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#help me . btw
thecoolertails · 10 months
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thanks that was really helpful
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saelestia · 2 months
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"MY MAN"
four characters who make you yell "MY MAN MY MAN MY MAN" !! I'll go first !
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thought this was a silly idea keep it going! tagging ; @rrairey @httpshujii @cindol @seneon @cheriiyaya @accidentcache @suntoru and anyone else wanting to participate !
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theoldkyokodied · 6 months
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Guess who has been rewatching iasip...
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azuremist · 4 months
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TME and TMA as intersexist terms: as written by an intersex transfem
I’ve had a few different people in my inbox asking me why I view these terms the way I do. In particular, why I claim it’s intersexist. So, I thought I’d lay out a few examples, so everyone can understand where I’m coming from.
Imagine an intersex woman. She was assigned female at birth by her doctors, and was able to go about her childhood as a woman with no inclination that anything was amiss. Sure, she didn’t experience certain parts of puberty, but puberty was different for everyone, right?
But, later in life, she learns she has Turner syndrome. This is an intersex condition where a woman has only one X chromosome, rather than the usual two.
Soon after she learns this, she finds that laws are being made to attempt to keep trans women out of women’s spaces (often specifically sports) which use chromosomes as a defining factor of womanhood.
Would this intersex person be considered “transmisogyny affected”? She has been raised as a cisgender woman with no problems regarding being ‘clocked’, but she is also a direct target of transmisogynistic laws. She lies in a gray area.
Now, let’s go to another intersex person. Imagine an intersex man with PAIS. AIS is an intersex condition where babies are born with testes and XY chromosomes, but their body is immune to or can’t respond to androgens (which includes testosterone). Intersex people with partial AIS (PAIS) often develop a vulva and clitoris during puberty.
This intersex person identifies as a man, and he was assigned male at birth. However, his body does not produce testosterone, and he went through a feminizing puberty. To the average eye, he appears to be a woman now because of this.
Would this intersex person be considered “transmisogyny affected?” He was assigned male at birth, and now appears to be a woman, much like many transfems. However, if many saw how he looks now, stating that he is a male, they would probably clock him as transmasc. He was raised as a boy until puberty, and then faced astrozcization from his peers when he began a puberty that feminized him. What he was facing was a form of intersexism where transmisogyny was playing a huge part. Does his childhood matter? Can one become TME over time, when they were TMA as a child? Again, he lies in a gray area, where the answer is not quite so simple.
What about the “opposite”, per se — an intersex woman who had a masculinizing puberty? She has aromatase deficiency, which means that many ‘male’ hormones (which would usually be converted to ‘female’ hormones) would remain unconverted. She identifies as a woman, and was identified as a female at birth and was raised, until puberty, as a female. But now, she would be clocked as a trans woman upon looking at her. What does that make her? Is it different from the previous example? How and why? This intersex person also lies in a gray area. How she should be described with these terms is not clear.
And keep in mind, these are all relatively simple examples. All of the examples I listed self-identify as cisgender. But there are intersex people who are trans in any direction you can imagine.
If that last example identified as a trans woman, because she is now clocked as one, would you be able to say she’s wrong for that? What about if she identified as transmasculine, because of her experience with puberty? What if she’s multigender, bigender or genderfluid, and says she’s both transmasc and transfem because of her complicated experiences? Would that make her a TMA transmasculine person? But I thought that transmascs were all TME? That’s how it’s so often framed, anyway.
The reason why these questions are so difficult to answer is because these terms were not made with intersex people in mind. Very real intersex transfems were pushed to the wayside in favor of centering the perisex view of transgenderism. Intersex people are nothing but an inconvenient little afterthought, annoying perisex people with their demand for “inclusion” and “consideration”. (As per usual.)
You cannot simply make a new gender binary and say, “No, really, this time everyone fits into these two categories! Forcing people to confine themselves to these two rigid labels which are shown as opposites, and as never interacting, will definitely include everyone this time!!” No matter what the contents of the new binary is, it’s not going to work, because sex and gender alike are too complicated for that. There will always be people in the gray area.
