldn’t be seeing the sun break down. That’s not something that Regulus deserves. He treats James like shit. Sirius or Remus or Pete should be seeing this, not him. 

“James?” Regulus asks, taking a small step towards where James is sitting, not sure how to deal with this, “Are you okay?”

James clears his throat and sniffs, wiping at his eyes, “Yeah, I’m… fine.” 

“You’re not.”

“What do you know?”

“I know what it looks like when people cry.” Regulus hums, making his way towards James and sitting a bit away from him, “And I know that you’re not fine. I can also assume that you’re the type of person to hide all of your problems from your friends.”

James hums, “Why does it concern you.”

“I’m not your friend.” Regulus hums, lifting his chin a bit and searching for his star, “Tell me.”

“How do I know you’re not going to use it against me?” James asks, voice weak, “How do I know you’re not going to run to Sirius and tell him that I’m fucked in the head, that I’m pathetic? You love him, you hate me.” And Regulus doesn’t know what to say to that.

So he doesn’t respond for a couple seconds before he mutters, “I don’t hate you and I’m not the type of person to parade around the issues of others.”

James laughs weakly, though Regulus isn’t sure whether it’s at himself or at Regulus, “It’s nothing. I’m just being stupid and weak, bad at being a fucking normal human being.” 

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not-” James shakes his head, “I’m not… I’m not a fucking man.”

“What do you mean?” Regulus asks, “Like, you’re a girl?” Maybe if James is trans, then Regulus will know how to help him. At least, he might. 

“No, I’m not that either.” James once again shakes his head, “That’s the fucking problem. I don’t like when people call me a guy, I hate when people call me a girl. I don’t like it.”

“You like… androgyny.” Regulus hums, “You’re not a guy, you’re not a girl.”

“I’m just…” James sniffs, “I’m just James. And I hate when people call me a man but everyone does it. I can’t- I don’t…” They take a deep breath, “I…”

“Have you told your friends this?”

“How the fuck do I do that?” James shakes their head, “They’ll think I’m fucking mental.”

“I don’t think you’re mental.” Regulus shakes his head, “And I sincerely doubt that they’ll think that. You guys are loyal to each other, to a fault. If that gets you breaking down like this, you need to tell them.”

“But I’m…”

“You’re not.” Regulus says, shaking his head and not caring just what James was going to say about themself, “Let me tell you something. I’m- I’m not a normal guy.”

James perks up, their shoulders lifting a bit, “What?”

“I was born a girl. It’s called trans. I don’t know if that’s what you are, but it’s… normal? For people like us to feel like we’re the wrong gender and if you feel like you don’t have any specific gender, I can’t say that makes you weird.” 

“Does Sirius know?”

Regulus huffs a laugh, “Sirius was the one that cut my hair and taught me the spell to hide my chest. He taught me a spell to make my hair look longer when we go home. I sincerely doubt he’d mind if you told your friends, or at least him, how you feel. You should just tell them.”

“Will you be there with me when I do?”

Regulus sighs, reluctantly wrapping his arm around their waist, “If you want me to be.”

[empty-blog-for-lurking]

do you have any more details about the 'it was all a dream' au? the premise is so cool!

Ok so schrodeinger reality au, gonna be real this au has almost nothing but vibes (and heavily inspired by Madoka: Rebellion, Piecemeal episode and the Stranger entity from tma and this comic)~

tw none of it is explicit but it is better to be safe- mention of suicide attempt by poison (skip from "Her mother asks if she's ok" to next para)

mentions of gore (skip from "Ghosts start to solidify" to next para and "This was the worst condition" to next para)

mention of car crash (it is one line but still),

mention of death (skip from "This was the worst condition" to next para)

mention of a serial killer (skip from "This was the worst condition" to next para) ,

mention of violent murders (skip from "This was the worst condition" to next para),

mention of mutilation (skip from "This was the worst condition" to next para)

So basically right after Allura saves the multiverse, she wakes up in a room, in a bed, with things that arent her own but also feel really familiar. She also wakes up to find her hair is brown rather than white, her marks are gone (whammy), and her ears are round (double whammy), and she's a human (what the qUIZNAK). Like naturally she's freaking out right until the door opens and that is her mother, or well her human mother. She doesnt look anything like Melenor, her real mother, and yet she knows that the human woman was her mother.

Allura runs out of her room and the house isnt her own but also is, she remembers drawings on the wall she did as a kid, she remembers tripping on those stairs while running as a teen, she remembers when those photos on the wall were taken few months ago. She remembers this house she is in right now, she remembers a life she never lived. Her mother asks if she's ok. Her mother has been so worried since she.....almost killed herself. A simple quick acting poison, something painless. Mom found her in time and took her to the hospital. That is what the memory tells her.

Except, no she didnt, but she did. This isnt her life and that is not mother, except it is and she is her mom. This isnt real none of this is real. Both memories feel as real as the other. Her mom asks if she is ok again. She want to push her away, she's clearly a liar. She want to hug her, she is scared and wants her mom to tell her she's going to be ok. She can just nod in reply, both her pasts feeling more like a dream than a memory. She yearns for the life that is gone in every way, she wants to reject the new life that is gifted not lived. However the sense of loss is ever present.

As far as Shiro is concerned he has lived a pretty normal decent life. Ups and downs like everyone has. He achieved his dreams of going to space and it was good while it lasted. He survived an accident that took his arm and left him with scars. Awful thing car crashes, even if he doesnt really remember it and it Certainly doesnt matter. Had few relationships, few break ups, moments of joy and sorrow in equal amounts, cant really complain. His brother was there for it all, and even if Kuro loves to annoy him that is what brothers are for. All in all rather normal life. Except, one day he had a nightmare, with furry alien colonizers and alien witches and gladiator rings and giant robot lions. Non sensical and pointless he chooses to not think about it, suppresses it everytime it threatens come up. Except they keep coming, during his days and during his nights and he buries them deep every time. And they keep getting worse every time.

Until one day, there was a ghost, ghost that looked just like him, gored and bleeding just blankly staring at him. At first he thought it was Kuro, but when Shiro yelled out for him in horror, he pops out from wherever he was and walked past through that ghost. Little horrified, he decided to suppress this too, maybe stress or maybe a prank or maybe something else completely mundane. He never looks at the ghost, refuses to acknowledge its existence. Ghost disappears and appears seemingly randomly, (everytime he suppresses a memo- thoughts about his nightmares). Ignores it, doesnt acknowledge it, suppresses it, buries it within. The more he does it, the more they present, the more they stay at the back of his mind.

But then ghosts starts to solidify. First as bloody fingers, then as bloody hands, slowly slowly. The body part stayed, always bleeding, they are not seen but they are felt. Kuro almost slips on an unseen pool of blood, complains about the floor not looking wet. Shiro buries them too, in his flowerpots and flowerbeds and in backyard six feet under and when the body fully forms.

The ghost stop appearing after that, but he still doesnt feel free, he finds himself staring at a certain spot, still feels like the smell of blood lingers. Sometimes he could almost hear a heartbeat where the body is buried. But no, this never happened! Just like all those nightmares never happened, this never happened. Acknowleding it, even as some sort of hallucination makes it real, makes everything real, so it never happened. So what if his scars dont fit for a car crash, so what if his memory is spotty. Coincidences really, followed by a stressed mind and it's overactive imagination. Kuro worries but that is what a brother is for.

And as far as Shiro is concerned, he lives a pretty normal decent life.

This was the worst condition, Doctor Jaspreet Kaur had ever seen. Granted her tenure is not that old, only been a few years since she was a doctor, but this still had to be worse. A man, a young one, maybe in 20's skinned alive. Most definately a murder attempt. A serial killer has been in the news lately and her new patient shares the same condition the killer's victims when found. No identifying features, whether it be identity proof, tags on clothes, tattoos, skin marks or face itself. This time however, by some miracle, despite everything he was still alive.

So she and the other doctors trt everything they could to save this nameless person. He would have to stay in intensive care, will go through multiple surgeries and if he lives through all of that the damages would still be lifelong. But they still have to save him. So they try, they succeed in stopping the bleeding and stabilize him. They got in touch with the police, who took the statement for the new lead, hoped he survives so they could arrest the killer but didnt seem to care about his identity. Now it is a waiting game.

Few days later as she was making her rounds, she saw the Patient, and not only was he sitting up and moving, he was actively ripping off all his bandages. Jas ran in to stop him, but then stopped.

The Patient's skin had grown back. Light brown, as dark as hers, black hair, and freckles clear visible unlike hers which were always hidden under a ton of makeup. And when Jas looked at him she realized somethings. The patient looked familiar but in a way she cant quite put a finger on. Most likely Indian descent, american accent but hint of punjabi, 5'7, a bit chubby. The patient reminded her of her sister, and her brother, and her mother, and her father, and her grandparentss, slightly like all of them but not them. She also noticed the mirror in the patient's room was cracked, right from the point where the patient's reflected head would be.

The patient then turns to her and asks her questions, who are you? what place is this? What happened to me? And Jaspreet answers the best she can, i am Dr Jaspreet, we are in the State Hospital, you were brutally attacked but you are ok now. And then Jaspreet asks her own questions, do you know who you are? Do you have someone to call? Do you know who did this to you? And the patient- he? They? she? She. She just shook her head no, no she didnt know who she was, only what she is now. No she didnt remember anyone and doubted anyone remembered her. She did not know who did this, but she will find her killer.

Jaspreet wanted to ask what she meant by that. But the Patient stood up, something she shouldnt have been able to, not with injuries or with pain meds. Too dumbfounded to even react, all she can do is watch, as the Patient thanks her, asks where the hospital keeps patients things, and then left.

The Patient was already gone when she even thought to react. But that is ok! She'll just call and ask and staff security to stop the Patient. She even has a description, it is uhhh ummm she cant remember. She cant remember how the Patient looked like. And wait- was the Patient a guy in his 20's? Or a woman in her 30's? No, no neither, maybe something in between? Doesnt matter. She called the reception, told them the Patient from the room number 3462 would be making his way to the reception, and to please stop h-sh-them? As they required further observation. And the receptionist said that that particular hasnt been assigned in days. That cant be right? It was for the patient who almost uhhh died? And needed care for-for something? She would have to check the logs later. But no, the receptionist cant remember any such patient. And Jaspreet cant remember it well either.

Days later Jaspreet would read the news that the serial killer has finally been arrested, evidence compiled by an anonymous sleuth. Jaspreet is glad that the serial killer was arrested but also felt that she should be more.......interested in this case? Like she knew something about this case but doesnt really but cant tell you why. But well she guesses that is it than, if it was memorable than she would have remembered.

[artekai]

At this point the only reason I still have to think that Fross is not a trans man in any way shape or form is that if he had picked his own name he simply wouldn't have named himself Fross

[djangologie]

I'M GAY

[rae-writes]

angelic alteration

om brothers x reader

wc : 1.k

warnings: nsfw, corruption kink based

synopsis : when Solomon and Diavolo can't fix the problem, it's up to Mc

a/n : thought the angel event (og) could use some more spice so I poured my entire spice rack on it

“Mc…I’m afraid we have bad news.”

You sighed into the receiver, “Yeah? You guys can’t reverse the magic, can you?”

“Nope!” Solomon chirped cheerfully, “Diavolo and Michael’s magic mixed together too strongly for us to reverse ourselves. You’ll just have to wait for them to go back to normal, or…”

“Or…what?”

“Well, this is just a theory, but what if you just corrupted the angelic magic and forced their demonic sides back out?”

“Corrupted, huh..? I like the sound of that.”

†

“I can feel the magic trying to stop me…how. stupidly. annoying.” Lucifer accentuated each word of his complaint with a sharp thrust, face pinched in concentration as sweat beaded at his temple. 

