#and i don't think of myself as being in the middle of man and woman either

[scorndotexe]

people referring to me as a man because i use he/him pronouns is equally as annoying as people referring to me as a woman because i'm a lesbian. gender is just one cage disguised as two.

#repeat after me: #''who am i now--woman or man? that question could never be answered as long as those were the only choices; #it could never be answered if it had to be asked'' #one of my favorite quotes from stone butch blues #the one i think about the most #also YES i *do* call myself a man and a guy and stuff sometimes. and sometimes i'm okay with people doing that as well #as long as we all understand i'm not male. i'm not a man as in male. #and because i'm a lesbian sometimes ''woman'' applies to me even if i'm not one #and i'd never call myself a woman #i don't want to be a man and i don't want to be a woman. i'm not a man and i'm not a woman. #and i don't think of myself as being in the middle of man and woman either #i'm something else. i'm butch. #persimmon's rambles

[ratgirlcopia]

[bones creaking with every step i take] i think a lot of copia's self-image issues would start resolving themselves pretty quick with a transition arc. but that's just me.

#copiaposting #i see a lot of copia's gender stuff being a bit more social dysphoria than physical dysphoria. #which may sound. interesting. given my plastic surgery takes. but i think that's like. rooted in social dysphoria too. #to me a key thing about copia's Everything in the chapters is that underlying vibe of...not getting perceived correctly. #like... not getting titled correctly by imperator/not being taken seriously by nihil. #and then like. hypercorrecting toward masculinity in a way that both doesn't work and makes him seem kind of miserable. #and tbh i read the like. disappointment at imperator not calling him papa as less “this is the title i want” and more like... #“what the hell i did all that and suppressed so much of myself and i don't even get the title” #which is SOOOOO ripe for some ghovie plot point that's like. alright copia! you did it and they still never titled you correctly! #at which point copia “snapping” and just doing whatever the hell it is he actually wants to do would be the natural Thing. #[waves hand] hence the transition/drag show arc that makes perfect sense in my head. you see. #where was i going with this. oh yeah. #i feel like copia going “oh. i'm a woman” would make a lot of the uhhh self-image issues start falling off. #no longer striving for the impossible (parental approval) and instead just going “oh THIS is what i needed/wanted all along.” #i feel like that would result in less of the...[gestures to the vague yet constant sense of misery and inadequacy wafting off him] #bad at being a papa worse at being a man great at being a middle aged gamer woman. is my personal interpretation.

[dragonpaint]

im going to McFuckin'g lose it i need to meet and hang out with queer people i can't stand being surrounded with cishet people anymore i'm going to Scream

#literally every conversation if it goes on long enough will eventually lead down to negative comments about queer people #or just shitting on cishet people for not being cishet enough 'bc you can never know these days' #im just boiling with rage in my head bc im shit at arguing bc i get too angry too fast to be able to get more rational response #or i just don't join the conversation bc i know there's no way to explain to them nicely under a minute when i'm busy with work #every time i think at least irl people i care about arent as cruel and stupid. they just say even dumber shit unprovoked #no you didn't have your brain rotten less from internet than SWJs that yell hashtag cancelled at the stupidest commercial #that nobody takes serious anyway and knows its just a bait for outrage to get their brand better known #you're just as brain broken (and worse) for seeing a person with 'bigger bones' and thinking oh she's definitely a man #a real woman doesn't look like that #or vice versa this man is too feminine to be a real man #you stupid bitch im queer do you think the same of me then?!??? #im so tempted to out myself but its still a bad time to do it now that i finally have a good job #living in the middle of vukojebina doesn't help At All #just smile and wave. you're witnessing mental illness

[violet-snail-sfw]

The first time I saw a trans woman was in porn. I was pretty young then, in early middle school I think. My first thoughts about trans women only existed in a sexual context, since that was the only place I saw us mentioned

The next time I saw trans people mentioned was a TV show presumably about trans people and transitioning. I didn't watch it, only saw the description because even as a kid I had already internalized the idea that it was taboo and I would get in trouble if my parents walked in and I was watching it

Eventually I saw enough TV and cop shows to see an episode with the dead trans hooker trope. It further reinforced the building idea that trans women were something else, separate from "normal" people and always on the outskirts of society

And then Caitlyn Jenner came out. At my Catholic middle school there were few kind things said about her and plenty of nasty comments, but this was the first time I saw trans people being publicly talked about

In high school my views on trans people started to fracture. On one hand, I was being pushed the idea that gender was about what's in your pants, that if you've got a dick your a man and there's nothing that can be done about it. On the other hand, early high school me had stumbled across some gender change erotica and quickly became obsessed with it. While it wasn't great representation, it was still pretty positive about transitioning. The people in those stories were always happier afterwards

I struggled to reconcile what parts of society were saying about trans people with my daydreaming about what I'd do if I woke up the next morning as a girl. Eventually I decided that it was just a fetish. I just thought it was hot, there was no way I could be trans because I was just a normal person. I wasn't weird or a spectacle for others to gawk at, I was just a person

Around that time I also met a trans person in passing for the first time. One of the trans guys at my high school was in one of the musicals that I went to because some of my friends were also in them. When I was talking to my friends about it after someone mentioned the trans guy and that he was trans. I wasn't really sure what to think so I kinda just didn't think about it. Thinking back, there were a few trans guys at my high school but I don't think there was a single out trans woman

Eventually in college I actually met some trans and nonbinary people. In some classes we introduced ourselves on the first day with names and pronouns which was my first exposure to people using pronouns other than just he/him and she/her. I had a few classes with trans and nonbinary people, including a survey of transgender studies class I took in my last semester. I had plenty of excuses for why I was taking it (I needed a few more credits to graduate. It still had room open. It fit with my other classes. It seemed interesting. I'm trying to be a good ally.)

Around this time as well I found some trans creators online like ContraPoints and Philosophy Tube (whom I had watched before she came out as trans). I was weirdly excited and interested when Odyssey Eurobeat came out as trans and I went to go listen to some of her music right after I heard. I was starting to have examples of trans people just being people. Not just porn stars or public spectacles, but people

Later I met and befriended a few trans women, one of whom was extremely open about her transness and happened to share a video which started the initial steps of my egg cracking and figuring out who I am now

If I had actually known any trans women, if the world had been kinder to trans people, if representation of trans women as people existed and was well known, I might have been able to realize who I was sooner. I would have been able to exist as myself for more than a tiny fragment of my life so far

Representation matters, both in media and in daily life. Trans people being out and open about who they are made it possible for me to realize that about myself. Please never stop being who you are

#violet's rambles #trans #transgender #transfem #nonbinary #okay to reblog

[theabigailthorn]

Hey I’ve been a fan for a little while now, and I just wanted to say that you’ve been an inspiration for me, a younger transfemme. But I do wanna also ask: what’s it like being a trans woman with her life together? I’m 19 (as of sending), been on hrt for almost 5 months, and have been trans for a year and change. But I’m scared. So, I guess, I wanted to ask: does being trans ever become the norm, my baseline? What’s it like after 2-3 years? And does it get any less confusing or scary?

I think there are a few things going on here.

I don't have my life together as much as it might seem; I just don't show you all the ways it's not. I don't talk publicly about the auditions I don't get, or the things I try and fail at, or the insecurities in my own head that hold me back sometimes, or the handful of decisions I've made that were bad calls and which still keep me up occasionally. I've talked about trauma and mental illness in the past, but I only ever discuss stuff I'm comfortably over - when I'm overwhelmed or in the middle of a crisis I don't post about it. I don't set out to deceive you by presenting myself that way, I just keep my most private stuff private. Everybody has failures and regrets and insecurities: "it's a sign of having lived," as my friend Phoebe told me today. But you see a curated version of me that appears not only more together than the real person, but more together than any real person.

Also, if you're 19 a lot of your life hasn't been in your control until pretty recently and a lot of it still might not be. I'd say it's okay to not feel like you have it all together. You just transitioned, which I think is one of the hardest things a human being can do: you can give yourself credit for that even if you feel like you're not settled into it yet. Congratulations!

As for it becoming the baseline, I mean yeah? Kinda? At least for me. Sometimes I forget. I had a moment today in the gym where I saw a man and I was like "Oh yeah, I used to be one of them, sortof? Weird!" The first year is the hardest, or so they say. I wouldn't say I get less confused or scared now, just scared and confused in different ways. I worry less about getting attacked in the street than I did in my first year, for example. (I'm lucky and privileged in that regard.) But I worry a lot more about other people. I struggle a lot with survivor's guilt, which is something only people who survive get! Anyone who's had a drink with me in the last six months has heard me beat myself up because the night of The Prince premiere in New York was the night of Brianna Taylor's vigil in the UK. That wasn't a deliberate decision - the premiere was booked and paid for months before she was even killed - but I've become a lot more sensitive to those sorts of feelings precisely because I spend less time worrying about myself. I'm more aware now of what my transness means for other people. Like, I made an ironic joke when I came out that I'd become The Transgender Princess of TERF Island, and it's kindof haunted me since - I didn't set out to become "a famous trans person" but it's happened a little bit and it's going to happen a lot more next year. That comes with serious responsibilities and a few mild drawbacks, as well as perks, obviously. So I guess that's a longwinded way of saying I might be a weird person to ask this question because, at least for right now, my transness, my whole self, doesn't just belong to me.

Oh also, some great advice I got from my friends: Paris: "Only change the things that bother you on your good days," and Mattie: "Don't believe anything you think about your life after 9pm."

[slutforleeminho]

HI HI HI 😋

your work is so amazing, you're such a good writer! i have no idea if your taking requests, but if you could maybe find time... could you write part two of 'the other woman' please?

it was so well written, and i love some good angst with an even better plot 🫶🏽

also another 'no idea' but if you do anons... could i be 🍧 anon?

tyyy and ofc you can be 🍧 anon

The Other Woman • Hwang Hyunjin

ft. lee felix

THIS IS A PART TWO TO THIS - CANT BE READ AS A STAND ALONE

"Nice to meet you, Felix."

