#gender tf
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The demon stood at a monstrous 15 feet tall, more beastly than most with a bull like physique . Wielding an axe that was heavier than your average person with ease the minotaur led the battle against the angels. The Deadwoods were rife with combat.
The minotaur looked around, defeated angels all around him, and sighed at the lack of challenge. Then, the sound of a woman's laughter could be heard. Not the unsettling laughter of a psychopath, nor the smug chuckles of arrogance, it was a pure and gentle thing.
A young angel skips out of the forest into the clearing the minotaur was resting in. She couldn't have been much more than 5 feet tall and she smiled happily.
The minotaur quickly buries his axe where her head is... Or was, as she cartwheels out from the blindspot made by the axe.
"That wasn't very nice." She whines "we should at least greet each other first. I'm Joy what's your name?"
She flies up to the minotaur without fear. Pure white wings as opposed to the metallic wings most angels have, the incense her tail releases smells more floral than most. Her halo is a brilliant and blinding rainbow of colors.
The demon attempts to swat her away but she easily evades and hugs his chest.
"wow you're like totally soft."she says before letting go just in time to dodge another axe swing. She freefalls down to the ground, landing in a roll and hopping up to her feet right over the next axe swing.
The minotaur swings faster and faster, finally, a worthy foe. Except Joy never attacks. She simply dodges each swing, dancing around the axe that streaks through the air like lightning.
She cartwheels circles around the minotaur, laughing as though they were old friends. She cartwheels through his legs, under his loincloth, and gets a good look at a lot of the minotaur including his large sheath and massive balls.
She can't help but to reach out and touch it. As soon as she does the minotaur stops for a moment as intense pleasure floods his body. His equine cock starts to flare its head. It's already throbbing as the angel, who is mid handstand, rubs her foot along his half revealed cock.
Before his cock is fully erect it starts spurting out cum, the minotaur drops his axe from the unexpected pleasure. As the angel finishes her flourish just in time to get her face covered in cum.
She licks her cum covered lips before joking "that's a better greeting than the axe".
The minotaur's loincloth can't even hide his erect cock. It's bigger than her arm by a longshot, still dripping cum from the tip. He tries to grab the small angel but she easily evades his grasp, closing the distance between them.
"so soft and inviting." Joy states as she ducks under the demon's loincloth and buries her face in his balls. Her touch causes the minotaur to fall to his knees as another orgasm shakes his body. "It seems like you've never experienced this kinda joy you cute little moomoo. So sensitive that you're spurting everywhere."
The angel looks to the minotaur with a wide smile.
"should I give you true joy?" She says to the demon who's mind is fuzzy from the overwhelming pleasure. He nods gently, his hand fondling his balls.
She flies up to his face and kisses his forehead.
"now I know what to do" she exclaims. She hugs the demon's chest again. Her hands explore his furry chest before finding something cold and metallic. "Here they are"
Joy pulls on the two metal rings. The minotaur moans loudly as his cock throbs. It seems like muscle and height are changing to fat as the minotaur's shape softens up, their powerful pecs become soft tits. The thick fur becomes fluffy and smooth. She spurts out cum from an incredible pleasure, far greater than anything she's ever felt.
Milk drips from her large breasts as the angel suckles on her nipples.
"This is what you were meant to be." Joy says as she pets the cowgirl.
The thick heavy horns that weighed down her head fall to the ground. So many expectations, so much violence, so much sin. It all disappeared with this previously unimaginable joy. A warm golden light appears over the minotaur, a comfortable halo.
If you enjoy my stories please look into my Patreon. There's free stories if you don't have money and if you do choose to subscribe you get a 1k word story minimum plus access to all other premium stories.
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My girlfriend and me have fights all the time, I can’t understand women’s mind, can you help me with this situation?
A young man was walking along one of Southern California's sandy beaches with his surf board. He suddenly spots this bottle which has recently washed up on the beach. It's obvious it's been tossed around for a long time. He picks up the bottle and notices that it still has the cork intact. So, being curious as to what may be inside, he manages to get the cork out and out pops a Genie.
After expressing profound appreciation for having been let out of the bottle, the Genie grants his benefactor the classic, "one wish" and it will be yours. Being an avid surfer, it doesn't take him long to say, "I've always wanted to surf Hawaii, but I get seasick on ships and I'm afraid to fly. Would you build me a bridge to Hawaii?"
The Genie replies: "Do you know what you are asking for? Do you know how long the bridge would have to be? Think of the enormous challenges for that kind of undertaking. The supports required to reach the bottom of the Pacific! The concrete and steel it would take! It will nearly exhaust several natural resources. And the maintenance of that bridge! No, think of another wish."
The man said OK and tried to think of a really good wish. Finally, he said, "I've been married and divorced four times. My wives always said that I don't care and that I'm insensitive. So, I wish that I could understand women ... know how they feel inside and what they're thinking when they give me the silent treatment ... know why they're crying, know what they really want when they say nothing ... know how to make them truly happy ... I really want to understand women and how they think!"
After a long sigh, the Genie responds: "Would you like that bridge with two lanes or four?"
Well, the joke is ancient. But appropriate. But seriously, there is a possibility to make you a bitch. But ask @wishmaster about that. I love his gender transformations! But until then, I can make you a little bit gayer and your girlfriend a little bit more manly.
You still don't have much to say in the relationship. But you are a great couple and you understand each other without words. Enjoy it!
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Constitution (Jawbone O'Shaughnessey TF/TG/PMC/AP)
(Original Date of Upload: June 22, 2022)
Yeah, I'm dedicating some uploads this week to the hot dads out there.