He’d be damned if something as trivial as a hexed bracelet from the celestial realm kept him from indulging in you, the one temptation he would never dare ignore. 

Your nails dug crescent moons into his shoulders, thighs squeezing at his hips tightly as you moaned and panted beneath him. “Lu-ci-fer! S-slow d-own!” 

He growled and sped up in response, snapping his hips into you harshly, “How dare they try to turn me back? I am the Avatar. Of. Pride!” Once again, each word was accentuated with a thrust, making his cock hit deeper and deeper each time. 

And he was so fucking proud each time he had you a moaning mess underneath him, crying out his name, begging him not to stop— you made his sin flood his entire body every time. 

An electric charge cracked through the air for a brief second before the bangle broke in half, magic forcibly shattering under Lucifer’s sheer prowess. 

He grinned sharply, capturing your legs against your chest in a mating press as he went even harder. His wings shedded to black, spanning out proudly behind him as the halo melted down into his horns. 

“I’m going to ruin you, do you hear me? You’re not leaving this bed- not tonight, or in the morning, or maybe even until tomorrow afternoon…I’m keeping you until I’ve had my fill.”

†

The sight of Mammon’s blue eyes peering up while his mouth was busy pleasuring you had always been a pretty sight— the shimmering halo was only a little bonus this time. 

But you wanted his horns to hold onto. “Just like that, Mams…doing so well, pretty boy.” Your hips rocked over his mouth, grinning down at him with gold flickering in your eyes. 

He was all about giving now that the bangle had taken hold, which even before, Mammon always keened when you sat on his face and just used him. 

The second born was moaning and whining and whimpering against your skin as his tongue lapped up everything he could, “Mmph- like this? ‘M I doing good, Mc?” 

“Y-yeah, baby, fuck— so good…” you carded your fingers through Mammon’s hair, feeling him get more and more excited before you lifted up off his face. 

And he was absolutely distraught with the lack of your taste, desperate cry leaving him as he tried to chase after you. “No, no, no! Mc, please, come back— wasn’t done, wanna taste you still, wanna make you feel good, please!” 

The laugh you let out made him whine even louder, fingers gripping frantically at your thighs. It was like a switch flipped, magic being overtaken by his greed. 

His eyes flickered gold like yours, a whiny growl escaping him. He forced you on your back within a second, mouth working at you even more desperately now as he held you down and took what he wanted— and he wanted to make you cum. 

“Jus’ let me, please let me make you cum— you taste so good, Mc, I don’t wanna stop. Want you to scream my name and yank my hair, grip my horns, just give me more- more, more, more!” 

†

A small shriek left Levi when you rammed against his prostate, hiccuped cries of your name following. His back arched, wings flaring out behind him, making you hit even deeper spots inside of him. 

With his new attitude, he’d been letting everyone else spend time with you and he was finally feeling the built up envy creep along his spine, right beside the spikes of pleasure. 

“Aww…look at you. So sweet for me, huh? Why so shy, Levi? Wasn’t this what you meant about strengthening connections?” 

Garbled sounds left him, courtesy of your fingers stuffed in his mouth. His eyes rolled back, hands gripping at your hips desperately, though it wasn’t clear if he was pushing you away or pulling you closer.

“How am I gonna know I’m doing good if you don’t tell me, ‘vi? C’mon, sweet thing, tell me. Or do you not want me?” 

It was like you asked the unthinkable. A loud whine left him and his tail returned, knocking the halo right off his head before it coiled around your abdomen. 

“No! I want you, I want you so badly, please keep fucking me— don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop!” Diamond shaped scales scattered across his body as the magic wore out. 

You cooed, thrusting into him sharply, making his body lurch, “Good boy, Leviathan..” 

†

“Fuck!” Satan cries out, fingers digging into his white wings to try and keep them from fluttering. His back arched almost painfully, loudly begging you to keep going. 

“Oh, look at you…” the coos that left you made him flush red, giving you a great sense of satisfaction. This was the most he’d been riled up since putting that ridiculous bangle on.

Your thighs were burning at the unforgiving pace you were riding him at, beads of sweat splashing onto his skin, so you decided to change the game a little. 

“Come on, Tannie, if you want it, work for it.” You settled your weight on top of him, ceasing your movements as you cockwarmed him instead. 

A displeased growl comes from the back of his throat, eyes snapping open with a glowing green. “Mc, move! Please!” 

Slowly, the halo above his head began to flicker and dim before it shattered, dissipating in the air. Another growl escaped him as his wings followed suit, tail lashing out like a whip. 

“That’s it— c’mon-!” You gasped when he yanked you forwards, chest pressing against his as his tail locked you in place. The only sounds that could leave you now were broken moans as he fucked you almost viciously. 

“You know how I feel about you fucking. teasing. me. Feels good doesn’t it? Yeah? Cause I’m not stopping. ‘M not stopping until I physically can’t fuck you anymore— fuck, I needed you.” 

†

Unabashed moans echo off the walls of Asmo’s bathroom as the fifth born writhes under your touch. The sound of water sloshing makes his cheeks burn fiery red and the sound of you moaning back at him makes it even worse. 

“W-wait! You d-don’t have to— oh!” 

“Shh, Azzy…’m just taking care of you. You were so hard and aching…could see it even though you tried to hide under the water.” 

The white feathers ruffled with pleasure (slowly shedded away and turning back), hips jerking frantically to chase the pleasure. The bangle’s magic was completely buried under how hot you made him feel and the feeling of you licking along the edges of his leathery wings increased it ten fold. 

“Yes, Mc, like that— don’t stop, just like that, just like that!” Amso curled over on you, horns knocking against your shoulder as he cried out even louder. 

You fisted his cock harder and swiped your thumb over the tip relentlessly, “Yeah? Made you feel so good, you corrupted yourself, huh? Pretty little Azzy…come on, cum.” 

The squeal he let out cracked halfway through, broken cries of your name following like a mantra. His hand encased yours, making sure you didn’t stop jerking him off. 

“K-keep going, don’t stop! Wanna cum for you again ‘n again, gotta make up for when I was giving you away to the others, please, please, let me cum again for you!”

†

“H-haaah…ah! M-Mc…what’re you..o-oh..doing?” 

“You said it made you happier seeing others get to eat, so…” you hummed, licking your lips before digging your tongue back into the slit of his cock, “I’m just..enjoying my meal…” 

Beel had always lost his cool when you went down on him, finding your mouth to be too good at pleasuring him. The growl he let out was something only a demon could make. 

The glowing of the bangle did nothing to deter you— in fact, you only laughed and peered up at him with the red sin of gluttony swirling through your irises. With another hum, you enveloped his cock in your mouth and forced your head as far down as you could, swallowing around him. 

He tried so hard to not buck into your mouth or grip at your head as the magic worked to keep his ravenous nature at bay, but…that’s just not who he was anymore. 

“C’mon, Beelie…want you to cum in my mouth, I wanna taste you..pretty please? Let me have it…” 

A low groan fell past his lips, hips finally jerking up and accidentally making you choke. A rushed apology was given as his fingers tangled in your hair and gently guided your head at a faster pace. 

The beating of his insectual wings was rapid as he got closer, magic completely dissipating when he let out a sound akin to a small roar, grabbing at his own horns when he came. 

Watching you pull away with visibly stuffed cheeks, slowly working on swallowing it all (though drops still ran down your chin) made a sharp pang shoot through him. 

“Thank you…you always make me feel so good, Mc…but..now ‘m hungry. Let me return the favor..wanna taste you too.” 

†

“A-are you sure…this is o-okay?” Belphie chokes out quietly, hands pressing down on your hips to keep you pinned to the bed with your knees bent to your sides. 

Your fingers curl in the sheets, body lurching forward at each thrust, “yeah, ‘s okay— feels good, doesn’t it? You’re doing so good, Bel…” 

The clipped whines and gasps that Belphie was making made his cheeks flair with an embarrassed flush; but you were right. It felt so. fucking. good. And he didn’t think he ever wanted to stop. 

Through the pleasure, it was easy to ignore the glowing bangle on his wrist and the voice in the back of his head telling him that he should have more reservations- that he shouldn’t be doing this— that voice wasn’t even his. Belphie wanted this, he did! 

As your hands stretched back to claw at his lower stomach, you moaned out his name and wiggled your hips, begging him to go faster. 

“Please, Bel…know you can go f-faster than this, want you to fuck me— please, please, please! Don’t wan’ you to be an angel, want you to be my demon again-!” 

Magic cracked in the air, sending the hair on the back of your neck rising before a familiar tail curled around your stomach and yanked your lower half higher up, forcing your chest further into the mattress. 

The attic bed creaked with the force he slammed into you at, whines mixing with growls now; his horns pressed against your skin as he rested his forehead against your back, making it arch even more. 

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you senseless again? Couldn’t even go a couple days without having me play with you, fuck, you’re such a slut for me.”

[everythingne]

little miss wingwoman (3) - ln4

You meet the Norris family, Penelope drops by for a surprise visit, and luckily Christmas Eve goes off without a hitch. Thanks to your amazing skills in everything that comes with being a nanny.

warnings/notes: I, once again, am posting christmas after christmas and i don't care <3 happy hanukkah by the way!! also shout out to my brother who inspired the whole 'athena falling asleep' bit here bc he did this w my baby cousin on christmas eve

(prev | next)

Lando is welcoming in his siblings while you're in the process of finishing up a quick little Christmas Eve dinner. They'd requested nothing crazy, so you'd scoured the internet to find a simple chicken dish, and had Lando go out to buy some games to play with the family. His siblings had all been on the same flight, but with a little rain systems coming through Monaco, his parents flight had been delayed a few hours.

Meaning, you got to be eased into meeting your roommate of barely a weeks family, and spending the holidays with them.

As you finally set down some tin foil over the last few sides, sliding them in the oven on a preheat setting to keep everything warm until Lando's parents arrived, Oliver and Flo poke around the corner to look at you.

You don't notice them studying the way you flow through Lando's kitchen, you're too busy counting over the names Lando had told you--Oliver, Flo, and Cisca, his siblings, you think in that order with Lando ahead of Flo. Then, Savannah, Lando's sister-in-law, and his two nieces Mila and Athena. His parents, Cisca and Adam, though you can't imagine calling them anything other than Mr and Mrs. Norris.

"Oh, guys," Lando's tone is full of smiles, proudly waving an arm to you as you turn around and discard your oven mitts onto the counter, "This is my roommate, Yn."

"Ah!" Oliver smiles, Athena in his hands sraring up at you with wonder in her eyes, "This is the roommate I've heard so much about."

"Oh, god, I hope all good things?" You step around Lando to properly greet each sibling, Savannah, and the girls.

"Lando talks about you a lot." Cisca teases softly, looking over at her brother, who flushed and quickly asked what everyone wanted to drink--safely deterring the conversation. Above everyones scurrying heads into the kitchen, you meet Lando's eyes, and find you can't look away as he crinkles up in a smile before turning to find cups for everyone.

A bit later, Lando runs out to go collect his parents from Nice's airport, leaving you with the siblings. Mila and Athena have taken to exploring the living room under their parents watchful eye as you scour for a good Christmas movie for them--settling on the Grinch after a while, just to have it on in the background. You can tell Athena's getting ready for a nap, but with so much excitement and noise, she seems to be struggling to settle down. Savannah seems a bit flustered, so you take a seat with her on the couch while Flo and Cisca sneak some cookies in the kitchen and gossip.

"So," Oliver starts, "We spent so long catching up with Lando, I never had a chance to ask anything about you."

"Oh, Sorry!" Savannah calls, turning to place a hand on your knee, "Don't want you to feel left out!"

"Don't apologize, it's alright! He's your brother and you said, Savannah, the last time you saw him was Goodwood, which was--what, July?" You say, watching as Cisca and Flo come to the living room, sitting down with their nieces and their toys by the big windows. Savannah offering the girls a thankful smile for taking them off her hands for the time being.