~

"Felix stop it!" Your chest was hurting from the force of your laughing. His fingers dug into your sides, causing your body to automatically jolt from the ticklish feeling. "Seriously lix I'm actually going to pee myself if you don't stop." you barely got the words out through your continuous giggling. only then did he cease his antics and let you breath.

"Eww don't do that. I don't want to have to wash the sheets again." he shifted his body until he was facing you, lying on his side with his arm supporting his head. "That would be the third time this week."

You could hear the smugness in his voice without even looking at him, but when you did, what did you see? a big toothy grin plasterd across his beautiful face. "Shut up." you playfully nudged his shoulder. But the drama queen in him came out as he gripped the place that you hit him with both of his hands in pain, as if you had just shot him.

"Ah, what the hell. are you trying to chop my arm off?"

"Oh, shut up you big baby." you wrapped your arms around his torso and pulled him closer until his nose was basically touching yours. His big brown eyes were staring deep into your soul, expectantly.

"Only if you kiss it better." He whispered against your lips, the warmth of his breath against your skin made you shiver. he had a way of making you feel so safe and protected from the world, like nothing could touch you as long as you had him. He leaned even closer in attempt to connect his lips with yours, but the harsh sound of your phone ringing startled you both out of the little bubble you created. You both huffed a breath of annoyance in unison. "It's him again, isn't it?" felix rolled over on his back. it was more of a statement than it was a question.

You grabbed your phone off of the nightstand just to see that there was no caller id so yes it indeed was him.

After Hyunjin walked out on you, you cried and cried and then cried some more, then after that you blocked his number, along with all his other social media accounts. You thought that would be the end.

You were wrong.

The phone calls from unknown numbers started a couple of days after you met Felix. Only once every few days, you never answered of course, you knew as soon as you heard his voice, you'd be right back in the place you're trying so hard to crawl out of. Then you started getting comments on all of your old Instagram posts:

"I miss you."

"Pick up the phone."

"Baby, please I love you."

"I can't stop thinking about you."

Seeing that made you both angry and hurt. How could he even say that? You gave that man everything you had while he was only giving you a few days a week. You made sure not to dwell on it for too long, deleting the comments and blocking those accounts.

Then the calls came more frequently, mostly late at night when he was probably alone and horny.

Once you and Felix made your relationship official, you came clean about everything. The affair, the phone calls, the comments, you wanted no secrets between you two, nothing to get in the middle of something that has the potential to grow and become something beautiful. He was shocked but he tried his best to understand and made sure to tell you how proud he was of you for being strong enough to be the one to end things.

"I'm going to kill that guy if I ever see him." Felix said before standing up from the bed.

"Where are you going?" You rushed to say, the worry in your voice was too thick to hide. The anxiety that he'd get sick of you constantly being interrupted by your ex haunted you, and he knew it.

He smiled and walked over to your side of the bed. "To make us some breakfast, I know how hungry you are in the mornings." he leaned down and pressed a kiss on the tip of your nose. "Don't worry, okay? Nothing can stop me from loving you."

~

The past six months have felt like a vivid dream, you started working for a very famous clothing designer - as an assistant but it was something - and you loved every second of it, you had basically ripped your apartment apart and replaced everything in it and made it your dream home. But the best part was the person who was by your side the entire time, Lee Felix. Of course, you started out as friends but you both knew it wouldn't stay that way for long.

You had a perfect schedule: date nights on Monday, sleepover at his place on Wednesdays, and movie night at your place on Saturdays, where he'd spend the night and leave Sunday morning after brunch. You both agreed not to spend every day together because you're still healing from your past relationships and Felix has never been in a serious relationship. But of course, if one or the other got a text saying they missed the other, it only took about ten minutes before there was a knock at their door.

But today is Saturday and you haven't seen him since Tuesday morning since he had to work late on Wednesday. To say you were excited was an understatement, you were practically pacing around the kitchen waiting for him to get here, until he finally appeared on the other side of the island. "That spare key you gave me comes in handy."

"Felix!" you squealed and quickly made your way around the bar and wrapped your arms around his neck. "You took way too long to get here."

"It's ten a.m., did you want me here before daylight?" he was teasing you, but his hands caressed down your back to pull you closer against him. He missed you too.

"I expected nothing less."

~

"Why did you pick a sad movie?" you sobbed behind your hands.

"Baby, it wasn't that sad." he tried to argue but you saw him wipe away that stray tear right before the movie ended. He thought he was sneaky.

"Tell that to the girl whose best friend just died." you gestured to the tv. Another cry coming from your lips.

"Aww baby stop before you make me cry." he grabbed your shoulders and pulled you down on his chest, and combing his fingers through your hair. "Hey," he tilted your head up until you were nose to nose with him, the tears immediately stopped. "it's okay, honey it's all fake."

ring. ring. ring.

"Ughh," you pushed yourself up and grabbed your phone. "It's like he fucking knows!" you put it on Do Not Disturb and shut it off completely. You were pissed now. "I don't know what to do Felix." You plopped back on the couch and he pulled you back to him once again.

"it's okay, love. We'll figure something out, I promise." there wasn't a trace of hurt or annoyance in his eyes, just genuine concern for you. This time when you leaned forward your lips met his and it felt like ages since you were this close to him. He pulled you closer to deepen the kiss, as one hand moved to cup the side of your face.

"Y/N?"

At first you thought you were hallucinating from all the stress, until Felix jerked away from you and stood, dragging you up with him and stepping in front of you to shield you from the intruder.

"Who the hell are you and how did you get in here?" Felix yelled.

Hyunjin looked between you and Felix, confusion all over his face. "Y/N, baby who is this?"

Oh, hell no. You grabbed Felixs hand and squeezed it reassuringly before stepping out from behind him. He was hesitant on letting you any closer to this random man until you said: "He's my boyfriend, Hyunjin." Oh.... Its Hyunjin. Your ex boyfriend.

"How did you get in here?"

He held up the spare key you had forgotten you'd given him while ya’ll were together. You snatched it from his hand before he could pull away. "Why the fuck are you in my apartment?"

"I-" his eyes started to water. "You're with someone else?"

You turned to look at Felix, his jaw was clenched as he watched Hyunjins very move. "Yes. Now leave."

"But I- I thought you loved me," his voice broke. "And I still love you. Y/N, I left her. I left her so we could be together." He said that with a smile as if that would change your mind. No, it made you want to vomit.

"Good, she deserves better. And so do I."

He nodded his head, processing what you just said. You could physically see his hurt turning into anger. "So," he looked straight into your eyes. "Did you tell your little boy toy over there what we did on that couch that you were kissing him on? Hmm? How much you loved it when I leaned you over it and I fucked you till you were begging for m-" He was cut off by you harshly slapping him across the face, the force making him stumble back a bit. In the corner of your eye you saw Felix launch forward just in case hyunjin decided to replicate your violent energy.

"How dare you come into my home and degrade me like this, let alone Infront of someone I care about! I did love you, Hyunjin, but not anymore. And you never loved me. You may know my favorite designer brand or what I like in bed but that's all you know. You don't know what my favorite color is or my dream job, so you definitely don't know who I want. So let me tell you. It's. Not. You. And it never will be. It'll always be me. I am who I want to be happy, and nobody else can make that happen." you stopped to take a deep breath to calm down and hyunjin took that as his que to speak.

"I should've never left her for you, all you are is a cheap slut." This time the smack you heard didn't come from you. It was Felix lunging forward and punching him in the face. A loud crack came from the impact, and you couldn't tell if it was Hyunjins nose or Felix's hand. But judging from the blood gushing from Hyunjins nose, it was definitely broken. Hyunjin stumbled to the floor while holding a hand over his bleeding nose.

"Felix stop!" you grabbed him by the arm and pulled him off of hyunjin. "You," you pointed at hyunjin and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and yanked him up and towards the door. "Out!" Opening it you pushed him out, slamming it in his face, but not before getting in the last word. "Nice going hyunjin, you just earned yourself a restraining order."

Once the door was closed the reality I what just happened came crashing down on you like a bag of bricks. you pressed your back against the door and slid down it and let all the emotions show themselves. “Felix, i’m so sorry.” you sobbed into you hand. you couldn’t even imagine how he felt right now, but still he came to you and took you in his arms as you cried.

“it’s okay, love, you did the right thing. Don’t worry, ok? i’m here, i’ve got you.”

I feel like every time i post I’m apologizing for not being active, but i had a good reason this time😭



@caitlyn98s @bangchansbae @fawnpeaks @yumiblogs @katsukiswife @seung-mine @sungprotector @soephiphanymain @minnieslover@kjr-army @gingerblade @ebbaskz @nqvgue @sl6gszn @erisuna @jenniferzipsblog @broken-glowsticks @superiorbrownskinn @skzstaykatsy @laexoticlunatic @vrslvts1

not all of y’all are on my taglist but were some of the people asking for a part two so i hope you don’t mind, just wanted to make sure you saw it☺️

#stray kids #kpop #skz #kpop oneshots #skz scenarios #kpop senarios #skz imagines #skz smut #kpop smut #skz stay #skz felix #skz hyunjin #skz x reader #skz fanfic #skz fluff #skz female member #skz angst #skz au #kpop fluff #kpop fanfic #kpop fyp #kpop angst #sad thoughts #sad ending #lee felix skz #lee felix stray kids #lee felix #hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader

[nicolesainz]

Your thighs up like my anticipation (MM7)

Mason Mount x f!reader

Author’s note: due to popular demand, the filth shot will have as its protagonist the hot stuff no7 of Manchester United, Mason Mount. This idea came to my mind abruptly given I love seeing pics of footballers screaming.

Summary: Its pure filth there's no plot

Warnings: minors dni, 18+, praise kink, pet names, sub/dom, oral sex, unprotected sex (do not encourage it whatsoever)

"I am disgustingly in love with how you taste" Mason moans along with me as I feel his lips attached to my pussy.

Match days should be exhausting a player usually, not give them more energy. Mason defies the odds in our case.

I refuse to remove my eyes from his feasting. My whole body is shivering as his strong arms hold on to my thighs, needing balance, while he is sucking on every last drop of my wetness. My hands are holding onto the bedpost, so I can find an ounce of self control.