I shall preface this by saying I love Jawbone very much and no amount of words can express how intense that love is. He's a werewolf, he's a dad, he's a school counselor, he's a dad, he's got a sick Irish accent, I can go on and on but if I did I'd hit the word limit of this description (if there even is a word limit, anyway). The general summarization of things is hot werewolf dad. Three words that I absolutely wish could be said more nowadays...
This is also my first FtM TF in a while! I tried something a little new to this one too, based on a few personal headcanons and the fact that I want to try some new stuff in these TFs of mine!
Also I hope someone gets the joke I made in the story title. If not, then I guess I'll just give ya the answer if you choose to ask-
Ashleigh had never been the most hard on herself when it came to grades, but something about getting a C- on her most recent Introduction to Psychology test struck a nerve. There were perhaps a lot of reasons as to why she got such a low score. The trouble she was having focusing on classes these past few weeks, the sheer amount of information overload she seems to get when she does focus, the fact that cramming the night before had resulted in frustrated confusion over the material. She was trying her best, but it felt like her best wasn’t good enough.
And that was only one brick in the wall that was her many problems.
The past few weeks have been the arrival of many issues and hardships in her life. Finances were becoming harder to manage, mainly due to the fact that even one month’s rent at the dormitory was enough to slash a hole in her budget with very little hope of getting it back on just minimum wage alone. The balance between working at a nearby retail store and trying to keep up with college also wasn’t helping in that matter, with her focus being challenged even there.
Her own identity was becoming something that was harder to understand. Especially when it comes to her own gender, as she’s been trying to grasp onto whether or not she was trans. Trying to test the waters on that was also impossible in her current situation, which was reinforcing a budding feeling of gender dysphoria.
Many of her friends were already busy with their own lives. She was in no place for a relationship. Her mind was effectively a vortex of confusion and information that she felt unable to piece together.
To say college was getting a little overwhelming to Ashleigh at this point would be an understatement.
What was funny was, she thought she was ready. At first college wasn’t in the cards for her when she had first graduated high school with her being in a low income home, and the fact that applying to scholarships felt impossible to her due to their high standards. It took a little more than ten years for her to get in a spot of perceived readiness.
Belief that she finally had the income to do so, a feeling that now was the time to move out of her parent’s home and into someplace else, a full grasp on who and what she was.
That view of herself and the world was shattered in weeks.
She probably could have caught onto that when she first applied. First seeing the amount rent cost at her college. The amount of time it took for her to even decide on a major she had wanted. Choosing a Psychology major had made her feel worse as the weeks went on, since she would find herself thinking on how she thought she could help people if she couldn’t even solve her own problems.
It got to a point that after seeing that her grades had been falling, one of her professors had recommended she speak with the college’s guidance counselor. Although he seemed to have trouble remembering the counselor’s name. It resulted in her having trouble finding their office, except it seemed that no staff in the college could recall who the counselor was. Only the fact that there was one.
Except there wasn’t???
Just an empty office with a scrubbed name placard.
That was effectively Ashleigh’s breaking point.
The next logical stop for her was to head to a bar nearest to her college and pour her woes to the bartender. Which is where Ashleigh finds herself now, downing a small pint of alcohol at a bar that was also within a nightclub. It was her fourth one and she was already tipsy. She had also just finished retelling her life’s story to the bartender, a bear of a man named Maurice.
Ashleigh let out a little hiccup, then tipsily giggled. “Usually I wouldn’t turn to alcohol to run from all my problems, but damn is this some good booze…”
Maurice just hummed. “Migh’ have to cut ya’ off at sum poin’. Can’t have ya’ dyin’ of alc’hol poisonin’.”
“It’s fine! My family’s been known for having good livers…” She drunkenly laughed again.
“Uh-huh.” Maurice said, unphased. He was used to that kind of response from the more… sadder patrons to his bar. It took a few moments of thought, but he found himself picking up another pint glass from beneath the counter. “Ah can safely say none of yer problems’ll be solved ‘ike this.”
Ashleigh shook her head. “It still makes my head all fuzzy though… makes me forget how shit my life is.”
“Ah wouldn’ say that,” Maurice tried to reassure her as he headed to the back of the bar. The back was lined with multiple kegs, most of which Ashleigh had assumed was filled with liquor. “This could jus’ be a ruff patch.”
“It doesn’t feel like it…” Ashleigh said, folding her hands onto the table and placing her head in them. Everything felt like one hell of a trainwreck. Problem after problem, piling up and causing a storm in her head. The fact she didn’t really have any to talk to about it made it all the more worse. At least Maurice was willing to listen, although he didn’t provide much help besides the provision of booze. He’s probably paid to just sit around and listen, she thought to herself.
Her eyes drifted over to the man himself, and Ashleigh watched as the man walked around the bar pouring various liquids from the kegs into the pint glass. She could hear him mumble something, but the music of the night club coupled with the low register of his voice made it incomprehensible to her. She did take note that the drink looked particularly… sparkly.
“Ah’ve been in th’s line of w’rk fer a while, bud. It nev’r lasts like that fer long. No matt’r how much ya think it does.”
Ashleigh looked away for a moment. She couldn’t tell if it was the booze, or just her recently budding cynicism, but she found herself having a hard time believing that.
She was pulled out her thoughts by Maurice walking up to her, sliding the drink he just made beside her arm. “Here, on th’ house.”
Ashleigh lifted her head and looked around the bar skeptically. Come to think of it, she’s the only person here at the moment… Eh, whatever.
