I'm a trans man,my pronouns are it/its,any masculine neopronoun and he/him. I am NOT A MINOR,I like writing I guess,at least when I have ispiration. REQUESTS ARE OPEN. PLEASE SEND IDEAS OR REQUESTS. Also English isn't my first language so sorry for any mistake.
Before you go on to read everything under this,I am currently taking a break due to severe depression. I still take requests,but it may take weeks or months for me to write it. Please be understanding!
ATTENTION TO ALL LIVING AND NON-LIVING BEINGS READING THIS MESSAGE
I would like to start x male/trans male/any queer identification reader channel,but I have NO IDEA what to write to start.
Send me any and all requests you might have,and I'll try to write them.
I REPEAT,SEND ME ANY X MALE/TRANS MALE/ANY QUEER IDENTIFICATION READER IDEAS PLEASE
I'm BEGGING for ideas
LITERALLY.
Masterlists
Slashers x kid reader (platonic) mini serie masterlist
Ftm! Slashers x ftm! Reader serie
Bloody Summer (an Iron Lung oc story) blog right here
Fandoms I will write for:
Iron Lung (2026)
Project Hail Mary (2026)
(Yes I do write Simon x Grace)
Slashers
Frankenstein (2025)
Pride and Prejudice (2005)
Backrooms (2026)
Total eclipse (1995)
Hannibal
Death note
Shadow and Bone
DC
MCU
Deadpool
Harry Potter (I don't support J.K. Rowling)
Night at the museum
Twilight
Diary of a whimpy kid (Rodrick is hot and no one can tell me otherwise)
Demon Slayer
Invincible
Call of Duty
The hunger games
Barbie movie
Pirates of the Carrabian
Batfam
Jjk
Percy Jackson
Heroes of the Olympus
Fight club (Only if I really feel like it)
Things I will write for:
Character x (male,ftm or gn) reader
Character x character
Poly relationships
Angst
Fluff
Headcanons (my favourite)
Fics
Drabbles
Ships of any kind,do your worst it's just fiction and this is a proship channel
Smut (heacanons only,no fics)
Things I will NOT write for:
Anything involving real people (actors,singers,idols...)
Cis female! Reader (queer female reader is alright,for example mtf,etc...)
Smut fics (headcanons are fine)
Yep,that's it. That's all.
Also sorry if my English sucks,as it is not my first language.
I am also not a minor,but I'm not comfortable sharing my age here. This is for all the blogs that block ageless blogs because they don't want minors interacting.
And to anyone who is homophobic,transphobic,racist,a misoginist,prolife,pro-trump,a hater,bully,or anyone like that:
Pairing: Simon x m!reader
(Reader is the same reader from the series He's So Heavy)
Rating: E
Word Count: 1948
Requested By: 2 different Anons
Synopsis: You and Simon have a secret spot in-between the walls of Eden that you make excellent use of. Probably too often, it's not your fault you can't resist him.
A/N: This has been in the works far too long, I got hit by a massive smut writers block. But hey it's finished!
Content Tags: male reader, pre-Iron Lung, pre-established relationship, anal sex, lube, reader top, Simon bottom, slight dirty talk
It's late; most of Eden is fast asleep. Not you. Not Simon.
Your hand is tight to his, sneaking through the halls like when you were younger. Less giggly and nervous now. You're not little kids, and no one cares if you wander around in the late hours. If you get caught, they'll just ask what you're doing, and you and Simon are good at lying about the little things.
It barely takes any effort to make up an excuse, and no one ever fights you on it. You're Brothers and so you are trusted even in your oddity.
You turn the corner, scanning for others before you cross the hall to the wall hatch, slipping the key from your pocket as you go. With a quick motion you unlock the hatch and pull it open, recently greased. It's soundless. You keep it like that for just this reason.
Squeezing inside, you get past the first round of piping to where the narrow corridor opens up more. Not by a lot, but enough that you don't have to hold your breath. These networks are as familiar to you as your own body, the nervous system of Eden you could travel through without eyes.
Simon follows behind you, pulls the hatch shut, and clicks the lock into place. He glances at you with that spark in his eye that goes right to your gut, always one to wear his emotions on his sleeve. Fuck me eyes.Â
You plan to.
"C'mon," You say, taking his hand. He follows without complaint, squeezing your fingers as you pull him deeper in. There are certain areas between the walls that open out a little wider, closer to the vents and fans.
This works well in your favor, and given you two are the only ones who come into this particular areaâyou're the only one with a keyâthe two of you have taken advantage of it. Far in and around the corner there's an area that opens wide enough you can spread your arms out, palms against the piping.
The vents take up the far wall, releasing fresh oxygen and a gentle heat that keeps the whole space warmer than most areas on the station. Over time the two of you have smuggled pillows, blankets, rechargeable lights, and other random things here. The machinery and thick metal walls mean you could shout at full volume and no one else would hear.