Because my self respect has disappeared.

It's already midnight, the neighbours are sleeping and the only thing echoing in this entire block are my moans from Mason torturing touch. I get more wet as each lick slides my pussy, getting me all excited and worked up. This man knows how to make a woman feel good.

"Thighs up for me baby. I need to have you all to me." I push up my thighs, giving him more room and to my surprise he slides in my clit two fingers, pumping them slowly but painstakingly erotically inside me, causing me to gasp out of breath loss.

"Don't hold back. Let me hear you scream." He demands and I decide to test him a little bit, for which I will be punished afterwards.

"You will have to do better than that." I fearlessly reply and feel a wave of coldness rushing against my pussy, given he removed his fingers and mouth in seconds.

"What did you just say? Do better?" His face comes closer to mine, lips attacking my already bruised neck, sucking more painfully than before. Motherfucker had found my soft spot and kept on sucking until I scratched his back with my fingernails.

"Not enough for me daddy." I saw with a loud moan coming along as Mason furiously inserts his middle finger inside my cunt, pumping it along with the pace of his kisses.

"Say that one more time sweetheart and I promise you, that you will not be able to walk for days." I can feel his cock pushing against my pussy, even under the boxers, becoming needier as time goes by.

"I need more." I repeat myself knowing the consequences to my actions.

I trusted Mason with my life knowing he would never hurt me physically or mentally, hence why I always challenge him.

"Not playing nice missy. Do you know what girls with your behavior are?” He takes ahold of my hand and places it on his hardened cock, above the boxers.

I raise my eyebrow playfully, knowing I have a portion of control on him. As I breathe in more deeply, my breasts pop out, grabbing Mason’s attention in mere seconds.

“Eyes up baby” I sternly say and he lets my hand loose, as I afterwards slide it inside his underwear and start tracing his cock with my fingers. I can feel on the tip the pre cum with just a slight touch.

“Slutting it up I see?” He weakly says, before his cock springs out and I turn our bodies on the opposite, with me being on him. Mason underneath me is my favorite second version of him. The first one is the goal scoring version.

"Only for Mr.Mount's eyes." I whisper seductively in his ear as my fingers play with his hard rock cock, waiting to have a taste of my pussy. Mason's slight groans of desperation excite me. I am so incredibly proud of his performance today so I think he deserves to be treated specially.

"Baby I need you so incredibly much. I can't hold myself. Please let me make you feel good." The way the words fall out his mouth make him very irresistible to me.

I place his cock against the entrance of my cunt and slick it softly before I open my legs a bit further so Mason can slide in more conformably. Once I start feeling the stretches in my pussy a loud breathless moan escapes my lips, weakening every ounce of control I had on him. He fits so perfectly it feels like a crime.

I hadn't realised when Mason switched out positions and for once again I was underneath him. My eyes were glued to his abdominal part, where I could get the best view of his Champions League tattoo and simultaneously his V-line from where veins pop out with each thrust.

"If you are to stare at my tattoo so much I might as well get one of your liking." He has suggested that again, although I prefer if he gets ones he likes, given I have no say on his body, except for a few minutes almost everyday.

"All your tattoos are to admire Mase. Just like yourself." I manage to say before Mason shuts me up with a deep stuck thrust followed by a passionate kiss, sucking up all the air I have left.

"Being nice won't make me go all soft on you darling." His fingers trace the lining of my nipples, arousing me to the fullest. My hands are holding against his bum so he deepens himself inside my pussy until I can't breathe.

"Look at you, all weak and needy for my cock, taking it so well as I see." I get dizzy as Mason hits my soft spot, forcing me to grab onto the sheets, almost ripping them off from the pressure.

"You are so fucking beautiful and only mine. What a joy." Mason's lips are all over my neck, trying to not leave any spot of it without a hickie. I wouldn't be surprised if I woke up with his name spelt on my body with purple marks.

"I love you Mason. Oh" I gasp before I feel both Mason and mines arousal coating me. Mason falls next to me, both trying to catch our breaths, hands against each others chest, feeling the beat of our hearts.

"I am sorry if I was a bit rough with you my love. You know I always want to please you."

"Tonight all that mattered was to please you. I am incredibly proud with your performance, like I always am Mase."

"I am so incredibly lucky to have you. I love you too."

#mason mount #mason mount smut #mason mount x reader #mason mount fanfic #mason mount x y/n

[newchangestf]

Lesson learned

Being a model was great, the work was easy and the pay was plenty. I got to work out at the gym, show up for a few photos and have men and woman fawn over me online.

Gay guys were always the thirstiest. Always liking, sharing, commenting what the want me to do to them. It was pathetic. Why would I, looking like this, want to go anywhere near a guy when I could bag so much pussy?

It was funny though, teasing them, I'd always post pictures teasing them so I could laugh at how pathetic they were.

"These faggots are honestly so pathetic. Could you imagine actually wanting to take a dick up your ass?" I said aloud laughing at some of the comments on my latest post.

Turns out I wasn't alone. I don't know who overheard but a message suddenly appeared on my phone.

"In this day and age it is really disappointing to see someone so young and so attractive be so backwards." It read.

I scoffed at it and replied with the laughing face and middle finger emoji.

"Well, It seems its going to take more than a stern word to change your mind. I think it's time you learned your lesson." read the response.

That night when I was in bed sleeping, my mind started to wander. I started thinking about hot babes with huge tits and round asses. Imagining myself towering over them.

However, I started to imagine myself looking up to them. Feeling smaller and weaker.

As I looked up to these woman they bagan to change. Their tits remained huge but began to become firmer and squarer. Soon I was no longer staring at their round asses huging a bikini but rather a bulge in the front of their boxers?

I began sweating heavily in the bed. The once beautiful beach babes had turned into towering men with huge pecs and fat cocks. My cock began to grow firm and leaky as I looked up to these...these muscle daddies. I imagined myself dropping to my knees to worship their meat.

What was going on? Why was I thinking like this? Why did I want their disgust...no gorgous cocks in my mouth and ass?

I was now in a pool of sweat and pre cum in my bed. My breathing growing faster and faster as I began to savour these imaginary beasts.

Eventually it all reached it's crescendo. The two men exploded over my face whilst I, beyond the dreamworld, blew my load.

Nothing was the same after that night. I was still a model of course but I lost all interest in woman. The thought of bedding a swimsuit model done nothing for me now.

No, what scratched that itch, and boy did I have an itch, was being slammed by hot men with fat cocks. I could remember a time before I became this slutty manwhore. I learned my lesson, I certainly am pathetic especially when I have a man inside my ass.

#male tf #gay transformation #straight to gay #mental transformation

[public-trans-it]

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

clothes and makeup and certain interests do not equal gender.

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

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

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

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

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

Detransition.

Read More

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

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

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

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

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

"Gender is an ongoing process"

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

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

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

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

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

#I think I'm gonna start doing that for Read Mores #so you can find your place easier after click it #since my 'style' in these long posts is like... a fairly longish NON-readmore post. followed by the actual readmore. Let me know if it work #text essay #gender #detransition #I uh... also have some more... complex feelings of detransitioning #that may be a LIIIIIIITTLE more controversial......... #none of it goes against what i said here #its more personal stuff with my own gender and how detransition specifically is something that exists not as gender itself #but as the societal perceptions of a persons gender #but thats a more complex topic that I'll add on to this at another date #also I am absolutely taking this ask at face value for the sake of this post #but I am not so naive as to believe that the blatant TERF that sent it was being genuine #this is ABSOLUTELY the kind of thing they send people to drive a wedge in the community #I'm not even going to fucking dignify that part of it with any mention in the body of this post #edit: ........... okay the readmore accidentally moved somehow #I fixed it now though

[uter-us]

"magic gender feelings"

hey yall! gonna clarify stuff abt this post

outside of and including radfems, there are many reasons a woman might not "feel" like a woman. a huuuuge notable one is that we live in a world where women are not valued the way men are and that is reflected in media and politics and interpersonal experiences and like every second ever. of course a woman or girl might not "feel" like the caricature, stereotype, or role that is thrust upon women. she might not feel the same way the rest of the word "feels" a woman should be. that is not "called being nonbinary," its just a normal reaction to misogyny

additionally, when radfems say they do not "feel" like a woman, its often heavy on the word feel, in that we simply are women and our womanhood is not tied to an internal ("magic gender") feeling. (fyi ik the "magic" part is j lighthearted and a joke, but the content of the message applies.) that is why i do not "feel" like a woman because i cannot "feel" something that is merely my reality. (i don't feel like i have curly hair, i just have curly hair.) most actual feelings i have regarding myself and my inner identity are merely aspects of my personality.

some comments:

->

(the person in the middle is being mean for no reason so ignore that)

i get the sentiment, and i can recognize that honestly in some ways it probably is much easier, but it's also not based in any material reality. and when denying (or just not completely understanding. im not attributing malice!) the subjugation an entire class of people face due to their sex, that is not a happy sparkly good vibe

i used to go by all pronouns and while never outwardly identified as "genderfluid" i heavily identified with it. and i do know that "vibe," and i cant describe the uniquely liberating experience it is to recognize that being a woman means nothing to my "vibe" or personality or anything like that.

i know the word "woman" takes on a lot, especially roles/stereotypes, but you don't ever have to reflect that in your actions. you can vibe with what makes you happy without attributing it to not being your observed sex. like you can legitimately do and be whatever you are doing while female and that qualifies as a woman!! theres nothing more to it!! its amazing!

when i hear radfems make the claim that "everyone would be nonbinary," it's more in the sentiment that no one 100% adheres entirely to the roles/expectations of man or woman, basically that to imply some people's "gender" or whatever IS binary is strange! not even the most tradwife or "alpha male" commits entirely to the role yk? not even they are 100% in either binary. it would be impossible, and every person inches out of these gendered expressions/performances/etc at LEAST from time to time (some more often than others, but it definitely is everybody)! so its just recognizing that sure there could be some "gender spectrum" but its far more real to acknowledge everyone is somewhere in the middle of these strict binaries than just a minor group of people. (at least that's my understanding of when radfems make that statement.)

