#because it's not just about the pleasures of conformity

[jimraisedmeup]

TICK // 5.1 - how soon is now?

Rating: mature (homophobia, angst, language, sexual content)

Word Count: 2700

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I am the son And the heir Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar I am the son and heir Of nothing in particular

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December 1983 - junior year

Stepping off of the school bus with Robin close behind you, you immediately began scanning the Hawkins High parking lot for Eddie and his beat up van.

And there he was.

Leaning casually against the side of his van, one leg propped up on the tire. It was hard to miss the unusual creature that called himself Eddie Munson.

You tugged on Robin's backpack strap. "See you later, yeah? Cover for me with Mom and Dad if I'm not back by dinner," thinking for a moment, you laughed. "Actually, maybe consider calling Hopper if I mysteriously disappear after this."

Robin chuckled, "He does have a legitimate kidnapper's van. But hey, maybe he'll try to lure you in with free candy or puppies."

Sticking out her pinky finger to you, your sister hooked it around yours before saying goodbye.

Normally, you would exit the school bus each morning and look around for Nancy, or maybe Chrissy Cunningham, who you were friends with briefly in middle school. You used to look for Barb, too, with her glowing red hair and kind smile. 

You assumed Nancy was with Steve Harrington and their group. Lately, the popular crowd had been irking you, making the base of your skull ache with apprehension. The idea of them not being quality friends and judging you behind your back made you think of your parents. 

You did a lot of thinking in your spare time - about your family, school, stuff like that. You were naturally an overthinker. That's why you picked at your fingers so much.

Most of your thoughts that week were more focused on your social life, though, including the crazy-haired boy that stumbled into your line of attention by simply giving you a tattoo and being genuine.

You wanted that for yourself. You wanted to feel comfortable in your own skin. You wanted Robin to feel comfortable in her own skin, too. How long had they been conforming to the mold your parents put them in, for fear of chastisement? Or, in Robin's case, conversion therapy.

Shaking your head and vowing to start a new day, you meandered over to Eddie. You wondered if he would ever not look slightly shocked when you talked to him in public.

"Good morning, sunshine. To what do I owe the pleasure?" 

He sipped on a paper cup of what looked like black coffee, eyeing you through the steam that was coming off the hot liquid. You tried not to stare at his lips as he licked them.

"Wanna ditch school with me today?" you said quickly.

☾

You shut your mouth How can you say I go about things the wrong way?

☾

Ten minutes into driving and you were already bickering with each other. 

Eddie couldn't keep his mouth shut. And you couldn't stop your fiery temper from taking the bait.

"...all I'm saying is, I don't understand why you're friends with those jocks."

You huffed for what felt like the millionth time, looking out the window of his van. "And I told you already, I'm not really friends with them. Nancy, yeah, but not the guys."

"And why not?"

Eyes wide, you snapped a little. "You just asked me why I'm friends with them. Now you're asking me why I'm not?"

The grin on Eddie's face was contagious, apparently, almost making you smile back. His outrageous, carefree attitude reminded you of why you wanted to skip school with him to begin with.

"Fine, fine. New question."

"Great," you replied with heavy sarcasm.

"What about me?" Eddie kept his eyes on the road, but glanced your way for a split second. "Why the hell are we suddenly hanging out with each other?"

"Because I asked you to ditch school with me today," you replied simply. 

"Thanks, Captain Obvious, but you know what I meant."

The girl in his passenger seat thought for a minute or two, trying to find the right words. You knew he deserved some kind of explanation. Especially after kissing him out of nowhere at the party. Hell, he probably thought you were a typical popular kid playing a prank on him.

You picked absentmindedly at the stray fibers sticking out of the woven seat cover. 

"I dunno, I feel like I can trust you, in a way. Like you're not going to run off and tell the whole school all the juicy details."

"I don't kiss and tell, Buckley."

You waved in his direction. "Exactly. Thanks for not telling anyone about the tattoo, either."

Eddie seemed unusually serious for a moment. "No problem."

"You know, I'm sure it would take less than a day for Carol Perkins to spread rumors about me if she had the right ammo for it. She's always had it out for me. And I never did shit to her!"

The boy beside you chuckled. "It's because you're prettier than her. And a lot less annoying," he paused before adding one last comment. "Not to mention her boyfriend Tommy drools over you every chance he gets."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. You never noticed?"

