#I don’t care if you get ‘second hand dysphoria’ be normal and nice to other trans people!!

[yaoiboypussy]

Why do some trans guys act like you personally attacked them when you tell them to not be weird about pregnant men.

#.txt #I don’t care if you get ‘second hand dysphoria’ be normal and nice to other trans people!! #trans #transgender #trans man #transmasc

[simpcxty]

You said you needed ideas so hear me out-

Sfw- trans! Reader (ftm) with Tsukishima who gives tough love and hates it when you have really bad dysphoria days. Snaps at anyone who misgenders you.

NSFW- oikawa would be such a tease when you get needy and shit. Like this fucker would tease you after you beg because he told you to beg.

Thank you, thank you, thank you!! You have given me brain fuel, and for that. I love you 🧡

I have never written something in one day. Thank you, you have truly inspired me 😩👏

TW for Tsukishima: deadnaming and misgendering, deadname is your choice, but Y/n will be for your new name and Y/d/n for your dead name because no dads are mentioned here. Gets a little angsty but they figure it out.

I didn’t want to be disrespectful to anyone and choose a name that might be someone’s new name or dead name.

Also I’m sorry if my writing isn’t accurate for a ftm character. I did my best and I really hope you like it!

I did my best with the tough love but it does get a bit fluffy tbh.

Kei Tsukishima

Kei always tries.

He really does. You guys had started dating before you came out, and the switch from your dead name to Y/n had him caught off guard.

So did the sudden shift of pronouns.

But he didn’t leave, so he was trying to do his best all right?

But he’s already bad with emotions, these are a different kind that he doesn’t even know how to approach.

So he gives it the same energy he does with everything else.

Today though.

Something was very odd about today.

His normal words had you flashing him your best fake smile and turning away from him.

And trust me, he could tell the difference.

But for now, he chose not to comment.

Will it be one of those days today?

You didn’t like to talk about your Dysphoria but Kei always picked up on it.

Or at least he tried to.

He even had a custom made chest binder coming in the mail that should be here any day now.

But when you leave the room after Kei’s not incorrect but painfully blunt statement went straight to your very soul.

He replays the conversation in his head to see where he messed up.

He found himself doing that a lot.

‘I get that you’re trying Kei. It just sucks that other people don’t even bother.’

‘I don’t really think it’s that big of a deal. They’re stupid people who don’t even matter at least I’m trying. Imagine if I wasn’t?’

It made you question everything.

Did he even want to be trying?

Why are you being a nuisance?

Why are you putting him through this. He’s got much more important things to be focusing on as a senior in college this year.

You’re finally being true to yourself and putting him through unnecessary stress aren’t you? What is wrong with you?

All of these thoughts and more swarmed your head as you leaned against the bathroom counter trying to catch your breathing.

Stop it. Stop being such a big crybaby.

Kei Tsukishima doesn’t need a crybaby.

Why does it have to hurt so damn bad to just be a girl? He’d like you so much more as a girl.

“Y/n..?” His voice sounds so tired.

Damn it Y/n. Get your fucking shit together.

“Please talk to me.. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that babe.. I just-“ his eyes almost seem dull when you open the door, only to brighten when you open the door and he gets a good view of you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say it like that, I just- I don’t, I don’t know how to handle this sometimes, but I don’t want you to think I don’t care. It’s just new, and I can get adjusted-“ he feels his heart clench a bit when your next words come out.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I couldn’t just stay who I was, I’m sorry I couldn’t just be a girl for-“ and he’s grabbing your face with his palms as tears start to well up in his eyes.

“Shut up. Shut up, because I love you however I can have you. I love you. I just want you, please don’t get confused and think I have a preference because I just want you Y/n. I love you, no matter who you are. Please don’t forget that.” The tears streaming down your face slow as he kisses your head and wraps his arms around you.

“Im sorry Kei.” He kisses your head again.

“Shh, stop it. Stop apologizing. You have nothing to apologize for babe, we do need to finish getting ready for class though okay?” You nod and he smiles.

———

When you get to school, he can almost feel the anxiety wafting from you.

But he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around you and pull you along with him.

“You have me, okay? I’m just as much yours as you are mine babe.” You nod and expect him to pull him arm away, and he does, only to entangle his hand in yours.

“Tsukishima!” No- because he recognizes that annoyingly high pitched voice, and he’s not in the mood for it. Nor will you be.

So he picks up speed. Keeping his hand tight around yours and pulling you in front of him, only to wrap his arms around you slightly and speed up even more.

“Kei what are you doing?” You think he’s going to ignore you until he speaks up finally.

“Don’t want to deal with her.”

“Y/d/n can you-“ he stops right in his tracks and turns around to acknowledge the blonde.

“Alisa is it? See how easy was that? I wasn’t even sure. You know for a fact that isn’t the proper name that he goes by. So correct yourself, or don’t talk to my boyfriend or me. Got it?” She goes to speak again but Tsukishima already has you two walking again and his ears are flushed.

“Tsuki-?” You’re blushing and he tightens his grip on your waist.

“It wasn’t right, I’ll correct anyone who gets it wrong. Even myself.” You smiled and he manages to crack a small one.

Kei Tsukishima always tries.

———————————————————————

NSFW CONTENT AHEAD

I didn’t know if you still wanted a ftm character so this one is just written female.

READ RESPONSIBLY PLEASE

Characters aged up 18+

“Beg.” You scoffed.

“I don’t beg.” Your hips are rising as he pressed his thumb harder against your clit and you whimper.

“I won’t do anything more until you beg.” You rolled your eyes and attempt to sit up. Only for him to wrap a hand around your throat and push you back down.

“Toru, I don’t beg-“ he tightens his grip around your throat and you whine.

“I said, beg.” The way he demands it in your ear has your thighs attempting to clam shut.

Key word, attempting.

“Are you gonna listen to a single thing I say princess? Or am I gonna have to leave you here like this?” You looked up at him desperately and his grip around your neck loosens a bit.

“Please, please just fuck me already. I need it Toru, it’s been too long please just do it already-“ you’re cut off with whines as his tip prods at your entrance, but the pressure on your clit is still hard and you know he’s waiting for more.

“Please! Please fuck me! I need you Toru please!” He chuckles and pushes in agonizingly slowly.

“Like you said babe, it’s been too long. I need to go easy on your pretty pussy.” You whine at that.

“Don’t want you to go easy- just fuck me rough please!” Tears of frustration pool in your eyes and he laughs.

“Awe, don’t cry princess, I’ll give you what you want. You begged so nicely.” The sudden snap of his hips has you unable to respond to his taunt.

Yeah so what you begged. You’re getting dicked down by this god of a man. I’d say that’s a win.

His hands were both on your hips now as he thrusted into as if his life depended on it.

“Missed you so much.” He whines and a particularly hard thrust has you reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck.

The new position has you sliding down on his dick so much easier, and the way he can just lift you up and down quickly has him whining more.

“M’gonna cum. Off.” He whimpers as you tighten and start to lift yourself off and grabs your hips. He’s never cum so fast but you don’t mind.

“T-Toru-!” He gasps as you tighten more and his hips thrust up desperately.

“Nevermind, I wanna cum inside. Please, please let me cum inside. You feel so good, just wanna cum inside your warm pussy hnngh~ please!” His hips are starting to falter and you know he’s getting closer as his hands tighten around your waist, lifting you up and down to meet with his sloppy thrusts.

“Please!” He’s begging and you almost laugh.

“Oh god please, just wanna cream inside you please!” He has to stop thrusting and you’d almost think he did cum.

But you knew better. His nails digging into your hips and his ragged breathing against your neck has you melting.

“Did you even really have to ask? Just cum babe.” Your words are so nonchalant that he’s whining and picking up his thrusts again.

“fuckfuckfuckohfuckyes” his voice is messy and it’s almost gibberish.

But as you tighten around him and his hips falter he’s moaning and whimpering into your chest and neck.

“So tight, ngHh shit~” he moans whorishly as you cum around him and cum spurts out of him and into you.

“You fuck me so good. So so good Y/n.” His hips are still sputtering and you’re wondering just how long it’s been since he’s actually gotten off.

“Thank you, Thank you so fucking much baby.” His cum is already spilling out of you and he’s still finishing.

This’ll be a fun cleanup.

He finally lays you down on the bed and lays his head in between the valley on your chest as he catches his breath.

“You begged.” He wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer, making you whimper while he stays inside of you.

“Do I need to remind you how you sounded when you wanted to cum Toru?” His head shoots up at that and his cheeks flush.

“But you’re so warm. So tight and comfy. I didn’t and still don’t want to leave.” He whines and wiggles his hips upward and you whimper. You can’t help but clench as he thrusts up again and whines again.

He keeps up the occasional thrusts. Neither of you have the energy for a second round. That much is obvious. But the bliss is overwhelming.

“Don’t want to pull out yet. Please don’t make me.” He whines and you just clench around him to tease.

“Fuck. Don’t do that. M’still hard and I’m ninety percent sure if you keep doing that I’m gonna stuff your already full pussy again.” You hummed and he wraps his arms around you.

“Empty threats. We’re both too tired, you know we’ll just go again when we wake up.”

“I’m gonna get you pregnant.” He says it confidently, you couldn’t even laugh at the statement. Because he probably and most definitely will.

“I mean if that’s what you want, I wouldn’t mind having a little Oikawa running around.” Almost all his stamina is back in that moment.

Congratulations you have unlocked

Breeding King with Toru Oikawa 🔓

Neither of you ended up sleeping that night.

#oikawa smut #tsukishima fluff #ftm reader #haikyuu!! smut #slight angst #body dysphoria #tsukishima angst #god theyre so pretty

[authoressofdarkness]

His Perfect Model - Chapter 1

Tony doesn’t need the money from porn shoots, Lord knows. It’s just a fun, extremely well paying side gig. But when he somehow acquires permanent... ah, custody... of the omega from his latest shoot, he knows he’s found his perfect model. And their fun together is only beginning. It may take him some time to convince Peter of that, but really, he’s not too worried.

Read on AO3 here. Notes, warnings, and Chapter 1 under the cut.

Notes: Hello hello! I'm back again! This is another random plot bunny that I've been fidgeting with for a while, but I was eventually convinced to get it up sooner rather than later, so here it is! This first chapter is very explicit, and it probably will be rather smutty most of the way through. Not sure how long this will be yet or what it will deal with, but just for transparency, there may be talk of past trauma that could extend to noncon, dubcon, kidnapping, human trafficking, and more. I'll tag each chapter accordingly as we get there, but none of it should be too explicit. Also, anyone familiar with GMSTS will be familiar with how I write ABO, but, as simply as possible, omegas have vaginas, alphas have cocks, and betas are what we would consider "binary." Again, I say so ahead of time just in the interest of transparency so I don't accidentally trigger anyone's dysphoria. Aaaanyway, if you've made it through my rambling and are still interested, yay! Thank you for being here, read on, and I hope you enjoy! <3

He tries not to judge.

That was probably why he gets hired for so many gigs. That and his insane amount of talent, but — well. Anyone could have that amount of talent with working with equipment if they tried. Now the fact that he builds his own… that is something special, he knows.

And, really, his technical prowess was what pays his bills more than anything, and is what made him rich. That, and his father’s name, but he tries to keep that part more under wraps. He’d turned away the responsibility that normally came with being a Stark a long time ago; but the intelligence and the mechanical prowess is practically in his blood. Unable to be rejected.

Anyway, the point is, he doesn’t need to do porn shoots; yet he still enjoys taking these side jobs. He always had, even on his way to the top, and he never made any attempt to hide it.

He doesn’t just shoot porn, of course. He’d lend his camera skills to anyone who asks and has the money to back up the offer. But of course the dirty jobs tend to be his favorites. Any alpha that says they don’t like to pose an omega how they like and look at their pretty pussy for any amount of time — and get paid the big bucks to do it — was certainly a liar.

And yeah, he takes some weird jobs included in that. But he doesn’t ask many questions except on the preferences for stylings of the job, and he’s kinky enough himself to never dream of judging the extremism of it, so… yeah, he makes pretty good money.

Today might be testing the extent of it, though.

The scene he is shooting today isn’t particularly extreme or out of the ordinary, on first glance. The omega was to be strapped to a chair with a wand tied in place to tease his pussy, and Tony is supposed to capture it in photo and on video as his torture goes through stages of multiple denials until he’s hypersensitive and begging to stop. The rest was put as to be determined based on the way it comes out.

It is far from the craziest thing he’s ever shot, and he planned it out easily enough, with a few of his favorite toys and set pieces, and he’s easily ready to go.

The weird part starts when the omega gets there.

It’s apparent immediately that this is no porn star. Aside from his experience in the field and the number of them he actually knew from it, Peter doesn’t carry himself like one. He is small and shy, with a lithe, gorgeous body, as Tony can see from the moment the two gruff alphas accompanying him strip him out of the poor excuse for a covering the omega had been wearing. All he was left in then was a slip, and it’s sheer fabric did nothing to hide the pretty nude form underneath.

Most people arrived in normal clothes and then would either change or strip.

The second thing was that he is already bound. Again, unusual. Clearly he hadn’t driven himself, of course, but… this must be a really elaborate scene for him to already be tied up. And the rope isn’t even the good stuff; it’s plain and grainy, certainly hurting his wrists and not at all his color. Tony always used rope that complimented the style of the scene and the person’s skin. It would be a waste not to.

Peter is gorgeous, and he could have used a lot of colors, admittedly. But the boy is delicate and pale — his pussy much the same in the photos — and so he’d chosen a light pink, one that didn’t wash out his already pale form and almost matched the pretty color of the soft bits he’d been paid to pay special attention to. It’s easy enough to match the background of the scene and the colors of the toys and rope together, thematically.

But that aside, all of the choices up to this point were strange. Stranger than he’s used to. But he makes it a point not to say anything. He’s not being paid to judge.

Even if Peter looks almost scared of the two men he came in with. Even if something rings off about this whole gig.

Tony isn’t stupid, but he doesn’t care much for the loss of business — at least — pushing for the truth would cause. So he pushes the thoughts down and finally approaches the omega.

“Hi, princess. Gentlemen.” He kneels down to be at Peter’s level. “My name’s Tony. I’m going to be the one taking your photos, honey. Can I get you anything before we start? A water? Bathroom break?” The omega silently shakes his head. “Alright. Let's get started then.” He holds out a hand to help him up.

Peter takes it, and Tony helps him to his feet and guides him over to the chair. “Now we’re going to start with some photos on the floor and make our way into the chair. I’m going to change out your ropes. I want you to leave the slip on, for now.” It’s white, a nice color to highlight the details of the creamy skin underneath, and doesn’t contrast with his ropes, either.

He cuts the bonds on the omega’s wrists and reties them in front of him with the pink rope, then has him lay down on the floor, propping his ankles up on the edge of the chair so the slip falls back to expose creamy thighs and stomach and the top of that tantalizing slit from above his pressed-together thighs.

Tony suppresses the urge to purr. “Perfect.” He moves behind the chair and starts taking pictures, ignoring the stir of arousal in his gut at the sight of the gorgeous omega as he does, throwing out occasional changes in position for him to follow.

Peter, for his part, is pretty demure throughout all the photos. He’s quiet — whether shy or afraid to speak, Tony doesn’t ask — but he doesn’t look sullen or make any faces to spoil the photos. He just complies with Tony’s directions, usually silently or with an occasional “yes, sir,” allowing Tony to direct and shoot him in a dozen different positions before allowing him to actually sit in the chair.

Feet on the chair. Legs crossed. Legs open. Spread your folds with your bound hands. One leg up, then the other. Knees bent. To your chest, pussy exposed wide without your fingers. Pull the sheer over it for a few shots. Hold the wand to it. Hands above your head. Hold still while I get shots of it resting there. Tied with the rope like it will be in the video. Lick the wand. Close your eyes and hold it there. Take off the slip. Repeat a few sultry shots without it.

Finally, he picks up the slip and helps the omega to his feet. “You can sit in the chair now. Put the slip back on for a few minutes.”

Peter nods and does as he’s told, and Tony watches, unable to help himself. He doesn’t find himself incredibly attracted to a lot of his clients, at least after so long of doing it, and what with his tastes being so specific… but Peter seemed to hit everything on the head, and god, it was a bit of a problem for him. He’s supposed to be setting up his camera right now, but instead he’s admiring the curve of the omega’s spine and his plump ass as he heads for the chair he’s going to tie him to and-

He snaps out of it. He’s going to shoot the video he’s being paid to shoot, and that’s it. No fantasies allowed. At least not until after when he’s jerking off to the memory of this.

He sets up his video camera, then returns to the little omega, waiting patiently for him to come to him so they could shoot the scene. Tony grabs some more of the pink rope, setting about tying the pretty thing down, wrists to the arms, ankles to the legs, back to the back, and the wand added with a loop through the middle tying his back to the chair, letting it sit perfectly against Peter’s pretty pussy. He tops it off with a blindfold, and purrs at the completed look.

“Perfect. I’m going to get a few more shots before we start filming. Just relax.” He can smell the omega starting to get slick, even just from the wand resting against his pussy. He definitely knows what’s coming. Even though it’s not Tony’s idea, or Tony’s omega, even, he’s getting slightly excited at the thought of being in control and being the one to do this to him.

He gets a lot more excited when they actually start.

He does. He can’t help it. From the moment he turns the toy on and watches the omega’s head loll back in pleasure, eyes fluttering under the blindfold, he’s rock hard in his pants, watching, smelling the omega’s slick as he goes from slightly wet to absolutely drenched and dripping down his own thighs by the third denial. And his moans… the way he meekly whines out for alpha and those little cries of pleasepleaseplease! when he’s on the cusp of orgasm… it’s pornographic, there’s no other word for how obscene and arousing it is, matched only by the way his lithe body squirms in his bonds, fabric around his eyes darkening from tears-

By the fifth denial, Tony is convinced he could probably come in his pants right now from this, if he let himself. He’s half-ass tempted to. The alphas that had brought him in have stepped outside, and Peter is slumped as much as he can be and panting in the chair, still blindfolded, just waiting for him to turn it back on. It would be so easy to rub himself to a quick and dirty orgasm out of any of their lines of sight.

He doesn’t. He turns the toy back on and lets his cock twitch and strain in his pants at the sound of Peter’s broken cry instead, finding this edging to be just as satisfying for him as how it’ll probably end for Peter. At least it’s fair.

One of the alphas that brought him in returns sometime around the eighth denial. He joins him off to the side this time.

“How many?” He sounds almost bored, eyeing the crying and squirming omega with minimal interest.

Tony tried to keep his voice even as he answers, despite the arousal threatening to roughen it. “When I turn it on again, it’ll be nine.”

“Good.” He nods, looking satisfied.

There’s a long moment of silence except for the pitiful whimpering of the omega. Tony breaks it again. “How many times am I supposed to deny him?”

“At least ten.”

“And then?”

The other alpha turns to him. “That depends on you, I think.”

“On me?” He can’t hide his surprise. The paperwork had said to be determined, yes, but he assumed it was to be determined based on what Peter could take. “What do you mean?”

The older alpha gives him a once over and purposefully scents the air before answering. “You want him. Don’t you?”

It’s not like there’s any way of hiding it, but his cheeks still tint pink. “Yes. Who wouldn’t?”

“Well, you have a chance at him before anyone else.” The alpha tilts his head. “How much are you willing to pay?”

“Excuse me?” Tony straightens. “Pay for what?”