This isn’t even getting into the fact that these terms, for all intents and purposes, seem to have been popularized by and associated with the Baeddelism movement around 2017, which was essentially “Radical Feminism 2: We’re Trans Women, So It’s Fine!” This movement is known for chronic villainization of trans men and non-binary people who aren’t transfem. (They act like this with cis people too, but noticeably less so than they do with non-transfem trans people. How curious.) Think along the lines of how regular radfems treat all men (and who they deem to be men) as inherently morally disgusting scum who deserve to be attacked.
Methinks that maybe these terms aren’t the neutral, fact-based descriptors of oppression that many people nowadays tout them to be, considering that.
So, yeah. “Transmisogyny exempt” and “transmisogyny affected” as terms: not even once. Listen to intersex people, stop trying to make sex and gender into binaries, and for the love of God, stop drinking the queer seperationist koolaid!
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solardrake · 7 months
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Delivering mail to the furthest corners of the server ✉✈
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ardeidae-e · 6 months
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i was gonna post another drawing but this gave me so much needed serotonin that i want yall to have it too
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sillyahhchana · 7 months
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yeah yeah just a quick doodle for new dca crumps you guys know i must come back
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inkskinned · 9 months
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they want to talk about mental illness and acceptance and how everyone is a little ocd it's cute and quirky and their "intrusive thoughts" are about cutting their hair off and you say yours are about taking a razorblade to your eye and they say ew can you not and everyone is a little adhd sometimes! except if you're late it's a personality flaw and it's because you are careless and cruel (and someone else with adhd mentions they can be on time, so why can't you?) and it's not an eating disorder if it's girl dinner! it's not mania if it's girl math! what do you mean you blew all of your savings on nonrefundable plane tickets for a plane you didn't even end up taking. what do you mean that you are afraid of eating. get over it. they roll their little lips up into a sneer. can you not, like, trauma dump?
they love it on them they like to wear pieces of your suffering like jewels so that it hangs off their tongue in rapiers. they are allowed to arm-chair diagnose and cherrypick their poisons but you can't ever miss too many showers because that's, like, "fuckken gross?" so anyone mean is a narcissist. so anyone with visual tics is clearly faking it and is so cringe. but they get to scream and hit customer service employees because well, i got overwhelmed.
you keep seeing these posts about how people pleasers are "inherently manipulative" and how it's totally unfair behavior. but you are a people pleaser, you have an ingrained fawn response. in the comments, you have typed and deleted the words just because it is technically true does not make it an empathetic or kind reading of the reaction about one million times. it is technically accurate, after all. you think of catholic guilt, how sometimes you feel bad when doing a good deed because the sense of pride you get from acting kind - that pride is a sin. the word "manipulation" is not without bias or stigma attached to it. many people with the fawn response are direct victims of someone who was malignantly manipulative. calling the victims manipulative too is an unfair and unkind reading of the situation. it would be better and more empathetic to say it is safety-seeking or connection-seeking behavior. yes, it can be toxic. no, in general it is not intended to be toxic. there is no reason to make mentally ill people feel worse for what we undergo.
you type why is everyone so quick to turn on someone showing clear signs of trauma but you already know the fucking answer, so what's the point of bothering. you kind of hate those this is what anxiety looks like! infographics because at this point you're so good at white-knuckling through a severe panic attack that people just think you're stoic. even people who know the situation sometimes comment you just don't seem depressed. and you're not a 9 year old white kid so there's no way you're on the spectrum, you're not obsessed with trains and you were never a good mathematician. okay then.
mental illness is trending. in 2012 tumblr said don't romanticize our symptoms but to be fair tiktok didn't exist yet. there's these series of videos where someone pretends to be "the most boring person on earth" and is just being a normal fucking person, which makes your skin crawl, because that probably means you are boring. your friend reads aloud a profile from tinder - no depressed bitches i fucking hate that mental illness crap. your father says that medication never actually works.
you still haven't told your grandmother that you're in therapy. despite everything (and the fact it's helping): you just don't want her to see you differently.