"Yeah, it's been a while." Flo hums, "And Cis and I didn't even see him at Goodwood, we saw him at Silverstone."

"He's so busy with racing, I see why but I still worry for him. He's still just the boy he was when we were young and running amuck through the woods in the middle of nowhere. He had no friends back then, and I worry he isolates himself here too, just blames it on being busy." Oliver leans back, running a hand across his head. You can see the worry for a baby brother he's watched grow clear in his eyes, and Savannah soothes a hand across his shoulders in comfort.

You hum softly, "He's got Max. And Oscar, Charles... Carlos, Alex and George, though I guess George is in London now... a lot of the drivers live close--we actually bought them presents for Christmas. He's got all of Quadrant too."

"And you," Flo prompts, looking up from where Athena tries to grab onto her hair.

"Yeah," you breathe out, turning to Oliver, "And me."

"How'd you meet?" Savannah asks and you smile.

"Max Verstappen, his 'bonus daughter' Penelope is the girl I nanny. I've worked for Kelly since Penelope was maybe three or four months, actually. Just an extra set of hands for her, but now I'm sort of like a housekeep? I watch the apartment when they're gone, cook, clean, help them keep track of everything--the two of them are also so busy." You laugh softly, watching as Athena uses the table to toddle her way over to her parents, Savannah picking up the sleepy toddler and laying her on her chest.

"But, with their baby on the way, the room I was living in is turning into a nursery. They didn't want to move, especially with a whole baby coming, so they helped me find a new place to live. Luckily, I knew Lando... kinda... we never really spoke much before but Penelope adores him so I've been out with Penelope at races or even in Monaco, and run into him."

Savannah watches as Athena scoots out of her hold and climbs across the couch, the curious toddler now taking up space in your lap as you wrap up your explanation, and a place a hand on her back, "So, Lando let me move in. I've pretty much transformed his entire apartment in exchange for the rent he's covering for me."

"I was going to say, it looks a lot better than the last time I was here." Oliver chuckles, Savannah countering with, "Yes, it does. A woman's touch was needed for sure."

"Lando kept asking us all about how to live with a girl," Cisca looks over her shoulder, watching as Flo and Mila move to join you on the couch. Little Athena snuggling into the warm of your hold as you move back.

"I told him it was just like living with sisters," Oliver rolls his eyes, "but he was insistent there was a way to do it wrong."

You laugh softly, imaging the way that he had probably begged for some sort of advice over the phone with his siblings, gently rocking a fussy Athena--who has been refusing her nap since she'd gotten into the apartment almost two hours ago now.

You speak softly, to keep the girl from waking up as she nearly is sleeping, "There really isn't, and I've been moving around so much my whole life I don't really have a set way to live. I kinda just adapt."

Before you can say anything else, the front door opens, and Lando announces he's back. Savannah lifts Athena, who whines, clinging to your shirt, and you shake her off, "I can take her, if it's okay."

"Sure, if it's fine. I wouldn't wanna wake her so close to her falling asleep. Athena loves to cuddle, she's a clinger," Savannah laughs softly, brushing her daughters wild curly hair back. You nod, holding her the way Savannah instructs--missing when Penelope used to be this tiny in your arms.

Lando's parents--Adam and Cisca, are happily talking with their children when you round the corner into the kitchen. Everyone turns with your presence, smiling at the sight of Athena curled in your arms, Mrs. Norris audibly aweing at the scene as you smile.

"Hi, it's really lovely to meet you both," You say softly, stepping over so they can give you hugs and greet their granddaughter who refuses to come out of the comfort she'd found nestled in your chest.

"I'll get the food out," Lando says, "I imagine you're all starving,"

"God, please." Flo whines, Oliver going to help his brother. You linger with the Norris parents in the hall, smiling softly as Athena lets out little snores against the warm fabric of your sweater. Savannah long gone after being dragged off by Mila.

Mrs. Norris moves into the kitchen, laughing as she scolds her sons for stealing bits of food while they bring everything out. The stack of bags and gifts flow down the hall now, the jackets and shoes overflowing the racks, and you can't help but smile at the liveliness of the once empty apartment.

"You're a real charmer," Adam says after a second and your attention is drawn to Mr. Norris. He grins, "Haven't seen Lando this organized in years."

You laugh softly, rubbing a soothing hand up and down Athena's back, "It's the least I could do for him, considering he won't let me pay rent. He's been really kind to let me live here."

"That's Lando for ya," Adam looks at his son in the kitchen, helping Mila get seated at the table, "He'd give you the skin off his back if he could."

As if sensing you both looking at him, Lando's head perks up, scowling as he comes over. He takes his father's jacket out of his hands and urges him to go get a plate of the food you'd 'slaved over' making all day in the kitchen. You can't help but giggle as he shoos away his father's knowing smile and wave as he goes to join his wife and kids.

"Thanks for saving this whole holiday," Lando looks over at you, catching the way you're already looking at him. A soft smile gracing your lips as you sway the toddler in your arms.

"Your family is lovely," you reply softly, "I'm glad I could do something for them."

Lando's quiet for a moment, the both of you just watching eachother. Turning back when Flo and Cisca start cracking up over some teasing thing Mrs. Norris is saying as Oliver scowls and rebukes whatever she's saying.

"Do you want a plate?" Lando says, "I can get mine last."

"No no, wouldn't want to wake Athena. I can always heat it up after she wakes." You wave a hand, and Lando nods, stepping closer to wipe a crumb off your cheek and brush a piece of hair back into place before Flo calls him over. You wave him on and he goes, making a spectacle about making his way back to the group.

Slowly, you make your way back into the living room, slowly sinking down on the couch and getting comfortable with Athena still snoring in your arms. And as the Norris' carry on in the kitchen, you can help but lay your head back on the cushions, cuddling in to the comfiest position you can find.

You fall asleep around the point Martha May announces her love for the Grinch, and right before Flo brings out Uno for the group at the table to play.

Lando comes over about twenty minutes later, pausing when he sees you knocked out. The rest of the family peeking around the corner as Lando grabs a blanket from the chair in the corner and walks over to where you are--Athena still snuggling into your hold. He gently drapes the blanket over the two of you, grabbing a pillow to lay under your head so your neck isn't killing you in the morning, and just takes a pause to sit next to you.

His eyes travel down your hair, to your closed eyes, parted lips, the soft breaths that leave you. The way Athena has tucked herself against your chest like she just knows you're safety, that you know how to take care of her. He lifts the blanket a little higher, resists the urge to press a chaste kiss to your forehead, and stands.

No one moves fast enough for him to not catch them staring.

"Looked like you were gonna kiss her for a second," His father chimes. Lando feels heat rise to his cheeks as his siblings laugh and he just waves away their comments as he comes back to play the game with them.

When Athena stumbles in to cuddle her mom about thirty minutes later, he peeks out to see you still asleep on the couch and tilts his head. Oliver leaning on the wall leaning into the living room as Lando steps forward, tucks his arms underneath you and carefully lifts you. It's not graceful by any means, but when your eyes flutter and you settle in as he holds his breath, Oliver bites his lip to keep himself from laughing at Lando.

"I'll get the door." Oliver says, nodding his head to where the spare bedroom is. His whole family pretends not to see him nearly whack your head into the wall when he brings you into your room and lays you on the bed. Mrs. Norris does come to ensure her son has you tucked in properly, with the blinds lowered to block out the setting sun as you curl up in your bed.

"Poor thing, she's absolutely knackered." She hums, waving Oliver out of the room as Lando sheepishly rubs his neck, walking over to her.

"She cooked all day, and we've spent the week decorating everything," his voice is soft as he looks over at your sleeping form in the bed, before his mother pulls him out of the room to shut the door.

"Well, she did a wonderful job." She winks knowingly at him, earning a shy laugh from Lando as she brings him back over to the table to keep playing games.

You do manage to get up and freshen up around nine, after his family has left to sleep off their jetlag. Lando's sitting on the couch with--surprisingly to you, Penelope.

"Max dropped her off, he and Kelly have dinner with their parents and P was supposedly exhausted." Lando pokes the girls cheek, but you can see she's clearly wide awake, sheepishly smiling up at you as you chuckle to yourself.

"I'm sure she was," You chime, sitting down at the counter as Penelope climbs up to sit next to you, leaning on you and looking up at you through her long lashes.

"I just didn't wanna go." Penelope admits softly, "All everyone's been talking about is the baby. I don't care about the stupid baby, I wish it was just me again, and I didn't have to fight this little thing in my Mommy's belly for some attention."

You hum, rubbing a hand up and down Penelope's back. She'd been complaining to you about the baby since you'd gotten back to Monaco, and you'd brought it up to Max and Kelly already. From the time spent in their apartment with them, you knew it wasn't their fault Penelope was feeling this way--after her first complaint. They'd both apologized to her, and explained it to her, and after that Penelope had been fine for a while.

But having every single person in your extended family fawning over the unborn baby in your mothers stomach--buying him tons of gifts and clothes, things Penelope was used to be doted onto her, the shift had to feel weird.

"Max and Kelly still love you," it's Lando who chimes from the couch, groaning as he stands up and stretched out his shoulders, "It's been hard for them with the baby coming, and you know how much the baby needs."

Penelope nods and you pout. Usually, Christmas Eve was reserved for the Verstappen-Piquets to spend the entire night together. But it seemed every one of their traditions had been tossed aside.

"How about this," you say softly, "I have some stuff left over to bake. Why don't you, Lando, and I make some cookies for Santa, hm? We can leave them out at your apartment when I drop you off."

Penelope does light up at that and agrees, so as Lando helps her get supplies, you finish shoveling your dinner into your mouth before standing to help them with baking.

By the end of it, after Penelope's roped you and Lando into a flour fight you know is going to be a disaster to clean up, you and Lando end up carrying up a sleeping Penelope and a plate of cookies. Max laughs softly at the sight of the three of you covered in flour, and Kelly thanks you both for staying up later to watch her.

When you return to Lando's apartment, the two of you elect to finish watching whatever movie is playing on the tv. And the quiet moment, broken by occasionally showing each other something on your phones or asking questions about this absolutely absurd 80s christmas movie, just fills the home with a sense of warmth you aren't expecting to feel.

It almost makes you not want to go to bed, but alas, the Norris' are coming back over in the morning, so you two duck off to bed eventually--hesitating to part due to the invisible magnet that holds you close.

SEE NOTES ABOUT TAG LISTS BELOW:

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@celestrablack @hadids-world @keij0h @annimausi

(thank you to all the new people (and my return readers ofc), and everyone who has left such kind words!! happy holidays to you all <3)

[im-ovulating]

For Kinktober: anything with Jasper Whitlock, but preferably size kink (short reader), voice kink, hand kink, and some on top of the clothes action / sex in the clothes. Choose all of it or one, I don't care, just having a brainrot about him: my ovaries explode every time I see this gif

(A/n: Kinktober Day 6/15! I wanted to keep all of this year's kinktober fics below 2.5k, but this one got away from me ;v;)

Word Count: 3,842

Summary- Well, you HAVE to take on his challenge -I mean, experiment. It's only the responisble thing to do as his study partner.

Warnings: Strip game, Fingering, PIV, Creampie, Cocky! Jasper, Not proofread

Age Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Jasper Whitlock x Fem! Reader: Study Buddy

----------------------

"Did you know that predators have front-facing eyes, but prey normally have eyes on the side of their faces?" You ask Jasper as you scan your textbook. He had agreed to help you study for an upcoming test. "It's because the prey has to be able to look out for danger."

Not only is evolutionary bio not your strongest subject, but your professor is an asshat so you really can't afford to fail this test.

"I did," he mumbles as he highlights a section that he thinks you should go through again. "Did you know that when two animals make eye contact, the first to look away is the submissive?" Jasper asks back.