She then took a look down at the pint. It wasn’t beer, liquor, wine, or any mixture that she could recall, although memory recall was a little muddled due to her current buzz. The drink was actually a soft, but sparkly, beige. It smelled kind of fruity too…
“Ah call it th’ Reliever! It may help ya’ find what yer lookin’ fer.”
Ashleigh raised a brow and smiled. “Are you sure you ain’t trying to roofie me?” she joked. Judging by the grimace on Maurice’s face, it wasn’t very funny.
“I happ’n to want to keep mah job.”
“Right, sorry.”
Ashleigh stared back down at the drink and shrugged. Taking hold of the glass, she downed the uncreatively named drink in one fell swoop.
“Hm. Tastes peachy. What’s in this?”
Maurice only smirked. “Nothin’ ya’ could und’rstand, boy.”
Something about being called ‘boy’ made Ashleigh feel something… warm.
“Now ah’m afraid I gotta have to cut ya’ off.”
Ashleigh slumped in her seat. “Alright, fine. Thanks for the new drink, I guess…”
“On’y the best fer my cust’mers. Hope it does help ya’ in what yer lookin’ fer.”
“I have a little trouble believing one fruit flavored drink is going to give me the answer to my problems, but I… appreciate it.”
Maurice nodded and watched as Ashleigh got up from her seat and walked out the bar. He took note of her slightly disoriented walking and wondered if he should have offered to drive her home.
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The door to Ashleigh’s dorm creaked open, with the woman clumsily walking in after. Walking home while drunk is apparently not the best thing to do. Perhaps she should’ve taken that bartender’s offer to take her back here, but she felt perfectly content walking home by herself. It even allowed her to take a good look at the Moon, which she had found herself feeling oddly pulled towards during those ten minutes of walking.
Ashleigh took a seat on the small, singular sofa that was on the side of her little apartment. It was nestled in the corner, beside her work area and window. The seat had given her the perfect look at the moon again, the celestial object now currently in waxing crescent phase. How she knew that she wasn’t sure.
Ashleigh let out another hiccup. “Houh, still a little drunk…”
She pressed her back up against the chair and closed her eyes, her only thoughts now being of that weird fruity drink, that bar, and that bartender. It did feel nice to vent all of her feelings out to him, even if he wasn’t very professionally trained. And admittedly he might be right about all of this bad stuff just being a ‘for the time being’ thing. Plus, now that she was relaxed and had the time to think about it, Maurice did look kind of hot. Well, in a scruffy middle-aged man kind of way.
Okay, weird to think about… she thought to herself. She did kind of envy him, though. Big, hairy guy; deep voice; slightly confusing accent. She… wanted all of that. Especially that hairiness. God, that man is quite the bear…
She let out a small sigh. What time was it? It was probably pretty late. She should probably head to sleep.
…although for some reason she felt really itchy now…
It was miniscule at first with it being a slight discomfort in her hands, arms, and chest. It was something she would try and scratch, the woman shifting her body around the couch uncomfortably as she tried to reach every spot she could to relieve herself of this ordeal. It wasn't until she started feeling something coarse that she started to notice something was off.
Taking a hand out from beneath her shirt, she found that it was hairier. Brown hairs were growing out of it at a rapid pace and quickly overtaking it in a thick, fluffy pelt. Curious, Ashleigh turned her hand around to see if a similar change was occurring on her palms. While fur was growing around her palms, the skin was also swelling; roughening and darkening into a paw pad. Alongside this came changes to her nails, the keratin lengthening and sharpening into pointed claws. She could even swear that her hand was subtly growing larger.
Ashleigh raised a brow, a mix of intrigue and confusion forming on her face. She lifted up her other hand to check if it was any different, finding the exact same changes have come across it too. A large, wolfish paw instead of a small, human hand.
"...cccool…" she slurred out drunkenly. Perhaps it was the fact the alcohol was still working through her system, but she didn't feel particularly worried about this. She rubbed a paw on her cheek, feeling the fluffy fur and rough pads brush up against her skin. It was great. Her body was still kind of itchy though…
Placing her paw down, she rolled up a sleeve of her hoodie, along with the sleeve of the shirt beneath it, to try and scratch her arm again. This time she was being a little lighter so as to not scratch herself with her new claws. Her skin looked to already be growing out more hair, but it appeared that irritating it was causing the changes to pick up the pace.
The patches of fur grew denser with each passing second, her skin now fading beneath the brown pelage. A feeling of power coursed through her muscles causing her arms to gain a little more muscle tone than they had before. It wasn’t an impressive amount, plus it was shrouded beneath all of her fur, but it was there. This was then accompanied by a brief lengthening of her arms.
There was a feeling of contentment filling her as she watched everything unfold; a feeling that, for once, wasn't influenced by the booze from earlier. It was like something deep inside her was coming out, something that she so deeply wanted.
The fur growth eventually ran up her arms and beneath her rolled up sleeves, but judging by the slight tightness she felt in her shoulders (a byproduct of her thickening delts), alongside the feeling of warmth layering upon them, she knew where the changes were heading.
She leaned forward and placed a paw beneath her shirt, proceeding to scratch away at her chest while feeling the brown fluff growing out of it. With her shoulders becoming larger, her frame had widened to match. While the fur trickled down her chest like a rushing waterfall, her torso flattened and her breasts shrunk away, and all that remained were some pectorals with a small layer of fat covering them. For a moment a horizontal scar visibly formed beneath each pec, but both got shrouded beneath the sea of fur just moments later.
The intense itching began to dissipate as the pelt washed over her belly. Beneath it grew more small muscles, but those muscles quickly got drowned out by a medium sized gut. She found her hand slipping down towards it, unconsciously giving it a little rub and causing her tongue to fall out of her mouth for a moment.