“Him.” The alpha tosses his head in Peter’s direction.

Tony lets out a little breath. God, is it tempting, but he doesn’t need anyone else used whore, no matter how pretty he may be. “He’s pretty, I grant you, but I’m not paying to fuck an omega used by how many others before me. Thanks, but no thanks.” It sounded crude, but really. Why would he take a risk like that?

“He hasn’t been. He’s fresh meat.” The other male shrugs. “The shoot is for material to advertise him. He goes online for sale tonight… unless you pay me for him right now.”

Tony doesn’t need him to say it flat out to understand that his suspicions were right — there’s definitely something illegal going on here. And he has a choice.

But what kind of choice is it, really? He only knows two people’s names out of what is surely a ring, and in all likelihood, they’re fake names. These two alphas probably wouldn’t have shared this with him if they weren’t confident that he wants Peter enough to take it. And even the fact they were here and they did this shoot would be enough to get him in trouble, even if he turned it in himself. Not to mention the fact that they know his real identity. These two men or someone else would surely come back after him if he tried to turn them in — if they didn’t kill him flat out.

But if he bought Peter and kept quiet… it was better for him, better for business, and surely better for Peter. He couldn’t be as bad as whoever the boy would end up being sold to on the black market.

Tony meets his eyes. “How much?”

The alpha grins, pretending to think about it. “To have first go round at him? A couple grand. I’ll go back outside and let you have him until sundown, if you give us our material and the cash. To keep him? Well, I still want the photos for promotional material, but… a mil or two.”

Two whole million. For a pure, untouched, gorgeous, terrified omega straight out of his wet dreams.