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araneapeixes · 3 months
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in the bathroom at the gay clubbbb
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thoodleoo · 4 months
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youre in her dms....im in the 2000 year old carbonized papyrus that she's analyzing with 3D imaging technology in an attempt to extract the text
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bleh1bleh2 · 3 months
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⭐️ Golden Star ⭐️
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tofixtheshadows · 3 months
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So I've been thinking lately about how Mithrun is Kabru's dark mirror (more on that another time- it needs its own post), and I thought it interesting that one of their parallels is that they were both cared for by Milsiril, but in opposite directions. She took Kabru in as her foster after he was orphaned and tried to convince him not to become an adventurer. On the flip side, she helped rehabilitate Mithrun specifically so that he could rejoin the Canaries.
And I kept wondering: why?
For Kabru, obviously she loves him a whole lot- despite any other shortcomings in their relationship, I do believe that.
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So I get why she tries to convince him not to go dungeoning, and, failing that, at least prepares him as thoroughly as she can.
But why help Mithrun? She used to hate Mithrun, but after realizing what a secretly twisted person he was, she actually thought of him more positively (oh, Milsiril). So it wasn't as if she held the kind of grudge that might motivate her to make his already-depleted life even more miserable by sending him back to the dungeons. And it wasn't that she felt bad for him either, since she didn't visit Mithrun for the first ~20 years of his recovery.
The Adventurer's Bible says that Utaya was the impetus for Mithrun returning to the Canaries, but Milsiril is the one who made the trip to see him and tell him about it.
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Why would Milsiril work so hard to get her old coworker back into fighting fit? Why encourage him to return to such a dangerous lifestyle, when she was the one who chose not to mercy-kill him?
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That last panel is such a crazy thing to hint at and then never elaborate on. Without it we could have just thought that Milsiril wanted the Canaries' work to continue without her, even if it seemed out of character. I think some people even assume she's just a natural caretaker as a foster mom and handwave it to include nursing Mithrun too. What could Milsiril's suspicious motives be? What does she gain from Mithrun joining the Canaries that isn't an altruistic desire to see dungeons safely sealed? Feeling a sense of responsibility for the work she left behind isn't an ulterior motive.
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My theory is: Milsiril, knowing that Mithrun was empty save for the burning desire to face the demon again, wound him up like a clockwork doll and pointed him back at the dungeons.
Hoping that he'd eliminate the biggest threat to Kabru's life, before it was too late for him.
Milsiril the puppetmaster.
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cherrirui-official · 3 months
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I hope u guys don't mind me posting these au doodles while I work on things ahaha
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I also gave JD slightly longer hair in these doodles as a funny haha but I don't think it's funny anymore he looks genuinely good with his hair like that ahahaha I hope you're not mad at me for changing his au design a bit
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mangostarjam · 2 months
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taking care — wind breaker, aged up sakura haruka x f!reader, established relationship, "brat" as a petname, smut towards the end, 4.4k words
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"Aren't you too old for this?"
Sakura Haruka grimaces and shoves his bruised hands into his pockets. You raise an unimpressed eyebrow. There's dirt smudged along his cheekbone and the end of his sleeve is ripped.
"They were tryin' to hit on a girl." It comes out mumbled. Haruka's two toned gaze is averted to the top of your head. It was always difficult to get him to meet your eye in your high school years, but ever since he hit his growth spurt and graduated you feel like it's gotten worse.
"Haruka-kun," you sigh, "c'mere."
You grab his arm and tug, taking advantage of his brief moment of surprise to drag him into the back of the bakery. Your coworkers wave and smile at the former school captain but otherwise leave the two of you alone.
"Y-you…! What're you doing?"
The back office of Saboten is neat and clean and thankfully empty. You shove Haruka into a chair and grab his chin, ignoring the flare of heat beneath your fingers as he turns bright red.
"Did you get hit on the face?" you ask, leaning closer to look. The dirt smudging his cheek is loose, brushing away easily when you stroke the smooth skin there. You probe gently at the strong bone beneath and ignore the way his chest seizes with a held breath.
"No," he mumbles, "it's just dirt."