"Well… no. He's a douchebag."

The van was at a stoplight in the middle of downtown. Though the weather was bitterly cold, you could still see shoppers walking along the storefronts.

"So, I've recently come into some money," Eddie began. "Ten whole dollars to be exact. What do you think about grabbing some hot chocolate?"

The corners of your lips lifted into a smile. "Sure."

He rounded the corner, pulling up to the nearly empty small diner. 

Over two cups of hot chocolate, with extra whipped cream for you, the two teenagers chatted happily. 

It felt natural for you. For the first time since you could remember, you felt comfortable. Your sharp edges softened. The wall you had built up to shield your heart was still standing strong, but there was a tiny window on it that you allowed Eddie Munson to peer through.

You learned about the love he had for his guitar, the dreams he had for his future in the music business. You learned, sadly, that he didn't get along with his dad and that his mother left when Eddie was just a kid.

And most importantly, he made you laugh. Usually, Robin was the only one who could do that. But the difference between Eddie and Robin was that you had the natural urge to protect your little sister. You didn't burden Robin with any more stress than she already had to deal with. 

With Eddie, you looked at him as an equal, and maybe you didn't have to hide your deep, dark thoughts. 

A few hours later, you both made your way back to Eddie's van.

"You know, I've never driven a car before."

The leather-clad boy stopped dead in his tracks, one pale hand resting on the hood of the van.

"Come again?"

"I can't drive. No one's ever taught me," you tugged on the passenger side door handle. "Pick your jaw up off the floor and unlock the van! I'm freezing, dingus."

Finally inside with the heat blasting through the old vents, Eddie turned to you as you rubbed your hands together furiously. 

"Well, there's only one thing left to do now."

For a second, seeing the look on his mischievous face, you were scared that he was going to kiss you. Well, scared was the wrong word. 

You definitely wanted to kiss him again. A part of you wanted to re-do the first kiss. It shouldn't have been a quick peck on the lips in the dark, only for you to run away afterwards. You figured it was a necessity to get the first kiss over with, though. Now, you wanted another one, but maybe with a bit more... romance? 

Ugh, you thought inwardly. Romantic wasn't a word to describe you or Eddie fucking Munson.

But he didn't kiss you. He reached a calloused finger towards you and booped you on the nose like a little kid.

"I'm gonna teach you how to drive, Buckley."

☾

I am human and I need to be loved Just like everybody else does

☾

"Slow down! Pump the brakes."

"I'm trying!"

"The hell you're not!"

"Stop being an ass! We're fine."

Eddie spoke deliberately, face calm. "Put your foot on the brakes before you kill the both of us."

He was just giving you shit, because in reality, you were just fine. He took you to a large abandoned factory that had an expansive parking lot to practice driving in. There was nothing even slightly close for you to crash into.

If Eddie was being totally honest, the sight of a woman, specifically you, behind the wheel of his beloved van was enough to drive him wild. After spending nearly an entire day with the spunky Buckley girl, his spank bank was overflowing.

He never even let Gareth or any of his friends drive the van. Besides his guitar, it was his most prized possession.

He couldn't possibly pass up the opportunity to teach you how to drive. It was like taking someone’s virginity - it can only be done to a person once. Eddie felt honored to be the first to teach you, even if he never ended up being any other firsts for you. But he had to slap those thoughts into oblivion as his jeans suddenly felt tight, causing him to sigh and fog up the window beside him.

What better than a day of hooky, hot chocolate, and reckless driving?

After a while of cruising at an insane speed of five miles per hour, you seemed to get more comfortable with pressing gently on the gas pedal and then alternating to the brakes. You were pretty good with the steering but your lead foot needed Jesus.

You slowed to a complete stop, shifting into park. "See? I told you we were fine."

"Hey, I just gotta look out for my precious… Brenda here," Eddie replied, rubbing his hand on the sun-bleached dashboard.

You stared at the boy, a smile tickling your lips. "Did you just make up that name?"

He tried to keep a straight face, but busted out laughing. "Yeah, I don't know. It was the first one I could think of. The van doesn't really have a name."

Eddie couldn't remember the last time he was in such a good mood. 

"Well, she has a name now. Brenda." 