“This is… oddly appealing…” she whispered to herself. It took her a moment for her brain to register that her voice shifted at the end of that sentence, her voice now a little deeper and huskier.
The fur eventually flowed down to the lower half of her body. Her hips widened before a feeling of pressure started to fill at the base of her spine. Scooting up in the chair a little, something about her reaction felt almost instinctual. So much so that she lowered the back of her pants a little.
“Forgot to wear the tail safe ones, huh…” she offhandedly mumbled to herself. Her voice was just getting deeper and deeper. Plus she could swear there was an accent getting in there…
Slinking out from her rear came a tail; one that was big and fluffy with rich brown fur that had a lighter shade of it on the bottom. As her tail grew, her spine grew with it making her taller than she was before.
Somehow knowing exactly how to maneuver it, she moved the tail to her lap before scooting back up to the back of the chair. Smiling, she softly stroked the long, furry extension of herself. It was already becoming evident that she was transforming into some sort of wolf creature. Fur, paws, weird enjoyment of having her tummy rubbed. The tail was just another addition to this experience, and Ashleigh was all for it.
She had to take into consideration other changes though. Her now flat chest, her deepening and clearly masculine voice, even in her mind she didn’t feel like a ‘her’. It was clear that this was some kind of sign, some kind of fulfillment of an internal wish.
It’s about time he starts referring to himself as something he was comfortable with.
As revelations came to his mind, his legs and feet underwent their changes. Mirroring his arms, his legs got thicker in both fur and muscle while concurrently growing longer. He didn’t really shave them much before, but that would be a null thought now that they were completely covered in a pelt of wolf fur. The same happened to his feet, the two now becoming large paws like his hands. Claws, paw pads, everything. Although unlike the rest of his clothing, his shoes were getting particularly uncomfortable…
He leaned his head back up against the sofa and closed his eyes. “Yer really gettin’ everything ya wanted…” An ear twitched as he instantly noticed that an accent had crept into his already deep voice. It was a little hard to tell, with it being deep in the guttural huskiness that werewolves had, but it was definitely an Irish accent. “I’m even gettin’ an accent too!”
He smiled, although now his face was now starting to feel different. This was caused by a lengthening muzzle, his face now pushing out into a more animalistic shape. Nose melding with his snout; the skin of it becoming rough, black, and wet. Shorter brown hairs pricked out of his skin and ran all the way across his face, his eyebrows getting bushier in the process. Within his mouth his teeth sharpened and two of his canines poked out from beneath his upper lip. His ears twitched again as they lengthened to a point, soft fur rolling across the outside while even softer fur poked out from the inside.
Then came the changes in his hair. Previously a rusty auburn color; long, wavy locks shortened on scalp while longer bits of fur protruded from the edges of his head and the bottom of his neck. Growing out of his head from all sides was a long, fluffy mane, the red coloration of the hair fading beneath it to become a dark, chocolatey brown as it did so.
The wolfman closed his eyes and drew in a breath, his vocal cords rumbling with a content growl. He felt at peace for the first time in weeks. That bartender was right, that drink did help him find what he was looking for. At least in one aspect, anyway.
He eventually drifted off to sleep, smiling and unafraid of what would happen on the morrow. And in his sleep the world would shift around him…
The small dorm room expanded; twisting and warping into a small, comfy home. The overall location switched to someplace near the edge of the campus.
His clothes had also shifted. The hem of his hoodie lengthened, sleeves unfurling and settling over his arms. The material shifted from cotton to wool, the color dulling to a comforting gray as it did so. Buttons lined one of the ends of the split while the hood retracted and flattened into a nice shawl collar. Gone was a hoodie, now warped into a comfortable wool cardigan.
The undershirt he wore beneath the hoodie altered alongside it. The sleeves shortened to make it a t-shirt, the color darkened to black. Emblazoning on the shirt was a simple hexagon with triangular eyes, four rectangles beneath it that emulated teeth, and a line that floated around the top four sides of the hexagon; triangles poking out of it to replicate ears.
His pants were next with the portions below the knees magically tearing apart before stopping a little above his knee. The edges remained frayed, and the material shifted into a blue denim. A hole formed beneath the belt loop on the back, and the jeans appeared to phase through his tail in order to comfortably fit it in there. Once his tail was in, the changes to his pants were complete.
His shoes underwent more subtle shifts, having only grown in size to alleviate the discomfort while the leather deepened in color to a dark red lined with white around the sides, soles, and straps.
Deep in his sleep, the wolfman dreamed. Dreamed of a new life for himself, all of his goals fulfilled and him now helping others do the same. Dreamed of the perfect identity for himself. And dreamed of the happiest thoughts he could. With these dreams came a new name for himself…
He was now Jawbone O’Shaughnessey, and these dreams would soon be revealed to be more than just mental conjurings…
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Jawbone woke up with a start, in part thanks to the alarm clock he didn’t remember setting. He walked over to it to shut it off, quickly finding out that his vision was a lot blurrier than he recalled. He instinctively pawed the top of the dresser his alarm clock was on for a few moments, then grasped onto something.
His glasses.
“Heh, that’s new…”
Placing his glasses on his muzzle, he began to think. Come to think of it, a lot was new…
As he got up from the sofa he took a nice glance of the room he was in. Instead of a small dormitory room, it was a medium sized bedroom. It retained a fairly similar layout to his old dorm room, but with the new space came bookshelves lining the shelves (containing the many books he’s read over the years) and a few picture frames hanging from the walls (all of which had assorted images of him with students he remembered counseling).