"That's gotta be BS, right? What if one just doesn't want to look at the other's ugly mug?" Your retort is weak, but your tone has the confidence of a straight, cis, white man who's telling you what your own name means.

Jasper lets out a small, huffed laugh and finally looks up at you, warm gold meeting e/c. "I don't think animals think that way, darlin'."

"Are you an animal whisperer?" You snark, crossing your arms with a cocked eyebrow.

"Do you really think it's not real?" He gets back on topic. When you shake your head, he turns his chair towards you before doing the same to your own so you both face each other. "Really? Then, let's test that theory, hm? You seem pretty confident in yourself, so what's the harm?"

"I seem pretty confident because I am pretty confident." You mark your place and shut the textbook.

He chuckles with a small shake of the head. Leaning back in his chair with one arm thrown over the back, Jasper says, "Let's play a game."

"We're supposed to be studyin-" "It's a science experiment."

When you fall back against your seat, he continues. "We'll make eye contact, we'll stare at each other, and the first to look away loses. And if you lose..." he smirks a little, "you lose a piece of clothing. Best out of five wins."

You chew on your lip as you mull it over. You're confident that you can keep eye contact. And the submissive thing is bullshit, anyway, so it's not like your pride will take a hit. "So, strip poker but with a staring contest?" He nods.

"Exactly."

"...okay."

You meet Jasper's warm golden gaze, determination etched on your face. There's no way you're going to lose this little game of his.

"I know what's going to happen. You're going to give in; you can't take the pressure." You ignore him, zeroing on a small fleck of dark gold in his eyes to ground your thoughts.

As the seconds tick by, you resist the urge to look away, focused solely on holding Jasper's stare. His voice, low and smooth, sends shivers down your spine. "That's a good girl, keeping those pretty eyes on me."

Your breath catches at the sudden praise, your lips parting in a small, silent gasp. You won't let him distract you that easily, though. You're in it to win it.

Jasper's long, slender fingers drum lightly against his jean-clad thigh, drawing your gaze for just a moment before you force yourself to look back into his eyes. His lips curve into a knowing smirk.

It takes you a second to realize. "...fuck!"

"That's my round, darlin'." He goads.

With a small grumble and more force than necessary, you all but rip your socks off and throw them at his head. He catches them before they even get close. You're less coordinated in your attempt to dodge them, and all you can do is grumble more when they hit you square in the middle of your face.

"Stop looking so smug - there's still plenty of time for me to whoop your ass." You can't decide if you want to wipe that dumb-ass, unfairly charming smirk off his equally handsome face or if you want to pull him in and kiss him silly. Probably both... Yeah, both is good.

Jasper's eyes gleam with amusement as he watches your continued huffing and puffing. He leans back in his chair, his fingers still tapping against his leg.

"Don't be so sour, darlin'," he grins, his voice low and velvety smooth. "The game's just getting started."

You narrow your eyes at him, determined not to let his distracting voice and looks throw you off this time. "Just shut up and start the next round, Whitlock."

He chuckles, the sound rumbling deep in his chest, and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he holds your gaze. The air crackles with tension as you both refuse to back down, each daring the other to be the first to look away.

The seconds tick by, the only sound the quiet rhythm of your breathing. You can feel the weight of Jasper's stare, intense and captivating, drawing you in. Your pulse quickens, palms growing sweaty, but you refuse to lose again.

Just when you think you might actually win this round, Jasper's lips curve into a slow, predatory smile. "You know you want to look away. You want to give in, to submit; it's in your DNA. C'mon... Just look away, prove what we both already know: that when it comes down to it, you'd do nothing but roll over and show your belly..."

You roll your eyes in a subconscious attempt to ignore how his words, no matter how much they were shit talking, made your heart leap into your throat. With a triumphant smirk, Jasper declares, "My round again."

"That's not fair! You shouldn't be able to annoy me into losing!" You lie through your teeth about the true effect he's having on you.

Barking out a laugh, he says, "The only rule was that we can't look away. We never decided talking or touching were off limits. You lost fair and square, sugar, so lose an item."

"But-" "Three seconds before i decide which one," he interrupts with a cheeky grin. "and you might not like what I choose... Three. Two-" You let out a frustrated groan, quickly removing your shirt and tossing it to the side. His laughter only serves to further stoke the flames of your competitive spirit. "There we go! Good girl."

"I thought we're supposed to be studying." You try to feign nonchalance as you sit there, bra exposed and with only three items left. Technically, you're tied in terms of clothing remaining, but it's also not lost on you that it's currently 0-2 in Jasper's favor.

"We are studying; this is a science experiment, remember? Unless you're ready to admit that you're wrong AND that you're submissive. That would be quite the win on my end." Well, shit. Now you can't back out. You'll be damned if you let him have something to hang over your head.

"Just you wait, Whitlock," you snap, trying to regain your focus for the next round. "I'm just getting warmed up."

You narrow your eyes at Jasper, determined not to let him fluster you again. The stakes are higher now, but you've got this.

Taking a deep breath, you meet his gaze once again. The tension in the air is palpable as you both refuse to back down.

Jasper's lips curl into a challenging smirk, his long fingers still tapping a steady rhythm against his thigh. You force yourself to focus solely on his eyes, blocking out everything else.

Seconds turn to minutes as you hold his stare, your heartbeat thundering in your ears but you refuse to waver.

Just when you think you're finding a groove and might stand a chance at winning, Jasper leans forward, his voice low and sultry. "You're doing so well, darlin'. But I can see it in your eyes - you're starting to crack."

A shiver runs down your spine at his words, but you grit your teeth and push on. You will not lose this round, no matter what underhanded tactics he tries.

The room fills with an intensity that almost makes it hard to breath as you continue your silent battle of wills. Jasper's gaze is unwavering, a predatory gleam in his eyes that makes your breath catch and waver.

Jasper's hand suddenly moves, his fingers slowly inching up your thigh. Your eyes widen and your pulse quickens but you refuse to look away.

"Good girl," Jasper acknowledges, his cool touch burning through the fabric of your jeans. "Just keep your eyes on me."

His fingers continue their slow, tantalizing trek up your thigh, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. His gaze is electric, drawing you in despite your best efforts to maintain composure. Your heartbeat thunders in your ears, but you refuse to break eye contact, stubbornly holding his molten stare.

"Jasper…" you breathe, unable to keep the quiver out of your voice. His lips curve into a knowing smile, fingers inching higher.

"That's it, darlin'," his voice is low and velvety smooth. "Just focus on me. Don't look away. It should be easy for you, right? You're a strong, dominant girl, after all."

The temptation to give in, to let your eyes slip shut, is nearly overwhelming. But you dig deep, summoning every ounce of willpower to maintain the intense eye contact.

Jasper's hand reaches the waist of your jeans, his fingertips dancing along the sensitive skin just above. Your pulse quickens and a shiver runs down your spine.

"J-Jasper…" you stammer, grip tightening on the arms of your chair.

His eyes shine with a predatory gleam as he watches you. "C'mon, sugar. Just a little bit longer… You can do it. Keep those pretty eyes on me.

"Or you can look away, let me take these pants off." he adds with a self-satisfied smirk.

You know you're teetering on the edge, your resolve rapidly crumbling under the onslaught of his touch and his words.

The seconds stretch on, the tension in the room palpable. Jasper's fingers continue their torturously slow ascent, and you find yourself struggling to keep your focus on his eyes.

His fingers dance along the underwire of your bra, "And after that, I'll pull those panties off of you with my teeth; maybe dive right in and see if that pussy tastes as good as I think it does." Your eyes flutter shut as a white-hot spike of arousal shoots straight to your core. He pulls his hand away and when you reopen your eyes, you see a triumphant grin has spread across Jasper's face. "That's my girl." Your eyes widen as you realize - you've lost. Again.

"You've got two chances left. Still think you're going to win?" Jasper asks. "I'm sure you can do it. Right? You can turn it around. Round 4."

As you settle in for yet another round, he gets in another jab. "You're gonna break. You're going to and it's going to be really fast."

His hand returns to your thigh; this time it only takes a second for him to reach the hem of your panties, his fingers dancing along the elastic. You swallow harshly, but keep his gaze. "You're not even trying to fight it; you're just letting me touch you."

"You're gonna keep looking me in the eyes when I move your panties to the side and slide my fingers in, aren't you?" Your breath hitches. "No, don't lose yet. Come on, look at me. Don't look away, I don't want you to look away." It's hard to fight against the urge to hide your face but you manage. You can feel how hot your cheeks are, and you can only imagine the expression on your face.

"Good girl," Jasper murmurs. "Don't look away. Don't you dare look away." You start to squirm a little, clenching your thighs desperate for some friction. "Why are you turned on?" He teases, his fingers still threatening to dip under the thin fabric. "Is it because you're submissive and you like losing? There's fight and flight, but you... you freeze. And you're gonna let me take what I want."

He finally tugs your panties aside and dips two fingers into you. your teeth dig into your bottom lip as you try to focus. You're so wet you swear you can feel it dripping down towards your ass. Fuck this is embarrassing but you realize you'd rather die than stop now; you want this. You want to just let go and let him take and take and take.

You crave his touch, crave to be used by him.

Jasper's fingers crook up into a spot that has stars dancing in your vision. Somehow you manage to just barely keep your eyes on him.

"C'mon, don't lose. I only have three pieces of clothing; you can still win this..." he taunts. "Don't look away, don't look away. Don't look away. Don't lose. Come on, look at me in my eyes. Good girl- don't look away."

"There it is..." He muses, pressing his fingers into your g spot as your back arches away from your chair and a debauched moan rips from your throat. "You lose again, darlin'." He brings his hand up to his mouth to clean your arousal off his fingers.

You let out a frustrated whine, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. Jasper's smug grin only infuriates you further - he's clearly enjoying this power he has over you.

"That's not fair," you pant, your body still tingling from his touch. "You're cheating."

Jasper chuckles, leaning back in his chair as he examines you hungrily. "Darlin', I don't need to cheat to make you submit to me. You want this just as badly as I do. Like I said earlier- we never agreed 'no touching'."

You can only glare half-heartedly at him, knowing he's right.

"Hey," Jasper ducks his head to catch your eyes as you look at the ground to avoid his gaze. "You got one more. It's the last round. You're still in this; you can still win. You've got to get at least one piece from me. you can't lose every time - that would just be pathetic..." You go to smack his arm, but he avoids it.

With a resigned and frustrated sigh, you unhook your bra and let it fall to the floor. "Let's get this over with already." you grumble. you want this to end partly to stop the embarrassment of losing this badly, but mainly because the sooner this is over, the sooner you can fuck him.

As the final round starts, Jasper reaches up to grab your chin, tilting your head up to barely brush his lips against yours. His eyes never leave yours as he asks, "Why don't you just look away on purpose so I can take these off and fuck you?"

His other hand reaches down to press his thumb against your clit, causing your eyes to shut as you let loose a shaky moan. "Oh- you lost..." The grin he gives you can only be described as devilish.

Faster than you can process, he is picking you up by the thighs and setting you on the table.

True to his word, he drops to his knees between your legs and. after pressing a few possessive kisses along your belly and the apex of your thighs, he takes your panties between his teeth and starts to slide them off of you.

You shudder with anticipation as Jasper's cool breath ghosts over your most intimate area. With painstaking slowness, he tugs your panties down, revealing your glistening cunt. His eyes never leave yours, molten gold boring into your very soul.

A playful smirk graces his perfect lips as he tosses the flimsy fabric aside. Calloused hands caress the soft skin of your inner thighs, urging them to part further. You comply willingly, heart racing in excitement.

Jasper hums appreciatively, drinking in the sight of your exposed cunt. Leaning in, he trails feather-light kisses along your dripping folds, teasing you mercilessly. Just when you think you can't take the anticipation any longer, his talented tongue darts out, parting your swollen lips and delving deep.