lots of radfems used to be TRAs or trans-identified individuals-- even still have dysphoria-- and that contributed to their becoming radfems!! many radfems understand the pain of dysphoria, and their experience w medicalization and/or interpersonal experiences aid in their current understanding of gender ideology and what it means to be a woman. (also see below cuz i expand more on the other part, especially the last comment.)

the first comment i find so interesting because i think thats often the point. like often someone will claim they feel like a woman/man/nonbinary-person/etc or not, and are so sure of it. and because so much of this is dependent on the way you feel, one of the things that changed my mind abt gender ideology was j considering like, "how do i know this isnt the feeling of a woman? how do i know other women aren't experiencing this?" like even trans rights activists will state that not everyone "feels" being nonbinary the same way for example. so who's to say this feeling i feel is not also the feeling of a woman? yk? because chances are, theres a lot of other women feeling discomfort with their natal sex and perception/self-perception, and so much more!

so i'd ask anyone who says what the top comment says: if a woman is someone who feels like a woman, but you can't define or break down that feeling, how are you sure all of these women are feeling the same thing?

i consider myself a relatively patient person 99% of the time, but this is so aggravating! for anyone not in the loop, an egg is a term for someone who is trans but doesn't know it yet. hypocrisy is one of my greatest frustrations, cuz a huge TRA thing is that you can't tell other people if they are a man/woman/nonbinary-person/etc, and you always have to respect their identity, but apparently that doesn't apply now!!

its very invasive to push your own idea of what and who someone is onto them-- and no one can claim this "isn't pushing" when this individual has literally written (unsolicited) about a stranger's identity based off their own projections or preconceived ideas on what a woman should feel. and i get it, its the internet, people are gonna write whatever, but i have a right to be frustrated by it too!!

okay last one! if anyone knows where that post is or who made it, but basically i saw this post on here a while ago about how sometimes TRAs resemble some Christians. and the example was comparing something similar to the above circled comment, to an interaction between an atheist and a Christian thats something like. "I'm an atheist." "Oh, so you worship Satan?" and its like the idea that someone can't even consider outside of their view that their attempt to align you w it is entirely inaccurate, yk? like atheists don't worship Satan cuz they don't believe in him! and radfems/whoever don't have "a gender" cuz they don't believe in it (in the same sense tras do)!!

im sorry if i've come off super irritable writing this! i think im j frustrated for other reasons besides this, but i hope i don't come off especially unkind because i genuinly don't hold any hatred or discontentment w this person who made that tiktok, my point to this post is to clarify some of these comments because i see this idea all the time and when the radfem pov is misconstrued its much harder for TRAs to converse w us (cuz they arent really debating our ideas, but some other group w some other ideas). (i also dont speak for all radfems so keep that in mind too.) anyway if anyone disagrees/agrees or has corrections or needs clarification or anything feel free to reply!! :)

#radfem #radical feminist safe #sex based oppression #radblr #terfsafe #gender critical #terfblr #not j a reblog tag

[demonicbaby666]

A Workplace Brawl

Kinktober 2023 | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem!Reader

Genre: Smut

Words: 1k

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, just a light bit of fingering really...

A/n: Despite the title, this does not take place in the workplace. I apologise for I am a filthy liar. Also, I rushed this so don't come at me!

‘I fucking hate you’ are the exact four words continuously leaving Emily’s lips, that is, right before she crashes them down on yours. 

It was a rough one today. She’s been working for months to catch the man you’re defending, and all that work had been thrown down the drain due to some idiot filing a key piece of evidence wrong.

Safe to say she’s pissed, and you’re not surprised when a heavy hand pounds violently against your front door. It’s slightly alarming, what with it being close to midnight, but the moment you see that familiar fringe through the peephole, your stomach somewhat settles. 

“Hurry up and open the fucking door.” Emily barks out, hand still thudding on the door.

“Hold on!” You say, unlocking the door and removing the chain, “What brings you to my door in the middle of the night, other than trying to scare the living shit out of me?” 

As she always does, the ravenette doesn’t wait for an invitation. She barges past you before turning around and burning holes into you with her eyes. 

“What the hell was that?” she shouts, and you manage to close the door in time for her bellowed question to be trapped between the walls of your hallway.

“Emily, it’s late. Can we do this another night?” You sigh, “It’s been a long day.” 

“A long day of getting a killer off?” 

You smirk, raising an eyebrow, “As opposed to you?” 

In the blink of an eye, Emily has you pressed against the wall, one hand clasped around your throat and the other traipsing down your body, “You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” 

It’s been this way for a while. She gets angry, you get angry, and then one of you ends up against a wall, writhing in pleasure and seething with hate. 

Emily steadies herself, placing a hand on the wall as you grab her hips and pull her further into you. At this point, it’s instinctual. You can’t help yourself from already feeling fired up and enticed by the opportunity presented. 

Her hands easily find the knot tying your robe closed and effortlessly untangle the barrier preventing her from laying her rough touch over your bare skin. Cold fingers brushed over your stomach, sending shivers through your spine. Involuntarily, your head hits the wall as svelte digits dive into your satin underwear to enter your cunt. 

“I’ve bested you numerous times. So yes, I do consider myself pretty smart,” you moan, looping your arms around the ravenette’s neck. 

The comment earns you a sneer and a violent thrust inside you that tempts the low groan lying dormant in your throat to come out of hiding. The agent quickly silences you with a heavy kiss that promises no mercy or leniency. Her deceitfully soft lips press harshly against your disgruntled scowl before a demanding tongue plunges in and shows off the dominance it holds. 

With two fingers pressing firmly against the ridged lining of your inner walls, you become pliant and submit to the swirling muscle venturing through your mouth. 

A smirk paints Emily’s lips, and you let her bathe in her momentary glory before using her inflated ego to your advantage. Flipping the both of you around, you slam the older woman against the wall and snigger at the discontented grunt that comes from the BAU chief, who is accustomed to always being in control.

She gingerly tries to redouble her efforts, fucking faster and harder into you, though you manage to resist in time to mirror her actions. A hand slides down the front of her slacks and meets a sea of arousal, and you can’t help but revel in the mess you single-handedly created. 

“You really must hate me,” you grin, “I can feel the hate dripping down my fingers.” 

“Shut up and fuck me already,” Emily growls, pressing down on your teasing digits and faltering in her efforts to pump into you continually. 

“The first part, I’m not so sure about. The second, however…” Without warning, you slam three fingers inside her and place your thumb over her clit, applying pressure so hard it must be teetering on the brink of painful. 

Emily cries out, and you dive down to tear into the porcelain skin of her neck, forcing her to scream out your name. Her pulse point thrums over your lips, and you pull the steady beat into your mouth. Feeling the older woman’s breathing hitch, you move around the open space, marking a messy array of red blotches into bitter-perfumed skin. 

The fingers inside you remain stagnant, struggling to provide any stimulation other than bursts of shudders that match the agent’s uneven breathing. 

Reaching down, you guide Emily out of you - ignoring the protested whine - and bring her wet fingers to your lips. “You looked so fucking angry when the judge announced the verdict today,” you tease, taking her fingers into your mouth and sucking your arousal clean, “I had to stop myself from fucking that scowl right off your face in front of everyone.”

“I fucking hate you,” she seethes with her teeth clamped tightly - likely trying to stop an impending moan from slipping free. 

Knowing you hold a modicum of power over her in this moment, you seek out the trapped moan by curling your fingers on the following thrusts and circling the engorged clit beneath your thumb. 

The veins in Emily’s neck look close to bursting as she fights her own body’s need for release. Her throat is bobbing despite her sorrowful attempts to level her breathing, and you decide to give her that last push to take her over the edge. 

“I fucking hate you too, but god, do I love fucking you.” You whisper hotly into her ear, slipping your fingers under her shirt and bra to wrap a possessive hand around her bare breast. 

With her hands gripping your hair so tight there’s a likelihood she’s going to pull it out, Emily finally falls apart.

Tags: @ssa-sapphic @aws-l @babygirlscout @red1culous @7thavenger @sapphicprentiss @five-bi-five-mind @jenna-ortega-is-pretty17177 @supercorpstan97 @kenyakimble34 @12fluffybunny12 @asensitivecookie @summoned-lust-demon @maxinehufflepuffprincess @whosprentiss @asolitaryrose3 @imlike-so-gaydude @maybe-a-humanbean @taylorswiftsboyfriend @bossofcriminalminds @asphodelvamp @jareguiromanoff @lilfartbox1 @lovelyy-moonlight @patronagrona @lostenby | click here to be added to my taglist

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss #emily prentiss fanfiction #criminal minds

[taylor-titmouse]

Julia is sick of working late. She's sick of being disrespected, and most of all she's sick of her boss. Lance is a burned out, smooth-talking playboy, but he also happens to be the son of the CEO.  When Lance pushes her buttons once too often, Julia is tempted to put him in his place – but is it worth throwing away her career for a moment of satisfaction? Content: -F/M -dom -degradation -small penis humiliation -directed masturbation -power play 5k words,  EPUB and PDF format Only $3, Releases later tonight! you can go read the first two pages on the shop page!

i've mentioned a couple times now that my editor and the author of roger crenshaw: the dogs at duskfall @mortalityplays is now available for freelance work for people other than me, but i don't think i've made as big of a deal how he's ALSO going to start releasing his own smut shorts on the last friday of every month! he is SUCH a talented writer on top of being an excellent editor and it's my absolute delight to work with him on the cover for his first release. FINALLY i have a great answer when asked "is there anyone else writing smut like you?"

and since this was the first time in a while i went through a cover design process that wasn't just me making one for myself, i thought i would go into how it went!

The Prompt

R/L wanted something that didn't visually describe the characters, because he had deliberately avoided that himself in the text. these characters are archetypes, ideas of characters: a woman who works in an office and her playboy burnout boss. for an erotic fantasy scenario, not going into detail can be ideal, as it allows the reader to project their own fantasies onto the characters. but what does that mean for a cover, when showing off the characters is often the point?