Your attention is drawn — as always — to his eyes. A muted, stormy gray blue and a bright, shimmering gold meet your unabashed gaze as your thumb strokes along his cheekbone again.
"I'm glad you didn't get hurt." You allow yourself a tiny grin as he scrunches his nose at you. "You could've let the new Bofurin kids handle it… but those guys will definitely think twice about messing with anyone from our neighborhood now."
"'Course," Haruka sniffs. You wonder if he knows he's leaning into your palm. "It was a quick fight, anyway. Only losers are late."
"I told you, you don't have to pick me up from work. I can handle myself." You giggle as he scoffs. You slide into a crouch, propping up your elbows on his knees for balance. "Give me your hands, Haruka-kun."
Your boyfriend hesitates for a short moment before releasing a breath. His hands are rough, but he flips them over obligingly and doesn't flinch when you curl your fingers around his wrists. "You've bruised your knuckles again," you tsk. "I'll go grab the first aid kit."
"W-wait." Haruka's entire face is charmingly pink, the gentle hue sweeping along his cheeks and up to the tips of his ears. "You don't… I mean, I don't need you to —"
"I know," you hum, tugging his hands up to brush a gentle kiss along his skin. "But I want to."
Haruka stays quiet as you fetch the first aid kit and get to work disinfecting the tiny cuts on his hands. You're used to the comfortable silence, basking in the familiarity of tending to his battle wounds in the back of the bakery where you first met.
You never would've guessed that part of your job duties at the bakery would include taking care of the new out-of-towner all those years ago, though it wasn't like he went along with it quietly. Your boss at the time was adamant that the Bofurin boys deserved all the freebies the bakery could afford to give, and she never minded when you'd pop off to the back alley to administer first aid.
Nirei was the one who knew you were handy with a medical kit, but it was Suo who eventually tricked their first year captain into coming to you. Haruka was a lot pricklier back then, shying away from casual human contact like everyone was out to get him but diving into fights like nobody's business.
Luckily for you, in spite of his speed and reflexes, Haruka definitely wasn't used to girls who were willing to literally sit on him to force him to stay still for first aid. After enough times shoving freshly baked bread into his hands and making him into your first aid practice dummy, he started to show up outside the bakery's back door on his own, often looking like a disgruntled street cat.
Little by little, you learned which breads he preferred and you begged Kotoha to teach you how to make omurice the way Haruka liked it. Little by little, he stopped flinching away from your touch and even let you lean against him when you needed a short break from work or studying, propping your head up against his shoulder and staying still enough that sometimes you'd fall asleep.
Little by little, the two of you fell in love.
Haruka doesn't say anything as you finish smoothing the tape holding his new wrappings together, but he flips his hands to hold onto you as you rise from your knees. You smile. "Do you wanna get dinner at Cafe Pothos? Kotoha-chan might make fun of you, though."
"She'll make fun of me no matter what," he grumbles. You snicker as he ducks his head. From this angle, you can only see the pale white eyelashes of his left side pressing against his skin as he takes a deep breath. "Don'tcha need to finish your shift? I'll be outside."
"Aw, are you worried about me?"
"Shaddup" Haruka huffs. "As if I care."
You grin as he rises to his full height, still steadily avoiding eye contact as you squeeze his hands. After all these years, it's cute how flustered he still gets when you tease him. "Haruka-kun? You can let me go now."
"…Can't."
"Oh?" you raise an eyebrow and tilt your head to catch his eye. He scowls. "If you just loosen your fingers—"
"Sh-shut up." You watch patiently as your boyfriend takes a deep breath. It's quiet in this back office, though a wall is shared with the employee locker room and you can hear a few of your coworkers laughing and chatting indistinctly. The smell of rising dough and freshly baked bread permeates the room, cut through with the sharp tang of antiseptic cream.
Haruka's ears are still red. You catch a glimpse of them through his black and white hair and squeeze his hands again. So cute. "Haruka," you say.
"…What?"
You rise up on tiptoes to kiss him, holding onto his hands for balance as you rock forward. Haruka predictably freezes before making a rough sound and kissing you back, letting you take the lead as you lean into him. His heartbeat jumps beneath your lips as you move to kiss at the soft spot below his jaw, earning another strangled noise that makes you smile into his skin.