Tony swallows. It’s hardly a decision. Not when he’s smelling how wet and ready Peter is sitting a few feet away and he knows he could have the money out of the bank as quick as a phone call. It’s not as if he doesn’t have it. “How soon do you want the cash?”

~~~

By the time Peter reaches the tenth denial, Tony officially owns him.

The two other alphas leave with a flash drive with the photos, the money in an account, and the promise that they’ll get the finished product of the video soon.

Soon, but not today, or the next couple, probably. He’s going to be a bit busy.

He fixes the angle of the camera so it’s situated mostly below the neck; the focus of it, of course, on the omega’s creamy open thighs, and the wet pussy forced open between them with the wand. Then he moves around, approaching the omega from the back while he’s slumped in the chair, panting and crying weakly.

He slides the blindfold off the omega’s wet eyes from behind, and Peter immediately straightens, tugging at his bonds. “H-hello? Alpha?” His voice is thick and raspy from crying.

“Hi, honey,” Tony purrs, setting his hands on the omega’s shoulders, enjoying the way he jumps at the touch as he runs them down his body. Deft fingers free the wand from its loop, and Peter sobs in relief.

“Oh alpha, thank you, gods- ngh- “

Peter starts to thank him for removing the wand, but chokes off with a broken cry when it returns, this time in the alpha’s hand. Tony smiles at the response as Peter’s head lolls back into his shoulder, turning it up a setting and shushing him gently at the sob that tears from Peter’s lips again.

He runs his other hand back up Peter’s body and settles it against his chin, grip firm on his throat, forcing him to keep his head back and on his shoulder. He drops his lips to the omega’s ear. “You can sob and struggle all you want to. I’m not going to let you come. And I’m not going to stop torturing you until you stop all of it. Don’t cry, don’t struggle, don’t beg me to let you ruin yourself. When you start saying please and thank you for the pleasure and for what I’m doing to you, and be a respectful, obedient omega, we might stop.”

“It hurts-“ Peter whimpers. “Alpha, daddy , please… I’ll do anything- oh- “ His face presses against Tony’s chest with a tortured cry. His thighs tremble viciously against Tony’s hand, back arching a little over the chair.

Tony feels a pang in his chest, but presses on. They have to finish this video before he starts going soft, at least. “You’ll sit still and be quiet. Here. I’ll even help you.” The hand not holding the wand in place comes up and covers his mouth, holding his head firmly against his shoulder. “Now be good, and I’ll make it stop.”

It takes time. Another few denials, kind of time, but it doesn’t matter. He has as long as needed. He’d given the omega an order, and he’d learn to listen, or they’d keep going all night.

Eventually, shaking and exhausted, Peter goes limp against him, eyes closed, pitiful little sobs audible but no words even trying to come from behind the alpha’s hand, still clamped on his mouth. Tony makes a triumphant little sound, and pulls the wand away. “Look at me, omega.”

Peter’s eyes flutter open, red and wet, fixing on Tony.

“Since you’ve listened, now, we’re going to be done. I’m going to take my hand off your mouth, and I want you to thank me. Don’t stop thanking me, and don’t say please, again, or we’ll stop until you can get control of yourself. Am I clear?” A nod against his hand. “Good.” He lets him go.

Peter takes a small breath. “Thank you.” His voice is barely a hoarse whisper.

“You’re welcome, omega.” Tony presses a kiss to his neck and lets the wand trail back up Peter’s thigh, suppressing a smirk at the way his breath hitches again. “Again.”

“Thank you, Alpha.”

“Good boy. Remember, don’t beg. Just be grateful.” He pauses, then slides the blindfold back on his eyes. He knows they want his full body in this shot, but he isn’t too keen on the possibility of the omega being recognized, either, knowing what he does now. Then he steps away just enough to tilt the camera back up, allowing it to get Peter’s face, and a small portion of his own neck and torso behind him.

When he returns, he takes his chin, turning his head toward the lens. “Look toward the camera, now. Think about how many people are going to see this, honey, and try show them how good you are. Let everyone see how pretty you look when you’re coming, just this once, before I take it all for myself.”

“Yes, alpha. Thank you, alpha.”

“Good boy.” With that, he turns on the wand again.

The omega’s body jumps visibly in the camera lens when the toy finds his swollen clit again. He lets out a broken little cry, but his hips don’t move, even as he starts to tremble again immediately. “Alpha- feels so good, Alpha, thank you- so close, Alpha, so close, thank you- oh god, oh- ngh- “

The force of the orgasm rocks his little body, and he nearly screams at the intensity before going completely limp in the chair again, clearly seeing stars, seeming to have blacked out.

Tony flicks the toy off and lets Peter’s head go, watching it fall to his chest as the omega pants and struggles to regain his senses. He walks over to the camera, taking it off its stand and coming closer.

He trails his fingers from the inside of Peter’s bound leg, up his core, pausing for just a moment to tease that oversensitive little bud, tearing a strangled cry out of Peter that he shushes, and then clear up to his face. He cups his cheek, stroking it as the omega’s unfocused eyes try to open under the fabric, clearly barely holding on to consciousness.

“You know you want one,” he murmurs, just loud enough to be heard. “So come get it.”

Then he shuts the camera off, setting it aside and turning completely back to Peter. It was time to get the omega home.

Taglist: @snowstark @serrabloodsong​

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#starker #peter parker x tony stark #tony stark x peter parker #his perfect model #my writing #starker fanfiction #starker fanfic #ironspider fanfic #ironspider fanfiction #ironspider #marvel alternate universe #marvel cinematic universe alternate universe #mcu au #photographer tony stark #nff #starker nff #model peter parker #tony stark/peter parker #peter parker/tony stark #starker moodboard #ironspider moodboard

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Pairings: Past Aizawa/Mandalay

Word Count: 1,921 Words

Summary: Hitoshi and Katsuki's birthday.

Warnings: Period Mention, Menstruation Mention, Food Mention, Nightmare Mention, Death Mention, Cursing, Caps, let me know if I should tag anything else.

Usernames: Existence Is A Prison   Aizawa: feral cat dad, Aoyama: gay salt, Hagakure: ranch flavored jello, Tokoyami: foil-mecha, Shinsou: farmer toshi, Kuroiro: life is a nightmare, Shiozaki: saviour, Tsunotori: schrodinger better run, Honenuki: pure, Monoma: nat20, Yamada: President Megaphone, Bakugou: deku-deck-you

Aizawa, We Agreed No More Cats: Chapter 7

6:25 AM

Existence Is A Prison

pure: It's a birthday! That means birthday breakfasts are in order!

life is a nightmare: Kiyo made everyone yakisoba buns with enoki and I made soup dumplings to celebrate.

farmer toshi: You two are so sweet, thank you.

deku deck-you: Thanks, girls.

pure: No problem!

saviour: I will not be attending class today. I will not be leaving my room today.

feral cat dad: What's wrong?

saviour: Painful period. Dysphoria. Hate living.

feral cat dad: I'm sorry, kid. I'll tell Vlad you're dehydrated and have Nemuri take care of you, she'll know more than me, but I'll bring a hot water bottle, food, and some company for you in the meantime.

saviour: Thank you, Mr. Aizawa.

feral cat dad: I am the father collective here, it's only fair I parent my child.

8:30  AM

Existence Is A Prison

nat20: I'm recording the classes for you so you don't miss anything, Ibara, dear.

saviour: Thank you, Seiko.

nat20: Not a problem, love. I don't want to see you falling behind when you don't deserve to. I mean, it's surely not your fault uterus' exist.

saviour: You're amazing.

nat20: I know.

12:45 PM

Existence Is A Prison

schrodinger better run: I'm bringing over lunch, Ibara.

saviour: You're all too nice to me. I shouldn't even be in bed still.

schrodinger better run: Ibara, honey, we're nice because we care about you. You deserve to rest this off and see when you feel better. There's no rushing yourself. I'm sure that, once you rest up a bit, Recovery Girl can help 'heal' the cramps or at least tone them down a bit.

saviour: Still, thank you. All of you.

2:04 PM

Existence Is A Prison

gay salt: I think this is hilarious, personally.

nat20: What's even happening over in 1-A, you guys have been yelling and all for like ten minutes.

gay salt: birthdayboysinbirthdayhats.jpg

gay salt: Shinsou had to come deliver something to Mr. Aizawa from Mr. Snipe's class and now everyone is questioning Kats and Hito if they're twins and Midoriya's trying to chill everyone out. Really, you should be here, Seiko.

nat20: They are twins. I mean, practically, yes, they are.

ranch flavored jello: I know, it's great. The best part is that everyone is in such a heated debate about it.

feral cat dad: I have no clue what's even happening but I'm not gonna stop this unless Katsuki or Hitoshi says something.

foil-mecha: ourclassrightnow.jpg

schrodinger better run: Todoroki, please. It's not that deep, man.

foil-mecha: I don't think he cares, honestly.

nat20: I heard more screaming. Vlad King is starting to get concerned.

foil-mecha: They said they are twins and Midoriya's trying to ask why Katsuki's mother cheated on his father. This is the funniest thing, honestly.

3:15 PM

Existence Is A Prison

gay salt: Okay, I found the 2006 First Year Sports Festival and I just need you all to see Mr. Aizawa as our age.

gay salt: younglankyaizawamidbattlewithtensei.jpg

foil-mecha: Mr. Aizawa, you were tiny.

feral cat dad: To be fair, I was an idiot kid and didn't eat well until like a week prior to that Sports Festival.

ranch flavored jello: I'll punt kick you, Dad.

feral cat dad: Yeah, yeah, I know. I started eating better after that, I promise.

gay salt: lankyaizawatakingdowntensei.jpg

nat20: Mr. Aizawa was a strong little stringbean.

feral cat dad: If you call me a stringbean again, I'll make you do garbage duty for a month.

nat20: That's normal, Father Collective.

feral cat dad: Curse these children being functional human beings.

President Megaphone: At least we know they clean up after each other and themselves.

President Megaphone: Plus, you were a stringbean, Shouta, so it's a fair statement.

deku deck-you: Wait, I just realized Mr. Aizawa told us he was divorced.

gay salt: Oh yeah, he did and nobody even questioned it!

ranch flavored jello: To be fair, we were busy introducing ourselves.

feral cat dad: Yeah, I was married for a while after high school. Maybe a year, I think.

President Megaphone: 10 months and 17 days from December 2010 to October 2011. I still think it's funny you didn't even spend one birthday married.

farmer toshi: Dad, what happened!?

feral cat dad: Well, you see, I had pressure put on me to get married to a girl I knew because we both weren't out yet as gay and lesbian, respectively, and we both realized during our marriage that it wasn't working so we went through a mutual divorce and are still friends.

President Megaphone: Yeah, Shouta and Sosaki are friends.

life is a nightmare: Shino Sosaki? Mandalay from the Wild Wild Pussycats?

feral cat dad: The one and only.

life is a nightmare; Wow.

9:52 PM

Existence Is A Prison

schrodinger better run: Dating sucks.

feral cat dad: Why, what's up, Pony?

schrodinger better run: My gf broke up with me because she realized I'm actually in Japan. I mean, I told her a hundred times but she never believed me that I was going international. for high school.

deku deck-you: Eh, the trash got rid of itself from what it sounds like.

schrodinger better run: I mean, I'm kind of happy because she never really liked me for more than just saying she was dating a cute girl but I also feel bad about being happy that we're broken up.

ranch flavored jello: Ice cream and cry?

schrodinger better run: Thank you, Toru, it's much appreciated.

2:26 AM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi: Hey, dad?

feral cat dad: Yes?

farmer toshi: Can I sleep in your room?

feral cat dad: Yeah, sure, come on. Don't let the cats out.

farmer toshi: You're not even gonna ask me why?

feral cat dad: Should it matter?

farmer toshi: Well, I don't think so. I just don't want to have another nightmare but usually the caregivers at the orphanage would ask for a good reason.

feral cat dad: Well, you don't need one with me. Just don't let the cats out is my only request. Ai has figured out how to open the kitchen door and will get lost on UA grounds again.

farmer toshi: Kumo is staring at me while I open the door.

feral cat dad: Yeah, he's like that. Just ignore him, focus more of keeping Ai from making a break for it.

farmer toshi: Alright.

11:04 AM

Existence Is A Prison

feral cat dad: Alright, I was going through you kids' files during my free period and Tsunotori, your birthday is today.

schrodinger better run: Oh, I don't like celebrating my birthday. I haven't celebrated it since I was six.

feral cat dad: Why, what happened?

schrodinger better run: My cousin from my biological family made fun of my feet, we got in a fight, and I couldn't explain to defend myself so I got grounded and wasn't allowed to celebrate my birthday so I just haven't celebrated it since then.

feral cat dad: Is there still a day we can celebrate with you that isn't today?

schrodinger better run: I like celebrating my adoption date as my new birthday. October 7th.

feral cat dad: I'll put a reminder for that.

saviour: Wait, are you putting all of our birthdays as reminders?

feral cat dad: Perhaps.

7:15 AM

Existence Is A Prison

foil-mecha: I'm going to the convenience store before school for breakfast in class because I want sandos and energy drinks. Anyone else want? Say yes.

feral  cat dad: YES.

foil-mecha: Are you okay? You responded in like one second.

feral cat dad: I'm just realizing I like someone and I'm suffering.

gay salt: Please.

nat20: Yes.

farmer toshi: Two redbulls and anything with egg, please.

saviour: Fruit if it's there.

pure: Yes.

schrodinger better run: Yes, I'm so hungry.

life is a nightmare: Ham is preferred, please and thank you.

ranch flavored jello: Yes, food.

deku deck-you: Yes, please.

foil-mecha: Everyone will receive redbulls and sandos.

8:15 AM

Existence Is A Prison

foil-mecha: I got held up, there was a villain attack right outside the store when I got there. I'm with food and drink and on my way back.

feral cat dad: I've already written you a pass, it's taped to the wall just inside the gate, have fun delivering food to Hitoshi.

8:25 AM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi: Tokoyami is a god.

farmer toshi: tworedbullsandthreesandos.jpg

nat20: Wow, he likes you.

foil-mecha: Oh, I got three for everyone. I just grabbed a bunch so everyone can pick.

nat20: Be careful at 1b, Mr. Kan is one of those 'bring something for yourself, share it with everyone' type of teachers.

foil-mecha: And I'll tell him to fuck off because us dorm kids didn't eat breakfast this morning.

deku deck-you: Yeah, our poor stove is dead.

ranch flavored jello: It wasn't my fault! I promise! I was just cooking and it died!

feral cat dad: To be fair, it is old. I think that thing's been there since I was in UA.

8:35 AM

Existence Is A Prison

nat20 has started a video chat

[Tokoyami opening door and Vlad King stops teaching and stares at him]

Kid, you're not my student. Your class is down the hall, are you lost? -Unknown

Hey, Pony, Kiyo. Here, pick three each and a drink or two. -foil-mecha

Young man, you can't just waltz into my classroom and hand unsolicited food to only two students. -Unknown

[Kiyomi and Pony are shown grabbing their sandos and redbulls from the large bag Tokoyami came in with]

You're right, I'm not. Ibara, Kageya, Seiko, come get yours too. I found a cool one I think you'll like, Ibara. -foil-mecha

Oh? What is it? -saviour

Well, I heard you say you like apples and melon. I found you a sando with both. -foil-mecha

I'm in love with you. -saviour

Sure, yeah Get your food, I need to get to 1-A. -foil-mecha

You should be in there now! This isn't your class! -Unknown

Sir? Sir. I really don't care. I have a pass from Mr. Aizawa and I'm literally about to leave. Our oven broke in the dorms so none of us ate breakfast this morning. I went to get us all breakfast and got held up with a villain attack. Kindly, sir, I think even Nezu would be unhappy if even a single one of us hero course students weren't eating breakfast this close to the Sports Festival. So, you feel free to carry on your lesson. Let just the five of your students  eat their breakfast. I promise, it won't disrupt you further than  it has. -foil-mecha

Fine. -Unknown

nat20 has ended the video chat

gay salt: I love Tokoyami. I do.

foil-mecha: My mothers and fathers didn't raise a carpet, I don't exist to be stepped on by authority figures.

nat20: Thanks, Fumi. I'm starving.

foil-mecha: Anything for my friends.

ranch flavored: ALL HAIL FOOD GOD TOKOYAMI

feral cat dad: Bringer of Energy Drink, Keeper of the Sando.

gay salt: We all love you, Fumi.

foil-mecha: What a time to be alive, being adored by my peers and teacher AND getting to tell off an annoying teacher?

feral cat dad: God, yes, sando time. Gimme.

gay salt: aizawaeatingasandolikeaferalcat.jpg

nat20: Thanks, I'm scarred for life having witnessed Feralzawa.

farmer toshi: I love you, Fumi.

foil-mecha: Seems that's everyone's sentiment this morning.

farmer toshi: I'll get a crush, fucker, don't tempt me.

foil-mecha: Alright, alright.

Taglist: @everythingisstardust 

#mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #juzo honenuki #kuroiro shihai #shinsou hitoshi #katsuki bakugou #ibara shiozaki #aizawa shouta #monoma neito #pony tsunotori #aoyama yuuga #hagakure tooru #fumikage tokoyami #yamada hizashi #kan sekijirou #snoweywrites #aizawa we agreed no more cats au #tw period mention #tw menstruation mention #tw food mention #tw nightmare mention #tw death mention #tw cursing #tw caps

[celosiaa]

ill for the holidays

Summary: “You know what I’ve just remembered?”

“What?”

“The Christmas you got ill while you were living in the archives,” Jon says, smile evident in his tone. “Do you remember?”

History repeats itself, often in cruel ways. This time, however-- Jon's love and care remain a wonderful constant, as Martin finds himself once again ill on Christmas.

CW: illness, discussion of dysphoria

(PS this timeline is not accurate, but imagine with me that the Prentiss incident happened later on in 2016, so Martin was stuck living in the archives over the holidays.  Also Martin is trans because I said so lol)

tag list: @captaincravatthecapricious @airborneglitter @kindakola

“Bless you, darling,” Jon calls softly from the doorway of their bedroom, two steaming mugs of tea in his hands.

“Ergh,” is all Martin has the energy to reply before he pitches forward again, stifling three more harsh sneezes into his elbow before leaning back against the pillows with a sigh.

“Bless you again,” Jon says, handing him one of the steaming mugs. “And happy Christmas.”

Smiling through watery eyes, Martin carefully takes the mug. Jon cannot help but smile wider when the band on his left ring finger glints in the morning sun—the ring they had both decided would count as their Christmas presents this year.

“Happy Christmas, dear,” he says hoarsely as Jon runs a hand through his hair, pressing down on the locks which stand on end in the wake of restless sleep. “And thank you for the tea.”

“It’s no trouble,” Jon whispers, bending over to kiss Martin’s too-hot forehead. “You should probably take these as well—”

Reaching toward the nightstand, he grabs the box of tissues and tosses them into Martin’s lap before crawling back into bed himself. As Jon rearranges the blanket around them, Martin immediately presses up against him and tips his head to rest on his bony shoulder—a sure sign that he’s not feeling well at all.

“I’m sorry you’re ill, love,” Jon hums lowly, pressing a kiss into Martin’s hair.

“No, I’m sorry,” Martin replies, pausing for a moment to sniff wetly. “I’m sorry I’m ill on our first married Christmas.”

Jon can’t help but huff out a laugh at this.

“You know what I’ve just remembered?”

“What?”

“The Christmas you got ill while you were living in the archives,” he says, smile evident in his tone. “Do you remember?”

“Oh god, I thought I would die of embarrassment,” Martin moans, turning his face to nuzzle into Jon’s shoulder.

“It wasn’t all that bad,” Jon argues, determined to let this be an amusing memory rather than an embarrassing one.

“That’s because you were nearly plastered the whole time,” Martin says, picking up his head to look at Jon, eyes sparkling good-naturedly.

“Wh—I was not plastered!” Jon sputters indignantly as Martin laughs.

“Nearly plastered. And I have a feeling you don’t remember it all anyway. So let me tell it to you.”

“Fine, fine,” Jon gives in with a smile, planting a kiss on Martin’s cheek. “Tell me everything, darling.”

---

(December 2016)

It’s holiday season at the Magnus Institute, and Tim has single-handedly decided that this will be their biggest celebration yet. Martin knows he’s doing it in a gesture of kindness; knows that the very existence of this massive extravaganza is an effort to bring the holidays to him, since he cannot leave the archives—yet he finds himself struggling through every smile, every drink, every song.

God, I’d give anything not to be ill right now.

His illness has been steadily worsening over the past few days, starting with a light dripping from his nose into his throat, lowering his voice a bit for the day. Not that he had particularly minded this—the voice dysphoria that often plagued him was quite pleased, in fact, but he could do without the soreness that tempted him into coughing near constantly. The days following had been spent battling ever-growing congestion—sinuses packed full, lungs not far behind. It was particularly irritating to him that this would happen now, during the holidays, after he hasn’t even seen the outside world for months. No one in the archives has been ill so far this season, so where could he have possibly picked this up?

Probably just a bit run down.

Something got me that didn’t hit whoever carried it in.

Scrubbing a hand down his face, he leans back in his chair, watching the party around him as he desperately sniffs back the wetness threatening to drip from his nose. Of course, he had taken every possible precaution—loading himself fully with decongestants, cough suppressants, and fever-reducers, but it seems it might all have been for naught. Admittedly, most of the medications had been expired, having sat in the office first aid kit for years. He hadn’t been able to go to the chemist himself, and refused to even consider asking anyone to pick some things up for him. It had already been embarrassing enough asking Sasha to bring him some tampons—though of course she had been lovely, it was not an experience he wished to repeat.

He takes a shaking breath.

Just stop thinking about it.

Just have a drink, and maybe you’ll be alright.

Tim and Sasha are dominating the makeshift dance floor, both of their hair peppered with sparkling confetti, Tim’s neck adorned with garland and tinsel. The way their bodies move so freely, so naturally with the music, grinning drunkenly at one another all the while can’t but melt Martin’s expression into a fond smile. Catching his eye for a moment, Tim winks at him—grin spreading even wider, and pulling a blush onto Martin’s cheeks.

Prick, he thinks, smiling back through his beet red flush.

Scanning further to the left, he finds Jon standing against the wall, cornered by the bloke from research Martin knows fancies him. He squints a bit at the two of them, trying to read Jon’s expression, relieved to find a bit of discomfort there before—

Jon laughs. Heartily, and with a rare, gorgeous smile across his face.

Martin feels as if he could sink into the floorboards.

What is wrong with you?

Jon has a right to date whoever he damn well pleases.

Not like you’d ever have a chance anyway.

He sighs, but the breath catches in his chest, pulling him into a painful coughing fit—hastily stifled behind both his elbow and his closed lips. As he attempts to get himself under control, he glances back around the room, hoping no one has seen him—and with no small measure of dismay, notices that Tim and Sasha are approaching his table, arm in arm.

Shit shit shit

He sniffs hastily between coughs, swiping his sleeve over his dripping nose, disgusted with himself even as he does so. Mercifully, he manages to control the fit by the time they’ve really gotten close, reaching out for his drink at once to calm the raging furnace of his throat.

“Martin! There he is, the man of the hour,” Tim booms delightedly, sitting on the folding chair nearest him and pulling Sasha into his lap with a surprised shout.

“Tim! Shame on you,” she teases, swatting at his arm playfully.

“You love it and you know it,” he grins, nuzzling into her shoulder.