An involuntary moan escapes your lips as pleasure courses through you. Jasper sets an agonizingly slow pace, savoring every twitch and tremble of your body. His hands grip your hips, holding you steady as he explores every inch of your most sensitive area. "Fuck, I knew you'd taste amazing..." His low groan vibrates against you and forces another small gasp to leave you.

Jasper's skilled tongue continues its agonizingly slow exploration, eliciting more breathless sighs and whimpers from you. His grip on your hips tightens as he senses your growing desperation for release.

With a low growl, he suddenly picks up the pace, licking and sucking with purpose. Your back arches as the coil of pleasure tightens, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

Just as you feel the first tremors of your impending climax, Jasper pulls away, leaving you panting and aching. He gazes up at you with hooded eyes, a smug expression on his face.

"Not yet, darlin'," he murmurs, his voice dripping with dark promise. "I have other plans for you."

Jasper's hands grip your hips firmly as he effortlessly maneuvers your body, guiding you to bend over the sturdy table. A gasp escapes your lips at the sudden change in position.

With your upper body pressed against the cool surface, you feel impossibly exposed and vulnerable. The long-forgotten books and scattered papers crinkle under your weight as Jasper's powerful frame looms over you, his presence radiating a primal dominance.

A shiver runs down your spine as his fingers trail along your spine, eliciting goosebumps in their wake. Leaning in close, he places a series of searing kisses along the back of your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin before pulling back and undressing.

Trembling with anticipation, you arch your back, silently begging for more of his touch. Jasper growls low in his throat, the primal sound sending a shiver down your spine. His large palms slide up your sides, calloused fingers caressing the curve of your waist.

You whimper, desperate for him to finally fuck you.

Jasper chuckles, the deep rumble of his voice sending sparks of desire through your body. "So impatient," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "Don't worry, sugar, I'm just getting started."

Jasper's grip on your hips tightens as he slowly, teasingly, presses his body against yours. You can feel the hard lines of his muscles and you ache to have him inside you. His hands slide up your sides, caressing and exploring your body.

Finally, after what feels like ages, he lines his cock up with your sopping pussy and starts to press in.

You gasp, arching your back as the head of his cock teases your entrance. "Jasper!" You moan, shuddering with anticipation.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he slides into you, inch by delicious inch. You feel every millimeter of his legnth as he fills you up, stretching and claiming you. His grip on your hips tightens, and you can feel the way his forearms bulging as he struggles to maintain control.

"Fuck," he growls, finally bottoming out inside you. He holds still for a moment, his lips pressing against your neck as he regains his breath.

Then, without warning, he begins to move, pulling almost all the way out before plunging back in with a force that takes your breath away. Over and over, he thrusts into you, his hips slapping against yours in a rhythm that is both primal and possessive.

You drop your head to the table, letting out a long, keening cry as you feel his cock hit your sweet spot, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. "Jasper!" You cry out, your voice echoing in the room.

His hands move to your breasts, tweaking and pinching your nipples as he fucks into you harder and faster. You can feel the heat building between your legs, the sensation growing more intense with each passing moment.

"I knew you were a submissive little thing," he says between grunts. "We could've gotten here a lot quicker if you had just dropped the act earlier, darlin'." You can feel his shit eating grin against your shoulder.

"Really?" you gasp out, body sliding against the table with each thrust. "You want to argue about that now?"

His chuckle is low in your ear. "Just making a point, sugar." Jasper presses a kiss to the space just behind your ear before leaning back and fucking into you harder.

The rough wood of the table bites into your shoulders, but you don't care. All that matters is the feeling of him inside you, claiming you.

"Jasper," you moan, your voice filled with pleasure and desperation. "I need… I need you to cum inside me." You beg, your back arching impossibly more as he reaches around to toy with your clit.

He picks up the pace even more, slamming into you over and over again. "Almost there, doll," he says, his voice rough with lust. "Just wait for it."

You clench around him, trying to draw him deeper inside you. The sensation is almost too much to bear, but you're so, so close.

You feel your body tense and then release in a wave of pure pleasure. Your muscles clench around Jasper's cock, milking him as you experience your orgasm. A loud moan escapes your lips, and your hips buck against the table unconsciously. Sweat beads on your forehead, and your skin feels flushed with heat.

As your climax subsides, you feel a cool rush between your legs. Jasper's release. He groans deeply, his body shuddering against yours.

After a minute of him staying plastered to your back, keeping you bent over the table, you feel him slowly pull out of you, and you can't help but whimper in disappointment.

"Don't give me any of that, doll," Jasper gently chides. He scoops you up in his arms, cradling you against his chest. You wrap your legs around him, holding onto him tightly. The chill of his skin against your heated sex is comforting, soothing the ache.

He carries you to the couch, setting you down gently before standing up and pulling his boxers on and heading into the kitchen. While he's gone, you take the opportunity to catch your breath and compose yourself. When he returns, he has a damp cloth. He gently cleans between them, his touch soft and careful as he wipes up the remnants of your tryst. Neither of you speak as he cares for you, reveling in the comfortable silence that blankets the both of you.

Once your cleaned up, he helps you redress; he helps you pull your panties back on along with his shirt. He scoops you up into his arms again as he lays on the couch. As you curl against him once more, he kisses the top of your head. "There's my good girl," he whispers. "I've got you."

[universalboyslut]

One of my biggest fantasies is being spitroasted by two guys, specifically one cis and one trans

Getting stretched out and railed and praised from behind while the tboy mocks me for being such a slut and pulls my face up by my hair only to force me down on his cunt, moaning into it as I eat him out like the whore I am. Later he watches his boyfriends cum leak from me and pushes it back in with a thumb, smirking

Maybe they swap, now a strap or tdick in my ass as I choke on a thick cock. I'm still getting ruined, praised and degraded at the same time. Cumming over and over for them but unable to give any warning with my mouth always occupied

Maybe theyre a couple and I'm just their good little toy, something with a few holes they can use to get off. Maybe none of this was ever my choice, but being constantly filled turns my brain off too much for me to care

[gaogaigoatgrrl]

i hope that in the wake of predstrogen/predesterone's back-to-back deletion we don't forget about the ongoing building wave of seemingly organic transmisogyny from the userbase leading up to it, some of which may or may not have been the result of terf psyops but all of which certainly wouldn't have been possible without the eager participation of a significant proportion of users, including but probably not limited to:

the entire concept of transandrophobia (if this offends you, think long and hard about why you want so badly for it to be real)

the ongoing backlash against the terms tme and tma (if they offend you, think long and hard about why they might have practical value to trans women and people with similar social positionality)

the ongoing trend of trans women's blogs getting flagged on the flimsiest of pretenses and generally receiving far more scrutiny for "adult content" than anyone else's

the seeming unironic revival of "baeddel" as a slur for outspoken trans women, on the basis of a long-dead clique that, ironically enough, self-applied the long-dead (and tbf, etymologically questionable) slur from the middle ages to reclaim it

the entire "trans women should be fucking trans men instead of complaining about transmisogyny" genre of post

the backlash when tgirls finally started calling out the aforementioned bullshit

the copypasted anons sent to several trans women (many of whom were lesbians) sexually harassing them and threatening corrective rape for calling out the aforementioned bullshit

the backlash when tgirls called the aforementioned bullshit sexual harassment

the expansion of flexible queer label use (which to be clear, i am generally all for) to include "afab trans women", muddying the waters and making transmisogyny harder to articulate

the backlash when tgirls started calling out the aforementioned bullshit

the aita incident in which a trans woman described a cis woman claiming to be a trans woman in a group chat and giving other trans women terrible medical advice based on no actual qualifications or experience, and got a huge backlash for warning them about the aforementioned bullshit despite the stakes of, you know, following terrible medical advice

everything from the sixth point onward happened within the past... week? two weeks? my sense of time is a bit fuzzy. who knows what the rest of this week has in store?

people on this website are so incredibly hostile to trans women even being able to name our own oppression, let alone resist it in any concrete way. and i know it's not just this website. don't you get tired of the crab bucket bullshit? holy fucking shit.

like, i've been lucky, i've overwhelmingly managed to dodge it (probably on account of frankly being a pretty boring and inconsistent poster). this time last year, i was actually bored that i didn't have anons in my inbox to argue with. but i've seen it happen to so many other women now, it's absurd. even if it never hits you personally, you can never shake the awareness that it's happening to so many of the cool girls on here, people you like and whose posts you laugh at and who you look up to. they just kinda seem to drop like flies over time. don't you get tired?

[badkitty3000]

Five Hargreeves NSFW Headcanons

Ok, so here are some smutty headcanons that I have developed for Five over time. Obviously, this is my personal version and if you’ve read any of my stories, you will recognize a lot of these! Also, these are intended to be with a female partner, even though I feel like Five could be with any gender or orientation. If he’s attracted to a person and has a connection with them, that’s all that matters. I just write him with cis women because that’s what I am and that’s what I know. Let me know if you think I missed any! 😊

Warnings: Smut! Sex! Turn back if you don't want smut!

Let’s start with relationships: Five does not have the patience, nor the inclination, to care about most people outside of his immediate family. He knows he’s smarter (a lot smarter) than the average human, and spending more time than he needs to with someone else and their tiny brain is highly irritating. He does not have a lot of friends and doesn’t feel the need for any. That does not mean he isn’t attracted to women and doesn’t notice them. He most definitely notices. And once in a while he may indulge in a drunken fling here and there. However, when he meets that one woman that lights a fire in him, then it's game over. He’s done for, head over heels, no one will ever come close, in love for all eternity. He’s not going to fall for just anyone, either. Aside from having a body that he wants to fuck all day for the rest of his life, you also have to be smart. And witty. And not put up with any of his shit. Just because he’s in love with you, does not mean he’s not going to slip up sometimes and say or do something to piss you off. But when you come back at him with some major attitude and fight, he will end up loving you even more. Five needs a spicy woman to put him in his place sometimes.

Blow Jobs: Holy shit, this man loves a good blow job! Nothing makes him hotter than watching you service him. He wants to shove you down on your knees and watch intently as you take him all the way into your mouth until his cock hits the back of your throat. And if you can handle it, he’s going to fuck your face. Grab your hair in his fist and thrust himself into you until you’re gagging and drooling, tears running down your cheeks. Maybe he’ll come down your throat, maybe he won’t. He’ll let you know first, though. But if you’re going to be in a relationship with him, you better get used to having his dick in your mouth.

Cunnilingus: He may want you to suck his cock, but he’s more than willing to pay back the favor. In fact, Five wants to eat you out like the starving man he once was. Your taste and your scent drives him wild and he’ll take as long as you need. In fact, sometimes, he won’t stop even if you want him to. You can be begging him to stop and to fuck you instead, but he’ll just hold you down by your hips and look up at you with that knowing smirk of his; his mouth shining with your juices, and shake his head. Denied. Then he’s back at it, sucking and licking and fucking your pussy with his tongue until you’re a shuddering, crying mess, and your back is arching off the bed.

Orgasms: Continuing on that theme, Five will not come until you have, at least once but preferably a couple of times. He considers this a personal challenge, and he’s going to do everything in his power to make sure you’re screaming and shaking before he’s satisfied enough to let himself go. Ok, sure, there are times when maybe he does not perform as amazingly as he’d like. Times when you drive him so fucking crazy with the way you’re writhing underneath him and looking at him with that sexy little pout of yours that he can’t hold back. He’ll feel guilty about it afterwards, though, so once he’s able to think straight again, he’ll make sure you’re taken care of.