A warmth filled his chest while he stared at the various images. All of these were of him, and they were all of the people he’s… helped…
Faces, names, voices, memories, so much flashing in his head at the sight of these pictures. It filled Jawbone with a euphoria that feels like it’s been felt a thousand times before.
“I guess those weren’t just dreams, then...”
The rest of the morning was spent preparing himself for the day and checking out what else seemed to change. Jawbone was a little surprised to find that he wasn’t in his dorms anymore, and was instead in a fully paid for house! Along with that, all of his credentials seemed to have changed to fit his new reality, and judging by his new memories he was now employed as the guidance counselor at his old college. Things had truly changed for the better!
However, he was truly able to settle into his identity at college. The students smiled as he walked past them, greeting him and giving him high-fives. He was seen as one of the most chill, kindest, helpful people in the college by-far. People entered his office to ask for help in both academic, social, and personal matters, and Jawbone seemed to have the right answer for everything.
There were times he was alone in his office waiting for a student to walk in, the man given a small moment's time to look around and think about the life he was now in. He’d pull up foreign memories, strange and crazy tales from his past, sifting through his mind to better grasp who he was now. This is his life after all, he’d like to know everything it had to offer.
The day would go on as all days would go. Helping students; chilling in his office; doing some miscellaneous paperwork. Every so often he’d stare at the nameplate on his desk and drift into happy thoughts, a feeling of reassurance of who he is settling further within him. He even started to feel like this had always been his life even if that wasn’t exactly the case. But semantics were pointless in the end because this is his life!
Eventually everything for the day would be said and done, and Jawbone would get off work with a smile. Another day fulfilled for the carewolf!
At first he had thought about driving back home and finishing up what paperwork he had left, but a thought had entered his mind while he turned the ignition.
After a minute of driving through the city streets, Jawbone’s ears perked up as he heard the music of his destination. The Oreum Sirius Nightclub: the exact place he had been the day before.
He winced as he stepped into the doors of the place. The music was a little too loud for his werewolf ears, but he would get used to it like he did back at the Black Pit. Plus his real goal was far enough from the club portion that it wouldn’t be too much of a nuisance.
His eyes drifted to the man tending to the bar. The burly guy cleaning a shot glass while looking out at the club’s crowd, awaiting a customer. The one and only Maurice.
Jawbone walked up to the bar, a coy smile on his muzzle, and let out a low growl to grab the bartender’s attention. “Yer quite the bear of a man, aren’t’cha?”
Maurice seemed a little startled about the appearance of a werewolf (something was telling Jawbone that lycanthropy wasn’t very common around these parts), but quickly regained composure in order to respond. “Flatt’ry ain’t gonna get ya’ anything free.”
“I think I already got somethin’ free yesterday…”
The sight of the bartender’s eyes was enough to prove to Jawbone that he got the guy.
“Wait- yer- woah…”
Jawbone’s smile widened even more at that reaction. The wolfman stared into Maurice’s eyes, causing the bartender to blush a little.
“I don’t know what you gave me, but it did exactly what you said it would!”
Maurice just nodded, although Jawbone could hear the man mutter something along the lines of ‘usually they never stay in this world’ under his breath. Jawbone chose not to question it though.
Jawbone placed an arm on the table and leaned over to Maurice. “How ‘bout I buy us both a drink, and we can get to know each other a little bit more…”
Maurice’s enter face flushed, the man beginning to stammer. “R-right! Ah-Ah’ll get us a menu soo we can… ord’r somethin’.”
This was going to be one hell of a night!
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Gender Weirdness in (my) Faerun
in my stories queer folk are common, and accepted to the point of being unremarkable. there are a myriad of ways that you alter your physical characteristics, organs, and presentation.
Magical:
the easiest answer here would be the 3rd level spell Tenser's Shifting Gender (or something). this would be the bog standard change your gender spell. looking beyond that, and far more accessible is the Mold Flesh cantrip. able to be cast by middling spellcasters and hedge witches, this is far more common in villages and other minor settlements. the minor nature of a cantrip requires the caster to cast it repeatedly through touch. skilled fleshcrafters must be artists with kean eyes and high stamina.
Divine:
Clerics of Morphitas the god of change can channel divinity to shift their own bodies to their true self. this works on a minor level for people around the cleric as well.
Alchemical:
Many common magical herbs can produce a wort that has feminizing masculinizing or androgyninizing effects depending on the herb. for example a decoction of black toadstool and goblinsbreath will masculinize the imbiber(?) if taken on the full moon over a year. a poultice of celestial lilac and nettelmoss can remove body hair/facial hair permanantly.
compounds to alter the body can be synthesized from monster parts as well. take the humble troll. its regenerative property can be distilled into a potion that can induce tissue growth or a salve to induce hair growth.
From this point things are going to get less than wholesome
TW: Transformation, Noncon TF, gender loss?
Fiendish:
Cultists of Slaan'ish sacrifice their gender for power. the cultists describe it as "quite nice actually". Warlocks of Slaan'isk gain power through transformation, becoming unrecognizable and inhuman as they gain power. Powerful warlocks of Slaan'isk can cast a ritual sacrificing others genders to cast Summon Fiend. the more genders you sacrifice the higher the level of the summon. a plot in water deep led to hundreds of people losing their genders and the summoning of a gehreloth. *hijinx* ensued and a party of adventurers defeated the fiend and developed a cure to restore peoples lost gender.
Curses:
The cursed weapons of Nariel whispers in its users ear. slowly encouraging the user to get attached to the spear, and then twisting the users preferred presentation. the cursed will not accept that they are normal and have always been this way. Remove Curse removes this effect.
Gender Lycanthropy:
among the myriad presentations of the Lycanthropy virus there are those that change the users gender. sexy horny genderbent werewolves? yea we got em.
