So Can We Start Hunting Down White Liberals Now Or What

so can we start hunting down white liberals now or what

Reblog for Good luck🙏🏼

I drew Mordin and my Shepard! Took me 2 days to draw and color this uwu I'm so proud of myself QwQ

This Shepard is Non-binary masc, and aroace! UwU

Put your height in the tags

*walks into your McDonald's* hi can I get the McTosterone with a small McEstro-block, please? *Slides you a 100$ bill*

I WORK AT MCDONALDS AND I PUT ESTROGEN PILLS IN THE HAPPY MEALS

[dni minors, dni blogs that have no 18+ age listed in their bio] astarion x trans man! reader/tav /// smut, dysphoria comfort, reader's chest is un-described and untouched, reader has a vulva, soft dom top astarion, bottom reader

whenever there's a day when you feel off, wrong, you're hyper aware of your body and how it doesn't feel right to you, he'll notice. perhaps not at first, but the way your posture is different, the way you reject and shy away from his touch, don't flush or scowl at his flirting.

it's late when he decides he has to ask you what's wrong, him not being used to having others to care about, to worry for.

"have i done something wrong?" his voice is quiet and yet it startles you from your thoughts.

"no? no, of course no," guilt festers in you. "i'm sorry."

"there's no need to apologise, darling. as i've been told by someone quite dear to me, there's nothing wrong with not wanting to be touched."

"it's not that. i do, i," you breathe. "i want you to touch me quite badly."

"then i don't understand."

his fingers twitch, wanting to reach for you as your eyes flicker to the mirror across the room.

"when you look at me... what do you see? that is, i mean... you could have anyone you wanted, and i know what you'll say to that. and i believe you. that you want me. i just, sometimes it's hard thinking about the men you've been with, hells just men in general, and then... how they compare to... me. because sometimes, sometimes it's hard to see myself as... as..."

you trail off, aware of your shaking breath, aware of the wetness on your eyelashes, aware that you want to bury yourself against him but find yourself scared.

just as you start to wonder if you've ruined something, his hands hover by your face, not touching, waiting. and so you nod, and his he cups his palms against your cheeks, tilting your head to look at him.

"my sweet boy."

those words and his voice make everything the smallest bit better, you hold back a sob and place your head into the crook of his neck. him calling you a boy both soothing and comforting, but also always slightly arouses you.

"you know i love you? exactly as you are, because of who you are."

"i know."

he raises one of your hands to his lips and kisses it.

"would you let me show you?"

he's not used to being so careful with someone else, not that he hasn't been gentle before but it's never been out of his own desire to cherish the person he's with. but perhaps he can understand, in his own way, feeling disconnected to your own body.

"you're such a handsome man, such a pretty boy. and aren't i ever so lucky. when i was a child i would fantasize about some dashing prince, but i could have never imagined i'd find one like you. you're far lovelier than any dream. you're real. and for some unknown reason managed to see something good in me. you're the most incredible person i've ever met, and i'm going to help you see that."

your shirt stays on if you wish it, as much as he loves every inch of your body, and will continue to regardless of if it stays as it is, or if parts of it change. but he wants you to be comfortable.

he kisses you, trailing down from your lips to your neck, never meaning to get carried away there but always does. you find it hard to mind though as he kisses, teeth nipping but not drinking, leaving faint little marks. he likes leaving marks on you, a reminder that you're here, that you're proud to be with him.

his hands slide down your sides, over your stomach, they pull at the laces of your trousers, sliding them off you legs, leaving your bottom half bare, waiting for his attention.

you flush as he maintains eye contact with you as he slides a hand under your ankle, then down your leg as his mouth moves with it, kissing you calf, next to your knee, up your thigh. and if there's more to grab there, he reveals in it, adoring any curves, your softness. he pauses when he reaches the top of your thigh and chuckles, smirks to himself

"such a sensitive boy, i haven't even touched you anywhere intimate yet and look," you gasped as he glides a couple of fingers between your folds and then holds them up. "already wet for me."

he slides his fingers back against you, teasing around you before thrusting in, curling them upwards as he lowers his head.

"we get be neglecting your cock can we darling? it's straining so hard. and just because it looks different than mine, doesn't make it less of a cock, does it?"

he stays blinking up at you until he realise he wants an answer and you shake your head no.

"good boy, that's right," he purrs and you want to feel condescended, but you just whine, flushing hot, wanting to be good for him, wanting to be his good boy, wanting him to call you that again. "and what shall we do with your pretty cock? shall i suck you off?"

you nod your head, eyes pleading with him and he laughs, not to make fun of you, but because your neediness, your eagerness for him endears him.

"very well then," his lips close around your cock, sucking and suctioning while his fingers continue to stroke inside you, your hands slip into his hair and tug accidentally and he moans around you.

"cheeky boy," he pulls back. "do you wish to come like this or..."

"fuck me," you say, and then. "please? please, astarion, i need you."

astarion always flushes when you tell him you need him. he slides up your body, "i suppose i shouldn't tease, you've been deprived of my touch all week, my poor boy thinking he didn't deserve this. don't worry, i'll fuck you like need."

his cock slips between you, holding you close, kissing your neck, hands stroking your waist as he pushes inside of you,

"that's it, such a good boy. always taking me so well," he loses control of his voice as he fucks you, murmuring praises as his hips snap against you, letting you tug him up to kiss you, pressing one of your hands down into the pillow so he can hold it.

he tells you that you're a good as you both come, he tells you that you're a good boy as you twitch, oversensitive, as he cleans you off, and he tells you that you're a good boy as you drift off in his arms.