It's a bedroom the two of you would happily use every night if you could get away with it. Unfortunately, you would be noticed eventually, so it is your secret place whenever you can manage it. You manage it more often than you likely should.
Once you've arrived, you tug Simon closer, chest to chest. He smiles; you smile back. There's a fumbling of limbs then, an eagerness that runs through the two of you. With a harsh hand you yank his shirt free; with a softer one he eases yours over your head.Â
Simon's lips fall to your collar as you tussle with the tie of his pants. Once the knot is loosened, they fall in a pile around his ankles, caught in half-tied boots. He sucks on the skin above your heart, leaving a new mark to match the dozens he's left in the past. Like a calling card.
You grab at the tie of your pants next, kicking your shoes off even as Simon clings to you like water to root. He follows your fumbling, in time with you, pushing his own boots free. The two of you fall together in a pile of limbs onto the blankets and pillows. There are just enough of them at this point that the metal grating of the floor is not so abrasive. It's not perfect, but it is comfortable enough, all things considered.
Simon lets out a wheeze as you land on top of him, but you don't give him much time to recover as your mouth finds his, tongue against teeth. His wheeze turns instead to a low groan as you settle between his legs, hard cock against your stomach.Â
You nip at his lip; he squeezes along the muscles of your shoulders. A learned dance between you.
It was fun to learn him, but now you find a good deal of enjoyment in using all your gained knowledge to your full advantage. You press along his chest, hips and suck on his bottom lip. He groans, rocking upward.Â
You shift to look down at him. He gazes back with parted lips and dark, low-lidded eyes. "What?" He mumbles, trying to kiss you again, but you lean back further so he can't, keeping him pinned to the ground.
"Just appreciating the view," You mumble. There's not much light, but there's enough to see how good he looks. All smooth skin and sculpted muscle.Â
You dip down to lick his neck, tasting the salt of sleep on your tongue. A few awkward shuffling motions later and the rest of the clothing between the two of you is tossed unceremoniously with the rest. You've always liked the feel of his cock slick with desire as he grinds against the plane of your stomach.
Enjoying the idea that he'll use any part of you in his desperation. Simon always finds little ways to stroke your ego or stroke himself you suppose, with a flash of amused teeth to his throat.
The familiarity of his body beneath your hands does not lower the appeal of him; he is known to you the way your body is. So you know how to coax pleasure without overthinking. Simon groans as you press down on him, increasing the pressure between you.
Simon says your name, gripping upward to cling to your shoulders. "Don't make me wait." He mumbles, always impatient, always desperate.
You smile into his neck again before retreating to reach the small box set to the side of your secret room. Pilfered items carefully 'borrowed' from storage. Simon is not one to steal, but you don't mind it from time to time for the right item. For him. The stars are gone; you'll take your pleasures before the hunger comes to claim you all.
There are all sorts of things in storage that are kept in case they might be needed, and you are lucky enough to have access to most places on Eden. Everywhere needs cleaning.
So you have access to lubricants that others do not, and you know of those that can be used for the human body. The advantages to being a janitor at the end of time. You grab the bottle by feel alone, dropping it beside your knee. Simon sees it, because he squirms against you.Â
You give him a fond look. "How do you want it, sunshine?"
"Now." The word is immediate and it pulls a laugh from you.Â
"No shit." You lean toward him, nose to nose. "Wanna be more specific?"Â
"Right now?" Simon says, and this time it is a tease, a way to goad a reaction from your hands as you grunt, pressing backward to grab at thighs and hips. You flip him with a strength honed from years of hard labor until he is chest to the floor and ass in the air. Presenting in his eagerness. Malleable to your hands, to your whim.
"Right now it is." You hum, flipping the bottle open with your thumb.
You pool some of the clear liquid across your pressed together fingers before capping it again to discard it to the side. This is a known dance. Simon relaxes; you lather it around the oversensitive pucker of his ass and slip a single finger inside him, twisting your hand.
This sneaking off is often enough; you are not overly concerned with working him to excess; you simply glide through the rehearsed steps in which will make him most comfortable before rubbing the excess slickness along your cock.
Even the faintest touch brings faint relief, pulling a sigh from between your lips. Simon bends his back, and you trace fingers across the globe of his ass until he shivers.
His body fits with yours, bending well beneath your slightly larger frame. You line yourself up, know the placement of such a motion without needing to check. "Breathe," You murmur, hand trailing down his spine.
Simon takes a slow breath, and you press forward, slow at first and then further and further until you are base to ass. The two of you let out another breath at the same time. Stuck in constant unison.
"Askin' you again, sunshine, how do you want it?" You murmur, grinding against him. Feeling the tight heat that surrounds you. He gasps at the sensation, not answering your question until you still to a stop.