The Thumbnails

it means silhouettes, babie! if you're a reader of romance you've probably seen this approach a few times. silhouettes allow you to give the impression of a character without actually specifying them. HOWEVER! that can only go so far. note the female silhouettes in the left and right thumbnails--one with a pony tail, one with her hair down. these two very minor design elements say completely different things about the character, and pin her design down into something specific. (there is a whole line of feminist thought about this, that there is no such thing as an "unmarked" woman, or rather a woman whose presentation does not say something about her, ie a woman not wearing makeup is not perceived as neutral the way a man not wearing makeup is).

so anyway including her in the cover in full doesn't work for the prompt, because how she wears her hair or how she dresses would say something about her that we don't want to say. thus: we chose the middle design!

a man in a shirt and tie are super archetypal, and """neutral""" enough to not say anything specific about lance, our male protagonist, other than he has a job and is of average size (which are of course not technically truly neutral, but for our purposes, are functional as symbols). and while a long, narrow, leg does still say something about julia, it is abstracted enough to simply represent the concept of "woman" without projecting an overall image of her in the reader's head. she has a leg, and she wears high heels. that's all you get!

The Sketch

now we can move on to the sketch stage! this is the point at which the palette and text are figured out. i tried a few fonts before landing on one that had the retro paperback all-caps feel that i liked, and i used what i believe to have been a risograph print texture from retrosupply.

we went with the text up top rather than at the bottom, because it lends weight to the shoe and balances out the blacks in the pants. it also allows the figure to take up more of the cover, which is ideal. honestly, not a whole lot to say about this bit that i didn't cover in thumbnails: which is the point of doing thumbnails in the first place!

The Finish

well you can just scroll up to see that one. the final colors ended up a little less saturated, a little cooler, to bring it home to the retro paperback look i was going for and tie the colors together. i'm very pleased with it and had a lot of fun. cover design is one of my favorite parts of putting out books, and it was especially fun working with someone else to bring their vision to life.

anyway, you should go buy this book! it's only three dollars and i want to make more covers for these! your purchases would prove that i am a very good investment as a cover artist >:)

#tt art #tt talks drawing #cover design

[thewritingofspencerrose]

Mistakes Made

Travis Kelce x OC

I've gone to stay with Jason and the girls. When you've decided you're ready to talk, you know where to find me.

Those words weren't the first thing to trigger Travis to the fact that he had fucked up.

The first was when he had left without a response on Friday, but he had assumed she would reach out and they would fix things.

The second was the night before the game. There was no facetime, no call, nothing to soothe the amount he was missing her.

The third was when he only got a single text from her during the week he was gone, on Sunday just before the game, and it was only five words. Good luck, I love you.

He had realized immediately how badly he had fucked up. But not for a moment did he want to recognize that.

"You are the biggest asshat I have ever had the displeasure of knowing."

"Jason-"

"Who do you think you are showing up at my front door?" It's Kylie this time, still wiping her hands on a towel from the kitchen but her expression is anything but the image of kind housewife that the rest of her is portraying. "After what you did to Dorthy, you have the audacity to show your face?"

"Ky," Is all he can manage to mumble, every ounce of exhaustion clear in his whole body. "I'm here to fix things, not to fight with you or Jason."

"You shouldn't have left yourself with something to apologize for Trav," Jason is the one to offer as advice, letting him into the entry. "Thea showed up to the house sobbing with an overnight bag on Friday and Ky couldn't even get the reason for your fight out of her until yesterday."

"I fucked up, I know that."

"Your girlfriend told you she was pregnant with your child and you walked out of the house without a word. You more than fucked up Travis," Kylie corrects, the end of her scolding being punctuated with soft giggles from another room.

"What are the girls doing up so late?" Travis asks, knowing the sound of his nieces giggles by heart. "I thought they had a bedtime of 8:30?"

"Dorthy and the girls are making your mom's cookie recipe," Kylie answers, moving her body out of his path to the kitchen, the three adults entering to a sight that would bring smiles to anyones face.

But the sight only made Travis want to cry.

Because there was the love of his life, wearing his sweatshirt with his middle niece on her hip, the new tightness of the sweatshirt and little girl's leg accentuating the woman's baby bump.

How far along did she say she was again?

His oldest niece is beside them on a stool, scooping the cookie batter onto the pan of they all dance around to music.

It's so domestic, and it's something that he and she will have in their futures. If he can fix this.

"Wyatt, Elliotte, come with me to get ready for bed and Auntie will put the cookies in the oven. Daddy and I will even let you come back down to have cookies with Auntie and Uncle when they're done," Kylie promises, the little girls being helped down and hugging their aunts legs, doing the same to their uncles' on the way out of the room, chasing each other up the stairs.

"Jas, come on, give the two a minute," Kylie instructs, tugging on my brother-in-law's arms, a soft smile being shot my way as they leave the room.

And now it's just Trav and I, the man who's presence I hadn't noticed until Ky took the kids.

"Hi," Is the only greeting I can manage, tucking the cookies into the oven for the girls before wrapping my arms around myself.

"How did I not notice this before?" He asks in a response, feet carrying him in long strides over to me. His eyes are trained on my stomach the entire time, until his eyes catch mine, "May I?"

"Trav, you've touched everywhere on my body, I don't know why you're asking now," I mumble, but this just seems to insult him.

"We haven't talked in a week Baby, I don't deserve to touch you, prior or not," He whispers, and I can feel the tears coming to my eyes.

"You can," I approve, his hands meeting my stomach, rounding over his sweatshirt to see the true size of the bump.

"How have I not noticed you were growing our little bean in there?" His tears slipping down his face. "I'm so sorry for walking out. I didn't know how to process the information, but that was no excuse to just walk out. I should have celebrated you, I should have celebrated our baby. And instead I walk out for a fucking football game." He scoffs.

I hate that he's crying. Argument or not. He's apologizing and I just hate that he's upset.

Taking the pads of my thumbs, I rub the tears from his eyes, taking his hands from my sides and into my own.

"Actually, she's about the size of an artichoke these days," I correct, chuckling lightly in an attempt to soften the sadness. "And it's ok. I mean, it's not, it really tore me apart thinking you didn't want our baby, but I should have told you sooner. Just with practice and games and -"

"You're not allowed to apologize when I'm the one who did wrong, Baby," He interrupts, a bright smile breaking out on his lips as he pulls me closer to his body by my hips. "So we're having a little girl?"

"I'm convinced your family can't result in boys," Kylie's voice chimes from the doorway, her and Jason standing wrapped in each other's arms. "I mean, this is four for four on kids that is going to be a girl."

"Speaking of," Travis starts, looking between all of us, "Do the girls know?"

"We're having a baby cousin!!" Wy cheers, bursting into the room with Elliott hot on her tail.

"Does this whole family just eaves drop and bust in?" I can't help but question, because this is just wild.

"We do, you should be used to this Kid," Jason confirms, Wyatt and Elliott joining Trav and I in a little hug.

"You girls know about your little cousin?" Trav asks, smiling as he crouches next to the two.

Ellie just nods, but it's her sister who answers.

"Yeah, Daddy said it will make Grammy love you more."

"That's it, I'm calling Mom!"

#original character #the writing of spencer rose #nfl fanfiction #nfl football #travis kelce x oc #travis kelce #jason kelce #long term relationship

[its-pluto2]

A lot of people like to say radical feminists are white women and therefore white supremac*sts and whatnot. Have you not noticed that a lot of radical feminists aren't even white?

We're Mexican. We're Latin American. We're from India, from the Middle East, from Asia. We're from places where it is life and death to be a woman. Where we're targeted as criminals for protesting the injustice we live every day, where one late night might mean we won't return home, where our sex means a difference in how we're treated all our life in every aspect of it. Jobs, socializing, studies. Everything.

Take a look at Iran. At Mexico. At Korea. Do some research before you throw around words like white supremac*st and n*zi around like they mean nothing when you're talking about radical feminists, the women fighting and putting their lives on the line to stop all of this horrible, terrifying violence against us. Literally, google any of these countries next to the word "femicide" and open your eyes a little to the harsh truth (and I must warn you, if you do this, the results will be upsetting).

You guys like to tag radical feminism as this horrible trend that oppresses other movements when in reality, it's a handful of new, "progressive", "liberal" movements that are trying to demerit and oppress feminism and feminists, whether they're aware of it or not.

If your movement has to take away women's rights, you need to revise what it is you're fighting for and how you're doing it.

I am a radical feminist because I am tired of living in fear. I am tired of hearing in the news of another woman whose life was brutally ended simply because she was a woman.

We're not dying out here, we're being murdered. We're being discriminated, we're being denied safety and body autonomy and the right to choose over what happens to our bodies, we're unable to earn the same as a man for doing the same job, we're unable to express a strong character without being called manipulative or hysterical. We have so. much. bullshit to deal with simply because we are women.

And you still think our sole purpose is to target some random movement and some set of pronouns? No, honey, feminists, real feminists, have our priorities very clear.

What we don't like is that now, we have to be reduced to our organs and that we can't even freely call ourselves women because some people will be offended even by that. I cannot fathom how some people still don't realize the slap in the face that is calling women "uterus-havers" just to coddle other people. Use what pronouns you want, but don't take away women's right to call ourselves women - how absurd is that?! I can't call myself a women to not offend certain people!

Are you really telling me that, on top of having to deal with all of the risks that being a woman implies in my life, I have to not call myself a woman and instead use some odd, progressive term just so I don't offend you?

No. Enough is enough.

Women do not deserve to be silenced, on the verge of the year 2023, because other people with very specific needs and wants, want to be coddled by us. Fight for your rights, by all means, but don't try to take away ours just so you can feel better.

Get a grip on what feminism is, what it stands for, and understand that radical feminism only exists because movement after movement tries to crush everything we've fought for and everything we've achieved.

And, if you're a woman and claim to be libfem, or claim to hate feminism, or claim that feminism doesn't represent you, think again. You're only able to have access to a computer or a mobile platform to express your opinion, wear pants, and have access to basic education, among countless other privileges you take for granted, because of feminism.