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MROOH? [c]
Man that milk tasted weird.
finished YCH for Bladetyphoon for linkthehero5555 on FA!
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Fight
Pairing: Ghost x Reader, Price x Reader, Soap x Reader, Gaz x Reader
Summary: Your child gets in trouble
a/n: This one is a little different from my usual ones, but I just felt like writing for all four of them. I'm not sure how accurate you'll all find them as I've deliberately exaggerated them, but I do believe that Gaz is a sassy man after seeing how he didn't want to shake Graves' hand. I've also named the children of the TF141, I hope that's okay with you all.
Scenario:
The moment you both heard that your child got in trouble, the first thing you two did was rush into the principal's office in fear that something happened.
And now you were both sitting in the principal's office with your child, while another child was there with his parents.
Ghost:
Your eyes widened as you heard the principal say that Daisy and another girl in her class had gotten into a physical fight.
"There was also something your daughter said that is completely unacceptable," Mr. Smith said, looking disappointed at Daisy, even though the girl apparently started the fight and your daughter was just defending herself.
"It wasn't even that bad..." Daisy muttered underneath her breath as she crossed her arms.
Simon was very quiet, but his stoic expression spoke for itself.
"Daisy, I want you to quote what you said," Mr. Smith continued, not wanting to hear another word from her unless she quoted exactly what she said to the girl.
Your daughter looked at you, a pleading look on her face but you just shook your head at her in disappointment, wanting to hear what she said.
She sighed and quoted what she had said before, "You have a face that only a mother could love."
Without missing a single beat, Simon started wheezing in his seat the moment he heard his daughter's insult to the girl.
You glared at him, "Simon!"
Trying to calm down, he put his palm on his mouth as he continued, completely ignoring the angry looks of the principal and the other family.
"Mr. Riley, I want you to calm down. This is highly inappropriate," Mr. Smith said as Simon calmed down.
A few seconds of silence passed between you all before your beloved husband opened his mouth.
"Did you win?"
"Simon!?"
Price:
It felt like hours as the girl's parents and the girl herself ranted and raved about the fact that your daughter Sophie punched her.
At first you had both been shocked, completely angry at your daughter until the parents opened their mouths to speak.
You almost fell asleep listening to the mother go on and on about how her daughter's nose was bleeding because of Sophie.
Price, on the other hand, sat still in his seat, listening to the whole thing, not having said a word since he walked into the principal's office.
"Your daughter should be suspended!" The father said, glaring at Sophie.
Mr. Smith didn't even get a single chance to say anything, as they continued.
Slowly, Price seemed to lose his patience and turned his head towards you and your daughter.
He whispered, "Punch her harder next time."
"What?" The principal asks.
"Nothing."
Price says as Sophie giggles at her dad.
You tried to stifle your grin by putting a hand over your mouth, just hoping that the parents would shut up soon.
Soap:
Your son sat between the two of you, his nose bleeding and his face bruised as he frowned at the boy and his parents.
You were extremely worried as you put a hand on your son, Callum's arm, and quietly asked him if he was hurt anywhere else.
Callum just shook his head, not wanting to speak while Soap was already getting bored listening to all of the talking the principal was doing.
"It doesn't matter if he started insulting him because Callum was the one who got violent," Mr. Smith said as you tried to defend your son.
The boy obviously looked much worse than Callum. His hair was disheveled and his face was bruised. His nose was also bleeding, as was his lower lip.
It looked like your son had done some damage.
"What exactly did he do?" Soap asked, wanting to know exactly how Callum had hit the boy.
As Mr. Smith explained what your son had done, Soap's eyes lit up and a smile appeared on his face.
"I'm so proud of you, you used the punch I taught you," Soap said, extremely pleased that Callum had listened and actually used the things he had taught him.
Callum grinned at his dad's antics as you put your face in your hands, sighing and muttering "Why did I marry this idiot..."
Gaz:
You were shocked to hear what your son, Ethan, had done to the boy.
Mr. Smith was obviously upset and angry that Ethan had acted so childishly, and immediately got into a physical fight the moment the boy wouldn't stop insulting him.
You felt the headache already pounding in your head as you rubbed your temple, completely out of it.
Ethan didn't really say anything, he just listened to everything that was said.
The boy's parents glared at the three of you, never once looking away.
The boy that insulted your son, looked angry, obviously still being pissed at the fact that Ethan punched him, even though he himself started with the insults.
Gaz was not even shocked, sitting there with his hand holding up his head up as he looked extremely uninterested in the principal's endless speech.
Rolling his eyes, Gaz moved closer to you and Ethan as he whispered.
"Did you break any of his bones?"
"No."
"Good, because I'm not paying anything in this economy."
#cod x reader#ghost x reader#ghost x you#john price x you#john price x reader#gaz x reader#gaz x you#soap x you#soap x reader#john mctavish x reader#john price x male reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x male reader#soap x male reader#ghost x gender neutral reader#soap x gn!reader#price x gn reader#gaz x gn!reader#tf 141 x reader#tf141 x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost x y/n#john price oneshot#soap x y/n#gaz x male reader#simon riley x y/n#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley imagine
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OMG SAW UR ASKS WERE OPEN AND I RAN SO FAST HFJDJSBS
Anyways ok so imagine *trips over my own feet* imagine uhm baking cookies *stumbling* baking cookies with Lilia:3
No pressure ofc! I hope u will enjoy writing this if u do! And make sure to drink after and take care of urself!