"Rough." He mumbles out into the bedding. "Want it rough."
That you can do.Â
Your hands find his hips, digging into muscle, feeling the shape of him beneath you. You pull out to the tip, waiting until he tries to move himself, and then slam yourself home again. He gasps. That's all the encouragement you need before you repeat the motion, using your arms to yank him back as you thrust forward.
Simon chokes on his own pleasure as you grind against his ass. Finding that spot inside of him that you know will leave a puddle of drool around his mouth. "Is that what you want, sunshine?"Â
He nods, hands gripping the blanket. You rock into him, changing to quick, shallow thrusts. The feel of it runs through you like a live wire. Sparking down into your toes as you grunt. Your hands dig harder into his hips.
And then there is nothing but him and you, no end to one or the other. The fans cover up the clap of sound, Simon's groans, and the wetness of your cock sliding in and out of him.Â
You reach out, fisting the dark strands of his hair and press his cheek to the blanket so you can better see his face. The part of his mouth, the way his eyes are squeezed shut. You do that to him, only you and no one else.
"Fuck. Si. Fuck." You groan, letting your head fall back, feeling that tightness that grows too eager when presented with the one you love most panting beneath you.
It would give you confidence to say you had decent stamina, but in truth you don't. You're too impulsive, too desperate to feel. Always chasing whatever makes you feel the best, and this is no different. You never learned the art of taking your time.
Not when it's him. Not with the sound he makes with each thrust forward, the clap of your balls against his ass. A personal symphony.
Simon is stroking himself with one hand, the other latched to the blankets that surround you like an ocean of blue neither of you have ever seen. "In or back?" You ask, gritting your teeth to hold on long enough to hear his answer.
It takes him a moment to put the question together, his hand speeding up, twisting his wrist.
"In, in, in," he gasps.Â
You let your head fall back, let that tightness grow molten until your vision hazes. Your hips stutter as you fill him. He produces that noise he always makes, choked and high, as he comes into the blanket sea.
Your smile spreads as you pull from him; see the way white ivory leaks free. "You're a mess, Si," You tease, rubbing his hip.
"Wonder whose fuckin' fault that is?" He jokes drooping down to his stomach.
i'm begging you guys to start pirating shit from streaming platforms. there are so many websites where you can stream that shit for free, here's a quick HOW TO:
1) Search for: watch TITLE OF WORK free online
2) Scroll to the bottom of results. Click any of the "Complaint" links
3) You will be taken to a long list of links that were removed for copyright infringement. Use the 'find' function to search for the name of the show/movie you were originally searching for. You will get something like this (specifics removed because if you love an illegal streaming site you don't post its url on social media)
4) each of these links is to a website where you can stream shit for free. go to the individual websites and search for your show/movie. you might have to copy-paste a few before you find exactly what you're looking, but the whole process only takes a minute. the speed/quality is usually the same as on netflix/whatever, and they even have subtitles! (make sure to use an adblocker though, these sites are funded by annoying popups)
In conclusion, if you do this often enough you will start recognizing the most dependable websites, and you can just bookmark those instead. (note: this is completely separate from torrenting, which is also a beautiful thing but requires different software and a vpn)
you can also download the media in question (look for a "download" button built into the video window, or use a browser extension such as Video DownloadHelper.)
Option 1: try the DuckDuckGo search engine instead (bonus: dedicated to privacy! doesn't track your data!)
Option 2: go directly to LumenDatabase.org (the website that collects the complaints--and therefore the removed links) and search for the title you want. look for results titled "DMCA (Copyright) Complaint to Google" featuring the media you're looking for. Proceed to Step 3 (above).
personally, i'm a huge fan of r/FREEMEDIAHECKYEAH. they keep their links up to date and they also rank them, basically. they also have all kinds of little pages explaining how to safely pirate shit.
One thing I hate about the Italian dub of project hail mary is that they changed Rocky's mate name from Adrian (typically masculine name) to Adriana (typically feminine name).
Polyamory is safe for work. Polyamory is safe for kids. Polyamory is safe for day time tv. Polyamory isnât more sexual than any other relationship and it can be just as romantic, sweet, and healthy.
Bruce Banner x Male reader with explosive power. More specifically,Reader's blood is mixed with an extremely powerful,and very,very and I mean VERY unstable explosive,and he can release it trought his skin and his skin's heat will make it blow up. So reader can barely control his powers because of how powerful and unstable the explosive is,and he tends to explode in small ways at any strong emotion. Bad news? Goodbye couch,you have been burnt. Got too excited? Oooops,guess we need a new kitchen...and so on. So reader has to act mostly emotionless,but one thing is clear: he hates himself,his powers and how dangerous he is,and so he can PERFECTLY understand how Bruce feels about the Hulk,because he fells the same about his powers,and so they really get eachoter because of it. Also,Bruce is the obly one reader can't accidentally hurt thanks to the big green guy,and thanks to his powers,the big green guy can't really kill reader before Bruce can regaib control,so they don't have to be scared of accidentally hurting eachoter all the time!!!!!