Daddy kink: This is it, guys. The big one. The thing that he absolutely goes fucking crazy over. You want Five to lose his mind over you? Sit on his lap and call him Daddy. Purr it seductively next to his ear while you run a hand down his chest. Remind him of it when you’re on your knees, looking back up at him with wide, innocent eyes, as you slowly unbuckle his belt. Moan it loudly just before he makes you come. Odds are, he’s going to be the older one in the relationship, so it just plays into his preferred role of the man in charge. He is the Daddy, here, and don’t you fucking forget it.

Cum: He wants you either covered in it or filled with it. Five loves nothing more than to come inside of you, watching his load drip out of you, dripping down your legs or pooling on the sheets underneath you. But sometimes he can’t control himself, taking matters into his own hands, and covering your tits or your ass in ropes of his cum. Seeing his semen all over you lights up that feral part of his brain because it reminds him and you who you belong to. He usually does this when he’s not thinking clearly, and then will feel badly afterwards, especially if he didn’t tell you he was going to do it in the first place. You’ll have to tell him it’s ok and that you don’t mind; that you liked it, actually. After he feels better about himself, he’ll quickly blink into the bathroom and grab a washcloth or tissues to help clean you up.

Dominance: Obviously, Five likes to be the one calling the shots. He is going to tell you, or more likely order you, to do what he wants. Whether he wants you riding him hard and fast, or on your hands and knees so he can fuck you from behind, he’ll let you know. Or maybe he’ll just throw you around, no words needed, until he’s got you where he wants you. He wants to overpower you, hold you down, pin you against a wall, flatten you with his body on top of yours. He wants to grip your wrists tightly in his hands and shove your legs apart with his knees. You are his to do with what he wants, but that’s only because he knows that’s what you like. It might not even be anything rough or physical that shows he’s in charge. It could be a subtle look in your direction, or a small command of “Come here” or “No” to your request that has you weak in the knees and doing whatever he wants. You might have him wrapped around your finger in every other aspect of your relationship, but inside the bedroom he is the boss.

Submission: There is one tiny little caveat to that dominance thing. Once in a while, you get to be in charge. Yes, he likes to be the dominant one, but he’s also up for being the sub every now and then. Maybe it’s a spur of the moment thing that you hesitantly try, and for some reason, he’s into it that day. Maybe he’s really pissing you off and he needs to be reminded that you are not a doormat for his temper tantrums and misplaced rage. This is when things can really get fun. Now you get to order him around, and he’s going to listen. Make him to eat you out until you tell him to stop. Tie him up with his own necktie and make him really work for it. Tease him until his cock is so hard and leaking that he’s squirming and begging you to fuck him. Rub your wet pussy up and down his shaft, but don’t let him in, until he’s whining like a little bitch and you laugh before finally giving in. Call him a good boy and slap his ass. He will do it all for you, because he loves you. And maybe because he secretly likes it, too. And when it’s all over, he will pretend that it was a one-time deal and you are dreaming if you think that’s ever going to happen again. You know better, though.

Dirty talk: Oh boy, he’s a talker. Not only does Five like the sound of his own voice, he wants to hear yours, too. He is going to lay out his entire dirty plan for you, in detail, out loud while he gets started. Then, he’s going to share with you each of the thoughts running through his head during the act, as well. It all depends on his mood and whether he’s being rough or soft, demanding or sweet. “Fuck me harder” “You’re so tight, you feel amazing” “God damn it, I never want to stop fucking you” “You’re so beautiful” “I love you” “You’re all I need” He’s not shy about what he wants to hear from you, either. “Tell me who you belong to” “Whose cock do you want inside of you?” “Tell me how I make you feel” He wants to hear all of it. There may be a few times where he orders you to stay quiet while he teases and fucks you hard, but that won’t stop him from chattering away himself. Unless he’s got some severe laryngitis going on, you are going to hear A LOT from Five Hargreeves during sex.

Rough Sex: Yes! He wants to fuck you into the mattress, or wall, or floor, or whatever surface he can find. But not in a violent or cruel way; he knows how you like it and he’s going to deliver. He’s going to make getting your pussy pounded into oblivion feel amazing. Shoving his cock inside of you, your leg thrown over his shoulder, sweat forming on his body, hair flopping in his eyes, jaw set in concentration as he rams into you over and over until you are screaming. He loves you, he’ll remind you, as he flips you over onto all fours and continues to fuck you so perfectly that you won’t be able to think or walk straight for a week. We’re talking hair-pulling, ass-slapping, sucking and biting until you’re bruised kind of rough.

Sweet/slow Sex: Also yes! Five likes it rough sometimes, but he also likes to take his time with you. He loves you, you are his entire world, and he just can’t believe you love him, too. So, he will cover your body with soft kisses, caressing every part of you while he tells you how gorgeous you are. He will worship your body, because to him you are the most perfect woman in the world. He will never love anyone else but you, and as he fucks you slow and rhythmically, with your legs and arms wrapped tightly around him, he will gaze lovingly into your eyes and tell you so.

Insecurities: We all know Five is the most confident man in the room. He’s arrogant and bossy, and isn’t afraid of anything or anyone. But, he has a lot of trauma, and with that comes shame, and regret, and feelings of inadequacy. Most people don’t know this about him. Most people except for you. With you, he let’s his guard down. He is safe with you and he can finally be himself. When the nightmares come, or the panic attacks, or just the overwhelming thoughts of self-doubt that plague him, he turns to you for comfort. Sometimes that means just lying there with you in the dark, as he lays his head on your chest and you give him soft kisses and run your fingers through his hair. Other times, he may need more than that. Because he needs to feel you, all of you, to make sure you are real. His touches and kisses will lead to more, and it all has to do with love and not lust, and his vulnerability with you. You are his lifeline to the only real happiness he knows and he’s terrified of it being ripped away from him again. He will bury his face in the crook of your neck while he thrusts slowly into you, kissing you softly and trying desperately not to shed the tears that are already making their way down his face. He wants to hear you say you’ll never leave him because he doesn’t want to be alone. And when you reassure him over and over with more kisses and whispers of how much you love him, he will eventually relax once more.

Names: Five loves to give you pet names. Sometimes they give a sense of his dominance over you, or may even be sarcastic if he’s being a jerk (sweetheart and honey can sound completely different depending on his tone). Other times they are just a form of his love for you and even if they are old fashioned (darling, my love, etc), you love hearing them from him. He likes to have a special name for you that no one else calls you, too. And he generally saves a couple just for sexy times (“go on baby, come for me”) that he knows drives you crazy. You can have pet names for him, too, and you love knowing you are the only one that can get away with that.

His own name: Along the same lines, Five wants to hear you say his name. When you’re whispering it quietly as he’s trailing kisses down your neck. As you’re whining and begging pitifully when he teases you and holds out on you instead of just fucking you like you want. And especially when you are screaming his name so loud the neighbors down the street can hear. It totally plays into his ego to have you moaning his name while he’s making you lose your mind with his cock or his fingers. Once you start sobbing and crying out his name in pure ecstasy, he’s probably not going to be able to last much longer because that is music to his ears. But if you really want to kick it up a notch and pretty much guarantee he’s going to be violently coming inside of you in a matter of seconds, use his full name. Throwing in a ‘Number Five’ is like an automatic switch for him and its game over.

Loud sex: Continuing on…he wants you loud. This goes along with the dirty talk and moaning his name. He wants to hear you. He wants the neighbors to hear you. He wants the whole god damn city to hear you. And he wants everyone to know just who is fucking you. Maybe it will make run-ins with neighbors at the mailbox a little awkward in the morning, but Five doesn’t really give a shit. He wants his girl screaming so loud for him that it’s a wonder the cops don’t get called. And he’ll wear that badge of honor proudly, just adding to the other list of things he knows he’s the fucking king of.

Kissing: Five loves kissing you. He can’t get enough of it. Yes, he loves fucking and everything else sex-related, but kissing is always incorporated, even with the roughest of sex. Remember, this man is touch starved, but he also doesn’t like most people touching him. You are the exception. The fact that he has found someone to love and that loves him in return is nothing short of a miracle for him. So, kissing you and being kissed by you, is heaven. You can feel all of his love and desire for you in those kisses, whether they are soft and gentle, or hungry and desperate. He kisses you in the morning and when you leave for the day. He kisses you when you come home and before you go to sleep. Sometimes when you’re just standing there, washing dishes, or sitting reading a book, you will look so cute to him that he can’t help himself and he’ll tilt your face up towards him with a hand on your chin and kiss you until you want to melt into a puddle at his feet. He will also ask you to kiss him, stopping you as you walk by him by taking your hand and pulling you in close, an arm around your waist. “Kiss me. Please,” he’ll say quietly with the most innocent looking face and your heart will break for him. It’s the please that gets you. But he really doesn’t need to ask, because you will never not want to give him as many kisses as he needs.   

Masturbation: If anyone is an expert in jerking off, it’s Five Hargreeves. How could he not be? It was him and his hand/Dolores for 45 years, and a guy has needs. Would he prefer your mouth or your pussy to stick his dick in? Absolutely. But sometimes you’re not available, or the timing isn’t right, or you’re not in the mood. In which case, Five knows exactly how to efficiently and quickly rub one out and then go about his day. He loves to watch you finger yourself, though. Especially when he makes you tell him who you are thinking of while you’re doing it (always him). He also has no shame in masturbating in front of you while you are taking care of yourself. Sitting there, nonchalantly and slowly stroking his hard cock while he watches you play with yourself, maybe giving you directions while you do it. It’s just one of the ways he reminds you who’s in charge.

Praise: Yes, he will praise you for being a good girl. This kind of goes hand in hand with the Daddy kink. “Be a good girl for Daddy,” he’ll tell you while slowly running the back of his hand down your cheek. If you follow his directions, he will give you all the praise you deserve. “Such a good girl, taking it so well for me” “That’s my good girl” “That’s right baby, you’re perfect” “You’re doing so good, just a little longer sweetheart” He might be demanding you suck his cock or flinging you around like a ragdoll on the bed and fucking you senseless, but he will always tell you how good you are being for him. Like the perfect gentleman he is.

Appearance: This includes body type, clothing, lingerie, hair, and make-up. Five does not have a specific body type per se. If he finds you attractive, he finds you attractive, end of story. He may have a slight preference towards nice boobs and a tight ass, but that’s just on a superficial basis. Chubby tummy? Thick thighs? Flat chest? Bony elbows and knees? He does not care. If he loves you, then you’re the most beautiful woman in the world and he wouldn’t want you any other way. He does love a tight skirt and high heels, though. Watching your ass bounce along while you sashay your hips in front of him will have him wishing he could blink you away somewhere private, flip that skirt up, and take care of business. And if you whisper in passing that you’re not wearing any underwear, he just might. Five loves you fully naked, sprawled out just for him. But his brain misfires a few times when he sees you in sexy lingerie. A lace bra, tight corset, thong panties, or even just a skimpy little tank top has him drooling and stumbling all over himself in an effort to get his dick under control. Wearing a sexy outfit like this is a good way to make him the submissive one, because he will do anything for you at this point. It’s actually pretty hilarious to see him at a loss for words for once, jaw on the floor, and licking his lips at just the sight of you. A flustered Five is the best. He doesn’t have much preference for hair style, as long as there’s enough to grab in his fist when you’re blowing him. Same goes for make-up. The only exception to that is lipstick. Five loves when you wear red lipstick for him. He likes to see the trail it makes over his body as your lips kiss and suck him all over. He loves to see it smudged all over your mouth, on his face, and on his cock. It’s just one of those things that reminds him that you are all his.