It's warm. You think maybe your own ears are red enough to match his, but you don't give him a chance to notice, pressing another quick kiss to his lips and disentangling yourself. "I've gotta get back to work. I'll see you in a bit, 'kay?"
You leave him in the back office, knowing he'll find his way to the alleyway behind the bakery to wait for you, as always. Your coworkers don't mention how long you were missing, but you take over the mopping and cleaning duties as a thank you anyway.
Haruka doesn't take your hand when you meet him after your shift, but he walks close enough that your shoulders brush with every step. The gentle ringing of the wind chimes strung up below the shopping district sign follows the two of you on your walk towards home.
"What should we have for dinner, since you don't wanna endure Kotoha's teasing?" you ask, grinning lopsidedly when Haruka snorts in response. The street lamps cast a glow along his black and white hair, haloing him in a light gold that pales in comparison to his golden eye.
He glances sideways at you as you pause at a crosswalk. You catch a flash of gold and blue before he faces forward again. "You're comin' over?"
"Yes, or else you'll eat instant noodles again and die of malnutrition," you say. The two of you step into the street, though he steps slightly ahead of you to make sure it's clear. "Unless you don't want me to."
"Let's have curry."
"Did you get ingredients for curry, mister?" you ask, bumping your shoulder into his arm teasingly. "Or will we need to stop by a konbini again for emergency supplies?"
"That was just one time," Haruka grumbles, but he glances back at you fondly as you laugh. "And I went shopping earlier, brat."
He lets you hold onto his sleeve as you enter his studio apartment and stays steady as you toe your shoes off in the genkan. The place is vastly improved from the first time you stepped foot in it all those years ago, when you were delivering food for a sick Haruka.
Gone are the creaky hinges and peeling paint — the walls are smooth and clean, the cabinet doors are all securely attached, and there are actual curtains hanging over the balcony doors. He still sleeps on a futon, but he also got a low table and cushions for guests after you complained about eating on top of cardboard boxes, and he got a dresser to store his clothing after you took him shopping so he'd stop wandering around town always wearing his high school uniform.
Making dinner is always fun, with Haruka, because even though he's grown and learned a lot, you still get to tease him about his bulk stack of instant noodle packages and he still turns bright red when you lean over the table to offer him a spoonful from your plate.
He's more relaxed here, more willing to close the gap between you when you reach out to him. It used to worry you in the beginning — would you always be the one to make the first move? Did he actually like you, or was he just going along with your flirting because he didn't know any better?
Then he does something like swiping his thumb along your lips and sticking the digit in his mouth, laughing at your surprised gasp and gathering up the dishes before you can form a coherent thought. He asks about your day and listens as you tell him about the cute little kid who came into the shop asking for curry bread because "that's Sakura-taicho's favorite, and I wanna be like him when I grow up!"
You bask happily in the furious blush that paints his skin, grinning to yourself as he stammers and jerks his face away.
"Did you get new towels?" you ask, handing him a soapy plate to rinse off. Your boyfriend takes it, huffing an amused snort when you yawn widely. It's nearing your bedtime, and your sated appetite is making you even sleepier.
"Yeah," Haruka says, "since you were complainin' last time that mine're scratchy."
"Oh, nice," you say, rinsing the suds off your hands and moving to stand behind him. You shove your face into his shoulder blades before he can move, wrapping your arms around his middle as he tenses beneath you. It's been ages since he was an active fighter defending the town, but you can still feel the power and strength of his densely packed muscles twitching under your hold. "Mm, I'm sleepy…"
"Gwah! What are ya, an octopus?!" Haruka sets the clean plate on the drying rack and settles his hands on top of yours, but he doesn't move you. He could easily overpower you, though you're hugging him pretty firmly, pressing your entire body up against his as you take a deep breath. "The hell're you doin'?"
"Hugging you," you say. Haruka's fingers tighten around your wrists, but he still doesn't move you.
"I got that, genius."