I mean, come on. A woman wishing for another woman (e.g. "terfs") to be hurt and die? How awful do you have to be to wish that upon another woman? Who's the bad feminist in this scenario?

Women should support and help women before all else, because we're all each other has. You can coddle and favor men all you want, but heaven forbid, if you ever have to deal with sexual harassment, gender violence, anything related, those men you defend won't help you. They will blame you. The men who love women who hate feminism are the men who are most prone to causing harm to a woman for any reason, and you're coddling them by saying "Oh, feminism isn't about me! I believe in not all men! Death to radfems!!"

Think about that if you consider yourself "libfem" - it's a lie. It's a goddamn lie fabricated to coddle and submit to people who feel entitled to our social struggle, people who are so privileged already that they have to find problems and social causes and make up endless terms and pronouns and bullshit to justify it.

Nothing justifies you trying to silence feminism when, all over the world, no matter what country you look into, women are hunted and hurt simply because we are women.

Get that in your heads.

#radical feminism #feminism #radfem #libfems just dni ok #think about your own privilege #radblr #radfems are right #radfems please interact #radfem safe #libfems dni #social commentary

[f1letters]

maroon | cs55

"how the hell did we lose sight of us again? sobbing with your head in your hands, ain't that the way shit always ends?"

summary: they both knew their relationship would ruin them both, but they couldn't stop themselves from running back to each other every goddamn time

warning: angst, toxic relationship, mentions of a vicious cycle of breaking up and making up, right person wrong time, suggestive language, swearing, a bunch of references to older classic rock bands and albums (and CAS because they are my fav band of all time haha), open ending

pairing: carlos sainz x reader

word count: 4.3k

note: everything in bold are song references and in italic are thoughts, which includes memories from the past.

spanish words used: hermosa = beautiful; corazón = heart

hey everybody! honestly, this song is the one I've been looking forward to writing the most since the beginning... I worked so hard and I gave everything I had in me to this story (hence the story being the longest so far, something about writing for Carlos just makes me write so much more every time, haha), I couldn't be more proud of what I did! haha, hopefully, you guys love it as much as I do! happy holidays to everyone! 💜

masterlist

When the morning came

We were cleaning incense off your vinyl shelf

'Cause we lost track of time again

Laughing with my feet in your lap

Like you were my closest friend

Dozens of voices echoed through the crowded room, engaged in different conversations and dialogues.

The crowd seemed to have a life of its own. Old friends catching up on the latest news in their lives. New friends being made unexpectedly. The sharing of the latest gossip and rumours among the most curious souls. The sound of endless, genuine laughter through the halls.

In the middle of the glowing lights, the shiny clothes and the loud music, hidden in the shadows, there she was.

Y/N had escaped the huddled bodies until she found refuge in an empty room. With the door closed, the noise of the party was now muffled, leaving the girl alone with her thoughts as she searched through a vinyl shelf she found there.

Led Zeppelin. Pink Floyd. Radiohead. The Clash. Their owner had taste, she thought, fascinated by their timeless records. The young woman also appreciated these older classic albums, although she couldn't find many people like her.

With her hands roaming over the vinyl without much care for the party happening, Y/N nearly dropped a Nirvana album on the floor when the bedroom door burst open.

"Oh." The unknown man said, stopping in his track when he came face to face with her. "Sorry, but do I know you?"

"Hmm, I don't think so." The girl frowned in doubt. Her eyes widened as she realized she was clearly breaking into someone's room. "Oh my god, is this your room? It is, isn't it? What was I thinking going in like that-"

"Hey, don't worry! It's okay! I just wasn't expecting to see anyone in here." He chuckled softly, extending his hand to the girl. "I'm Carlos, and you are...?"

"Y/N, nice to meet you!" She shook his hand back. The girl could have sworn she felt a spark run through her veins as soon as she felt his touch.

"Hmm, sorry for going through your stuff. I- I'm a huge music lover and I- Just couldn't help myself." The girl continued, half choking up, half laughing at herself, lifting the album in her hand to show Carlos what she was doing.

"I don't mind." The driver responded, approaching her and taking the vinyl from her hold. The warm skin of his hand contrasted with her cool one, letting his touch linger. "So, are you a Nevermind fan?"

"More of a Bleach girl myself." Y/N said smugly, her eyes glazing over the boy's charming figure before returning to the shelf. "You have an incredible collection. I wish I had this many records."

"How'd we end up on the floor, anyway?" you say

"Your roommate's cheap-ass screw-top rosé, that's how"

I see you every day now

Hours passed, and both lost track of time as they talked about everything and anything. 

Y/N and Carlos were instantly attracted to each other, bonded not just by their shared love of music but by a soul connection neither could explain.

It was profound in ways that were beyond physical attraction, it had to be experienced to be truly understood.

Almost like their souls knew each other from the past.

The couple stood there, only a few hours after they met, sitting on the floor of his bedroom. They laughed with her feet in his lap, with a cheap-ass screw-top bottle of rosé beside them.

It was like an enchanting enigma how much they felt like each other's closest friends, like they had been part of each other's lives forever.

A Fleetwood Mac song was playing from Carlos's red vinyl record player when the woman spoke. "Isn't it crazy that I ended up at your house party and didn't even know who you were until you walked into this room?"

The two chuckled softly as their eyes locked and the driver's hand ran along the top of her thigh. "A bit maybe." He bit his bottom lip, a little unsure and nervous. Deciding to take risks that night, he continued. "But it was totally worth sneaking in here and skipping the party just to meet you."

Y/N could feel her cheeks heat up as they flushed. The girl tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and looked away from him to the floor.

"I don't know about you," Carlos again captured the attention of the girl beside him, approaching her little by little. "But I don't think I've ever felt this chemistry with anyone in my entire life, hermosa."

Driven by her impulsiveness and by the tension that hung in the air, the young woman made the first move and closed the space between them, letting her lips rest on his in a much-desired kiss. 

It started out soft and slow, their hearts beating faster and faster as the adrenaline grew. Y/N let her mouth open a little, and the driver took that as a sign to let his tongue swirl in her mouth. Her hands found their place among the brown locks of his wild hair, as he pulled her body towards him until she was on top of him.

Y/N was never one for one-night stands or sex on the first date, but that moment felt different for her. None of it felt sudden, ill-considered, or a mistake.

In fact, Y/N had never felt like anything was so right as pulling the Spaniard onto his bed mattress that night.

And I chose you

The one I was dancing with

In New York, no shoes

Looked up at the sky and it was

For the next six months, Y/N and Carlos were inseparable.

Their feelings for each other continued to grow stronger and stronger with every passing day. However, the two kept them secret from each other, hidden in the privacy of their own minds.

During those magical months since the night they'd met, they'd given themselves to each other, body and soul. But they both knew there was something more between them: something impossible to ignore, something special.

So special that the two feared they would ruin it by putting a title on their relationship.

They were… Friends with benefits, lovers, soulmates? All options were honest and sincere, but they were only attempts to escape the term "boyfriend and girlfriend".

Painting New York City white, snowflakes fell from the skies while shimmering under the lights like jewels bestowed by winter.

The couple could already see their destination, such was the way the girl's maroon apartment building stood out among the snow-covered sidewalks.

Carlos hugged her waist from behind, squeezing the girl's body and picking her up off the ground.

"Carlos, stop! You're going to drop me, you idiot!" Y/N squealed playfully, being immediately put down again in front of her door.

The driver placed a tender kiss on her forehead and then adjusted the black beanie that covered the top of her head. "I would never let you fall, corazón."

Except I already fell for you, she thought to herself, making her heart ache.

The two hurriedly climbed the building's stairs, eager to return to the warmth of her home. They had barely passed the front door when the two started taking off their cold and damp shoes in search of some relief from the discomfort in their feet.

The Cigarettes After Sex album that they were listening to before leaving her living room continued to echo through the walls of the apartment. Immediately, Carlos grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him, wrapping her shoulders with his arms as he started to sway their connected bodies gently to the music.

"What are you doing?" Y/N asked, caught off guard by the driver's movements.

"What do you think I'm doing?" Carlos asked playfully, running his hand through the young woman's long hair. "I'm dancing with you to your favourite band."

Just when she thought it wasn't possible for her feelings to grow any further, Carlos seemed to challenge her, proving her wrong all over again. Her heart could explode at any second with how much love for the Spaniard she kept in it.

"Carlos?" She asked in a whisper.

"Yes, hermosa?" He replied in the same tone.

"I'm so glad I chose you."

In the end, what mattered to them was seizing the moment before it was over, being happy with each other before the inevitable end came.

Both Y/N and Carlos couldn't help sensing that they were doomed to end sooner or later.

The burgundy on my t-shirt

When you splashed your wine into me

And how the blood rushed into my cheeks

So scarlet, it was

Eventually, the first signs of the end of their honeymoon phase began to appear.

Their flaws seemed more noticeable, their patience thinner, and their problems more difficult to solve.

All of a sudden, the illusion that their relationship was perfect started to fade with time.

The two began to see themselves as opponents with their backs turned to each other instead of the hopelessly in love souls they were in the beginning.

On a random spring night, the two were getting ready for another one of their dates, in the privacy of his house, like they did so many times before.

The two naturally assumed their tasks without much dialogue at this point: Y/N was leaning over the stove as she finished cooking dinner for them, while Carlos was in the dining room setting the table.

After completing what he had to do, the driver went to the kitchen in search of a wine to serve with the pasta that his lover was preparing. He opened the pantry and took out his favourite red wine from one of the bottom shelves.

Carlos walked to one of the drawers, removing his corkscrew from it, and opened the bottle without knowing that Y/N was moving dangerously close to him. 

By accident, his sudden movement caused the bottle to splash onto the once-white t-shirt the young woman wore, now leaving a huge burgundy mark on it.

"Are you fucking serious?" Y/N complained, disgusted with the state of her outfit. "This t-shirt is new, Carlos. For fuck's sake, this stain is never coming off."

"Calm down, it's not like someone died. It's just a fucking t-shirt, Y/N." Carlos replied, in the same aggressive tone. "I'll buy you a new one. Don't let this night be ruined for something so small."