Possessiveness: Which brings us to this. Five can be a little possessive. Not in a “you’re not going anywhere without me" kind of way. He’s not at all like that. But he does like to remind you now and then who exactly you belong to. That body is only for him to touch, and kiss, and fuck. He doesn’t get jealous, because there’s nothing to be jealous over. He trusts you and you trust him. You are independent and have your own life outside of him, and that’s just one of the reasons he loves you. But he does get territorial, and there’s a difference. If another man puts a hand on you and you don’t like it, or someone propositions you in some way, well then they are in for a real big fucking awakening. Five may try to keep his assassin instincts to himself most of the time, but if he sees some random guy disrespecting you, things are going to get ugly. He may not even need to use any actual physical force or violence. Just the threat of it is usually enough. But if that doesn’t work, and the stupid moron isn’t backing down, well, that’s their own fault. There will be a fake, saccharine smile, and a derisive chuckle as the last warning. Then the poor bastard will find himself either punched in the mouth or facedown in the dirt with a foot on his back while being forced to give a teary apology for his treatment of you. If he were ever faced with the need, Five would kill for you. No questions asked. You’re in real danger? He won’t think twice about putting a bullet into some dude’s skull. Luckily, a few clever insults, some well-timed blinks, and a swift kick to the jaw are all he really needs to get his point across. Then afterwards, he’ll take you home and fuck your brains out, because you are his and he is yours, and you wouldn’t want it any other way.  

[aftertheleaving]

Not A Threat

Pairing: Damian Wayne x Reader

Genre: Light humor, fluff, slow-burn setup(kinda), soft enemies to lovers(again kinda), workplace antics

Warnings: swearing, caffeine abuse, reader is unbothered and slightly feral, Damian is suffering (but not really), no plot just vibes

Notes: for @ur-mums-house, who is my sleepy muse and deserves a fic where Damian gets emotionally steamrolled by a tech intern. Anyway I totallyyyy didn't find this while scrolling through all my drafts that I never posted (this is like from forevrrrrr ago when i told myself i'd start posting but never did). 🙃

1, 2, 3

You’re halfway through your fourth energy drink and at least eight hours into the worst debugging sprint of your life when you crack into a corrupted server cluster and find a file labeled:

"batcave_logs_alpha / GraySon_Phase02 / CodedAssets_v3"

Your first thought is:

Oh my god, they named a prototype ‘Grayson’? What is this, an anime?

Your second:

Cool. More dumb WayneTech documentation. Maybe I can finally go home.

So you click it.

And twenty seconds later, after bypassing a laughably weak encryption key (seriously, who still uses birthday codes?), you’re staring at a directory full of what are clearly mission logs. From vigilantes. Who operate out of a cave. With bats.

You lean back, sip your drink, and sigh.

“Well. That explains so much about this company.”

You don’t tell anyone—not because you’re scared, but because you’re underpaid, overworked, and Jenkins is still crashing. You simply do not have time for Batman’s extracurriculars.

Which is why, when you return from lunch the next day and find Damian Wayne himself waiting at your desk like a final boss, you groan out loud.

“You accessed a restricted directory,” he says flatly.

You drop into your seat. “Congrats. Want a cookie?”

He stares. “That information is classified.”

“So is the state of your backend infrastructure,” you reply, pulling up your terminal. “Your firewalls are like, held together with duct tape and prayer. You’re lucky I didn’t accidentally trigger a missile.”

He’s silent for a beat. You look at him, smirk creeping across your face.

“Oh wait,” you say, “I’m supposed to act shocked, right?”

You cup your hand around your mouth and whisper dramatically, “You know who.”

Damian visibly restrains the urge to walk into traffic.

“I’m not gonna tell anyone,” you assure him, typing lazily. “I’m too busy fixing Jenkins and wondering if I can make rice in a coffee pot. I have bigger problems.”

“…What is Jenkins?” he mutters.

“A CI tool,” you say. “It breaks. Constantly. Like you, apparently.”

He mutters something in Arabic that you think is an insult, but you’re too caffeinated to care.

“Besides,” you say, grinning, “You’re kinda short for a terrifying vigilante.”

“I am five-foot-five.”

“Sure”

A few days later…

You see him again, lurking in R&D like a disgruntled gargoyle.

You walk right up to him. “I have an idea.”

He immediately sighs. “No.”

You grin and hand him a rolled-up blueprint. “It’s a modular shock baton with thermal sensing and EMP shielding. Built it on my break. While eating a sandwich.”

He unrolls it and—you see the exact second he realizes it’s actually… good. Really good.

“This is—” he starts, then stops. Glares at you. “You should not be this capable.”

“Aw,” you say, patting his shoulder, “is that your way of saying thank you?”

“I said no such thing.”

“You did in spirit.”

“…Why are you like this?”

You smile, eyes glinting. “You’re fun to mess with.”

I think I’m actually dying. I was working on a Tim fic, minding my business, and then I got a comment from ur-mums-house and genuinely tweaked. Like. Fully spiraled. So then I went rummaging through the massive (for some reason??) collection of fics I’ve written and never posted, searching for anything Damian-related for ur-mums-house—and now here we are. Okay. Gonna go back to working on my Tim fic now. Bye bye 👋 .

[lxkeee]

MY LOVE, IS MINE ALL MINE

PART TWO

pairing: Lucifer x fem! reader

fandom: hazbin hotel

genre: fanfiction

notes: lmaoo sorry it took awhileee I'm actually a very busy college student while simultaneously having so much brainrot for this man so... Be patient omfg, I just posted part one a two days ago 😭 also, don't mind the warnings too much as it doesn't specifically for this specific chapter but it can be future parts of the story. So yes, hand holding before marriage will happen between Lucifer and [y/n]

warnings: none except hand holding before marriage lmao.

PART ONE | PART THREE

The princess of hell along with her girlfriend was just settling in the guest room heaven provided for them temporarily as they had an important meeting with them.

Charlie and Vaggie stopped talking as their was a knock on their door, “Who do you think is it?” Charlie asked and Vaggie shrugged and Charlie decided to open the door.

There stood a rather tall female angel with three pairs of wings and a golden halo on her head, the short white dress accompanied by gold compliments the woman's figure beautifully.

Safe to say both Charlie and Vaggie were mesmerized, the woman before them was drop dead gorgeous. Though, Vaggie was still cautious, despite a former angel, she doesn't know who this woman is as some seraphim angels tend to not show themselves to the lower ranking aside from Sera.

“Are you Princess Charlotte? The daughter of Lucifer?” the woman asked with her [e/c] eyes sparkling in excitement, the woman quickly placed her hands over her mouth in embarrassment, “Oh! Sorry for the intrusion, I forgot to introduce myself,” she says with a small smile before giving the two girls a curt bow, “My name is [y/n], a seraphim. It's a pleasure to meet you two.”

Charlie gave her a big grin, giving the woman a curt bow. The princess of hell decided to trust her as she couldn't sense any bad intentions from the older woman and to her, the name [y/n] sounded awfully familiar, she just forgot where she had heard it before. “It is so nice to meet you, I am Charlotte but you can call me Charlie.” Charlie said and [y/n] just grinned as Vaggie decided to just watch the two, still cautious. The older woman's eyes landed on Vaggie and she gave her a grin, “And who might you be?” she asked her and Vaggie just glared at her before avoiding her gaze, “Vaggie.”

[Y/n] just grins, her eyes analyzing the gray haired woman before letting out a small hum before shifting her gaze to the princess. [Y/n]'s heart ached a little to see how much the girl looked exactly like her father. [Y/n] misses him, she wished she did something that could have prevented his fall. Regrets always comes last. She took a deep breath then once more wore a bright smile on her face. Charlie noticed the shift of her mood but decided not to question it.

“So Charlie, I came here as I was curious what your plan for hell is about.” [y/n] says softly, she wasn't there during the meeting Lucifer requested for hell and this time, she promised to be there for his daughter instead. Charlie's eyes sparkled excitedly, excited that an angel aside from that bitch ass Adam would finally listen to her. “Really?!” The princess asked excitedly and [y/n] can only let out a soft chuckle, “Of course, why don't we take a walk while you tell me about it? Your friend can join us too.”

Charlie calmed down and gave the older woman a smile, “Vaggie here is actually my girlfriend.” she says, expecting the older woman to judge her but she was surprised when [Y/n] just ruffled her hair. “My apologies, I didn't know.”

The younger girls were surprised, that an angel didn't show any disgust to their relationship and she even looked like she approved.

“Now then, how about that walk?”

“And that's what I'm planning, I wished for my people to find redemption and join heaven.” Charlie explained softly, taking a bite of her strawberry cheesecake. Both [y/n] and Charlie sat in a rather peaceful cafe in heaven, angelic sigils circling around them as [y/n] casted them for their privacy. [Y/n] can only smile as she listens to the younger girl who rambles about her plans for her people, [y/n] can't help but remember how similar Charlie is to her father, oh heavens... She missed him so much.

Vaggie didn't join them unfortunately, she said that she wanted to rest a little bit in the guest room.

[y/n] gracefully placed down the cup of coffee she was sipping and gently wiping her lips with a napkin, “That is truly admirable Charlie, to see you have so much hope for your people really reminds me of your father. I really hope it will come to life.” the compliment was almost enough for Charlie to burst into tears, to hear someone praise her plans and believe in it, it felt like a mother praising her.

Though, she was able to stop her tears as she realizes something. Reminds me of your father. [Y/n] and her dad knew each other.

Then Charlie remembers, the stories her dad told her about heaven and the stories he told her about his closest angel friend—the only one who believed in him. She remembers thinking that she felt her dad loved that angel in one way or another, with how fondly he spoke of her—with so much adoration.

“I remember now, you were my father's best friend!” Charlie gasped, a hand over her mouth and [y/n] can only chuckle, a hint of sadness in her eyes. “Were? I still think of him as my best friend.” She chuckles softly, “Though, I don't blame him if he doesn't think the same way as I wasn't able to help him back then.” she continues sadly and Charlie had to wave her arms around to stop her, “Nonono, my father doesn't think like that. You're still his best friend.” Charlie reassured the older woman.

“Really now? How is he these days? I haven't heard from him after so many eons.” [y/n] asked softly with a slight chuckle and Charlie can only sigh with a small smile on her face, “Well... He's still how he usually is. Kind, trying his best for me, and lately he had an obsession with making rubber ducks.” she says with a small giggle making the older woman chuckle, “Thay sounds like him, though surprised that he still loved ducks. He used to ramble to me about random duck facts when he was still here. He was such a dork, I truly missed him.” [y/n] says with a chuckle, a longing look in her eyes.

Charlie was able to put two and two together, her father and this woman loved each other and she can only assume they didn't confess in the fear of ruining their friendship. Charlie loves her parents but a part of her is hoping in a different universe, her father and [y/n] are happy together.

Charlie decided not to mention it to the woman and just continued hanging out with the older woman. “I am sure he misses you too.”

“The meeting will start in a few hours and Charlie?” [y/n] says softly before summoning a wax sealed white envelope out of thin air, gold sparkling from where the envelope is as it slowly falls into her hands. Charlie looked at her in curiosity, “Can I ask you a favor?” [y/n] asked her hesitantly and Charlie just nodded, “Of course!”

“Can I ask you a favor of delivering this letter to Lucifer?” She asked and gently extended her hand towards the younger girl in which the girl accepted the letter and placed it in her chest pocket. “Of course! My father would be delighted to hear from you.”

“Thank you, Charlie. I appreciate it dearly.” [y/n] smiled softly as she stood up from her seat, extending her hand to help the hell princess up from her seat. “Now, let me walk you back to your room so you can get ready for your meeting.”

Now the princess of hell wishes the other angels were just as understanding as [y/n]. Even though the meeting didn't go as planned, she felt reassured as both Emily and [y/n] were there in the court room.

“What are we even talkin' about? Some crack-whore who fucked up already? He blew his shot, like the cocks in his mouth. This discussion is senseless and petty.” Lute sneers with an annoyed glare, putting on her mask. Though, Charlie can feel her patience thinning, her eyes glaring at the angels.