"I'm just recharging before I have to head home," you mumble into his shirt. You're saving both of you from embarrassment, here, hugging him from behind like this, so really he should be grateful that you're so considerate of his feelings.
"It's late."
"I know," you whine, squeezing him just a little bit harder. "I don't wanna think about it."
"You have a toothbrush here."
Oh. "I don't have clothes here."
"You can borrow mine." Haruka stiffens even more as your hands clench the front of his shirt. "I-It's not like I'm tryna get you to stay over! It's just that it's late and you've gotta get up e-early tomorrow! I'm not some kinda pervert!"
You giggle into his back and nuzzle your forehead into the strong muscle there as he finally relaxes. "I'd be kinda upset if you didn't think about it a little bit, Haruka-kun. I am your girlfriend, after all."
Haruka lets out a huge sigh and moves to brace his hands on the counter. "You can take a bath first. Lemme go heat up the water."
"Are you trying to be a gentleman again?"
"Wuh — what're you talkin' about? I already told you I'm not a pervert!"
You laugh. "Last time you went to heat up the water for me, you didn't come out for a solid twenty minutes. I thought you passed out in there."
"That was just — I was just —!" Haruka hangs his head and you press your cheek against his back. You can feel his heartbeat pounding in double time. "I was tryin' to calm down."
"You don't have to, y'know," you say softly, patting at his firm chest with a sigh. "I wanna do it too."
Haruka chokes on his spit. Or at least, you think that's what happens, because he lapses into a coughing fit and gently pushes you towards the bathroom with a red face. He refuses to answer your concerned questions, only shoving a pair of shorts and a t-shirt into your arms before shutting the bathroom door on your amused face.
You shower and bathe on your own, humming a nonsensical tune as you lather up with his shampoo and body wash. It's a minor miracle and mostly a testament to your relationship that he has amenities at all, the clean smelling soaps clearly picked out with a thought towards your possible use of them. It makes your heart stutter in your chest when you notice that he's stocked your favorite brand of lotion on the counter and even left a clean face towel and headband for you to use while washing your face, as if he knew you'd need them eventually.
His clothes are a little too big on you, but you cinch the waistband of his shorts and hope for the best as you step out of the bathroom. Haruka is sitting stiffly at the low table, glaring down at his phone as the screen lights up with texts.
"Is everything okay?" you ask.
Haruka looks up and freezes. You pause in the act of adjusting his shirt on your shoulders, blinking at your boyfriend as he seems to go through five stages of something before he turns a bright cherry red and slams his eyes shut. You snort.
"You've seen me naked before, Haruka-kun."
"S-shaddup! T-that's different!"
You get on your knees in front of him and cup his face in your hands. Haruka doesn't flinch, but he cracks open one stormy blue eye like he's worried about what he might see. You roll your eyes at him. "Are you good? Why do you look so pissed at your phone?"
"Oh," Haruka blinks and glances sideways at the offending item. His face is warm in your hands. "The guys found out you're staying over."
"Are they giving you advice on how to get laid again?" you ask, giggling. "I love you, but please don't listen to Umemiya-san. I promise I don't get turned on by plant based pickup lines."
"I'm gonna shower!" Haruka stands abruptly and shuffles past you, but he pauses at the door. "You can read it, if ya want. The chat thread."
You raise an eyebrow and pick up his phone as he shuts the bathroom door behind him. A generic wallpaper greets you as you swipe it open, but you notice a star emoji next to your name in his message history, which makes you smile.
The chat thread with Haruka's former classmates is at the top, filling with more unread notifications as you watch. Scrolling through, you grin to yourself as the boys send teasing and shy stickers, interspersed with their own complaints of struggling to find partners for themselves and throwaway comments about "that lucky bastard Sakura" snagging "the cutest girl on Tonbu street".
"What're ya laughin' at?" You blink as Haruka crouches in front of you, a towel hanging around his neck. He's shirtless, and you watch with interest as a gentle pink flush deepens and spreads along his skin. "Quit starin'!"
"Y-you're the one who came out shirtless," you squeak, setting his phone aside and reaching out for him. Haruka chews on his lip but lets you touch him. "That's so unfair!"