Martin uses their distraction as an opportunity to turn away, sniffling urgently against the rising buzz stirring up beneath the bridge of his nose, reverberating through packed sinuses. When he sees them peripherally turning their attention back to him, he plasters a smile back on his face, tipping his pounding head as casually as possible onto one fist.

“Having a good time?” Tim asks, resting his chin on Sasha’s shoulder.

“Y-Yeah! Yeah, it’s great, Tim, really nice job,” he says, trying to force his voice back into somewhat of his normal register.

“Fantastic! Can’t have you missing the holidays, can we? Now that would be a true tragedy!” he replies, clapping Martin jovially on the back.

Martin pitches forward at once, fighting back against his lungs, ready to burst with the jostling.

Not now not now not now

“You alright, Martin?” Sasha asks softly, still running a hand distractedly through Tim’s hair.

Offering her a quick smile, he nods vigorously against a few choked-back coughs, grabbing his drink at once and gulping it down. It barely helps, but it’s enough to get him through the worst of the painful tickling, though his eyes begin to tear with effort.

“Fine, fine, sorry—just choked on something, I dunno,” he lies, voice coming out in a bit of a croak.

“Well you’d better not choke and die before it’s time for karaoke!” Tim bellows. “Couldn’t stand to miss your lovely tenor!”

Martin quirks up a smile at this, blushing at the compliment, as always. Tim knows exactly how to push his buttons, and revels in it.

“We’ll see if there’s anyone still here who’s not too drunk to sing by then,” Sasha replies. “I believe I’m well past that point already.”

“Aw, come on Sasha, you can never be too drunk to sing karaoke! That’s what makes it great!”

They continue arguing like this for a while, and Martin finds his attention drifting back to Jon, who still stands against the far wall. A second person has joined in the conversation with him and the man from research, and Jon’s discomfort seems to have risen again, eyes flitting about for an exit route.

Then they lock on Martin’s.

Martin gives a little gasp, face flushing, the buzzing building in his sinuses at the disturbance. Looking away quickly, he hopes to god that Jon had not seen him staring, but when he looks back, Jon is already crossing the room toward him.

Oh shit.

The pulsing of his sinuses only continues to grow—of course Jon would be coming to talk to him now, when he’s a right mess, when he can feel congestion rising in his nose and throat.

I have to get out of here, he decides, extracting himself abruptly from the table.

“Hey, where are you going?” Tim calls after him, but Martin cannot bring himself to turn around—making a beeline for the men’s bathroom with all the energy he can muster.

As he ducks into the room, he sweeps his eyes around to check for any other occupants before grabbing desperately at the paper towels hanging over the sink. He barely lifts them in time to catch the painful sneezes that double him over—immediately causing his head to spin, coming one after the other in wet, heaving bursts. When at last his nose allows him to rest, he sinks down onto the floor of the bathroom, back braced against the wall. With all the effort he can summon, he does his best to clear his sinuses of their ghastly blockage—to no avail, the force of the breaths merely pushing his lungs into yet another coughing fit.

God, this is miserable.

It is in the midst of this coughing that the door opens, revealing Jon—who stares down at him in shock, frozen in the doorway for several seconds. Martin is quite certain he would rather sink beneath the earth, never to return than to be caught here in this moment.

Oh god oh god oh god

“…Martin? Are you alright?” Jon asks at last, recovering himself a bit and closing the door behind him.

“I-I’b fi—heh—” is all Martin can manage, consonants rounded out with congestion before his breath begins to hitch, desperately rubbing at his nose to keep control of itself while Jon watches him.

Jon furrows his brow, apparently unimpressed with this performance of “fine.” Crouching down slowly on the ground beside him, he peers concernedly into Martin’s face, which instantly flares up with heat.

I’m in hell. I’ve died, and this is hell.

“What is it?” Jon asks, so softly that Martin feels his heart could burst. “Are you ill?”

Damn it all.

If Jon has managed to guess the truth upon seeing him, Martin supposes there’s no way to hide it from him now—so he settles instead for trivialization.

“It’s fide, Jod—dod’ worry,” he croaks, wincing at his own pronunciation and sniffing in response.

Great. Excellent. Truly convincing.

“Hmm,” Jon replies articulately, before pressing the cool back of his palm to Martin’s scorching forehead—nearly killing Martin on the spot with the shock of it.

Oh Christ oh Christ

Jon pulls his hand back with a displeased huff, and a violent fever chill runs up the length of Martin’s spine.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” he demands, short and snappish.

Something about his tone tingles at the back of his mind, drawing the words from him unbidden.

“Because…because I didn’t want to ruin the holiday, and Tim was so kind to set up this big party so I could celebrate, and I just…I just couldn’t bear the thought of spoiling it,” he says, the words spilling out of him in a rush.

He immediately clamps a hand over his mouth, gasping in horror at his own honesty. Jon looks about as shocked as he feels, alcohol undoubtedly leaving his expression unguarded.

“Wh—I…Martin, I—”

Jon is saved from his stammering by a fit of heavy sneezing, hastily stifled into Martin’s pathetic little hoard of paper towels. Disturbed by the sudden convulsions, his chest begins to flutter into a coughing fit once again—a bit harder to stifle now due to the sheer force of it. When at last he is allowed a brief respite, he leans his head back against the wall, breaths wet and heaving as he fights against the renewed dizziness.

“Christ, that sounds awful,” Jon mutters, reaching up to hand him more paper towels.

“Thadks,” Martin replies hoarsely, both in response to the paper towels and the insult.

Jon watches concernedly for a few moments, worrying at his bottom lip while Martin rubs the paper against the tender inflammation of his nose, desperately trying to ease the constant buzzing.

“Look, Martin, you’re not well—” Jon begins, before cutting himself off. “I-I mean, you know that, of course you know that, but—”

He breaks off again, clearing his throat uncomfortably.

“I’ve got some medicine in my office. Do you think you could make it back there?”

Martin huffs out a laugh before beginning to stand.

“’Course I can, Jon, I’m not—" he pauses when yet another wave of dizziness washes over him, bracing against the wall where he stands.

Jon reaches out his arms on instinct, but Martin brushes them off at once.

“Sorry, it’s fine. I’m fine.”

“You’re sure?”

When Martin looks back at him, Jon is staring at him with so much open concern that it steals his breath away.

God, he’s gorgeous.

“I’m sure. Th-thank you,” he stammers awkwardly, allowing Jon to lead him back through the outskirts of the party and into the quiet of his office.

Once they’ve arrived, Jon ushers him in quickly, flicking on the desk lamp as he does so. The peacefulness that comes with the closed door is enough to make Martin sigh in contentment, watching distantly as Jon begins to rummage through a cabinet in search of the meds.

“Sit down, Martin,” he orders simply, no heat behind his words.

Martin can’t help but oblige, sinking onto the chair they use when people come to give their statements. As he does so, the pressure in his nose begins to build again, threatening to break through the surface at any moment—and he feels it’s only fair to at least try to avoid a mess.

“J-Jon, d’you—heh—d’you have ti—hh—”

“Right, right, of course, here—”

Jon fumbles hurriedly with a box of tissues that he pulls from the cabinet, nearly dropping them in his haste to hand them to Martin in time. By some miracle, he manages—Martin immediately doubles over into a fit of violent, unforgiving sneezes, which morph steadily into coughing, and then back into sneezing—caught in a seemingly endless cycle of misery. When at last he is able to look up, eyes streaming, Jon has fetched him a glass of water, and holds out a small pile of pills for him to take.

“Here, better hurry before it starts up again,” Jon mutters, shoving his offerings abruptly into Martin’s hands.

“O-oh—thanks,” he stammers, hot shame flooding his cheeks as he swallows them down.

When he looks up, Jon is chewing at his bottom lip again, brows furrowed—an expression that Martin has learned means he’s considering his words carefully. It’s one of those expressions that endears Jon so much to him that he could just get lost in it—and perhaps he does, for he startles at the noise when Jon finally speaks.

“Martin, I—I’m not asking this to pry, a-and it’s none of my business, but—but I’m just…concerned. Are you…are you wearing a binder right now?” Jon asks quietly rubbing a thumb into his own collarbone in a gesture of anxiety.

Fuck.

…I didn’t think he knew.

Instinctively, Martin hunches his shoulders forward, crossing his arms tightly—the mere mention of his chest enough to drag his dysphoria to the surface at the moment.

“N-No, I’m not—shouldn’t when you’re ill,” Martin mutters quickly, dropping his gaze quickly to the floor.

Jon lets out a small sigh of relief.

“Good, that’s good, I—” he breaks off, clearly noticing Martin’s change in posture. “—oh. Martin, I-I’m sorry, did I—”

“It’s alright, it’s not your fault,” Martin cuts in, trying to offer him a small smile. “And it’s…it’s thoughtful of you to ask. Erm.”

He looks back up at last, willing to do anything to make this even just a bit less awkward. What he finds when he does so is not a face overwhelmed with discomfort—but rather one softened with worry, and blushing with…something else as well, though Martin wouldn’t dare to put a name on it. He can’t help the wry smile that pulls one corner of his mouth upward.

“Jon, how many have you had tonight?” he asks, a bit teasingly.

“How many…how many what? Alcoholic beverages?” Jon replies, tilting his head in confusion.

Martin can’t help but laugh properly at this, for which he is thoroughly punished when it turns into a heavy coughing fit.

“Christ, Martin, I-I’m sorry,” Jon stammers, arms reaching out, then floating back to his sides repeatedly, unsure of the proper action to take.

Martin waves him off at once.

“It’s alright, it was rather nice to have a laugh,” still smiling through labored breaths.

Jon can’t help but quirk up a smile in return, face flooding with heat before he hurriedly looks back down.

“Erm—right.”

He coughs awkwardly before continuing.

“W-Well, is there…what else can I do? To help, I mean?”

He’s adorable.

God help me.

“Nothing, nothing—thank you for the meds, I—I suppose we should head back out to the party,” he says, rising slowly from the chair.

“Absolutely not,” Jon says sternly. “I’m taking you to bed, and that’s the end of it.”

Martin’s eyes go wide, another laugh threatening to bubble up in his chest at this choice of words. For Jon not to notice it…that must mean he’s pretty far gone. The way he stands now, tiny and cross and blocking the door, tells Martin that he ought to just give in and save himself the trouble.

“Alright, alright,” he complies, raising his hands. “But that means you’ll have to talk to Tim, and you know he gets weepy when he’s drunk.”

Jon nods his head in acceptance, with such solemnity that Martin has to cover his mouth to hide his foolish grin.

Oh, Jon.

“I’ll talk to him. Just…just try to get some sleep, alright?” Jon replies, grabbing Martin’s hand as he passes by to step into the hallway.

Martin’s face instantly becomes a wide-eyed tomato, and Jon drops his hand at once, stepping back clumsily.

“Sorry, erm…I’ll…I’ll see you on Monday,” he screeches before bolting back into the crowd.

Left in the wake of this, Martin can’t help but laugh and savor the feeling of Jon’s hand in his.

---

(present day)

“Oh god,” Jon moans, face buried in his hands.

Martin laughs hysterically now, wrapping his arms around Jon’s shoulders as his entire body shakes with laughter.

“Sorry love—I’m sorry, it’s just so funny,” he giggles, wiping the tears beginning to stream down his face.

“Glad to hear my mortification is so funny to you, Martin,” he huffs, pouting dramatically and crossing his arms over his chest.

Martin swings a leg over him, straddling his thin form and leaning down to cup his face.

“Oh, silly me, did I forget to say ‘adorable?’”

He kisses Jon’s forehead.

“’Handsome?’”

He kisses his jaw.

“’Charming?’”

This time, Jon wraps his arms around Martin’s neck, pulling him in for a proper kiss—smiling against him when he lets out a soft noise of pleasure. Jon parts his lips in response, coaxing Martin deeper, cherishing the way he can feel the warmth of his body growing ever warmer above him. Pulling him back down beside him, he tangles his body up in Martin’s, passion intertwining with the gentle softness Martin always offers him. Several minutes pass by this way, and Jon starts to think he could lie here forever, just lazily kissing in their bed. When Martin at last breaks it off, it’s with such urgency that Jon can tell instantly a sneeze is on the horizon.

“Here,” he says wryly, plucking a tissue from the box and handing it to him.

Martin takes it as graciously as possible, face continuing to screw up as his breaths hitch. At last, he lets it go—turning away from Jon a bit as he sneezes once, twice, thrice into the tissue, and finishing with moan as he rubs at his sinuses.

“Bless you,” Jon whispers, propped up on one elbow and rubbing soothing circles over his chest.

Turning back now, Martin grimaces up at him.

“I’ve probably gotten you ill now, Jon. We shouldn’t have done that.”

“Oh, we shouldn’t?” Jon teases, kissing a trail down Martin’s jawline and into his neck, pleased at the way this makes him squirm.

“I rather think we should keep going,” he murmurs, lifting his head to look at him, lips barely hovering above Martin’s own.

With a grin so full of love he’s fit to burst, Martin pulls him back down—and they spend the rest of the day in such warmth as can only be found in each other’s arms.

#tma #the magnus archives #tma fic #jonmartin #tma sickfic #sickfic #trans martin blackwood #cw dysphoria #cw illness #my writing

[kortsitron]

Am I Less of Man Than You?

Relationship: Loki × Pre-T!TransMale! Reader

Location: Avengers Tower

Warnings: Swearing, Dysphoria

(F/N) - friend's name

(F/N/N) - Friend's nick name

A/N

Small reminder, I'm not a English speaker, so I'm sorry for every mistake. I hope you will enjoy this one shot ^^

(Y/N) was in his room. He was laying on the bed looking on the ceiling. Everything was silent and dark. Nothing amazing in the middle of the night.

Male was thinking about everything what happen today.

He met his old friend from school. It wasn't planned, just accident. But it doesn't change the fact that it wasn't a great meeting.

Flashback

"(Deadname)! Long time no see." (F/N) said looking at (Y/N). (F/N) was bigger male who knew (Y/N) for long time. He liked him, but he was still calling him by his deadname and pronouns that was making (Y/N) dysphoric as hell.

"It's (Y/N)." (Y/N) laughed nervously, hand was on the back of his neck. He was stressed by this situation. "I told you that long time ago." He laughed again.

"I thought that you get over it." He said smirking. (Y/N) felt like something was building inside his chest. It was anxiety. He would be happy if he could just run away to calm down a little.

"I-it's not a phase. It's serious, (F/N/N). You know me, I would never fake something like this."

"I still don't get it. Why don't you just accept that you are a fucking girl and you always be a girl?" He said annoyed. (Y/N)'s breathing was slow and heavy.

"This is not how it works." Smaller male said. His voice was breaking a little bit.

"But you know that you never will be a real man, right?" (Y/N) felt that time stopped. He didn't knew what he should do about it. He felt tears coming to his eyes. (Y/N) was trying to stop and won't made them fall. "This is a girls body. If you were a guy, you wouldn't look like that. That body makes you less of man than me or any other guy. You need to fucking understand it."

"I-I... I gotta go." (Y/N) quickly said and started to walking away feeling that he is crying. It was too much for him. Trans topics were his weak spot.

End of Flashback

Now, he was lying on the bed, thing about it and feeling that his eyes were watering. He felt so bad in his skin at the moment. He wanted just be himself.

(Y/N) started crying. He just couldn't act like nothing happened.

After a few minutes of crying he decided to the kitchen to drink so water.

He took his favourite hoodie and got out of his room.

Everything was silent. Everybody was sleeping, so (Y/N) wasn't scared that someone will see him being a mess.

When he was almost in the kitchen, he saw that light in the kitchen was on. He felt stress coming to him and hitting him like a wave.

He decided to put on good on his head and act normal.

He went to the kitchen and saw Loki reading a book.

"Loki?" (Y/N) looked at God and then quickly looked in the other direction, avoiding Loki's green eyes. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you sleep or something?"

"I could ask you the same question. But if you didn't saw, I'm reading a book." Loki said. (Y/N) felt that he was looking at him. He was trying to act normal.

(Y/N) tried to get a glass. He got it, but he dropped it. Loki quickly stood up and he looked at the floor and than at him. (Y/N) looked at him with red eyes. God's went from 'cold and judging look' to 'worried look'.

"(Y/N), is everything fine with you?" He asked looking into (Y/N)'s eyes.

"Am I less of a man than you?" He asked. His voice broke and he felt his eyes watering.

Loki was surprised after hearing the question. He just signed.

"I think you should talk to someone about your troubles." He said softly slowly coming to him. "Do you want me to be that person?"

"Y-yes."

"Go to your room, I will take care of this glass on the floor."

"Ok." (Y/N) said and he went to his room.

He waited for Loki at the bed, trying to calm down. Light was coming from lamp on his desk.

Then he heard door opening and he saw black haired God. God sat next to him. Loki waited a few seconds before saying anything.

"What made you ask me a question about being a man?"

"I met my old friend and we were talking..." Smaller male told everything that happened today. "And then he just told me that my body makes a less of man than him or any other male."

"(Y/N)," He said softly, touching (Y/N)'s cheek gently. "You know it's not truth, right?"

"But my body... H-he is right. There is no guy who would have a body like this."

"It's just a body. It doesn't make you less of man. Until you know who you are, your body doesn't matter. It doesn't change who you truthly are. Remember the thing I told you some time ago?" (Y/N) nodded. "Say it please.

"One day I will be who I truthly am."

"Yes, that's it. I know that being the way you are is pretty hard, but I know you can do it." He said. (Y/N) without thinking hugged Loki. He just needed that. Just a little bit of closeness. "I wish I could give you my shape shifting powers." He said hugging him back.

"Wait." (Y/N) said letting himself go to look into Loki's green eyes. "You can shape shift? Why didn't you told me about it?"

"I didn't knew that you would be interested in knowing that." He signed, hand on the back of his neck.

"Loki, this is amazing. I mean, I would love to have that powers too. Not only because of being the way I am, but it seems really cool."

"It is in fact really nice." He agreed, nodding his head with a small smile on his face.

"Uh... Loki?" (Y/N) said shyly, looking away, blushing.

"Yes? What is it, (Y/N)?"

"Thank you. I really appreciate that you listened to me."

"I'm glad I could make you feel better. Is there anything more I could do to make you happy?" He asked, putting his hand on (Y/N)'s. Loki's hand was cold and gave (Y/N) shivers. Loki giggled at his reaction.

"Could you, like, maybe, stay with me tonight?" With every word, (Y/N)'s voice was more quiet.

Loki smiled and kissed (Y/N)'s forehead, making his blush more.

"I will stay. I will there for you when you will need me, dear."

#Loki x reader #loki x reader #loki x male reader #loki x trans reader #loki x trans male reader #loki x ftm reader #loki x y/n #loki+laufeyson+x+male!reader #loki+x+male!reader #loki+x+male+reader #loki laufeyson x male reader #loki oneshot

[jack-is-lost]

PATCHES & PINS (CH 2)

A/N: This story revolves around a transgender, female to male, original character. LGBTQ+ topics are a given within this story. Gender and body dysphoria will come up as well since he is not out to his family — only close friends. If you dislike such a story premise please understand you do not have to interact with it at all. Leaving hate comments will be removed. Of course, constructive feedback is always welcomed.   Pairing: Eventually Marko x OTMC Story is still in progress and updates will be slow Eventually it will be posted on A03 once I’m a few chapters in

Chapter one | Currently on Chapter two | Chapter 3 coming soon.

Chapter two

“Stayed up late again, didn’t you?” Jay groaned into the couch cushions as Tyler braced his weight on the back of it to peer down at his gremlin of a sister. “With a sleep schedule like this, you might be able to snag an overnight job at the store.”

Tyler received another mumbling mess for a response, but he knew the telltale answer. It was always the same; ‘Don’t wanna’ or ‘No time’.

“C’mon, Jay,” he shook the couch, the motion of it getting her to roll over at least and look up at him. “You know it’s a good idea. You’ll be turning eighteen soon, and you have no job history under your belt.” 

“Ty…” Jay sighed out, searching for strength. “I know that, of course. It’s just—”

“—No, no, none of the ifs, ands, and buts, Jay.” He cut his sister off, arms crossing. Sometimes it was like Tyler was trying to be the father figure. Not that they were missing one by any means. “It is the summer. A good time to work a temporary job, at least.” Jay sat up and ran fingers through unruly hair, trying to calm it down. “Fine, I’ll walk around a bit and put applications in, okay?” Anything to get you off my ass, Jay added silently. “Head over to the market.” Came the simple reply, but a smile was there nonetheless. They both knew the store was always looking for overnight stockers. It was the job Tyler worked at for the longest time before getting a spot at the town's mechanic shop. “Will do. Now, let me lay here in peace, please, or make a pot of coffee.” Tyler rolled his eyes dramatically but didn’t say anything snide. Instead, he headed for the kitchen to wash the pot out and start a new batch. Their parents wouldn’t be home for a few more hours, both working afternoon shifts, and Jay could lay about till then. “Oh, by the way,” Tyler called out from the kitchen. “I changed the laundry over to the dryer while you were napping.” Jay peered over the couch at the words and into the adjacent room, staring at his back with big eyes. “And you might want to hide your newly bought jeans from mom.” Oh, yeah, he definitely saw the giant tear in the knee. Jay slid down into the cushions face first, groaning once more. 

Shit. . . . “Edgar!” he hollered out while stepping into the comic shop from the cooling night air. A rustling noise, a sound of a box hitting the ground, greeted Jay before a head popped up over the counter. “What’s the deal, man,” Edgar grumbled out before ducking back down. Obviously startled by the sudden outburst and now irritated at picking up inventory from the floor. “The deal?” Jay stopped at the counter, plopping his bag there to unzip it. “You left my ass at the cemetery, and—” he pulled out the jeans, “— my pants tore because of you.” Edgar stood up straight to look at the clothing, quickly noticing a nice long gash in the overall pristine trousers. “I wasn’t wearing them so how is it my fault?”

“Don’t,” Jay glared and was ready to explain the reasoning when Alan walked out from the back. He looked equally exhausted. “I’ll fix them.” He spoke up while coming to a stop next to his brother. “Why? It adds character.” “Shut up, Ed.” Alan grabbed the clothing and slung it over his shoulder. It was clear to him that Jay was avoiding trouble. They looked new, and Alan knew how much their parents were strikingly different. If any of their clothes tore, it was no problem — hardly even noticed by their stoned-out mom and dad. Jay’s parents, however, that was another story. “Thanks, man.” “Wear something more worn out next time,” Edgar muttered while bending down to pick up the box to continue his work. “Next time?” Jay followed the brother along the counter, stepping up behind Edgar as he walked into an aisle. “I’m not doing a ‘next time’.” 

One time was enough. “Look,” the boy turned to face him, a scowl already present, but when wasn't it? “You made it out with no trouble, right? Didn’t get caught, right?” Jay eyed him, not sure where this was going. “...Yeah?” “Then why stop? You need the practice to become a proper hunter.” “Ed—” “—Edgar.” Jay rolled his head along his shoulders, “Point is," he breathed out. "I never wanted to be a hunter.” This made Edgar’s brows lift with speculation. “Then why read so much about monster-bashing?”