The other angels looking down on the scene happening below, [y/n] looking worried for her while glaring at Adam and Lute. “There's no question to be posed, he's unholy, case closed. Did you forget that 'Hell is forever'?” Adam and Lute sang mockingly and [y/n] could feel her anger starting to boil. She always hated Adam, that egoistical prick, she looked up at Sera as if asking her to stop this nonsense.

“A man only lives once, we'll see you in one month. Gotta say, I can't wait to—” Adam sang and [y/n] noticed Sera getting worried, “Adam.” Sera says sternly but it seems the man was too busy to hear her, “Come down and exterminate you!”

At that moment, loud ringing was only what [y/n] heard as she was shocked to hear him say that. Exterminate...? Don't tell me...? [Y/n] asked herself before glaring at Sera, the other angels were also shocked by the reveal.

“Wait!” Emily exclaimed, shocked by the reveal and Adam just noticed his slip up, “Shit.”

“What are you saying? Let me get this straight, you go down there and kill those poor souls?” Emily asked, horrified as she slowly flies down towards Charlie, holding her hand, “You didn't know?” Charlie asked and Emily shook her head. “Whoops!” Adam says, not a care in the world, “Guess the cat's out of the bag.” Lute says with a smirk, “What's the big deal?” Adam asked with a condescending smirk and [y/n] wished she could go down there and punch him.

“Sera, tell me that you didn't know...” both Emily and [y/n] asked simultaneously, though, Sera was just looking at Emily. [Y/n] was pissed at this whole revelation, human souls are killed in heaven by the hands that are supposed to be pure holiness. To think about blood staining those hands, fills her with disgust.

The whole courtroom was a mess, [y/n] doesn't remember what exactly happened. The reveal that Vaggie was an angel didn't surprise her, she can sense the girl's angelic blood but the reveal that Sera was the one who ordered for the extermination to happen, filled her with rage.

“Charlie! Don't lose hope! We will find a way to help you!” Emily says as we watched Vaggie and Charlie be sucked by a portal back to hell, “Don't give up! We'll find a way!” [y/n] added, making sure the two girls heard. Sera glared at her and [y/n] glared back.

That's what Charlie last saw, Emily looking worried and disappointed but what worried her was Sera and [y/n] started arguing, angelic powers starting to spark between them and that was the last thing she saw as she returned back in hell. Thankfully, the letter was safe in her pocket.

[dragonstailbutch]

This pisses me off. Why. Trans women are not "hating men". How on earth could anyone even draw these conclusions. You say youre butch, youre an ally, one of us and then draw a line from yourself to men and honey, being a butch doesnt make you a man. Being masculine doesnt make you a man. Having stubble, a deep voice, being mistaken for a man even though it hurts? does not make you man.

You speak words that do nothing but draw a line, build a wall between yourself and your sisters, and then pretend we attack your transmasc and cis friends. Lip service to terfs and drawing a connection to rascism, as if thats a comparable thing, regardless of whatever correction or caveat, is foolish and ignorant of the complaints being made by and from your sisters.

We say that trans men benefit from patriarchy. This is true. We say misandry is not real. This is true. We say we are not safe, we cry out that our words are twisted and ripped and ignored. This is true.

caveats, pedantry, words aimed to keep you safe, a "pick me" attitude. These things keep you in arms with people who harm us, harm you even if you choose to ignore it. Ignore your actions, however you try you hurt yourself and make a mockery of feminism. No one attacks you, no one calls you a man, no one says youre ugly but yourself and those you surround yourself with. Those very same people we cry warnings of, who say your sisters hate you, call you insults, and say your sisters speak worse of *them* then you.

Your sisters love you but you seperate yourself from us and say we must hate you despite us trying to explain and pull you back and away from what is hurting you. The writing is on the wall and its an end obvious and of your own making, a self fulfilling prophecy

i am sorry for you, pity you even. I hope you get better.

[saintjosie]

a couple months ago, i took a bit of a risk and played a show opening for a friend’s band, in a small city in a very conservative state in the south. my friend warned me that they didn’t know anything about the venue or the kind of people that would be there but i said fuck it and did it anyways.

so there i am, my extremely transgender self, standing in front of about 30 middle-class-brewery-bougie people, singing extremely transgender songs about religious trauma, trans joy, and self love, making a room full of people who had no idea who i am, empathize with my story, cry, and celebrate trans joy.

and during the show, i of course thank my incredible girlfriend for supporting me on my journey and helping me love myself. this is very important and very relevant to this story.

after im done, im thinking, fuck yeah this is awesome, i can’t believe that these very cis het people resonated with my music so much

when this older woman and her husband comes up to me and tells me how much they enjoyed hearing my story.

and then tell me that she is THE PASTORS WIFE AND HE’S THE HEAD PASTOR.

and THEN they tell me that their son is playing in the headlining band, and i realize that most of the people in the room are people FROM THAT CHURCH and i just sang my very transgender and anti-religious music to a room full of weirdly supportive christians.

and then they all proceed to tell me how much they enjoyed my music and then also tell me how awesome it is that my “friend” is so supportive and came to the show, when i literally said during the show that she’s my girlfriend.

you’ve heard of trans inclusive radical misogny, now introducing trans inclusive homophobia?

9/10 show, would not attempt again.

[drbrun-w-dabliou]

ATTENTION, IF YOU ARE AN ARTIST, NO MATTER OUTSIDE OF THE FANDOM OR THE AUDIENCE, IT IS STILL IMPORTANT THAT YOU READ THIS.

IF POSSIBLE, PLEASE SPREAD THE WORD AS WIDELY AS POSSIBLE!!! OR JUST GIVE ADVICE/HELP WITH THE SITUATION!

hello! My name is Brun. I am an artist, honestly: a Russian-speaking artist.

And at the moment I am observing such a problem, I will start from afar:

At the moment, one of the most popular social networks in the CIS countries is Telegram, which has popular groups on various topics, nothing unusual! People communicate, post their own and OTHER PEOPLE's ART, with CREDITS and LINKS TO THE AUTHORS, which is usually the norm that people follow, admins monitor this and look for art for the Daily (a.k.a. daily posts), but there are a couple of incidents that I want to warn you about.:

there is such a group as HOMESTUCK HOROSCOPES, the audience there is not small as you can see in the screenshots below.

and they themselves say that they take these artworks from their other groups in Telegram and don't even look at the author to credit them, because IT'S SO HAAAAARD🥺🥺🥺🥺 AND IT TAKES.... TIME!!!!!! My god, it's soooo hard, right?

and most importantly, CIS artists can at least still be outraged, check and see, say that their authorship should be indicated, BUT ARTISTS FROM TUMBLR / ENGLISH-SPEAKING PLATFORMS CAN NOT! you literally don't even have a way to find out about it, so, FACTUALLY they take advantage of you being unaware about the situation and steal other people's work without any consequences, ALSO including from CIS artists.

and there are many such groups and admins! and then the audience also SUPPORTS the admins by saying, "haha sigma, got them! Serves them right, and besides, it's just a Horoscope Confession! These people (who are outraged that their art is literally being stolen) are such wimps! 🙄"

so in fact, anyone who is against the admin's position will just be swept under the rug like dust, and, poof! it's your fault for pointing out the laziness of the admin, because IT'S SO DIFFICULT FOR THEM, WHY ARE YOU ALL SO DEMANDING!

+More screenshots and another group with the same topic.

I and at least ONE (possibly two) other people tried to shed some light on this situation, but in the end only received condemnation, so I want to at the very least warn YOU that you would always leave your nickname or a BIG watermark on even your smallest sketches in a place where it would be most difficult to erase, and if you can't to help - at least protect yourself and your creations.

links to them : https://t.me/horoscope_homestuck ( there it is still possible to find other similar groups through mutual PR ( #ВП ) )

[for-a-longlongtime]

To all the fans in the Pedro fandom who feel like they don't belong

I see you. We see you. You have a place here among all of us, and we want you to be here - we really do.

No, this isn't a Kumbaya post, I'm fuckin' for real.

To all the writers...

... who receive racist messages, death threats, are being told their reader insert isn't good enough, that this and this character wouldn't be with someone who looks and sounds like you, that you're not using the right words or that you misspelled something --

I am so fucking sorry people had the fuckin' gall to direct that hate at you, because you don't deserve it. You share your stories and characters with us, and they are adored and read and celebrated exactly for who they are - not despite of who they are.

To everybody who lurks, reads, but doesn't feel like they can participate...

... who see how their skin tone, language, identity, gender, body type, sexual orientation, culture, type of relationships, and so much more is underrepresented or actively treated with hostility --

I'm so fucking sorry, and I - as many of us - understand completely why you feel that way, because it's absolutely valid. But I promise it's not how the majority of people feel about you. I know that doesn't make up for shit, but I do want you to know that most of us care a lot.

Nobody should stay in an environment where they feel like they're not wanted, or where remarks are made carelessly without regard for how hurtful stereotypes are. But if this has ever happened to you, be it out of ignorance (or at times malice), please know - your presence matters.

To everybody who has ever felt insecure about their kinks or liking smut... ...please don't. Seriously. Your kinks are what they are and they are completely fine. Liking smut is fine. Liking Pedro characters in smutty fic is fine too. Kink exploration in fic should be a safe space and respected.

Don't shame others here, especially not as an anon. Yes, certain topics that writers address in fic may be challenging for you for a number of reasons, but guess what? You don't have to read it! You don't have to dissect *why* someone wrote that! Don't like smutty fic? Cool, so don't wade into fics marked as explicit. Don't like certain kinks? That's cool, just read the warnings and skip fic when it doesn't appeal to you. Sure you're entitled to your own opinions, but you do not need to air them out in public or trash an author because you didn't like how they wrote something.

To everybody in this fandom...

... especially those of us who are white, able-bodied, straight, cisgender, had formal education, are a native English speaker, and/or many of the other privileges that a lot of us carry in our backpack every day:

We need to do better. Please. For so many reasons.

We need to be aware of our blind spots, biases, the fact that at times everybody fucks up - because we live in a racist, homophobic capitalist patriarchy -, and that occasionally means admitting we were wrong. That we unintentionally said something that was hurtful and that we're sorry for hurting people with our words. That ignorance can slip so easily into words that we type, and that the only way. But own up to it and please don't pull the 'I'm sorry you feel hurt' card - no. Take actual responsibility. Particularly when underrepresented voices explained to you why something is wrong.

And please, call out your friends on things like this - especially if you're white/straight/cis. It's your responsibility to speak up because you're closer to them. White people should be the first to call out racism; it's not up to the people that already are on the receiving end of prejudice (or worse, hatred) to fight that battle.

Exclusion doesn't only happen if you're actively spreading hate - it also happens by not taking accountability for when you fuck up, or when you are erasing and ignoring identities. If the word 'representation' doesn't mean much to you, that's probably because you constantly see yourself reflected in the stories and people in society (that, in itself, is privilege too) - and hey, good for you! But there are many of us who that doesn't apply to in the same measure.

I've had many conversations lately about this with fellow queers as well as brown/black/Latinx folks, so I really wanted to post this. Not as virtue signaling or whatever the hell, but because I know a lot of people are seeing and reading things that are understandably make them reluctant to engage.

So hey, let's do better and look after folks in our community whether we directly engage with them or not. The amount of comments that are always gushing about 'I love how Pedro cares about others/is an ally!' is very disproportionate to seeing similar support expressed for creators and fellow fans. Let's also not forget he's a Chilean man, the son of socialist refugees, who has always actively been on the barricades for LGBTQIA+, rallies against white supremacy and the toxicity of patriarchy -- so if you appreciate his dedication to 'causes', lets apply that to the very real people in this fandom too. And fyi, this isn't just about a single instance or a single person - it's so much bigger than that, and we all know it.

(oh, and if you feel like I'm being a moralist about this - feel free to unfollow or block my ass. You do you! I don't care. I care about the people here who don't want the community harmed by anons who get their kicks from being a bully.)