Flour Belongs In The Cookies; Lilia Vanrouge
Content; Gender-neutral reader, fluff, some pining
Word Count; 650+
Author's Note; Cloudy, you do know how bad his cooking is, right? Besides that, I hope you enjoy what I did with this little prompt!
As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist
You knew full well going into this that Lilia … wasn’t the best person to leave around food. Well, you didn’t know to the full extent how ‘bad’, ‘revolting’, and ‘utterly cursed’ he was according to his dormmates (and adoptive family? Still trying to wrap your head around that one, to be honest).
Yet, as you were both adding ingredients to the batch of cookies you were making, he had done nothing to tamper with the recipe or mess up by accident. Perhaps Silver, Sebek and Malleus were just overexaggerating it? Lilia has been completely fine, a great helper even!
“So,” you cleared your throat, breaking the quiet (which was both comfortable yet awkward). “Why did you want to bake cookies with me? Not that I mind, just curious is all.”
Lilia looked up from the wet and dry ingredients he was combining and offered you a cheeky smile with a wink. “Hmm, do I need a reason to do so,” he breathed with a silent chuckle, sneaking some of the raw dough into his mouth.
You tutted, taking the bowl away from him. “I don’t need you getting sick from eating that now–”
But your attempt at lecturing was silenced by a small puff of flour being slapped gently on your cheek; a white handprint now on it. “RUDE!”
Lilia was having a good old laugh, from either getting flour on you, the shocked expression on your face, or a combination of the two (knowing him, it was bound to be the last one). He was actually getting pink in the face because of it; was he even taking breaks from laughing to breathe???
“Ah, lighten up! Plus,” he paused and covered your hand in flour and gently slapped it on his cheek, “there, we match now.”
His magenta eyes were twinkling with mischief and you found yourself gently shaking your head and chuckling. Sighing, you picked up some flour with your hands and made it look like you were just going to cover the countertop with it, but you swerved, and slapped it into Lilia’s hair.
Lilia coughed, and rubbed at his eyes, trying to get the flour out of his eyes, but once he opened them again, you were gone. So we’re playing games now? But he just wheezed in delight and gave chase, a cup full of flour on hand so he could repay the favour. After all, since you both had matching handprints on your cheeks, you deserved to be bestowed some flour on your head.
“And here you were saying it was rude of me for that first move,” he called out into the dorm. They couldn’t have gotten far now.
He heard the curtains ruffle, and he floated over, not making a sound.
Peaking oh so carefully behind the curtains, he spotted you, silently giggling to yourself. And that’s when he made his move.
“Found you!~” And he sprinkled the flour over your head; much more gently than you did to him.
You groaned, knowing it would take a bit to get the flour out from everything… but the way Lilia floated overhead made it look like he was sprinkling snow… was he always this pretty? Even with him covered in flour, you still felt your heart flutter.
You mentally slapped your cheeks though, and got yourself up.
“Guess you did… but that was fun,” you chuckled, dusting yourself off to the best of your ability.
The moment though was ruined by your smoke alarm going off; it was a wonder that those even worked, but hey, at least they worked.
Rushing to the kitchen, you opened up the oven to have a mass of black smoke smelling of burnt food of some sort enveloping the both of you.
“What happened?!” You coughed out, trying to open up the windows and doors to let out the smoke.
Lilia grimaced, “Ah… perhaps I set the oven too high.”
And even though you had fun making the now coal-like cookies, perhaps store-bought would have been better…
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Tags; @afunkyfreshblog @eynnwwyjth @identity-theft-101 @ithseem @lucid-stories @ryker-writes @twistwonderlanddevotee @xxoomiii
#twst#twst x reader#twst x gender neutral reader#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland x gn reader#lilia vanrouge#lilia vanrouge x reader#lilia vanrouge x gn reader#just be happy the cookies burned and that you didn't have to eat them cuz he definitely messed with them when you ran#also enjoy getting flour out of the floorboards <3#how tf did i write this in under an hour???#cloudy!#cloudy do not trust this man's cooking PLEASE#lilia is a little shit and i love that for him
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instagram
I’ll never forget the day the Brady’s moved in across the street. Mr. Brady took his shirt off in the sweltering summer heat, his veiny biceps glistening with sweat as he hauled heavy boxes of toys into the brand new house he’d bought for his wife and two kids.
I’ve had crushes on plenty of guys, but with Mr. Brady it was different. Every time I’d see him out mowing the lawn, or playing Nerf wars with his kids, I’d think damn… that’s a fucking man. Husband material. A real-ass daddy.
Mrs. Brady was scarce. The rare times I did see her, she didn’t seem particularly happy. How could such a beautiful man be wasted on someone so ungrateful? I secretly longed to trade places with her, to have the perfect life in the perfect house with the perfect husband, to spend each night in his bed, holding those big strong arms while he pumped another kid into me.
Then one morning, I awoke on a queen-seized bed in a large master bedroom. Someone was showering in the bathroom. Family photos on the bedside table suggested I was in the Brady’s house… but how?
As I tore off the covers, I realized I wasn’t just in Mrs. Brady’s room: I was Mrs. Brady. Just then, the door to the bathroom opened and out walked Mr. Brady, dripping wet and completely nude.
“My eyes are up here,” he joked. But I couldn’t stop staring at the sausage swinging between his thighs. I’d always pegged Mr. Brady as a virile man, but seeing that donkey dick and big breeding balls up close filled me with a need I can scarce put into words.
Mr. Brady took notice. He cracked a cocky smile and marched over to me, his dick growing stiffer with each step. “Looks like someone’s finally ready for kid numero tres.”
He climbed onto the bed and slipped three fingers into my pussy. Mrs. Brady’s body—my body contracted around him, and I was hit with a wave of all-consuming euphoria.