“I…” Jay started then shoved his hands into his jacket, turning away, “Forget it. I’ll be back tomorrow to grab my jeans.” He needed a break from these two. Jay headed outside of the establishment, almost scrapping shoulders with a customer while storming out, but he didn't care. It was hard for Jay to explain his mere interest in folklore. It wasn’t to go on make-believe hunting sprees, not at all. Supernatural shit didn’t even exist — it was all made up for entertainment, nothing else. Blindly Jay walked down the boardwalk, heading out toward the shopping district further into town. His gaze was more on the ground or sky than straight ahead of him, asking any deities up there to give him some internal strength. He really needed it. Jay hated job hunting, avoided it even. It was just another group of people calling him female pronouns and using his full name — where legal paperwork spoke volumes over him. And the uniforms — they would no doubt show off what little curves Jay constantly made a point to hide, and he hated it. A bump against his shoulder went unaddressed. Jay could care less and didn’t even look back to apologize. It wasn’t until the person spoke up that he even gave pause. “What?” Jay asked while turning around, catching the sight of a genuine smile. “I said, ‘you look better with no mud’.” It was the guy from the cemetery. ( Marko’s POV )

“Thanks?” the voice was soft, if not a little uneasy. Marko shrugged, “No problem. Where were you headin’?” “Oh,” Marko watched the other turn back toward their previous destination. Off in the distance, the shopping district lit up the night sky. If one squinted, they could even see the big, bold neon sign for the market. “Was about to, um,” Marko lifted his brow while waiting. “Put in an application?” “You don’t seem so sure about that?” He asked while holding back a smirk. “Because I’m not?” Again it was said like a question. “Let me guess,” Marko chuckled. “You’d prefer not to work? What are you, a party animal or something?” That received a good laugh. “Fuck, no. Do I look like a frat boy to you?” Marko took the question like an invitation and openly swept his gaze over the one standing before him. Short hair with the sides faded, a hoodie beneath a jacket — how many layers does one need during summer nights — faded jeans, and sneakers. “Ah, nope.” He popped the ‘P’ sound after a second of staring. “I’d say you look more like a guy who…” he hummed in thought, really trying to find the right words. “—Like someone who’d probably fall asleep at a movie theater?” Marko feigned shock, a hand grabbing at his chest. “You’re kiddin’ me, right?” “Nope,” this time he popped the ‘P’ sound. “With all that loud sound effects and shit?” Marko received a nod without hesitation. “Okay,” he drew out the sound, ”How ‘bout horror movies? You cannot tell me you’d sleep through all that noise?” Boring romance movies and dry comedy was one thing, but slasher flicks was another — surely. It took a moment to reply, and Marko watched as the other’s face scrunched up in thought. The answer came in the form of a shrug, “Can’t say I’ve tried that, exactly.” Without a second thought, Marko grabbed the teen’s wrist — like he did last night, and headed in an entirely new direction. “Whoa— whoa, where’s the rush, my dude?” “Child’s Play just came out, and I am taking your ass to the movies.” “You are what?” The voice behind him laughed. “I don’t even know your name, and you’re taking me on a date?” Marko looked over his shoulder with a wicked smirk. “The names Marko.”

( Jay’s POV ) Jay stared at the back of his head while being guided toward The Sash Mill Cinema. Was this normal? Everything felt natural around this guy, and it left Jay feeling a little baffled. Marko didn’t even bat an eye at the lame joke. He didn’t think I was serious about it, did he?  He stood beside the other while Marko paid for tickets. He didn’t even comment about it when the other ordered a large bucket of popcorn and two fat sodas. It wasn’t until they plopped down inside the semi-lit room, waiting for the movie even to start, when Marko spoke up again. He looked completely at home, too, with boots resting upon the seat in front of him. “So, do I get the courtesy of your name too?” “Oh, uh, it’s Jay.” His gaze fell to the popcorn in his lap, where Marko had placed it once sitting down. “I could have pitched in some, y’know?” “Don’t worry about it, man. Besides,” he reached for a handful of popcorn, a boot resituating to lean across the other. “How could I expect a jobless teen to pay for something?” The words didn’t have any heat to them, but Jay still gave a side-eye-glare. “I had some cash on me.” “Then you get to pay for dinner afterwards.” The comeback was quick. Does he even think before speaking, Jay wondered. “If that’s the plan then I hope you dig pizza.” “Pizza’s good, yeah.” Marko agreed as the room around them dimmed, the movie starting. “Shh — don’t want to piss off paid customers.” he snickered. Jay looked around the theater and noticed a handful of people here and there. It wasn’t overly crowded, which was surprising for a Saturday, but still full enough. With that in mind, Jay didn’t make any comments as the screen lit up and began playing, fingers blindly grabbing some popcorn.  It wasn’t even three minutes into the film when Marko chuckled under his breath. Jay glanced at him then back at the screen, trying to figure out how getting shot in the chest was meant to be funny. He didn’t have to wonder long as Marko leaned closer to him, voice quiet. “You’d think he would have ducked after shooting. He did it multiple times before that. And the blood, what did he do? Stick his hand into paint?” Marko leaned away again to sip his soda. Jay smiled a little. He guessed it could be kind of funny when thinking outside of the movie. “Did he just blow up the entire shop by chanting?” “Holy shit, he did!” “Shhh!” A couple a few seats behind them grumbled. Marko simply flipped them off without even looking.  And that’s how the whole film went. Marko, trying to keep his laughter to a minimum as a toy doll went on a murdering spree and Jay, almost choking on popcorn from it all. Not once did he feel bored enough to pass out. . . . As they walked out of the theater, Jay bumped against Marko’s shoulder, glad that their height wasn’t much different. Being short always bugged Jay since most men seemed tall, bulky. It was another image he couldn’t be or attain. The motion of being bumped was answered with an arm draped across Jay’s shoulder. “You didn’t fall asleep even once. I’d say that is a point for me, zero for you.” Marko smirked as they shuffled together near the closest pizza establishment, a little family-owned gig near the theater. “Are we keeping points here, really?” Jay smiled back. “Remind me next time.” Marko chuckled lightly as his hand slid down to give a slap to Jay’s back before dropping altogether. “Oh, next time you say?” he pulled open the door wide enough a family of four could have walked through. “You think you’re lucky enough to get a second date?” Jay rolled his eyes as he stepped inside the shop, the smell of breadsticks and pizza hitting his senses like a brick wall. “Still on about the whole date comment, aren't you?” “I don’t see why not,” he simply said while stopping at the cashier, “Or you saying I’m not hot enough to date?” Again his words held no real malice to them, just a light inquisitive tone. Jay eyed him for a moment before the girl behind the counter spoke up, drawing him to make a decision. At the mention of the buffet being half off, Marko boastfully announced his opinion before already hitting the line of food. It left little room to argue, and Jay paid for the price, pocketing the remaining bills in his back pocket. He grabbed the cups offered by her as she popped her gum. “How’d you snag a hottie like him, gal?” her hand propped up her chin as she leaned against the counter, gaze not even on Jay as she asked. Who, at the pronoun, bit the inside of his cheek. He couldn’t tell if her words were honest wonderment or layered with less positivity than her brightly colored wristbands. “None of your business.” “Sheesh, snobby much?” She rolled her eyes nice and slow before turning her attention to the staff working in the backroom.  Jay didn’t see a reason to correct her. Not for implying his gender or calling him a snob. It didn’t matter much, anyway. Family, teachers — they all used them. It was an uphill battle that Jay stalled by sitting at the bottom. The Frog brothers were different, and Sam figured it out without any help by tagging along with them. It was a safe little corner for Jay to be in, even if a little crazy. He walked the buffet, grabbing a slice of pepperoni and some garlic sticks, even after Marko grabbed a booth — plate stacked. Jay gradually took his time to pace through the small selection as his eyes wandered over to the curly-haired boy. Not once did he ever mention female nouns the entire night. He, overall, treated Jay like any other dude. Did he know any different? Jay sat down and laughed as Marko bluntly commented on his plate. Apparently, pepperoni was too plain, and Jay needed to live a little and try it with olives. He watched Marko stuff his face and lick salt off fingers, nonplussed by the display of eating, and he couldn’t help but think this guy just didn’t care — didn’t care about Jay’s appearance or title in life. Something that often weighed him down. It was a relief, in a sense — to not care. “C’mon, Jay, seriously try it.”

The pizza drooped in front of his face, and Jay reluctantly leaned forward for a bite. “Fuck—” he wiped at his mouth instantly. “— that is WAY too much jalapeno, man.” Marko laughed at the expression across the teen’s face. “Nah,” he breathed out. “Your tongue is just a fuckin’ wuss, is all.” Jay gulped down his soda before wiping at his mouth again. “Are you sure it isn’t your tongue that has long since left the planet?” What did they do to that pizza? Let it marinate in jalapeno juice? “I can guarantee you that my palate is top-notch.” “Sure, sure.” “Hey,” the girl from before stood by their booth, hand on hip. “We’re closing up in twenty-minutes.” “What time is it?” Jay asked as he looked outside the nearest window, noting that the parking lot was practically empty. Was it that late already? “Almost ten,” she simply stated before openly checking out Marko, gaze fanning over his open black coat that showed a white tank. Not surprisingly, Marko gave her an equal amount of attention with his gaze. Jay stood up, “Think we should head out.” he grabbed the last breadstick and headed for the exit, stepping out into the cooling air. It took another minute before Marko emerged with a cheeky smile, a folded paper between his fingers. “Got her digits, huh?” “Easily,” Marko slid it into his coat pocket. “Must be my charm.” Jay stepped off in the direction of his street. The walk home was going to take a good thirty-minutes, but he didn’t mind. All the walking around kept him in shape. And so what if Marko nabbed the girl’s number. It wasn’t like they were on a serious date — just two guys having a good time, and jealousy was not about to ruin the good mood. “Where are we heading next?” Marko asked while easily getting in step next to Jay. “The boardwalk stays open later during summer hours. I’m sure we can snag a few spots on some rides before they shut down.” Jay kept walking away from the boardwalk, hands in his coat. “I’m heading home.” “Already?” Marko placed a hand on the other's shoulder, causing them both to pause. “The night’s still young.” “My parents will start to worry if I am not back by eleven.” “But you were out roaming the graveyard way past midnight yesterday?” Jay cut his gaze away, fingers fiddling with the seam inside his pocket where a string had come loose months ago. “I snuck out last night to help some friends, is all.” It would be hard to explain everything, wouldn’t it? The valid reason he was out there among tombstones. Even if Jay explained it, what would stop Marko from instantly labeling him off as a weirdo? “Besides,” Jay spoke up before Marko could ask for further details. “Why were you even out there? Are you a grave robber or something?” He didn’t know anything about this guy, not really.

Marko must have noticed the way Jay’s tone had shifted, and the uneasy tension was back. He placed his hands up in the way of surrender, pale fingers a stark difference to the gloves covering everything else. “No grave robbing by my hands, promise.” They stared at one another for a second before Marko’s hands dropped, his voice filling in the thick silence around them. “If you don’t want to elaborate, I get it — all’s good, but let me at least walk you home.” Jay shook his head without even considering the notion. “Just hit me up later or something. I’d rather walk home alone.” “Okay, okay.” Marko stepped away, hands in his own coat and looking relaxed. It seemed like nothing could sour his mood despite how their night was ending. “I’ll chat with you later, Jay.” “Yeah, see ya’.” And Jay turned  around without looking back, bag slung over one shoulder and drawing his hood up. So what if their night ended off on an odd note, and Jay didn’t apply for any jobs? His sneakers scrapped along the cracked pavement, thoughts turning inside his head like a storm. For the most part Jay enjoyed the night. It went from shitty to fun, and that’s what really counts, right? “Tyler is going to be pissed at me.”

#My writing #Patches & Pins #the lost boys #fanfiction #LGBTQ+ story #Transmale OC #Marko x OTMC

[iggyalfi2319]

Hoodie and rag doll

Warning: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, mention of self-harm, mention of dead characters, mention of dysphoria and misuse of pronouns. Small deaging.

If I forget to mention anything else that makes you uncomfortable, please tell me.

=

Janus waited for the others to leave.

Again, they hadn't been invited for the video.

At this point they were getting used to it, so that wasn't the main reason of why they were holding back their tears and trying very hard to quiet their sobs.

Hearing the others trash talking about them didn't trigger it either but it made it worse.

How the Hell Remus took all the insults and simply brush them off when he first time showed up?

"Take it easy guys, girls and non-binary pals. PEACE OUT!"

Thomas's catchphrase pulled Janus out of their thoughts.

"Another video who went wonderfully well!" Roman said proudly. "And no one to bother us!"

At that Virgil snorted in satisfaction while Patton nodded happily.

Logan remained stoic as usual, but Janus picked up the slight frown on his face.

The snake Side quickly ducked in the corner when the bespectacled man looked in their direction.

*oh no... He saw me....he saw me... He-*

"Now this is over, I suggest we go ingest necessary nutrients." Logan said, adjusting his glasses.

"Let's make a famILY lunch together!" Patton said happily.

Everyone went to the kitchen.

Janus sighed in relief.

When Logan came out.

Again the deceitful Side stiffened.

The Logic Side placed a plate with a couple of apples on the coffee table before leaving again.

Janus blinked.

Apple was their favorite treat, but why Logan would -

The kitchen's door locked with an audible click.

"..."

Janus came out of their hiding spot and went to the plate of apples.

Pink ladies, Golden, Granny Smith...

They smiled softly and picked up the plate, before going to the sunny spot offered by the big window.

They quietly sat down on the floor, enjoying the sunlight, thinking about what happened earlier.

Despite Remus's pleas to stop, Janus went into Virgil's old room. Again.

They put on his old hoodie, feeling the weight of nostalgia and regret crushing them even more everytime they did.

They lingered in the room, the heavy afterglow of Anxiety still affecting them.

"Please, Janus. Stop punishing yourself like that. It won't make him come back and you know that more than anyone else." Remus sighed. "He made his choice. This isn't your fault in any way."

Janus hissed at him, curling up inside the hoodie.

Whoever Virgil liked it or not, he and Janus were sharing similarities.

That included the hissing, stubbornness and short temper, despite Janus denying it.

"Leave me alone..." The snake Side muttered, not bothering to lie.

"You're only hurting yourself... I'm really worried about you..." Remus said with genuine concern.

"I miss the old times..." Janus hugged themself

"So do I." The Duke rubbed their back. "But you need to move on..."

Janus curled more, the hoodie practically swallowing them.

After a few minutes,

"I need some sun..." They mumbled.

"indeed you do." Remus stood up. "But you know how it will end up if the others catch you, especially Virgil..."

Janus sulked.

Remus sighed.

"I... I have something for you..."

Heterochromatic eyes looked at him.

Before widening at the sight of said "thing".

"you..." Janus' breath itched. "You had it all this time..."

"well, it was very hard to find substitute for the missing pieces..." Remus looked away for a second before handing it with a sad smile. "I fixed it the best I could."

The snake Side snatched it and hugged it tightly, their body shaken by their loud sobs.

"I miss him! I miss them! I miss everyone!"

"I know you do, Jay-Jay." Remus hugged them. "I know..."

He let them cry for a while.

Before gently pulling away.

"geez, thanks to you I'm all snotty covered. Mind doing the same on my back?"

Janus hissed at him, really embarrassed.

Remus wiped their face with his sleeve.

"Careful, you don't wanna stain his hoodie, do you?"

"thanks..." Janus hiccuped softly.

"Don't mention it." Remus grinned.

He looked at the clock.

"now now, it's almost lunch. Maybe you'll have a few minutes of sunlight if you're careful."

Janus nodded before hastily leaving.

*a lot happened since you left, Emo...* Remus thought sadly. *And some things remain unchanged...*

Janus finished the last apple from the plate, before yawning.

When was the last time they did that?

That silly habit of always eating an apple before napping.

The others used to tease them about it.

N-apple-ing Remus dubbed it.

The sunlight was nice.

And the hoodie so warm.

A small nap wouldn't hurt... Right?

Janus lied on the floor and curled up, making themself smaller than they already were.

Soon lunch time was over.

"thanks for the meal, Padre!" Roman exclaimed. "Now, who's up for a Disney marathon?"

With the lack of negative answers, he headed to the living room, followed by the others.

Then, Virgil stopped short.

Roman looked in the same direction.

"isn't that your old hoodie?" Patton said, after looking too.

"I was sure I got rid of it..." Virgil growled.

Roman slowly approached it, about to unsheathe his sword.

Before he could make his next move, octopus tentacles suddenly wrapped around him and his mouth, as well as around Virgil and Patton.

Logan remained unphased, as if he knew it would happen.

"I'm sorry but I cannot let you disturb Jay Jay." Remus said, lifting up the struggling Sides as he snatched his brother's sword.

Logan approached the "hoodie".

"May I?" He asked the Duke.

"as long as you don't wake them up." Remus said. "Thanks for the apples by the way. Looks like Janus appreciated them."

Patton shot a look of betrayal at Logan while Roman and Virgil glared at him.

Said logic Side ignored them and picked up the plate.

He pulled out a tissue and gently wiped Janus' mouth.

"They'll never change." Remus said nostalgically yet with his usual IDGAF tone.

"how did you called that again?" Logan asked.

"Apple napping. N-apple-ing." The green Side grinned.

The other three stopped struggling at that. Especially Virgil.

Wearing his hoodie? Eating apples before a nap?

Wait...

If Janus is sound asleep right now, that would mean...

"Yes, they still have "it"." Remus said, uncharacteristically sad.

He slowly put them down.

"you wake them, I'll kill you." He warned.

He let them go before going to Logan.

"I don't see anything new." The logic Side said, checking Janus' arms and extra arms, who were hugging themself.

Roman, Virgil and Patton were confused.

"well, for one, they wear their gloves all the time after I threatened to tape them permanently, and for two, they will do nothing while wearing the Emo's hoodie." Remus said.

"why is that?" Logan asked. "I thought it was hurting them more than anything else?"

"mentally and emotionally, it's wearing them out." Remus sighed. "But that's the only way to keep them from clawing themselves. Because they didn't want to stain it with blood and washing it would meant washing Virge's smell away."

Virgil had a double take.

Not only he just learned that Janus self harmed, but they were also holding onto his... Smell?

He looked at the sleeping Side.

They looked so sad and yet so peaceful.

He shook his head, blocking the flow of memories.

"What is that thing?" Roman asked, pointing at the said thing that Janus had been hugging tightly.

"isn't he so cute all sleepy like that?" Patton cooed.

"Shhhh!" Remus shushed. "And it's they/them!"

"Thomas use he/him as well as everyone one else here, so I don't see why it would be different for him." Virgil huffed, pointing at Janus.

Remus gritted his teeth, seething.

The reason behind Janus' self harm wasn't only blaming themself for making Virgil leave.

They actually hated themself.

Their appearance, their gender, who they were.

They didn't know who they are supposed to be.

They wanted to help Thomas but being labelled as the bad guy made them feel really conflicted.

Remus immediately supported them when they said they were looking for the person they would like to be and use they/them in the meantime.

Logan pretty much respected their choice.

He had quickly learned to tolerate Janus as a fellow Side.

That Light and Dark labelling was irrelevant as they were all part of Thomas. And so, Logan should care about their well-being as much as the others.

Sadly, when it came to the others, it was easier said than done. Roman's sorting out everything in "Good" or "Evil". Patton wasn't really different. And Virgil being extremely vigilant of not too much.

The arguing went on.

When everyone covered their mouths.

Janus slowly sat up, rubbing their eyes with a sleeve too big for them.

Patton wanted to gush at how adorable they looked, Roman and Virgil trying to resist, the later wondering if his old hoodie was that oversized or if Janus...had shrank down...

"Wemus, I'm sweepy..." They whined softly, hugging the "thing".

"is that...a rag doll?" Patton asked, once the silent spell was gone.

"not any rag doll..." Virgil muttered. "It's Chimera..."

"Chimera ?" Roman and Patton asked.

Janus hugged it more tightly, as they kept looking smaller...and younger.

"I do believe that doll is a collection of pieces of fabric from every Sides?" Logan theorized.

"Ding ding!" Remus said. "Even though some pieces aren't the original anymore. I had to find substitute to fix the missing pieces."

Virgil froze at that.

Missing pieces? Janus was too careful to damage Chimera, and there was no way Remus would rough play with it. Meaning...

"a lot happened since you left."

They were all shocked to see Janus, looking like around 10-12 yo. Minus Remus.

"Jay Jay, you did it again. I think you should stop wearing the hoodie..."

"no!" Janus pouted.

"what happened to the others?..." Virge dared to ask.

The snake Side held up the doll.

With a swift move, it had vanished to thin air.

"Just like that. The ones after the others." Janus said monotonously.

they slowly stood up.

"I suppose you want your hoodie back?" They asked, while shifting back to normal.

Virgil didn't answer.

"hum... Janus ?" Patton asked slowly. "What's up with the ... age thing?"

They really didn't want to tell him but it was better to rip off the band-aid anyway.

"happens when I reminisce about the good times." Janus hissed. "I guess I really haven't moved on..."

They sank down.

"So much for a sun nap." Remus shook his head.

"keep me informed of their situation." Logan ordered.

"Will do, nerdy wolverine." Remus rolled his eyes and sank down.

"what the hell was all of this..." Roman groaned

"oh, I forgot!" Remus popped back, making the others jump out of their skins (a little jolt from Logan)

"what is it this time?" Roman sighed sharply.

"you'll thank me later ~" Remus threw a picture at Patton like a shuriken.

Said fatherly Side yelped and struggled to catch it.

Remus was gone before Roman could even deal with him.

They looked at the picture.

It's was child Janus sleeping peacefully, curled up inside the hoodie while hugging the rag doll.

Patton couldn't stop squealing and awwwing

Roman was raging because he couldn't find a nickname for someone supposed evil, looking this adorable.

Virgil...

Virgil was absolutely distraught.

He thought leaving the "Dark Sides" would be for the best.

He had just swept the eggshells under his bed.

He hated that feeling.

Just because of his old hoodie and that stupid rag doll.

-

♥️ 🔄 💬