You looked around, both of your hands still on the wheel. Your wandering eyes inspected the radio, then drifted towards Eddie. The look in your eyes was mysterious to him.

"What are you thinking?" he asked.

You chewed on your lip, staring out the window towards the decrepit factory in front of you. "Nothing, really. Just a lot of firsts for me lately."

A knot formed in his stomach as your words mirrored his earlier thoughts. Curiosity taking hold of him, he couldn’t help but pry. "Like…?"

You had a neurotic habit of picking at things when you tried to explain serious business. He watched patiently as you scratched at the peeling paint on the driver's side door.

"Driving, obviously. Skipping school. That was kinda my first… kiss the other day, too."

If you were ever planning to tell him this information without him asking, Eddie would never know. But he was shocked. He let out a quick, unintentional laugh. He didn't mean for it to sound rude... but the words were already spilling out.

"You're fucking with me, right?"

He sounded very rude.

You looked suddenly defensive. "Yes, Eddie, I'm lying to your face." Your voice dripped with sarcasm and your eyes turned cold.

"Back it up, sunshine. I'm not making fun of you," he rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "But, like, why? Why me? If it's 'cause you were drinking, I totally understand if it was a mistak-"

"No," you interrupted firmly, "Not a mistake." And then you went silent.

Looking again at the clock on the radio, you unbuckled your seatbelt and climbed out. 

"I've got to get home soon. I don't want my parents to know I ditched."

"Won't the school call them since you didn't show up?"

"Probably, but they've been at work all day. They don't usually get home until after my sister and I get off the bus."

Trading seats with you in the van, Eddie followed your directions and drove you home. He felt a little insecure at the sight of your nice, perfectly maintained middle class home. He worried that you would have a conniption fit at the sight of the house he shared with his father.

"Thanks for everything today, Eddie Munson."

He stared at you, wondering what was going through your mind. But instead of inquiring, he let you go. You waved a quick goodbye at the brown-eyed boy before disappearing into the house.

☾

I am the son And the heir Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar I am the son and heir Of nothing in particular

☾

"Bless us, oh Lord, and these gifts which we are about to receive from your bounty. Through Christ our Lord we pray, Amen."

Dinnertime in the Buckley household was underway. From what you could tell, your parents had no clue that you skipped school that day. Shoveling mashed potatoes onto her plate, your mother looked at you and Robin.

"So, girls, tell us about your day."

You both exchanged identical looks before your parents could notice something was off. The eldest Buckley daughter responded with haste.

"My day was good. Not much homework with winter break coming up."

Your mother smiled at you. "I'm so excited for Father Humphrey's service on Christmas Eve. Aren't you, Richard?"

Grumbling something about being up late on a holiday, her father shrugged. "How about you, Robin? Did anything interesting happen at school today?"

You could see the internal battle in Robin's head, trying to think of a proper thing to say. 

"Oh, yeah. I was selected to do a new song in band. So I practiced that a lot today."

Melissa Buckley giggled. "That's great news, Robin. A solo? You're so talented, sweetie."

"No, not a solo. More of a… duet."

"And who is the lucky boy, dear?"

You knew that the duet was with a girl, which is the main reason why Robin was so excited about it to begin with. But Robin knew the protocol.

"Uh, Kevin… Kevin Brown." Totally made up name.

Your father finally spoke, his mouth full of food. "See, Y/N, why aren't you more like your sister? If you keep avoiding boys, the whole town is going to think you're one of those… homosexuals."

"Richard!" your mother scolded, straightening up in her chair.

"What? You know I'm right. The girl is seventeen. Prom is coming up. I've never heard a single boy's name come out of her mouth. She spends too much time with that Wheeler girl, and you know they're a bunch of sinners."

Resisting the urge to flip the entire fucking table, you remained stone-faced as you responded. You could feel Robin kicking your leg underneath the table.

"Actually, father, I have plans with a boy this week."

He snorted. "Is that so?"

You politely dabbed your mouth with the expensive cotton napkin, face red with silent anger, then stood up from your chair.

"Yes, and he agreed to teach me how to drive. So maybe I can get my license in the spring."

Your mother set down her silverware. "Darling, is that really necessary? What's this boy's name?"

"Eddie Munson."

Slam.

Richard Buckley pounded a fist on the table, then pointed at you. "I forbid this. You know what kind of reputation that family has. His father is a drunk and a heathen."