"You'll buy it?! You always think that your money solves everything, don't you?" The girl spat, starting her way to her room to change her clothes. "I just wish you would be careful for once in your life and not be so fucking clumsy."

"It's a piece of fabric, oh my God." Carlos followed her, not ready to give up. "Get over it!"

"You know what? Enjoy your dinner alone. I'm out of here."

And so their new routine began: they argued, they fucked, they made up, they repeated.

The rooms they'd once set on fire with their burning, sizzling passion were now left in ashes, burned by the flame that brought them back to each other's arms, time after time.

The mark they saw on my collarbone

The rust that grew between telephones

The lips I used to call home

So scarlet, it was maroon

Fight after fight, the two kept finding their way to each other every single time, like two individuals relapsing on their favourite addiction.

The young woman had been dragged by the Spaniard to another one of his races, though as a very discreet and unknown guest.

Nobody knew her in that world, not even his closest colleagues, and Y/N couldn't help but feel hurt by all of Carlos' secrecy.

Okay, they weren't together-together, but the fact that she wasn't even mentioned to his best friends still seemed like a red flag to her.

Y/N had managed to escape to his room without anyone noticing, coming face to face with the shirtless figure with his back to her.

"Hey, handsome." The girl approached him, placing her hands on his chest as she leaned against his naked back.

"Corazón, you are here." The driver turned towards her, placing a kiss on her lips and down along the side of her neck. "I missed you so much. These weeks without you have driven me crazy."

"Hmm... Were you missing me or having me?" Y/N questioned, trying to pretend to be unaffected by the way his mouth sucked on her collarbone so sensually.

The boy turned his eyes to her gaze and cupped her face gently in his hands. "You, hermosa. You."

Their moment was interrupted by a member of Ferrari knocking on the door, warning Carlos that he would have to prepare for the driver's parade. Both of them slipped from his room and the motorhome, coming across two other drivers she recognized from watching other races.

"Well, well, well," Lando announced, messing with Carlos and his mystery companion. "What do we have here? Sainz, you don't even introduce your 'friend' here to your boys"

"Pfff, friend." The Spaniard's teammate, Charles, replied, also joking. "At least her fresh hickey tells me otherwise."

The girl immediately looked down at the neckline of her shirt, where she noticed the love bite near her neck.

And when her gaze rested on her lover's annoyed face, she realized how unhappy he was that they got caught.

When the silence came

We were shaking, blind and hazy

How the hell did we lose sight of us again?

Sobbing with your head in your hands

Ain't that the way shit always ends?

"Since this muppet here doesn't want to introduce us, I'll do the honours. I'm Lando, this is Charles." The McLaren driver said, pointing to his Ferrari friend, followed by his outstretched hand towards the girl.

"Nice to meet you both, I'm Y/N." She greeted the British, and then the Monegasque.

"So why are you hiding your beautiful girlfriend from us, Sainz?" Charles asked curiously.

"She's not my girlfriend, I have to go." Carlos replied, turning away and leaving behind two shocked friends, a hurt girl and her heart broken into little pieces.

After hearing a thousand apologies from the two nice guys for meddling in matters that weren't theirs, Y/N decided to walk to the exit of the circuit and skip the race altogether.

Hours passed and only silence came to her hotel room, with no sign of Carlos.

The girl sat on the floor, back against the bed covered with a maroon duvet, shaking, blind and hazy, until he eventually appeared.

How the hell did we lose sight of us again, she thought to herself over and over again.

The driver entered the room, shoulders slumped in regret, expecting to find an upset Y/N he had to apologize to.

Never did he expect to find the girl he loved sobbing with her head in her hands.

Carlos knelt down in front of the young woman, placing his hands on her knees, which provoked her to look at him with eyes smudged with mascara.

"Sorry, hermosa." The boy apologized, letting his forehead rest against her knee.

"Sorry for what, Carlos?" Y/N asked, determined to get the truth out of him.

"I shouldn't have turned away and left you alone with Lando and Charles." The Spaniard confessed. "I understand that you didn't see the race, but it's done now, you don't need to be like that..."

"The discussion is over, yes." The girl spoke, getting up from the floor and looking at the image of him still kneeling. "But us, this, whatever it is, that is over too."

"Stop, Y/N!" The driver also got to his feet, trying to stop her from leaving. "This is just another argument. We always come back to each other, that's the way shit always ends."

The woman released her wrist from his hold, opened the door and glanced at him over her shoulder before walking away.

"Not this time."

You were standing hollow-eyed in the hallway

Carnations you had thought were roses, that's us

I feel you, no matter what

The rubies that I gave up

A day passed. Then two days. Three days.

On the fourth day, the doorbell to her New York apartment rang and her heart just knew that he was going to be the person behind the door.

Y/N opened the entrance to her house and there he was as expected: Carlos, standing there, hollow-eyed in the hallway, flowers in hand.

"Before you interrupt me, I beg you: please, listen to what I have to say. Then you can send me away if you want and I'll go." Carlos begged her, his hands gripping the red flowers more tightly. "I love you. I'm sorry I came to that conclusion so late but I do, I love you. So much my chest hurts whenever I'm not with you. And I know I've been an asshole to you, especially on this last race, and I know I don't deserve you but I'm not ready to give up on you, on us."

The young woman remained silent, listening to the words she'd been waiting to hear all these months.

But they were too late.

"These roses are for you, corazón. I know they are your favourite flowers." The driver held the flowers out to her.

"Carnations," Y/N replied, leaving the Spaniard more confused than ever. "These are carnations, not roses."

The two kept their eyes together until a tear ran down the girl's eyes. And both of them knew.

"I'm sorry, Carlos, but you should leave." Y/N sobbed. "I loved you all this time but I had enough."

And I lost you

The one I was dancing with

In New York, no shoes

Looked up at the sky and it was

Maroon

It took six months for them to end their perfect, magical honeymoon phase. 

Followed by another six months of endless fighting and pain inflicted on each other.

Perhaps in some poetic way, six months passed from Y/N losing him until they saw each other again.

Nothing hurt more than being away from the one person she loved more than anyone. Especially when she knew the passion and the love between them were still there.

She couldn't help feeling that they were two cursed souls destined to suffer for their love.

Without Carlos, even music seemed to sound different. 

Since the day she saw the boy walk out the door, her vinyl had remained exactly in the same place, gathering dust, as she didn't have the courage to listen to them again without being consumed by memories of them.

Trapped in her thoughts on yet another sleepless night, Y/N looked up at the sky and thought to herself: I can't die from a broken heart, but I can't help but feel like a part of me did that day.

The burgundy on my t-shirt

When you splashed your wine into me

And how the blood rushed into my cheeks

So scarlet, it was

Maroon

Tired of brooding over the excruciating time away from the driver, Y/N relented and agreed to leave the comfort of her home to go to a party for the first time in a long time.

Dressed to the nines, the girl found herself in a crowd in the middle of an unfamiliar house.

It was the same as always: old friends, new friends, gossip, rumours, laughter, shining lights, loud music.

The young woman simply couldn't enjoy that life as she did before. All she wanted was to go home, lay under the covers, with the fire burning on her fireplace... But the memories that place held of him began to feel like they were too much for her to bear.

Alcohol in her hand, as usual, Y/N escaped the noise to a random room in the house, much like the night she met Carlos. 

This time, the girl found herself in the middle of a guest room, with nothing more than a bed and some basic furniture, where she sat enjoying a sweet drink.

Mirroring that night even further, Y/N was stunned when the white bedroom door opened to let in the tanned, handsome boy who was consuming her head.

"Oh," Carlos said, unable to contain his feelings when he saw the woman again after so long. "Hey, I- I was just looking for the bathroom. I- I'm going to go."

"No, wait!" Unconsciously, Y/N stood up, grabbing the driver's wrist without giving it much thought until she felt the blood rush into her cheeks. "Sorry, I don't know what I'm doing. I just- I don't know... I miss you."

The Spaniard let her words sink in, all emotions on the surface. "Y/N... Please, don't do this. I don't know if I can survive another heartbreak."

"You're right, I'm sorry. Forget this ever happened." Y/N got ready to walk out the door until it was the boy's turn to grab her arm.

Carlos pulled her towards him, grabbing her face with both hands and pulling her into a so-desired kiss filled with longing, pain, and lust.

The mark they saw on my collarbone

The rust that grew between telephones

The lips I used to call home

So scarlet, it was maroon

His lips brushed hers, allowing him to inhale her breath and feel the warmth of her mouth, until he let his lips mash against hers in a rough, heated kiss.

She opened her mouth quickly, pushing her tongue past his teeth and meeting him in an electric and passionate battle. 

Both lay on the bed, her straddling his body like she did a million other times, her lips still glued to the ones she used to call home.

They both pull away, panting with their gazes focused on each other almost as if they were afraid the moment would suddenly be over.

"I still love you, hermosa." Carlos confessed, letting the words slip out. "There wasn't a day that I didn't think of you, or that I didn't want your body next to mine just like this."

For one more night, Y/N gave in to her most intimate desires and allowed herself to enjoy the feeling of belonging in the arms of the man she loved again, as she removed her dress and her lips returned to where they belonged - his.

And I wake with your memory over me

That's a real fucking legacy, legacy

And I wake with your memory over me

That's a real fucking legacy to leave

Such was the girl's amazement when hours later she woke up in the same bed, alone with only his memory over her.

The wrinkled sheets on the right side of the mattress were the only sign that the driver had been in that room the night before. 

Not a note, a discarded piece of clothing, a stray hair.

Just crumpled linens and the marks of his love smeared across her soft skin.

Once again, Y/N was left with only her regrets and her sorrows for being so weak and so naive to think this time would be different.

That was the legacy he left every time: his touch on her remained, as did his absence.

The burgundy on my t-shirt

When you splashed your wine into me

And how the blood rushed into my cheeks

So scarlet, it was maroon

Back at home, the girl went straight to her room, wanting nothing more than to get out of her dirty clothes from the night before. 