#sanders sides #roman sanders #creativity sanders #deceit sanders #anxiety sanders #morality sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #logic sanders #logan sanders #janus sanders #darks sides #tw self hurting #tw self harm #tw self blame #remus sanders #tw self image #tw self loathing #de aging #sympathetic deceit #hurt/comfort #fanfic #wrinting #sanders sides fanfiction

[monster-madame]

Male Alien x NB Human Reader (! Jax//Caleb) Part 1 (SFW, next parts will be NSFW so don’t get too attached to fluff)

Hello hello!

I’ve been noodling about how other alien cultures treat gender, which then sort of transformed into a story about a non-binary reader having romantic feelings for an alien whose race is a liiiiiittle obsessed with their culture’s binary genders.

And WHAT would it look like if we veered away from a plot focused around gender dysphoria, and we just dived right in? Where the protagonist/main character was comfortable in their body and just did their thing?

Note: Reader is a human AMAB (Assigned Male at Birth).

18+ only, ty! <3

Warnings:  Part 1 is fluffy.

You pulled out the systems panel, having to wrench it a little bit at the end to get it off.  “Gotchya!” you muttered triumphantly as it revealed the organized wires and tech underneath.

You were a systems engineer on the Europa Space Station.  Normally, you spent a good amount of time pouring over blueprints, but for the last week you had been covering for one of your electrical engineers who had broken her hand while boxing.

The “bone knitter” in the med bay was down for repairs, so the engineer was down for the count for another week or so.

The lights in this hallway had been futzing out and flickering, making the human in the hall feel a little freaked out.  You were in the residential sector which crews rented for shore leave, and bemused alien crews had watched their human colleagues lose their shit over the “creepy as fuck hallway.”

You chuckled to yourself as you went scrounging through your borrowed toolkit to find a probe to measure the current.  The hallway was pretty creepy, so you had stayed after hours to get it fixed.  You wouldn’t to walk through a hallway like this to get to your bed at the end of the day, so it didn’t seem fair to expect others to do so. You started fiddling with the wires and tubes, trying to figure out where the power was sputtering out.

You were about a third of the way through diagnostics, when you felt the floor vibrate.  Probably a rowdy crew coming home after blowing credits at the bars and clubs at the station.  You paid it no mind, your attention caught trying to interpret the diagnostics on an older type of tube you weren’t familiar with.

The rowdy crew got louder.  Dang, they were really having a party.  The station was definitely never dull, which was why you’d ranked it #1 on your application.

Turning your attention back to the tube, you realized you were stumped.  Rolling your eyes, you muttered, “I probably should look the specs on this damn tube up  –” and then you were cut off by a crash just around the corner.

“Goddess’s four tits, Jaxon!” cried a rather inebriated voice in Common, probably a Grayleck  by the sounds of the accent.  “You hold your liquor fine all night and then totally lose it when we’re on our way home.”  Various voices chime in, interspersed with laughter and a few crass jokes.

You paused in your work, eavesdropping and chuckling to yourself.  

“Come on Captain, let’s get you up,” said a low rumbling voice.  The group swung around the corner, and you pretended to be engrossed in your work – just in case this Jax being was of a species that would be embarrassed by a rando seeing them get hauled to bed by their crew.

The group of 5 came into your periphery, and you had a few “Hey there’s” thrown your way as you approached.  Crews knew to be nice to the engineering teams.

You smiled at their antics, and then you pulled out your com to look up the specs on this misbehaving tube.  

“Y’all go ahead,” you heard the Palaxian say to  his comrades.  “I’ll get our fearless leader to bed.”  The other three continued down the hall, weaving a bit as they headed to their own rooms.

“Excuse me,” rumbled the same voice from before, belonging to a more-burly-than-usual Palaxian.  “Can I set my friend here? This is his door.  He’s passed out, so he won’t vomit in the hall or anything.”

“Sure thing!” you said and moved your bag, looking up at them with a smile. Then your brain fritzed, seeing the two forms.

Oh, shit.  This was the crew of the Heliotross, a famous mercenary outfit.

Thankfully, due to a not-so-great childhood, you could control your surprise and facial expressions with the best of them. It would be embarrassing as keff if he realized you were starstruck.

You hurriedly moved all your gear to the side, and the Palaxian put Captain Fucking Jaxon of the Heliotross down besides you.

Being dumped on the floor woke him up, and he blearily rubbed his head.  Jax glanced at you, then did a double take.

His left eyebrow perked up, and his posture changed – moving his shoulders to give you his full attention. 

You stared at each other for a heartbeat. Two heartbeats.

Oh dear.

“Hello there,” he said, slurring his words a tad.  “Aren’t you an intriguing creature?”  He looked you up and down, taking in your form. He paused over a few key features, giving you a lingering once over as he flopped his head to rest against the wall.  “Care to share your name, as well as any relevant specs on your attractions, predilections or preferences?”

You thought to respond, but your brain was fitzing.

Time slowed. All you could do was drink him in.  You realized the holovids didn’t do him justice.  Jax was sexy as hell.  He definitely had some Greek in his ancestry.  Olive skin, curling hair to his shoulders, and a bone structure art students would riot over.  His nose had a hook, and he was wearing his trademark shit eating grin.

Luckily, the Palaxian interrupted you.  “Jax, the best time to flirt with an intriguing human is NOT when you’re too drunk to stand.”

OMG.  Did he just call you intriguing? Was that.a good thing or bad thing? Probably a good thing. Fuck.

“I’m Jerry,” said the Palaxian.  “Don’t mind us, I just gotta remember the keffing door code.”  He pulled out his comm, scrolling through the notes.

“Take all the time you need, my dear friend,” said Jax, smiling broadly at you and flopping his hand in the general direction of Jerry.  “I like it down here just fine.”

"Oh do you?” you boldly asked, finally finding your voice.

Jax smirked at you.  Before he could reply, Jerry punched in the doorcode.

“Got it,” Jerry grunted, and the apartment doors slid open.  He bent down and swung Jax over his broad shoulder.  

Your mouth quirked up.  

Jax dangled for a second, groaning.  Then, he arched his back to make eye contact with you.  “I’ll definitely be seeing you,” he said, just before the apartment doors swished shut.

“Is that so?” you said to the empty hallway.

Once it shut, you started to pack up your gear.  You definitely shouldn’t be playing with electronics in your current state, as your blood was rushing to the lower half of your uniform jumpsuit. A clear safety hazard.

You stood up and grabbed your gear, conveniently carrying it low to avoid any second glances.

You needed to get to your rooms, NOW.

I’m excited to share this series with y’all!  I’ll be sharing part 2 in a few days, or sooner if folks like it...? <3. Series is 4 parts, and I may do a bonus from Jax’s perspectives bc why not.

Be sure to hit that “Reblog” button. <3333

#monster boyfriend #alien boyfriend #exophillia #monster lover #non-binary reader #sci fi writing #space station #alien x human #nb reader

[authorized-trash]

The Passage of Identity and Time

2116 Words

Analogince

Virgil escapes to a better family, one that’s much more accepting.

Warnings: Anxiety disorder, depression, homophobia, transphobia, dysphoria, cussing, panic attacks, heavy crying, misgendering, use of deadname

       Virgil didn’t start out his life as Virgil.

       He started it out as Amber.

          Born in small town USA in the year 1998, a baby named Amber was born. Her parents were ecstatic. The gender of the child did not matter to them, only that they had one. They had been trying for a child for months before the news of Amber arrived.

        The baby was small and wrinkly, as most are. Her father called her a raisin, earning a swat on the arm from the mother.

        Amber grew to a healthy height and weight for a two-year-old. She could talk and walk by now and was quite the rowdy child. Her hair was growing in curly and that odd almost-black brown her mother was known for. Her eyes were a deep brown, with little specks of amber around the iris. Long lashes surrounded the round eyes, making her quite the lovely child.

        (“Oh, she’ll grow up to be quite the lovely child.”)

        Amber continued to grow, and by the time she turned seven, she had shot up to four foot seven, a good head taller than all of her peers. She had cut her hair by now, a cute bob all the teachers loved. Her young idea of fashion was mud stained shorts and tank-tops.

        By the time Amber hit ten, she could tell something was wrong. She didn’t understand why she suddenly couldn’t play football with the boys, and why she couldn’t just go to grandma’s Easter party in pants and a shirt.

        (“That’s not a very feminine look Amber, you are a young lady, and you’re old enough now to act like it.”)

        For now she could ignore the growing feeling of discomfort in her skin. Amber could pretend nothing was wrong. And when the other girls commented on her odd nature, she dubbed herself a tomboy.

        That’s right, a tomboy. The totally normal option, and the only correct one.

        The only socially correct one.

        … But then puberty hit.

        Amber hated how her thirteen-year-old body changed so quickly. She was five foot eight and had been dubbed ‘giraffe’ by the nasty boys in school. Her height didn’t bother her, however. No, it was the hips that thickened, and the chest. She hated it, hated that she hated it. She didn’t think she was bad looking, per say, just… She didn’t look herself. She didn’t see a future in the person she saw in the mirror.

        With the self-loathing came the depression, and with the depression came the anxiety. There was so much of it. By the time she turned fourteen, Amber couldn’t do anything more than stare at her wall for hours, too anxious to move, anxious because she wasn’t getting done, anxious for what this could mean for her. Anxious for the grades, but too anxious to get up and do something about them.

        Around this time is when she started looking at her family at an outside point of few. Picket fence, white, Christian people. Extremely conservative, and right winged. She started finding flaws in their logic, started resenting every word that came out of their mouth.

        Amber was a sheltered child, and only received a device with access to social media at fifteen. There, she found an escape, making friends.

        She discovered the term ‘Transgender’ online.

        Everything clicked in that moment. The more research the more tears. Amber outright sobbed as she read, this was it. This had to be. She tested it out.

        (“He found what he was looking for, and he knew in his heart it was the right choice.”)

        She loved the way the pronouns sounded, beaming, she ran downstairs to her- his parents. His, him, he. God, did that sound so nice.

        Amber ran downstairs to his parents, but stopped. They were talking again. About the people who pretended to be a different gender. It hit Amber like a ton of bricks.

        They were talking about people like him.

        He walked right back into his room and cried.

        The anxiety worsened to nearly unbearable amounts.

        Amber continued to research and found that he wanted to save up for a binder. He began a savings account, saving every penny he got his hands on.

        It took ages, but he finally, finally, convinced his mother to cut his hair.

        (“You look like a guy now Amber.”)

        God did that comment fill him with joy.

        (“You look like a butch.”)

       Don’t say that like it’s a bad thing, lesbians are lit af.

        (“Do you really like it cut that short?”)

        No shit.

        Amber had never felt more confident, but there was one thing missing.

        A proper name.

        He scoured every male baby name he could find. Scrolled through every writer’s website. Hell, he even looked at the girls names to find one.

        It wasn’t until he was studying old literature when he found it.

        Virgil.

        He loved the way it sounded. Virgil. Such a nice name, genuinely extremely aesthetic in his opinion.

        Amber no longer fit, it didn’t feel right. It never felt right. Virgil.

        Virgil.

        Virgil.

        Virgil.

        He was now a junior in highschool, owned a binder, had short hair, wore baggier clothes, and went by Virgil openly at school. By now the hate had long since died down, and he was decently happy. Still ridiculously and ludicrously anxious all the tie, but that was something to look into at a later date.

        Right now, however, he had to get away from his home.

        He loved his parents, but they were just so… hateful towards any kind of minorities. POC, LGBT, and anyone who wasn’t a white Christian were seen as sinful in their eyes. Virgil was tired of being forced to attend a church about a religion he didn’t know if he believed. He was tired of listening to their bullshit.

        So when the time came that he went to college, he moved into a apartment He had gotten scholarships due to grades he had been careful to keep up and didn’t have to rely on his parents money.

        His roommate, an agender person by the name of Logan Thomasson, was one of the nicest people he had ever met. Supportive too. Logan and him hit it off. Logan was a bit hesitant at first, but eventually told Virgil that xe used xe/xyr. Virgil smiled and told them he’d accept xyr no matter what.

        Virgil’s parents didn’t notice his efforts to distance himself at first. Not until the second semester of his second year, when they had heard nothing from him. By now Virgil had long since started testosterone, and his voice had dropped significantly. It was almost time for summer break, and Virgil was making plans to stay at Logan’s for the break again, when he got the call.

        -

        “Amber, honey, are you there?” His mother called into her phone with that sickeningly sweet voice she used when she wanted to sound nice. Virgil gulped audibly, staring across the room at Logan, who was sitting with him to keep his nerves down.

        “Yes mother?”

        “Are you sick dear? What’s wrong?”

        “No mom, I’m not sick.”

        “Then why is your voice so deep, Amber? You know I hate it when you lie.”

        Virgil bit his lower lip and closed his eyes, feeling the tears fall. He couldn’t delay the inevitable. Sure, maybe it was a shitty thing to say to his mother over the phone and not in person, but he wouldn’t be able to stand her face.

        “I’m not.. I’m not Amber, mother.”

        “… What? Sweetheart of course you’re Amber, what has gotten into you?” By now Logan had gotten and moved across the room, and xe was sitting on xyr knees in front of Virgil’s hand, putting a hand on his knee.

        “No mom, I go by- I go by Virgil now. I’ve been taking testosterone treatment for a year and a half now.”

        “Amber.”

        “No- Mom it’s not-“ Virgil choked up, “It’s not Amber, I’m sorry, I’m-“

        “Amber I’m coming to pick you up. That college isn’t good for you. I knew we shouldn’t have sent you to a damn liberal school,” his mother could be heard shuffling around, presumably covering the phone with her hand, “Adam, your daughter believes she’s a boy, a boy Adam.”

        Virgil started sobbing now, sliding off his seat. Logan was quick to scoop him up in xyr arms, holding him tightly. Virgil rested his forehead on xyr shoulder, looking at the phone in his trembling hand.

        “Mama please,” he mumbled wetly, watching the screen fill with tears. The world becoming a blur. His heart pounded in his chest. He couldn’t take this, he was going to have an anxiety attack.

        “No, Amber, your father and I will be there shortly. Goodbye.”

        The phone beeped, and Virgil threw it.

        He cumbled in on himself, crying hysterically. He wanted that to go better, damnit. Maybe a little acceptance. Anything. God, it hurt so bad.

        Logan shifted him around so that xe could pet his hair, mumbling xyr stupid math equations in his ear the way xe did, in that stupidly endearing way that Virgil loved so much.

        His parents, true to their word, arrived that night.

        They didn’t bother to knock. Virgil didn’t even know how they knew where he lived.

        Logan was the one to see them when they arrived, Virgil had locked himself in his room. Logan had suggested it actually, god Virgil loved xem so much.

        “I do not believe you are supposed to be here.”

        “Amber lives here, yes? Where is she, we’re leaving. You would not believe how this place has contorted her mind.”

        “Ma’am, you need to leave. Both you and your husband.”

        “Now who do you think you ar-“

        “I’ve already contacted security. The officer is a good friend of mine, they will see you out,” Logan smiled over the couple’s heads, at the officer who was standing in the door.

        The couple spun around, spotting the officer. By now Virgil had poked his head around the door. He might as well watch his parents leave, this may very well be the last time he says them this close, or not through a picture.

        This was a mistake on his part however, because when his mother flipped around to confront Logan again, she spotted him.

        “Amber! Sweetheart! You have to come with us! I’m not letting my baby go to Hell!”

        Virgil crept out from behind the door, looking levelly at his mother, “No mum, I’m not leaving. Now I believe Logan asked you to leave. This is his-“

        “Our, Virgil, how many times to I have to tell you it’s our apar-“

        “This is Logan’s home as much as mine, and xe wants you to leave.”

        By now the security officer had already gotten Virgil’s dad out the door, and had walked up behind the mother.

        “Ma’am, these two have asked you to leave multi-“

        “Xe? XE?! Amber! These are demons! You are possessed, please baby, come with us- please!”

        “Ma’am! Either you leave or I arrest you, that is a direct order! Out, now!” The officer shouted, furious. They escorted the woman to the door, Virgil’s mother throwing a fit all the while.

        “You’re all evil in the eyes of god! You will repent one day! You will!!”

        And with that the door shut.

        Virgil gave a small, defeated smile, looking at Logan. Logan breathed heavily out of xyr mouth, before walking up to the dark haired young male. Xe gave him a small kiss at the top of his head, ruffling his hair.

        “I’m so, so proud of you.” Xe said softly. Virgil snorted softly.

        “You think they’ll still let me go to Thanksgiving?” He joked.

        Logan laughed.

        -

        A week past and Virgil had done nothing but delete the nonstop flow of messages from his old friends and family. He had no reason to talk to them. Not anymore.

        He and Logan had started dating since then, and both were extremely happy. Hell, they had even been debating the pros and cons of inviting the cute security guard, who was named Roman, into their relationship. The guard had been flirting nonstop with the two of them, and honestly, they were smitten by the non-binary officer.

        A few months later found them all happily watching movies on the couch with Logan’s ball python Dee.

        A year later found them all happily married, with Roman’s brother Remus as best man.

        Months after that found them adopting an adorable baby named Patton. The child was a spring loaded ball of red curls and freckles.

        Virgil didn’t start out life as Virgil.

        But he sure as hell didn’t end it as Amber.

-

A little fic a did as a sort of vent

I wrote all in an hour and a half, and I honestly don’t think I have it in me to go back through and fix it if there’s mistakes.

#logan #patton #virgil #roman #analogince #analogical #agender logan #nonbinary roman #trans male virgil #misgendering #transphobia #homophobia #anxiety #depression #deadname use #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #deceit mention #remus mention

[yourdeepestfathoms]

hi! i’ve just been getting into the LIWs and i kind of want to make my own content for them, but since there’s pretty much no canon and most of the fics about them are angst (that never fail to rip my soul from my body) can i please have a rundown on what you headcanon each of their personalities are like outside of angst? sorry if you’ve already been asked similar questions.

Hi there! Sure, I can give a quick rundown! I hope it helps, and I’d love to see what content you come up with!

Bessie

Okay, so Bessie is very reserved and reclusive. She’s tough, sarcastic, and blunt, and WILL point out something you’re doing wrong. She has this outer layer of sorts, which is made up of thorns and quills that she’ll stick people with if they get too close, so she tends to come off as rude and standoffish. Growling, snapping, and scratching are not above her when she’s intimidated.

However, she’s actually really soft and caring, you just need to give her time. She’s extremely protective of those she cares about and absolutely will fight someone messing with them. She’s also a complete and utter dork if you can get her out of her shell, but is embarrassed very easily and has a strong sense of shame.

Additionally, Bessie has a layer of guilt and deep sadness to her. There’s very obviously depression there and it makes her do very stupid things, but she’s secretive, so she doesn’t tell anyone about what she’s doing.

She’s guilty about what she did with Henry and how that affected Aragon, and has learned to believe that she was never the victim and wanted the treatment the entire time. The abuse she faced also causes her to have a strong repulsion towards sexual subjects, even stretching as far as her hating seeing herself naked and going on shower strikes for weeks at a time (she just washes her hair in the sink and then Febreezes herself down), and become very sensitive about the way she looks and any comments made about her body. This only fuels her self destructive tendencies to destroy herself.

Her personality and the way she acts around other people varies on who she’s interacting with. She considers Cleves her best friend and can tell her almost everyone (just not her little habits, although she does sometimes slip up and almost tell her). She and Jane are also pretty close- she enjoys shopping with her because it’s peaceful. Maria is also someone she’s close to, as Maria practically raised her up until she had to leave court. However, in this life she’s older than Maria and mothers her for a change. Then there’s Cathy, who she considers her “sisterly significant annoyance” because the queen seems fascinated in her. Kitty is a pretty difficult case. When Bessie looks at her, she seems a real victim, a helpless child who got punished for something she didn’t want- an opportunity to tell the real story. Something she didn’t get. So she tends to keep away from Kitty to avoid feeling guilty or jealous. And then there’s Aragon, who she’s probably the closest to. She has an on and off love-hate relationship with the queen (with her doing most of the hating). At first she would always refuse Aragon’s helps with anything, but slowly warms up to her and sees her as a mother figure once again, although she doesn’t ever tell her that out of embarrassment.

Also she hates her son, FitzRoy, because there’s bad memories attached to him.

Also also she hates the sound of babies crying. Because suchba hatred should be considered a personality trait.

Also also also- All You Wanna Do makes her EXTREMELY uncomfortable

Maria

To put it simply, she is the fun sister everyone wants. You know the one- the sister that gives toddlers a bottle of alcohol and laughs about it up until the toddler starts to drink it and she then screams, “NO STOP—” That kind of sister.

Maria is chaotic, but not in a gremlins sort of way. More like “plays the PornHub intro whenever someone walks through a door” sort of way. She’s very fun and sweet and loving, especially towards Maggie and Joan, who she considers as her young sister figures. She doesn’t have much of a sense of shame and will laugh about pretty much everything. She also will do something stupid to show off, like eating a bunch of pepers despite having an acid reflux (another hc i have). Additionally, she’s very nurturing and really good at comforting someone when there’s sad because she is really warm and soft. She particularly has a soft spot for Bessie.

But despite all of this, there is lingering guilt. She’s very guilty over what happened with Bessie and believed she could have stopped it or saved her from Henry’s treatment if she had just done something or tried a little bit harder. She never really forgave the king and queen for “taking Bessie away from her.”