We didn’t leave the bed until Mr. Brady had dumped three loads in me. Thus began my first day as a young housewife, going about Mrs. Brady’s routine with her husband’s seed leaking out from between my quivering legs.
I could get used to this…
Click the link and follow my Instagram for more short transformation captions!
#Instagram#tf#male transformation#transformation#male body swap#body swap#gender tf#male to female#straight
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Saw an idea from @frogchiro and decided to write some feral content. Send her some love ❤
TW: yandere, monster fucking, werewolves, some crack/funny thoughts, talks about pregnancy/having pups (still gender-neutral), and knotting stuff.
Imagine TF-141 being yandere werewolf hybrids, falling for you all at once, each sharing their own yandere traits; which, causes all of them to be wherever you are. The need to scent you. Need you to be beside them at all times. And soon bring you home as theirs.
And now, you're their mate, sharing is needed — pack mates practically share everything, no?
Out of the four, Soap and Gaz are the absolute worst — they're feral, energized through the roof, and has to follow you around constantly; nudging into your crotch as they need to smell you. Smell your addictive scent that makes them all types of crazy, causing them to start nipping at your poor skin, growling at each other as the need for breeding comes along.
They both love to yap and bark at you, gently grasping your hand to guide you back to your bed (aka nest) so they can cuddle you (or stuff you full of their knot, their fluffy fur likely suffocating you.)
Though, you are often saved by Simon, and Price, whom are the biggest. They growl at them to watch it and gently bite their ears on scolding, snarling at them of needing to be more careful, and to not hurt you. You're their perfect mate!
Of course, Soap and Gaz make it up with sloppy kisses. And how can you not forgive them? Their obvious doggy eyes working perfectly.
Simon and Price are more so on the chiller side. Watching from afar, and demand cuddles that end up with their heads laying on your lap, the thumping of their tails on the chewed-up couch shows their appreciation when you finally decide to pay them attention.
But don't think they don't get possessive – because they do. More often or not, the hickeys and knots come from them. Though, they're regularly the nicest, rarely one to hurt you, and more aware of their size.
But, their breeding cycles are the fucking worse. Soap and Gaz are naturally horny, biting at your form as their tongue hangs out, but Simon and Price are a menace when in heat. Being more vocal, possessive, and often nipping at your ankles to not stray too far.
Regularly dragging you by the scruff of your clothes where the two of you can mate, spending their heat in peace. Making sure that you can see Price flexing his burly muscles, wanting you to admire their wagging fluffy tails, and showing off how thick, glossy Simon's fur is, and how both of them. All of them, really, can provide you with pleasant things, including a healthy litter of pups.
Despite them being pack mates, all of them are fighting on a regular basis — they all want to be the first one to breed, knot, and have you carry their pups.
When in their full werewolf forms, soap is more prone to chasing butterflies, and bringing you back half-alive birds, barking at you for his proud hunt – his mouth and chest covered in deepening blood.
Though, Gaz, and Price, actually bring actual gifts that are thoughtful — plopping full landscape roses in front of you, the roots still connected to the plant as their tail wag violently as they wait for your praise.
Simon, on the other hand, brings actual food. Like… steals a whole ass barbecued-chicken from someone's backyard, and nudges it closer to you as it's still warm.
Stares at you to eat it, his hazel eyes demanding for you to take it, but immediately snaps at Johnny, who only cackles back. He tries so hard to steal the items every time Simon gifts you something (he just wants a bite out of your food — sharing means caring!).
Everywhere on your body is marked by them, the harsh-but-yet healed maw-marked implanted into your skin. Their marks are typically licked, and kissed on by them.
Bring me some more ideas, please!! I fucking love these men who are feral for you — especially as werewolves 🤭
—
Here's my mw2 masterlist for more things <3
#werewolf#tf-141#mw2 werewolves#yandere male#kokeshi!!#kokeshi rambles!#yandere x reader#male yandere#yandere blog#yandere#yandere ideas#yandere werewolf#yandere monster#yandere monsters#yandere poly#yandere mw2#yandere polyamorous#hybrid au#x reader#dark content#werewolf au#task force 141#tf 141#141 x reader#mw2 141#yandere thoughts#yandere thoughts of the day#mw2 hybrid au#yandere x gn reader#yandere x gender neutral reader
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Older Boyfriend Price was very active, willingly—of course his line of work needed him to be in tip top shape but he enjoyed a multitude of things that kept the body moving.
Hiking, Running, Swimming, Fucking, etc.
There wasn't much he wasn't capable of doing and he loved to extend the gesture your way.
The waves traverse down the rigid rocks in a continuous fashion, the sound whooshing through your ears, reminiscent of one holding a conch shell to hear the sea.
Your knees were on a grassy patch of land, a numbness setting in but you couldn't bother to care at the moment.
How could you be able to care when your face was being stuffed with Price's cock?
His hands had bunched up your hair without a care, messing whatever hairstyle it was in as he tugged your head farther back to sink every inch of his fat throbbing length down your greedy throat.
"Hungry thing aren't ya'?" He chided, in awe at how easily you throated him.
You could only moan around him, there wasn't anything to disagree about, if you could keep his cock stuffed down your throat you would.
Click Here→ 🩵
#writers on tumblr#call of duty#call of duty smut#cod mwii#cod smut#female writers#captain john price#captain john price x reader#john price x reader#captain price smut#captain price#captain john price smut#price smut#john price#price x you#price x reader#gender nuetral reader#writerscommunity#cod mw#cod mw2#cod mw3#captain john price x you#blurb#twitter links#cod links#tf 141
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