You trail your hands down his bare sides and smile as he tries to suppress a shiver. Then you reach for his hands. "The first aid kit is here," Haruka says, stretching out to grab it from its shelf. The movement puts his hard muscles on full display, though you have a feeling it's unintentional. Regardless, you can't quite tear your eyes away from his chest and stomach, watching as the muscles of his abs flex when he returns to his crouch.
"You're so stupidly hot," you mutter, accepting the kit and snapping it open. "I can't believe you just walk around looking like this."
"H-huh?" Haruka's eyes widen in surprise. You grab his hands to keep him from running away, but he stays still as you reapply ointment and bandages to his knuckles.
"I know you find it hard to believe, since people used to give you shit about your looks, but you are…" you pause and glance up at him, taking in his smooth skin, his beautiful gray blue and golden eyes, his fluffy black and white hair, "stupidly hot."
Your boyfriend sighs and places a hand on your hip. You set the first aid kit aside and grin up at his pleasantly pink face. "Can I kiss you?"
"Yes, please."
Haruka kisses you slowly, tentatively. It's a little precarious, leaning up as he crouches in front of you, so you drag him to the futon and pull him over you, tugging him close by the ends of his towel. "You're so warm," he mutters, shifting his weight on his elbows and doing his best to keep from crushing you.
You sigh into the next kiss, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him down, huffing a laugh when he grunts and smacks his hand against the floor in surprise. "You're so far from me, how can you even tell?" you tease.
"You're always warm," Haruka grumbles. He noses along your cheek, smiling against the smooth skin there as you giggle. "And soft."
"Are you callin' me weak?" you ask, tilting your head to kiss him again. He breaks the kiss with a pant, nipping at the exposed skin of your collar as your shirt shifts. "Ah — hey!"
Haruka groans, one of his hands going down to grip at the soft give of your waist, holding you still as he grinds down into the cradle of your thighs. You moan as his hard length drags against you, wiggling your hips into the friction as something pulses in your core. "I should've given you another shirt."
"A-another shirt? What's wrong with t-this one?" You gasp as he rolls his hips again, arching into the touch as his free hand slips beneath your borrowed shirt to brush against the swell of your chest. You grab at his shoulders and back, dragging your blunt nails along his skin as you pant. "I l-like this shirt!"
"I like it too," he admits, hiding his face in the juncture of your neck and shoulder. His hand slides up to cup one of your tits, tugging and pinching as he sucks a bruise into your neck. "Y'look damn good in it."
You whine, throwing your head back as he shoves the shirt halfway up, snagging on the bottom of your breasts before he yanks it off of you entirely. He drapes himself back over you almost right away, kissing you breathless until you lick into his mouth to earn a strangled groan.
Haruka seems content to keep kissing you, and normally you wouldn't mind, but your borrowed shorts are getting uncomfortably damp and he keeps rolling his hips mindlessly and it's driving you a little insane.
"Haruka, touch me already," you plead. Your boyfriend pulls apart a few scant centimeters, two toned eyes scanning your face wildly until you grab one of his hands and shove it down your shorts. "O-oh, yes, please right there —!"
"Fuck," he bites out. "You're so wet."
"Haruka, you need to stretch me out," you say breathlessly, squirming as his fingers slide and press against the wetness along your lips. "Y-you're too big to go right away, you've gotta ngh —"
He dips one finger into your clenching pussy and freezes above you. It would be almost comical except for how much hotter it makes you, forcing you to buck into his hand as he pants. "S-stop squirmin' or I'll come in my fucking pants," Haruka grunts, forcing himself to begin fingering you in earnest.
He grits his teeth when you whine at another added finger, scissoring them immediately to hurry this up. He doesn't want to hurt you, but when you're laid out like this right in front of him, looking so pretty and perfect, it's taking everything he has not to rut into you like an animal.
"I'm ready, 'm ready," you breathe. You wrestle the two of you out of your bottoms and giggle when he sends one pair of shorts flying into the wall, but your attention is immediately drawn to the trail of black and white strands leading down to your boyfriend's cock. "Can I?"