Relationship wise, she’s closest to Aragon and Bessie. She tends to stay away from Anne, who she blames for Aragon’s divorce and death because of the divorce. Aside from that, she’s on good terms with everyone else and considers them friends.

Maggie

Maggie is a little tricky because I’ve been switching her personality around. But I’d describe her as “looks like a cinnamon roll but could kill you.”

For one, she’s very fidegety. Like, she always seems to be moving, and if she isn’t moving then she’s wringing her hands in her shirt or bouncing her leg or flexing her fingers. Second, she’s nice and sweet, but empathy is a little difficult for her, so she’s not the best at comforting people that aren’t Anne. She finds it hard to put herself in their shoes because she doesn’t want to imagine whatever they went through, so verbal comfort is not her strong point (unless, again, you’re Anne). She’s also somewhat of a kleptomaniac and will take something she likes without even realizing the other person wouldn’t like getting their things stolen.

And then there’s her trauma. Maggie has a lot of trauma regarding Anne’s death and witnessing it so close, to the point where she sometimes sees the decapitation when she closes her eyes. This causes her to be very clingy towards the queen and will hold onto her to make sure she’s real and safe. Anne will sometimes let her touch her neck just to prove it to her further.

Obviously Anne is Maggie’s best friend- these two are practically joined at the hip. However, she’s slightly jealous of Kitty when Kitty starts to get close to Anne because she believes her friend is gonna be taken away from her.

Also she doesn’t like Don’t Lose Ur Head because it brings back bad memories

Joan

Wooo boy this girl is a roller coaster from start to finish-

If I could only use three phrases to describe Joan they would be: Anxious, jealous, and people-pleaser

Let me explain

First of all, saying she’s anxious is an understatement. When something bad happens, Joan’s mind immediately goes to the worst case scenarios and she starts to prepare for her life to be ruined. Like, her messing up during a show? She expects the director to fire her after she gets offstage, which then leads to the other ladies in waiting kicking her out because she doesn’t have a job and can’t pay her share of the bills, and then she starves to death on the streets with her only form of income being her selling her blood for money to some guy in a box. It’s that bad.

She works religiously, to the point where she skips meals and sleep entirely just to make sure she’s up to date with everything. She makes her job ten times harder on herself, but she’s so in the loop with this process that she doesn’t know how to just make a normal schedule instead of tackling everything at once. This does not help that fact that she’s an insomniac and has a severe caffeine addiction.

Then there’s her being a people-pleaser. Despite her seeming to work all the time, she’s also very desperate for attention and affection from others. However, her attempt to make friends usually blow up in her face because she either comes off way too strong or is completely awkward and stutters the entire time. This, of course, worsens her RSD (rejection sensitive dysphoria- another hc I have) and makes her believe she’ll never be enough and that nobody likes her. So she tries harder and does anything she can to make the others like her.

She’s very sensitive to rejection (hence the RSD) and does not take it very well. It can completely shut her down and make her give up on everything completely. She can’t fathom the fact that some people just won’t like her.

She also feels very insignificant compared to the others. Unlike them, she had nothing interesting happen in her life. She was just a maid and lady in waiting. Not a queen, not a secret mistress, not a best friend to the queen. Just a worker. So she starts to believe she doesn’t matter to them at all and they’re all just better than her.

There’s also some problems with her memories (which I hc due to the fact that there’s little to no information on her) and can’t remember much aside from her time as a lady.

And then there’s the jealousy.

Joan is EXTREMELY jealous of Kitty and how she’s a daughter figure to Jane. She doesn’t understand why Jane likes this girl she never knew in her past life more than she likes her. And it makes her very angry and upset, to the point where she sometimes snaps at people or says something she doesn’t really mean. She lets her envy get the best of her.

Relationship wise, hers are a bit shaky. Joan has a hard time making friends and tends to be rather lonely most of the time. However, she likes to think she’s close to Jane, even if Jane doesn’t pay much attention to her. She also looks up to Aragon and how confident she is. Sometimes she’ll follow Anne around, too, as she had been a maid in waiting to her.

And I think that wraps most of it up! I may have missed a few things, but that’s good for now. If you have anymore questions on these girls, feel free to ask!

#ask #ladies in waiting #six the musical #bessie on the bass #maria on the drums #maggie on the guitar #joan on the keys

[drybranmuffin]

i literally got more than one like so here i am, shouting about my therapist being shitty.

so my therapist literally doesn’t know how to handle how my depression tangles in with my gender dysphoria, which entangles with my eating disorder, which THEN in turn aggravates my OCD. She holds my OCD in a separate area than my depression (and “reason for hospitalization”), then doesn’t really acknowledge my eating disorder at all? And then when i told her that feeling like i will never transition was the last straw that made me feel like being alive wasn’t worth anything, she was like “you just need to use your dad’s insurance and transition anyway”. like i haven’t been fighting my mother for almost ten years. like i haven’t been trying to k*** m***** for almost a fucking decade because my body has just been on this layaway plan until i can “prove” that i’m “adult enough” to “handle transphobia” (my parents reasoning, besides that i’m just “not trans”). my therapist, who was assigned by my hospital-- where i went by mitchell and had to lie that i loved my parents and wanted to see them in order to get the fuck out of there because i knew my parents were angry with me and wouldn’t come visit at all-- is giving me insufficient care. i feel like i am a burden talking to the medically mandated person who is supposed to not make me feel like that.

we’re already on every two week calls, rather than every week, even though i’m the most su*c*d*l i’ve been since september when i was hospitalized. my new medication has made me functioning again, but has not fixed the problem. and it seems like when i try to explain that to my therapist, she just immediate says that i’m being a martyr and that i’m creating these situations of co-dependence for myself. while, some of that could be seen as true-- it’s also just the reality. i need my father’s insurance in order to pay for my testosterone. that’s just a fact. i need his approval, so i can have a roof over my fucking head, dawn.

i’m not in the same place as september, which is nice, but it just feels cheap. it feels like i went through the motions to make everyone else happy, but no myself. i don’t feel any better about my life or my future than i did three months ago, and i know where that fucking leads and it’s upsetting to see that everyone just gets to clap themselves on the back that they Saved Another Crazy Young Adult, but don’t actually want to see who that young adult is-- a Trans Fucking Man.

i want to talk to my dad about taking T but not like, needing anyone to call me by my “preferred” name and just letting my body be different for ME, but because it’s the holidays i feel like i have to wait and just. that wait feels like it will never happen. i’ll never get the green light and then i’ll have to wait until i have some of my own coverage-- and hope the company doesn’t block that use of their health insurance/fire me-- and i’ll be what? thirty by then? which is not terrible and i know people have to wait a lot longer but, i just don’t think i can do another eight years like this.

i don’t want my second degree to have my other name on it. i don’t want to date a man who ever knows my birth name. and the more that possibility creeps in, the more i feel less like i’m 22 and more like i never left high school and that wow it just never gets better and i really should have d*ed in my room and not had to face this impatience. it’s such a combination of shame for being so bratty about it, frustration that i should just have been born normal/make myself like everyone else, and suffocation that my reflection is starting to cause dissociation and having to look at Her in the mirror is starting to become obsessive because it’s not really Me, it’s something my OCD can control-- and the cycle continues.

and my therapist thinks i can just “get to transitioning” as if it’s like taking piano lessons or learning to ride a bike. i don’t like being insulted. this situation almost killed me. i’m not pouting, i feel unsupported and trapped and isolated in a red, waspy shore town.

get fucked, dawn. get honest to god, hands and knees, cracked-spine fucked.

that being said, i’m a giant push over, which you know, and will be super nice to your face when we talk next week! talk soon x

#personal #tw suicide #cw mental health #ohhh i spoke

[randomfandomfiction]

An Introduction to Ereri

All your required reading in one place!

king of carrot flowers by unhappy_turtle (23k, Mature)

It's a Sunday. He's washing his favorite mug and trying not to pay too much attention to the funeral that's going on across the street.

---

(Levi lives across the street from a cemetery and Eren's father has recently passed away.)

Corp de Ballet by Dominura (26k, T+)

The Royal Stohess Ballet school is almost as esteemed and as world renowned as the Royal Stohess Ballet Company itself. It brings students in from far and wide with the hope that they too could join the ranks of the most elite dancers in the world.  Mikasa and Eren can hardly believe they’ve made it this far, the chance to be able to dance in the company of their dreams fills them with hope. Along the way they meet new people, make new friends, and enemies. However, they learn that you can never judge a book by its cover.

In my opinion this is one of the more underrated Ereri fics - I think it deserves a lot more love because I really really enjoyed it

Fireside by twisting_vine_x (37k, Explicit)

A/N: Essentially, the one in which Levi ditches his car and ends up half-frozen on Eren’s doorstep, and then falls harder for Eren in four days than he’s ever fallen for anyone in his life.

Basically, this story shall contain roaring fires, hot chocolate, a whole roster of adorable animals (cause Eren’s spending his reading week watching over Hanji’s farm in frozen Alberta, whereas Levi is an author who lives in Vancouver), a bunch of cuteness with Eren and Levi bonding over nerdy shit; and, essentially, Levi and Eren being trapped together for days, with both of them realizing just how compatible they are, and with both of them aware of the fact that they're from different worlds and live entire provinces apart.

- - -

 Levi’s known this kid for maybe four hours. There’s no reason for him to feel this protective.

 The wind’s still howling outside, though, and Levi still can’t feel his toes.

 Eren may well have saved his life, by opening his door.

 Maybe Levi’s allowed to feel a bit protective in return.

Art Of War by catsonfire (52k, Explicit)

Noisy neighbors, nursling dinosaurs, satanic box cutters, shitty convenience store management, the word 'fuck', hereditary (but not really) homosexuality, beer and ramen, pennies, truckstops, strippers, closets, semi-public defacing, rings, house parties, "recreational" drug use, accidental rendezvous, toxic stew (don't eat the stew), nice abs, housewives--batteries not included, over-educational movie sessions, copious domesticity, kittens named after landlords, a shit joke at participating locations, and many, many happy endings. A modern AU in which Eren moves into the apartment directly above Levi's.

Hands Clean by Ashke (55k, Mature)

Eren's your typical high school student, despite his anger management problems. One day, he has to visit the nurse's office to only discover that the usual nurse has been replaced by a man with steel gray eyes and a mouth with no filter. Eren's interest is piqued.

A classic and must-read! Very well-known amongst fanfic readers

The Little Titan Café by pocketsizedtitan (65k, T+)

Just another cliche AU in which Eren works as a barista in his mother’s café, specializing in latte art. And then there’s Levi, who’s not exactly your typical patron, because, well, he’s blunt and rude (which Eren supposes isn’t that much different from regular customers) but mostly he just confuses Eren’s poor little homosexual heart.

I have always loved this fic! It’s one I regularly reread, just because I love the slow burn and development of the relationship between these two. This one is also pretty much a fandom staple and very well-loved

half light by foreverautumn (66k, Not Rated)

He wouldn't say that they're friends, really. They're not quite just acquaintances either; the more he thinks about it, Eren's not sure how to describe their relationship. They sort of... tolerate each other, in different ways.

But yeah, the more he thinks about it (and he does think about it quite often), Eren thinks that he'd like for them to be friends.

(AU where Eren tries to figure out what you do when friendly feelings turn into something more.)

Love.exe by anonymous (69k, Not Rated)

All Levi wants to do is drink tea, run his goddamn convenience store, and not have to deal with this kid who keeps coming in to leech his wifi bringing down high-end corporations.

Please note you need an ao3 account to read this ^

Holding Hands In The Rain by twisting_vine_x (106k, Explicit)

A/N: Basically the one with thousands of words of Eren and Levi crushing like crazy on each other, and being absolutely freaking ridiculous together, and slowly falling in love against the backdrop of modern-day Vancouver.

- - -

Levi only realizes how much he’s not paying attention to anything around him when there are shoes beside the puddle he’s drawing. Looks up to find Eren standing right there in the rain, the hood on his jacket pulled back, and his hair plastered down against his head. He’s just standing there, and – he’s watching Levi with an expression that looks so fond it actually hurts; and Levi’s just managed to get his breath back and open his mouth when Eren moves closer, and Levi loses his air all over again.

Chasing Summer by Dressed_in_Darkness (115k, Explicit)

Two more weeks left before Levi Ackerman graduates from high school and leaves the small town of Shiganshina. He can't wait for the moment that he can finally put that dreadful town behind him. But when a Grisha Jaeger becomes the new family doctor, bringing along his ill son that breathes new life into the town he desperately wants to escape, will Levi find a reason to stay?

I normally reeeeally dislike first-person written fics (I just find them super difficult to get into and generally won’t read them) but this is an exception! Honestly I can’t even explain how big a deal that is for me

An Unlikely Alliance by Monsoon (117k, Explicit)

When Scouting Legions main trading partner, Wall Maria, is experiencing economic strain from constant attacks by the neighboring kingdom Titan, the leaders of the two nations come to an agreement: Scouting Legion will provide military protection in exchange for land and financial aid for the still growing nation.

Their new alliance will be sealed with the union of King Jaegar's son Eren to the Scouting legions strongest soldier, Lance Corporal Levi. But how will the cold, impassive soldier warm to his new husband, who is far from the weak, spoiled princess he was expecting?

1994 by Vee (124k, Explicit)

Before cell phones. Before the Kardashians. Before internet porn. The year is 1994. Eren, Mikasa, and Armin, poor kids from the wrong side of the tracks, have been transferred with the rest of their neighborhood to the posh, uptown Trost High (Home of the Titans). Mikasa and Armin seem to fit in well enough, but Eren isn't quite so lucky. Of course, most of this has to do with Eren's personality. When he accepts a bet to lose his virginity (and actually prove that someone likes him) by the end of the semester, it's hard for him to deny the improbability of winning. After all, the only one he seems to be talking to these days is the weirdly pretty (and just plain weird) goth working at the donut shop down the street...

An absolute classic and must-read! Much loved and well-known, this is definitely a fandom staple

The Strange and the Usual by lalazee (126k, Explicit)

When Eren finds himself stuck in what is essentially a halfway house for supernaturally inclined misfits, there's no stopping the veritable shopping list of events that leave him pushed closer and closer to ex-exorcist, Levi. But when is it ever that simple?

I. LOVE. THIS. I have recced ^ before and I will continue to do so for a very long time!! This is my absolute favourite Ereri fic. It has been years since I read this for the first time and I have never forgotten it. Please read and support the author!!

Click on my Heart by CocoaChoux (140k, T+)

Levi is a well-known, full-time let’s player on YouTube who just so happens to take care of his deceased relative’s child. Content with his punk/gamer life, he did not expect to one day click on a video of fellow YouTuber, QueenPastelEren. He especially did not expect to be so smitten within the first few seconds of watching the pastel goddess with green and gold eyes.

This was one of my first Ereri fics and I’ve never forgotten it. Eren is lovely, Levi is adorable, they are so cute together, and the way the author expresses body dysphoria here is really excellent to read and understand.

Haute Couture Love by SailorHeichou (163k, Mature)

Eren Jaeger is sharp, determined and hard working but doesn't consider himself beautiful or good looking in the least. When he lands his dream job, working at Survey Corp Publications as the Executive Assistant to a high-end Fashion magazine's Editor-in-Chief, his life is turned Topsy-Turvy. All he wants to do is work hard to become an Editor, but his boss Levi seems keen on making his life a living hell.

Levi is a notorious playboy who gets what he wants both in and out of the bedroom. As Editer-in-Chief of New York's best selling high-end Fashion Magazine, Levi is forced to work with an overly determined, hot-headed brat with a rat's nest for hair and the most incredible eyes he's ever seen and it's all because of Erwin Smith.

Another fic that makes me put aside my dislike of first-person narration!! I love sassy Levi!!

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #ereri #riren #eren jaeger #levi ackerman #fic #fanfic #fic rec #ereri masterlist #classics #ereri classics #long fic #recommended #masterlists

[plantanarchy]

the audubon society plants list finally loaded kids let’s do a brief (haha) cold medicine induced analysis of what the heck they’re recommending for my local area (western PA) and whether it could grow in my shitty yard (if i’m unfamiliar with it i’m skipping it just to be fair)

It’s alphabetical by common name I guess so ok i’m doing this under a cut I supppose

Allegheny Monkey Flower (Mimulus ringens) - this plant is indeed one you see kinda often...... on the very edge of the Allegheny river literally growing as a marginal plant. not ideal unless you got a pond or live in a swamp

Allegheny Serviceberry (Amelanchier laevis) - this is one you see growing in the woods near swamps so nope, not in this drought hellscape of a yard

Alternate-Leaf Dogwood  (Cornus alternifolia) - another understory moisture loving tree/shrub... next

American Beech (Fagus grandifolia) - again, moisture loving woodland tree. European Beeches are overall more drought tolerant so if you see a beech in the city or suburbs, it’s probably not an American Beech. also, in my area, you can’t find an American Beech that isn’t suffering from Beech bark disease unfortunately

American Black Elderberry  (Sambucus nigra ssp. canadensis) - These are good plants and grow all along the shady woodsides here. Same issue though, they like moisture and at least partial shade. And the ornamental varieties you can find at garden centers tend to be European hybrids with fancy leaves

American Pokeweed (Phytolacca americana) - shadey woodland lad again. They’re also very very weedy idk that anyone would want this in their garden.

American Witch-Hazel  (Hamamelis virginiana) - a good plant. still needs moist soil but I think would probably be ok. It looks really cool planted near grasses because it blooms in fallish

Big Bluestem  (Andropogon gerardi) - finally a prairie plant!! it’s my boy big bluestem. unfortunately, it can look kinda wild and weedy for a suburban garden unless you do it right.

Black Chokeberry (Aronia melanocarpa) - handsome, good, nice berries, good fall foliage, excellent choice, prefers full sun but still likes it a bit moist and will drop all its bottom leaves and turn fall colors early if you underwater it oops i definitely  never was responsible for that at work with b&b aronias.

Black Raspberry (Rubus occidentalis) - oh word we got these in our garden and the birds actually like the red ones better rip

Black-Eyed-Susan (Rudbeckia hirta) - that’s right babey it’s Susan. this baby will reseed all day in sun or shade and birds love that shit. downfall is the species plant is prone to rust and cultivars do a bit better.

Butterfly Milkweed  (Asclepias tuberosa) - Good and Wholesome friend. I don’t recommend this as baby’s first milkweed though because they can be slow to establish and kinda disappointing and small and if you get caterpillars on it the first year, it may not survive.

Cardinal-Flower (Lobelia cardinalis) - my mom actually has managed to keep a Lobelia alive in the shadiest, wettest part of her garden but listen...... this is a marginal or swamp plant. Put it in the swamp.

Common Buttonbush  (Cephalanthus occidentalis) - it’s the bae

Common Milkweed (Asclepias syriaca) - do not try to buy this as an established plant at a garden center, they will look at you funny and point at the roadsides. Either wait until fall seedpod time and go harvest some or buy some seeds online

Common Snowberry (Symphoricarpos albus) - I had no idea this was native actually but it’s cool because it gets big white ORBS

Common Winterberry (Ilex verticillata) - it’s got stems. it’s got berries. it can grow wherever. what more could you want??? english holly who?????

Common Yarrow (Achillea millefolium) - actually often confusingly hybridized with European Yarrows so no one knows whether they’re ~true~ natives or not. Who cares they will survive anything except a swamp. They will live in a drought ass no topsoil suburban neighborhood like a CHAMP. they were made for this.

Dense Gayfeather (Liatris spicata) - just including this one because it sounds like a Good Omens joke

Flowering Dogwood (Cornus florida) - put that baby tree back in the moist woodlands where it came from or so help me

Gray-Head Mexican-Hat  (Ratibida pinnata) - ayyy prairie plant, though this isn’t the species you commonly see for sale at garden centers and this one is decidedly less phallic than R. columnifera so that’s a bummer.

Great Blue Lobelia (Lobelia siphilitica) - we half killed this at work because it doesn’t love pot culture or me but someone still bought it all. don’t put this in your dry ass suburban neighborhood or she will hate you too

Northern Bayberry (Morella pensylvanica) - i call this myrica pensylvanica but whatever. birds love it. so do japanese beetles unfortunately

Pennsylvania Sedge (Carex pensylvanica) - it’s a sedge

Red Columbine (Aquilegia canadensis) - unlike other columbine, this bitch likes full sun and probably will grow and reseed anywhere

Redbud (Cercis canadensis) - another understory-ish moisture loving tree but a lot of the cultivars do just fine in the middle of sad suburban yards. also good. blooms wherever it wants while nakey.

Scarlet Beebalm (Monarda didyma) - you will only ever find cultivars of this but who knows, they may slightly more mildew resistant for at least a little while

Shag-Bark Hickory (Carya ovata) - big, handsome, looks like it’s seconds away from falling apart at all times. just how i like my men.

Smooth Oxeye (Heliopsis helianthoides) - please let the one in my mom’s yard know that it’s meant to survive dry soils in full sun

Spotted Beebalm (Monarda punctata) - my favorite bee balm but doesn’t have the Wow factor of M. didyma cultivars. It likes the sun and dry though

Spotted Touch-Me-Not (Impatiens capensis) - wholesome friend! But no one in their right mind would plant this on purpose in their garden also it would be wilt-city out here in the drought ass topsoil-less surburbs. these babies used to grow between the greenhouses and I used to water them like some kinda of bleeding heart