Her hands started their work of removing the dress, until she stopped in her tracks, naked in front of her bathroom mirror, when she saw the marks left by Carlos all over her for the first time.

She swallowed hard, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to fall, as she stepped into the shower.

The hot water ran through her hair, over her shoulders, and down her back, until loneliness overcame her and her eyes wept and wept away all the hurt she felt.

How could I have been stupid enough to fall again, she wondered.

After a few minutes of crying and showering, Y/N left the bathroom, towel wrapped around her body, and went to her dresser in search of an old t-shirt to wear.

Among the dozens of her neutral shirts, one stood out. It was scarlet, and it was his.

Without thinking twice, she grabbed the t-shirt and draped it over her body, ready to give in to the sadness. Her arms hugged her own torso, seeking physical comfort in a place where she was the only person left.

Or so she thought until she heard the familiar doorbell ring later that night.

The mark they saw on my collarbone

The rust that grew between telephones

The lips I used to call home

So scarlet, it was maroon

The only light on the dark street that night was the street light that lit up the star-crossed lovers ever so slightly.

There he was, standing outside of the door of her maroon building, red roses in hand this time, face pleading for forgiveness. 

Although their lives might not have fit together, they were just two broken souls who had found solace in each other's hearts, unwilling to give up on the greatest love they had ever known.

And just like that, pulled back into their vicious cycle, all she had consuming her mind was him all over again.

"Hey, corazón."

It was maroon

It was maroon

taglist: @dan3avocado @starxqt @roseinnej @spiidergirlsworld @ccloaned @hotpigeon22 @dr3lover @lovelytsunoda @primadonnasdream @luxebeautystyle @wallfloweriism @ilivefortheleague @gwynethhberdara @satellitelh @adavenus @audreyscodes @wifeoflucyboynton @th6ccnsp6cyy @classifiedsblog @flyingmushroomss @motylekrozi @claramllera @gabrielamaex @handsupforamiracle @pierre-gasssllyy @lorenaloveslewis

@idkiwantchocolatee @simpforsunwoo @kissatelier @xweirdxsceletton @micksmidnights @miniminescapist @inchidentwithmax @hopelesslyromantics-world @alwaysclassyeagle @indieclarke @capela-miranda @okokoksblog @pulpfixion @sins-only33 @sainzclerc @allisonxf1 @honethatty12

@amsofftrack @scuderiamh @junkiespromise @loudoperahumanoidpanda @honeyric3 @holy-macncheese-balls @ricciardosheart @pierreverstapkin @ravenqueen27 @majkaftorek @home-of-disaster @buendiabebeta @itgirlofnowhere @roses-of-eden @thewintersunset @rubychocolatechips

(taglist continues in the comments)

thank you to everyone that asked to be tagged! please let me know if you want to be added to the next stories! 💌

#f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #formula 1 imagine #f1 one shot #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #cs55 #f1letters #f1 x reader #f1 x taylor swift #f1 x midnights #Spotify #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz jr one shot #formula 1 one shot #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz jr fluff #cs55 x reader #carlos sainz angst #carlos sainz jr angst #carlos sainz fic #carlos sainz jr fic #f1 fic

[life-is-more-than-just-a-game]

Request: nsfw chishiya x female reader. A story where the reader tells or thinks about her dirtiest fantasys with chishiya how she wants a wild night with him or how he satisfies her (s*x, c*mming*,being h*rny, everything can be included)

♠️ "Haven't you ever wondered what it would be like to sleep with Chishiya?!" ♠️

A/N: It's really impressive how fast people are when it comes to requests. I mean, no complains, it's just ... wow! 😊

I haven't even posted much and still got contacted by others, giving their wishes, what they would like to read. I actually don't know if it's going to be what you imagined, but I still hope you'll like and enjoy it!

Thanks for your request in that case, my lovely anonymous! That means a lot to me, seriously. 🫶🏻✨

Characters: Chishiya

POV: fem!reader ; Smut!

Warnings: NSFW, please don't read if you don't feel comfortable with sexual content and when you are under 18 years old!

"Okay, I swore I'd never talk to anyone about this, but haven't you ever wondered what it would be like to sleep with Chishiya?"

Kuina and I are calmly walking through the ruined streets of Borderlands after completing a game, while we knock some dust off our respective bodies. I don't know why I'm suddenly blurting this out. It's probably because I've been thinking about it for far too long and I know that Kuina and Chishiya have been hanging out for far longer than I have.

"I mean, come on- as calm and collected as he always is. Sex with him would definitely be extremely … interesting. There's a saying where I think that would suit him pretty well- oh, my elbow is bleeding…" I pause for a moment to consider the wound as best I can. In the end, however, I just shrug my shoulders and remain unimpressed. It doesn't even hurt ... well, so far. "Anyway, there's a saying that I'm sure it describes him very good in bed."

"Are you really talking to me about how you think Chishiya is in bed?!"

"Why don't you hear me out?!" Kuina looks at me, stunned. It's funny how she faces me with those big eyes and that open mouth. I could just laugh, but I pull myself together because there is something I really need to get off my chest:

"Still waters are deep and dirty. Pretty sure sex with him is just like that!"

"What have I actually gotten myself into here …?" My counterpart grasps his forehead in bewilderment.

Believe me, I'd like to stop talking about it myself, but I just can't! And do you know why? Because this man simply drives me crazy. Really, I've wondered what it would be like to sleep with a lot of people at the beach. My thoughts were with Aguni. With Niragi. With some other guys I don't know by name. And no matter what I do, I always end up coming back to Chishiya, who not only creates chaos in my head- but also in my body.

No, not because I have sex with him. That would make things a lot easier, but because I lie in bed at night and start doing it to myself to my thoughts and fantasies with him. I'm lucky that I have a single room and rarely if ever have to share it with anyone else. If that wasn't the case, I would have a huge problem. I wouldn't be able to concentrate on the essentials in games of life and death because I'd be there as a horny, dripping waterfall. Just because I wouldn't be able to put my fingers inside my core, making myself feel good and satisfied. Pah, that's absurd, not gonna lie!

"That guy won't let me sleep peacefully either." Kuina immediately turns back to me before letting out a somewhat annoyed sigh and going on her way. But I don't let her shake me off that easily, which is why I follow her- and eventually just keep talking, whether she wants to hear it or not. I just need to talk about that and then I'll never tell anyone about my thoughts again. "Once I woke up in the middle of the night because I had a fucking orgasm in my sleep …"

"Wonderful." The sarcasm and disinterest of the woman next to me is hard to ignore, but somehow it annoys me a little that she has such a reaction.

A reaction that makes you think that dreaming about hot sex with a man you find attractive is the most normal thing in the world.

"In my sleep, Kuina!"

"All right, I got it, Y/N!" Suddenly she stops and just looks at me.

It's hard to tell what's going on inside her right now. The look on her face is somehow telling. Literally. Not just her face. It's also her posture and her tone of voice. On the one hand, she seems tense, but her verbal communication also gives me the feeling of passivity and inattention. In addition to such patterns, she also grins to herself and seems a little amused by my statements.

"Do you want to tell me what exactly you have in mind for him?" Have I piqued her interest after all? "Maybe … that you'll have sex in the pool while you're surrounded by other people who could catch you at any time? Or … are you perhaps more attracted to the idea of him fucking you in front of a mirror, where he makes sure you get a good view of him penetrating you again and again and again, sometime slower, sometime faster, sometime deeper and sometime softer or harder?"

"I wasn't prepared for that …" Honestly, the way she responds to your words leaves you speechless. "

"But if you ask like that-"

"Please tell me you don't-"

"The last time I masturbated myself to sleep, I thought about what it would be like if he fucked me that night in the hotel lobby." Silence. "I mean, everyone's lying in bed doing their own thing. The couch in the lobby is free, the lights are off, and we're having sex with each other…on the soft fabric of the couch." The silence gets louder. "We're standing in front of it. Making out with each other a little bit. Sticking our tongues down each other's throats, our hands roaming… over every part of the body you can reach." Shit, just the thought of it makes me horny again. "Then he kisses down my neck, I sigh and moan pleasurably to myself as he runs over my curves and tries to drive me crazy by biting my sensitive skin here and there and giving me a few lovely hickeys, to show everyone that I correspond solely to HIS territory…" Now the silence during the breaks is just embarrassing, but I still can't help but grin broadly and enthusiastically, already knowing how the story will continue. "And then we'll have a really good time on the sofa, with the risk of getting caught by someone because I can't control my moans while he plays with my clitoris… slides his fingers into me… licking my pussy with his tongue or penetrating me with the tip of his tongue to drive me completely crazy before driving his cock into my pussy and stimulating my most sensitive spot over and over again~." By now Kuina is making a pretty disgusted face, but if she doesn't interrupt me or even run away, my story can't be that bad, can it? "And if no one looks where the moans are coming from, then the next morning everyone will still know who did it so well for me because I will scream his name through the whole hotel. He fills me with his entire length and with his As he climaxes, his thrusts become more and more irregular and deeper because he wants to inject his sperm into me as deeply as possible…" I'm wet.

I notice how my panties are getting wetter and wetter. How I literally start to drip. It's extremely difficult for me to keep my eyes open because I'm just feeling so much sexual desire again. Again just because I'm thinking about Chishiya and what it would be like to feel him inside me. To be filled by him.

"Are you done now ... ?" Kuina asks after we've been silent for a little more than a minute after my last sentence. "Please, be done now!"

A simple "Yup" is the answer to everything before I bring up another "And now I have to find a toilet real quick". Just walking past my companion, who gave me an unexpected "Are ... you going to masturbate?" which I only responded with an approving “Coooorrect!” before she finally freed from me.

A/N: God, sometimes I was laughing so hard while writing this, I'm so sorry. 😂

#chishiya smut #alice in boderland x reader #chishiya shuntaro #alice in borderland #alice in borderland imagines #alice in borderland smut #chishiya x you #chishiya x reader smut #chishiya #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya imagine #chishiya x reader #aib chishiya #shuntaro chishiya x reader #shuntaro chishiya #aib x you #aib #nijiro murakami