WHY WOULD I BE SCARED OF YOU?
bruce banner x male reader
authors note: I like Bruce (even if it's not easily seen from my blog.) To me he's just a huge sweetheart whose self hatred is at an all high, so he keeps his distance from others but cares from afar. Do I explain myself? So, while writing this, I made it kinda indulgent to what I would like to hear if I was in the readers shoes. Hope you enjoy!
The first time you met Bruce, it was because youâd nearly taken out the east wall of the communal kitchen.
It wasn't your fault. Not really. A surprise announcement from Tony about a week-long, all expenses paid vacation had sent a jolt of pure, unadulterated excitement through you. Feeling the air shimmer with heat around you, you'd thrown your hands up, a useless gesture to stop what occurred next.
At least it wasn't a big explosion, not by your standards. Just enough to scorch the countertop and send the refrigerator skidding three feet to the left, its door hanging open like a silent scream.
You stood there in the smoldering quiet, the acrid smell of burnt plastic and ozone filling your lungs. Your skin tingled, flushed with a residual heat that would take an hour to fade. You hated this. You hated the volatile chemical cocktail that had replaced your blood, the curse that lived under your skin, waiting for any crack in your emotional armor to escape and destroy everything you touched.
Thatâs when Bruce walked in. He saw the scorch marks, the open refrigerator, and then he looked at you. âRough morning?â
You just nodded, unable to speak past the lump of shame in your throat.
Bruce walked over, carefully picked up a cup that had miraculously survived the blast, and poured you water from the tap. He handed it to you, his fingers brushing yours. You flinched, expecting the contact to trigger another reaction, but nothing happened.
âTonyâs announcements can be a lot,â he said, leaning against the scorched island. âI once broke a lab bench because he told me heâd managed to replicate super soldier serum in a toaster.â A huff of laughter escaped you, a rusty, unused sound.
That was the beginning.
Youâd sit in his lab while he worked, a comfortable silence falling over you. And that's why you liked hanging out with Bruce. You didn't have to pretend with him. You didn't have to force the emptiness in your expression, because he understood; saw the monster you were so afraid of and didn't flinch.
âYou know,â Bruce said one day, not looking up from a microscope, âthe other guy, heâs not just anger. Heâs fear. Heâs everything Iâm not strong enough to feel on my own.â
You knew exactly what he meant. Your explosive power wasn't just about anger. It was joy, it was sorrow, it was fear, it was love. It was every emotion, amplified to a destructive degree.
âI get it,â you said quietly. âOne time, I watched a movie. A really sad one. Cried so hard I blew a hole through my bedroom floor. My landlord was not thrilled.â
He finally looked up, a small, sad smile on his face. âI turned a whole city block into rubble because I got spooked by a helicopter.â
It was a strange, twisted form of bonding. You were two sides of the same coin, cursed with power you never asked for, terrified of the person you became when you lost control.
The true test came during a mission. Heavy fire kept you and Bruce trapped behind a crumbling wall of concrete. You could feel the panic rising, a cold dread that made your skin prickle with dangerous heat. This was it. You were going to lose it, and you were going to take Bruce with you.
âHey, look at me,â Bruce grabbed your shoulders, forcing you to meet his eyes. âItâs okay. Let it go.â
âWhat?â you gasped, your vision blurring. âIâll kill you!â
âNo, you wonât,â You could see it now, the flicker of green in his eyes and the strain in his jaw. âHe wonât let you. And youâŠyou canât hurt him. So just let go. Give âem hell.â
His trust was a lifeline. You stopped fighting and surrendered to your emotions. Yet, you didn't explode in a chaotic, uncontrollable burst of destruction. This time you aimed. A torrent of explosive energy erupted from you, obliterating the enemy's position.
When the dust settled, you were on your knees, your clothes smoking as the Hulk stood in front of you, completely unharmed. He looked down at you, then at the smoldering crater where the bad guys used to be. He let out a low grunt, then gently, so gently, patted you on the back with a hand the size of a car door.
It was enough to knock the wind out of you, but it didnât trigger a thing. His skin was too dense, his biology too alien to be affected by the heat of your body.
Later, when Bruce was back, bruised but himself, he found you sitting on the roof, staring at the city lights. âYou didnât lose control completely.
âYou told me I could,â your voice was hoarse. âYou werenât scared.â
âWhy would I be?â he bumped his shoulder against yours. âYouâre the only person on this planet I donât have to be afraid of accidentally hurting. And Iâm the only person you donât have to be afraid of, either.â