Swamp Milkweed (Asclepias incarnata) - she can actually live pretty well in the middle of drought ass suburban yard and spreads easily by seed but expect half the lower leaves to yellow and drop off by midsummer. poor darling. put her back in the swamp. This is the most reliable commerically available milkweed you will find because it takes to pot culture way better than other milkweeds (rip all the butterfly weed horticulture land kills yearly)

Sweet-Bay (Magnolia virginiana) - more like sweet bae am I right???? actually she wouldn’t live in my yard. needs some afternoon shade and moist, rich soil.

Sweet-Scented Joe-Pye-Weed (Eutrochium purpureum) - It’s Joe!!!!! Will grow all over. Will get 7 feet tall with massive flowers just because he can. Will grow in a swamp, will grow on a hillside, will grow beside Wal-Mart. Joe don’t care. I still call it Eupatorium because I resist change and actually I’m not 100% sure if this or E. fistulosum that is most common around here.

Tall Tickseed (Coreopsis tripteris) - coreopsis is a really popular genus to see on native plant lists but there aren’t many native to my area of Pennsylvania and you won’t find anything but C. verticillata or C. lanceolata cultivars in garden centers. BUt  apparently this bitch can get NINE FEET TALL i’m swooning

Trumpet-Creeper (Campsis radicans) - ok, i’d avoid planting this baby unless you know exactly what you’re doing. she may be native but she can and will do her best to eat your home and foundation and your garden in general. she will do her rhizomey best to runner away from you into the wilderness. fun to grow across a pergola though but she will EAT your TREES and your HOME

Virginia-Creeper  (Parthenocissus quinquefolia) - ????? no one is going to deliberately plant this, Audubon Society

Wand Panic Grass (Panicum virgatum) - this is why I think making these lists with common name first is so hilarious because what????? I know this as “Switchgrass” which sounds nice and normal wtf is a Wand Panic Grass. that’s what i’m going to call bad bottom dysphoria episodes from now on

White Turtlehead (Chelone glabra) - likes it wet and shaded so wouldn’t do nice in my yard. also why even BOTHER planting this plant unless you’re going to do the cultivar ‘Hot Lips’ (jk probably the white one is more native insects friendly)

Wild Hydrangea (Hydrangea arborescens) - she’s cute and all but if you want a Hydrangea just go full cliche H. paniculata cultivar or nothing. This plant would hate my whole entire yard and then die

anyway, that’s all the plants on the list I felt like rambling about on this fine Tuesday morning. Overall, idk how helpful a list like this would be for first time gardeners, because they would run into the issue of not being able to actually their hands on most of these plants.

Very few on the list would actually be suitable for growing in a new suburban neighborhood or an urban garden. This is an area naturally full of sensitive, woodland, rich, moist soil-loving plants... and unfortunately, those areas are disappearing more and more under new developments and the native pollinators and wildlife are going along with them.

#i really just did that and rambled about a whole lot of plants for no good reason #long post #idk what to tag this as

[hetalia-text-messages]

Final installment of FtM Romano woosh

Second part

"That's how I found out about your brother's fear of really tiny fish."

Romano giggled, resisting the urge to cover his mouth. He hated how girly and cute it sounded, but he was slowly working on viewing it in a different light. "Even I didn't know that."

Germany smirked. "Never put anything of his in a fishbowl. You will regret it."

"Veneziano mad is like, you can see the gears turning in his head. Fucking crazy." He giggled again, even more high-pitched. "Sorry," he said after a moment.

"I don't mind." He raised an eyebrow at his sad, no, regretful expression. "What?"

"I'm sorry for being a dick to you for all those years, I should've given you a chance." Romano scratched his cheek, a nervous tick of his. "You're actually not that bad. I guess I understand if you don't forgive me."

"There is nothing to forgive, Romano. It was a long time ago when that happened." Germany pulled his hand away before he could leave a noticeable mark on his face. "You're not that bad yourself."

"Well..." He looked away with a grin. "You're still a potato salad bastard."

"Probably." He regarded the slight blush on his sun-kissed cheeks fondly, savoring that he had caused it. He caused it! "I'm over here."

"I'm aware!" Romano poked him in the chest. "You think everything is about you all the time, macho macho man? Please."

"What did you call me?" Germany chuckled, deep and rough. "Is that the best you could come up with?"

"No!" He blushed even harder, feeling like an idiot. "I changed my mind, I hate you. Goodbye." He got up and stormed out.

"Tschüss." He counted down from three on his fingers.

"I forgot something." Romano sat next to him again. "I'll just stay here."

"Whatever you want." Germany flinched back as he was kissed on both cheeks. He really needed to get used to these damn Catholics. "Hello to you too."

"Hi." He punched the air happily. "Who's blushing now, idiota?"

"I suddenly wish you decided to leave and never come back." He pushed him over with an exasperated look. "Does our relationship ever seem odd to you?"

"Not really. I wouldn't have expected you to act like this around anyone, but I'm not complaining." Romano bounced back up. "Don't you act like this around Veneziano?"

Germany inhaled sharply. "I don't think so. He's playful, but I don't really reciprocate it with him. I'm not sure what's different about you and I." Yes he did, he knew very well what the difference between those two were. They weren't the same person.

"I'm the only one to see this side of you? I'm soooooo honored." He draped a hand over his forehead and fell backwards. "Swoon."

He laughed, shaking his head fondly. "Don't die on me."

"Yes sir, Commander." Romano glanced at the clock and grimaced. "Sorry, I've been wearing this thing for over eight hours. Do you mind if I take it off?"

"Go ahead, I can wait." Germany nodded to the bathroom and sighed. He needed to have a talk with Romano about wearing that binder for too long. He could accidentally hurt himself because of it, then what would he do? Everyone made it sound so terrifying when that happened. Major injuries.

No, Germany had to calm down. Romano needed that to feel...right. Normal. But at the same time, didn't wearing it call more attention to something that shouldn't be there? Make the dysphoria worse? He should have a talk with him about the top surgery sometime. That would be one hell of an awkward conversation.

"I'm back." Romano placed the folded article of clothing on the bed. "Feels so much fucking better."

"I'm sure." Germany came up behind him and touched his shoulder blades without thinking.

"Eek!" He squealed, whirling around to face him. "You scared the shit out of me! What are you doing?"

"I um, I thought maybe you were sore." He coughed awkwardly. "Are you?"

Romano eyed him suspiciously, then turned back around. "Si, I am. It happens a lot." He looked down at his feet. "You can touch them, if you want."

"Alright." Germany reached out hesitantly, then gently pressed into the bones.

"Shit," he hissed. "I'm fine, don't worry about me."

"Right, because you're tough and don't cry at the sight of France." He laughed, then turned serious. "Have you been thinking about what I suggested?" He dug the heel of his hand in.

"Oh, that." Romano let out a soft noise of content. "It's just a lot to think about, you know? Mmm, aren't there side effects from taking it? I don't want to fucking mutate or whatever."

Germany snorted. "I doubt you will mutate. It'll make your voice deep and you'll grow facial hair, right? You're talking about side effects like acne or gaining weight."

"I didn't tell you about the specifics." He turned around and narrowed his eyes. "How did you know?"

"Scheiße." He was busted. "I might've done a little research on everything." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Okay, a lot of research. I just wanted to know more about what you were going though, so I can better understand what-"

"Shut the hell up, asshole." Romano sniffled, wiping his nose. "I hate you so much, you know that? So fucking much."

"What? Why?" Germany touched his shoulder. "I thought I was doing good!"

"I hate you so much for making me fall in love with you." He forced out a chuckle and shook his head. "I've never had anyone treat me as well as you have. You're so caring and weird and shit, even though you look like you're a scary guy on steroids. You never questioned me for my choices when others did, you fucking educated yourself. You did things to make me feel I was right and not broken. That's why I hate you."

This wasn't happening, there's no way. Germany opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. No words came out, so he just stood there looking ridiculous. Romano was in love with him. Romano was in love with him. This extremely gorgeous man who had gone through so much chose him, someone he had hated for so long, of all people. It felt great.

"Italians," Germany muttered once he found his voice. "Always so oblivious." His face was so red and hot it was about to burst into flames. Don't have a meltdown like you did with Italy don't have a meltdown like you did with Italy don't

"Who are you calling oblivious, you bastard?!" Romano grabbed him by the collar. "I hope all your potatoes ROT in the field!"

Fuck it. "Please stop talking." He bent down further and gently cupped his face. "I've never done this before, forgive me if I do something wrong." He tilted his head, bringing their lips together.

Uh...

Damn.

This felt nice.

Germany almost sighed in relief when Romano kissed back, a bit shyly. The contrast of his soft lips against his rough ones made him let out an embarrassing coo. He jumped as the Italian wrapped his arms around his waist to pull him even closer. So warm.

"Mmm, wow." Romano slowly pulled away to look at him. "Holy shit."

"Holy shit," Germany echoed. "Was that alright?"

"Fucking perfect." He leaned into his chest with a sigh. "Ti amo. Thank you for loving this weird boy."

"You're a man." He felt the front of his uniform grow damp from his tears of joy, but he just nuzzled his nose into his hair. Things were going to be okay.

#i can't write kissing scenes okay #haven't had my first kiss so eh #aph #hetalia #aph Germany #aph FtM!Romano #aph South Italy #aph Romano #Germano #LGBT+ #transgender #trans #FtM

[friendlyneighborhoodborg]

Marc Appreciation Week 2019| Day 3: Favorite Ship| “Couples Villainy”

Sorry I was later than usual today.  School dragged today.  But I swear, I’m gonna finish this all by Saturday’s deadline.  Even if I have to post days 4-6 on day 7, I will finish on time.

Alright, time for some more loosely-interpreted prompts.  This one, “Favorite Ship.”  Well, I hope it’s obvious by now who I ship Marc with, so today I’ve made the prompt about shipping in general.  This is a thinly-veiled excuse for not really doing the actual requested prompt.

Disclaimers were in Day 1.  And btw, here’s about where that warning about dysphoria comes in, and where I need y’all to tell me if I’m handling it right.

(~2000 words (Holy Crap) in case you care)

Chapters:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7

           The third day of their collaboration was technically the first, being the first day either of them got any work done on the comic.  They had spent the school day texting each other ideas for the story, so that when it came time to meet up in the art room after school, they had completely conflicting concepts of what they wanted to do.

           Especially the villains to use.

           “I still think bringing in Frightingale and Guitar Villain together would be awesome.”

           “Thematically, sure,” Marc argued.  “But think of the power-sets.  They don’t really go together- Frightingale freezes, Guitar Villain makes them dance.”  He scribbled something else down in his notes.  “Consider powers that could play into each other or compliment each other.”

           They sat in the back corner of the room, hunched over one table with their voices low.  Marc had noticed Nathaniel’s classmates come in later, and his friend had introduced them as they did.  Rose and Juleka were on the side of the room, Rose with a little notebook of poetry and Juleka with her bass guitar.  Alix was spray-painting a wall (hopefully with the school’s permission), and the art teacher whose name escaped him watched her warily (suggesting it wasn’t).  More spray cans were stacked near where Juleka was sitting.  Marinette, the only face Marc knew in this club, was absent from the meeting.

           “Such as?” prompted Nath.

           “Well, I can’t actually think of any yet.”  He pursed his lips.  “Dark Cupid and Glaciator?”

           “One breaks up love, one freezes the resultant single people.”  Nathan shook his head.  “You see, that almost sounds kinda gimmicky.”

           “You got a better idea?”

           “We don’t need to pair them up.”  He tore off another sheet from his sketchpad. “Why don’t we let Puppeteer loose in a toy store?  If she finds an action figures section, maybe with the heroes’ figures in it…”

           Marc looked across at him.  “Dude,” he said. “That’s crazy awesome.  But how on earth would the heroes beat her after that?”

           “With the aid of a brand-new, never-before-seen and therefore unfranchised hero.”  Nath grinned smugly.  “See? I can be clever, too.”

           Even Marc had to laugh at that.  “Cool.  But Puppeteer’s pretty powerless on her own, she’d need a way to get her allies right off the bat.  Does Marinette still make those villain dolls?”

           Nathaniel slapped his page in defeat.  “No,” he said.  “I remember now, I asked her that before.”  At Marc’s questioning look, he explained.  “I was trying to work Puppeteer into a different story.  Forget that one then.”

           “Back to our first problem, then.”

           “It occurs, this is kind of how I work normally.”  The redhead chuckled lightly.  “I get too many ideas that I have to thin them out.  Which sucks, cause I think they’re all good, but I don’t want to do them all.”  He waved a hand dismissively.  “So, uh, welcome to my brain, I guess.”

           “Heh.”  Marc bit his lip anxiously.  “I don’t know if you noticed, but your pink friend is standing right there, listening in.”

           Nathaniel rolled his eyes and turned to face the intruder.  “I told you, Rose, I’m not spoiling it.”

           “Come on,” the girl moaned.  “Your stories are so interesting, Nathaniel, I really want to see what you’re working on.”

           “Right now, we’re not working on anything,” Marc pointed out.  “We can’t even decide which villains we want to use in this story.”

           Nath had an idea.  “Why don’t you help?”

           “What?” Rose gasped in delight.  “You want me to help with the story?”

           “Sure.  We can’t agree on anything.  What do you want to see?”

           “Oh, geez,” she gushed.  “This is so cool!  I get to pick the story!”

           “Hey,” piped Marc, looking at his partner. “Are you sure about this?”

           “Couldn’t hurt.  This is just brainstorming, after all.”

           He shrugged.  “Fine.  Rose, you got any ideas?”      

           “I’ve got it!  You should have a couples’ team-up.”  She clapped her hands together and rocked back on her heels.  “Then even the villains can get a romantic subplot.”

           “But…”  Marc scrunched his face.  “As villains?  But they won’t remember anything.”

           “Trust me,” Rose assured.  “I’ve seen it loads of times before.  Nothing brings two people together like a supervillain rampage.”  She sighed dreamily.  “So romantic.”

           “If you say so.”

           “I’m serious!”

           “Rose has a point.”  Alix agreed, finishing a yellowish streak on her wall.  “We know a lot of couples who got together after one of them went butterfly. Rust!”  Without even looking up from tuning her guitar, Juleka threw the requested color over to her.  “Even the first one we had, over a year ago, Stoneheart.  The whole reason he got corrupted was ‘cause he couldn’t spit out his crush and he was getting picked on for it.  Ivan and Mylène have been sickeningly saccharine ever since.”

           “And,” Rose added, “don’t forget, they had their first kiss after Mylène was akumatized.”  

           “ ‘Scuse me,” Marc butt in.  “This is the same Mylène that’s in that play with her dad?”

           “Uh-huh.”

           “She and her boyfriend have been akumatized?”

           “Yep.  Her dad, too.”

           “Cripes.”  Marc surveyed the room.  “You know, there’s a lot of rumors that come from your guys’ class.”

           “We’re aware,” Alix drawled, dropping her current can for a silver can in the row next to her.

           “So?”  Nath waited for his partner’s approval.  “Couples?”

           “Well…”  Marc gave in. “That’s still a better idea than what we’ve got.”  He turned up to Rose again.  “Have anyone in mind?”

           “Do Mylène and Ivan!”  She frowned suddenly.  “Or no, wait, Ondine and Kim!  No, Nino and Alya!”

           Marc blinked.  “You know an awful lot of past akumas.”

           “Well, everyone in our homeroom has been akumatized, so…”  She nodded.  “Yeah, we know a lot.”

           Marc gaped, aghast.  “E-everyone?”

           “Well, all but two.”  Rose suddenly found herself conflicted.  “Oh, no, I’m rooting for them to get together, but I don’t want them to get akumatized…”

           “How have all of you gotten akumatized!?” he exclaimed.  “I’ve heard of your class, I thought you were the ones with the big emotional support thing going on!”

           “Well, that was only after we got akumatized,” Alix explained.  She squinted.  “Whose idea for a word was ‘akumatized?’  That’s such a mouthful.”

           “Okay.”  Exasperated, he threw up his hands. “Seriously, what’s the deal here with your class?”

           “Well.”  Alix slid off her mask and stepped back to appraise her wall.  “You ever met Chloé Bourgeois?”

           Marc tilted his head.  “Once or twice.  Wasn’t she that kinda bratty girl who failed superhero-ing so badly she only got her second chance so she’d stop bragging about it?”

           “Hah!”  Alix shouted. “If only.  No, she’s still bragging about it.  Yellow!”  She held out her hand, waiting for someone to toss it to her, until she realized it was already in the pile at her feet.  “She’s in our homeroom, too.  And she’s been the cause for… oh, I think everyone but Ivan, Max, Lila and Nino.”  She uncapped the can and shook it.  “Like, two-thirds, including the teacher, and not counting people outside our class.”

           “Hang on,” Juleka challenged as Alix widened her yellow streak. “What about you?”

           “I blame her indirectly.  Dark Green!”  She caught it without even looking at her.  “You know, Rose, you didn’t get a girlfriend from your akuma.  In fact, if I recall correctly from the zillion times you’ve told the story, you and Juleka going out had nothing to do with the supervillain drama.”

           “Oh, yeah,” Rose realized.  She thought about this for a moment, looking at Juleka as if appraising the foundation of their relationship.  “Well, not every romance has to start like that, I guess.”  She snapped her fingers.  “Hey, but if you have Princess Fragrance in your big issue,” she leaned across the writers’ table for emphasis.  “I’ve got a request.”

           Nath rolled his eyes.  “Let me guess, you want her to team up with Reflekta?”

           “Heavens no!”  She got back on her feet and lowered her voice.  “Look, Juleka… doesn’t like Reflekta a lot.  I mean, she’s gotten a lot better with making herself more visible, but…”  She glanced back worriedly as Juleka stood up, having heard the conversation up to now. “It’s more out of resentment than anything else.”

           “Resentment?” Marc repeated, confused.  “How so?”

           “Nathan got to weaponize his passion,” Juleka stated.  “Rose was a twisted fairy-tale witch.  Even Sabrina got poetic justice.”  She crossed her arms, scowling to the side.  “I just made people look different, and I was decked-out in fuchsia.”

           Rose nodded, and added for Marc’s benefit, “She… hates fuchsia.”

           “I would have looked killer in red.”

           “Yep.”

           “Or purple, my signature.  Or I could have made pink creepy again.”

           “I know.”  Rose tried holding her arm, attempting to quell Juleka’s escalating tone.  “We know, sweetie.”

           “Just not all three of them.”  She looked behind her, scanning the room.  Marc noticed that the art teacher must have left the area moments ago. Juleka turned back.  “Who’s fucking idea was it to take those colors and think, oh, let’s mix those together, that’s a nice shade.  Let’s put it on this goth girl with heels and a fluffy rubber skirt.”

           Rose winced at the swear.  “She’s still not over it.”

           “I had eyelash jewelry, Rose!  No one can look threatening with eyelash jewelry!”

           “I’m sorry you all have to see this.  I swear, she hasn’t had this rant in months.”

           “I…” Juleka looked back at the sound of the door opening and saw the art teacher come back.  She lowered her voice to a grumble.  “I mean, everyone got some awesome dark side alter ego, and I didn’t.”  She started walking back to her bass.  “I got the absolute bottom of the barrel.”

           Everyone was still looking at Juleka after her outburst, so no one was looking at Marc.

           Marc’s face was a deathly pale.

           Words she had used flew through his head, replaying over and over and over.

           ‘Fuchsia.’

           ‘Heels.’

           ‘Fluffy Skirt.’

           ‘Eyelash Jewelry.’

           ‘Reflekta.’

           ‘Made people look different.’

           “That was you?” Marc squeaked, slamming a hand over his mouth.

           Rose looked at Marc strangely.  “Are you alright, Marc?”  

           “I…”  He tried to come up with an excuse.  “Excuse me.”

           He kept his head down as he escaped the classroom, choking down something threatening to come up from his stomach.

           He kept his head down walking into the washrooms, struggling to bring his breathing back under control and calm his anxiety.

           He only brought his head up to look at himself in the mirror.

           ‘Ugh, not him again.’

           It was that feeling again.  The one he didn’t have the right words for.  The one that came on fast and strong, but left soon after.

           He thought he knew what it was before, but he had been wrong.

           Someone opened a stall behind him.  Fine, let him look at the creep glaring at himself in the—

           “Marc?” Marinette called out, voice laced with worry. “W-What are you doing here?”

           Marc’s eyes widened in horror.  “I—” he stammered, clutching his journal like a lifeline. “I’m sorry, I’m in the wrong—”  He gave up trying to speak and he bolted.

           And he ran out of the girls’ washroom and back outside into the courtyard.

           And he fought down the pangs of hurt that told him no, he wasn’t in the wrong place.

           And he didn’t stop until he was back at the art room.

           “And anyway, he hasn’t been akumatized yet, but wouldn’t it be sweet if the Gamer went to him and—”  Rose stopped her rambling when Marc re-entered, two events which were to Nath’s relief.  “Oh, Marc, you’re back!” she chirped.

           “Is something wrong?” Nathan asked.

           “Yeah, I’m fine.”  Marc’s eyes widened and he corrected himself.  “I mean, no, nothing’s wrong.  Let’s uh…”  He tried to remember what the conversation was.  “Let’s do Rose’s first idea.  Her and Juleka, but not with R—” he gulped, too many emotions cluttering up that name for him to mention safely.  He managed to choke “Reflekta” out, and he hoped no one understood.

           “Uh… sure.”  Nath shrugged.  “I’ve never tried making an akuma before.”

           “Oooh,” Rose agreed.  “That’s an even better idea.  Let us know if you need help.”

           Rose left to rejoin her girlfriend, and Marc meekly took his seat again, shakily opening his journal.

           As Nathaniel started doodling up concepts, Marc sat across from him, doing nothing except idly rubbing his hands together.

           His hands.

           His arms.  His neck.  His chest.  His legs.  His face.

           His him.

           Why did it all suddenly make him want to scream?

Okay, this is the most rushed chapter yet, especially for being so long.

In this, I’m trying to write Marc as genderfluid (like Hope Morphin, the person he was based off of), but I’ve found during research that fluidity itself has a pretty loose definition, so I just picked one I thought would work.  I’d like to hear some feedback over if I’m doing something insensitive or offensive; this fic is still being edited, there’s still time for me to change things.

Also, I’ve started cross-posting this to AO3, under the username “BenignCyborg”.  I know Tumblr has a character limit for comments, so if you have something longer you can go there.

#miraculous ladybug #alix kubdel #marc anciel #nathaniel kurtzberg #rose lavillant #juleka couffaine #julerose #nathmarc #Marc Appreciation Week