"Fuck no," Haruka says, positioning himself between your legs again. "D'you want me to die?"
That makes you laugh. You reach out for him as he spreads your legs apart with rough fingers, his easy, overwhelming strength making something throb in your gut. Your sex life is actually pretty healthy, considering your respective jobs and commitments and Haruka's healing trauma. He's always been careful and attentive to your needs as you learned about desire together. It's not like you're deprived of it, or anything.
But when Haruka slowly pushes his way inside you, the muscles along his jaw ticking with restraint, the feeling of being filled by him makes something snap in your core and you cum with a breathless cry.
Haruka freezes immediately, hands slamming down on either side of your head as you clench and squeeze his cock unrelentingly. He barely manages a shallow thrust before he has to freeze again, hot breaths puffing on your face.
"Did you just…?"
"Uh huh."
"Does that always happen??"
"Your dick isn't magical, Haruka-kun," you giggle, looping your arms around his shoulders and wiggling your hips a little. "This isn't going to happen all the time, so don't get used to it."
"I wasn't sayin' that!"
Haruka pouts into your next kiss, but you lick into his mouth and manage to draw out a low groan and an aborted thrust. The ache in your gut hasn't lessened much. If anything, the pressure of his thick cock nestled inside you is making you tingle all over, and the way sweat starts to bead along his hairline makes you want to make him cry.
"You can move, please," you breathe, "you don't have to hold back."
"Don't wanna h-hurt you," Haruka grunts, pulling out slowly only to thrust back in with a force that makes your tits sway. He screws his two colored eyes shut, brows furrowing in concentration. "Fuck, you feel so good."
"You feel good, too," you sigh. "You can let go, I promise."
Haruka's next thrust makes you moan, and something in him seems to snap. He fucks you into the futon relentlessly, propping your ankles up on his shoulders, his dick hitting that spot inside that makes you see stars fuzzing along the edges of your vision. The angle presses your clit against his skin with every thrust, sending you quickly spiraling into another orgasm as you cry out his name.
"Hah, oh fuck I'm gonna —!"
Haruka groans a strangled garble of your name as he reaches his peak, thrusting into you deeply as his cock throbs and releases thick gobs of sticky cum inside you. He lets go of your legs immediately, pressing firmly into the muscles there to ease the strain of being stretched like that for so long, but he hides his face in your neck as the two of you catch your breath.
"Should I call in sick for work tomorrow?" you mutter absently, somewhat desperately grasping for some semblance of sanity. "I dunno if I'll be able to walk."
"Shit, did I hurt you?" Haruka asks, lifting his head and wincing at the pull of sweaty skin. He's glowing, bright and handsome above you, his hair damp with sweat. His two colored eyes are a little watery, his eyelashes sticking together in clumps with unshed tears from how hard he came. The sight makes something squirm in your gut.
You reach up to push his bangs out of his face and snicker as the strands stick up. "You didn't hurt me, you just fucked the strength out of my limbs. We'll need another shower."
Haruka blushes hotly, an impressive feat considering he's still solid and hard inside you. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm not hurt," you promise. You cradle his face in your hands and he leans into the touch. His hips roll slowly against you and he bites on his bottom lip as you gasp. "Haruka?"
"Maybe you should call in sick for work tomorrow."
"Seriously?"
Haruka nods, still blushing hard. "I swear I'm not a pervert, but you…"
You gape at him. "Are you calling me a pervert?"
"N-no!" You don't give him a chance to continue, leaning up to kiss him. You're both smiling when you pull away. "Who knew doing this stuff would feel better than fighting?"
You laugh out loud at that and flop back into the futon. "Are you seriously comparing the two things? Why're you thinking about fighting right now?"
"Can't help it," Haruka says, shrugging. "I could die when you make me feel so good. And fighting's what got me the cutest girl on Tonbu street."
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icedmetaltea · 5 months
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After that red-eyed Sun thing like... c'mon... we were all thinkin it
He talks a lotta shit for a guy within KISSING distance 😏
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Reblogs greatly appreciated!
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new-gender-who-dis-xd · 11 months
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Tips on how to make a trans girl smile:
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