"Please…" Robin pulled on the edge of your shirt. Not worth it, she mouthed at you.

You looked your father directly into his eyes, the color so much like your own. But he didn't back down.

"I forbid this, Y/N," he repeated coolly. "If I see you with that Munson boy, you'll be spending your entire senior year in a private school, where you can focus on your studies and repent."

☾

When you say it's gonna happen now When exactly do you mean? See I've already waited too long And all my hope is gone

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(song lyrics credit: "How Soon Is Now?" by The Smiths)

TAGLIST for this series if you would like to be notified when I post new chapters!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddiemunson #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #eddie munson slow burn #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x buckley!reader

[velmatv]

Huey Lewis & The News - 'Hip To Be Square' - 1987

#Hip to be Square #huey lewis and the news #1987 #80s music #rock #pop #fore! #In '87 #Huey released this #Fore #their most accomplished album. I think their undisputed masterpiece is #a song so catchy #that most people probably don't listen to the lyrics. But they should #because it's not just about the pleasures of conformity #and the importance of trends #it's also a personal statement about the band itself. HEY PAUL #TRY GETTING A TABLE AT DORSIA NOW #Youtube

[sorrelpaws]

No but American Psycho is *genuinely* a good film/satire/dark comedy. I do get tired of people thinking media is cringe just because idiot dudebros misinterpret it. I'm not gonna stop enjoying good films/books/tv shows just because they happen to like them too. (People need to stop GIVING them good things just because they misinterpret them. People need to stop letting them win!) This attitude is tiresome. So yeah, basically I agree with your tags on your reblog lol.

thisnis such a based and redpilled take BECAUSE YEAH american psycho is a legitimately good movie, but because of its reputation in memes and within pretentious filmbro circles, it kind of gets misinterpreted. WHICH IS A SHAME !!! especially since i also initially fell into the "this is the meme movie lol" group. i like it and ive memorised the part where patrick talks about the huey album

#asks #american psycho #in 87 huey released this fore their most accomplished album i think their undisputed masterpiece is hip to be square a song so catchy most #people probably dont listen to the lyrics but they should because its not just about the pleasures of conformity or the importance of trend #its also a personal statement about the band itself hey paul #<<<< typed this out off the top of my head btw no flex but also you neeedd to be inpressed by this and by me

[katya-goncharov]

I think I might have got my first ever equivalent of a "pleasure to have in class" report today

#i had my last shift together with the manager at my job who did all my performance reviews #and it was obvious he didn't really know what to say to me as a goodbye because i barely ever say anything or make conversation and he #probably didn't really feel like he knew me very well so he just awkwardly went ''well. it's been a pleasure to have you'' #anyway it's just funny to me because usually i hate those posts about neurodivergent people always being a pleasure to have in class because #when i was at school i was very much not that (one teacher told me in front of the class once that i was the WORST pupil she'd ever taught) #but i guess this means I've finally successfully learned to Mask and Conform? and i only had to sacrifice my entire personality for it 🙃

[hoffmanstits-enjoyer]

y'all think jeremiah cries while jerking off to memories of his twin because I certainly do, nothing hits better than painful longing and guilt over your repressed desires with a side of secret indulgence.

#valeskacest #gotham #jeremiah valeska #jerome valeska #twinleska #there's something about jeremiah secretly hating his own choices in the briefest moments #refusing to blame himself for any regrets maybe? #the blame is on jerome #on the circus #on their mother #but never on jeremiah because if it is then he made himself miserable #and wasn't that what he accused jerome of? #making his own life so much harder by refusing to conform #to try and be better like jeremiah did! #character studying over self pleasuring yay #i just love tragedy ig <3 #my headcanon

[eddiesxangel]

Just A Pinch |Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: you get your nipples pierced and surprise Eddie. Requested by @jordynyingling0219 🤗.

Cw: smut 18+ minors go away. Nipple play (obviously), eddie worships your tits, Boob job, dirty talk, pet names, fingering.

Not having Eddie touching yours boobs for about a month was one of the hardest things you had to avoid when you came up with your little plan to surprise him with new nipple piercings. He was always at you, holding your boobs even if it wasn’t for anything sexual. He just found them conforming.

So when you jerked your body away the first time he reached for you he thought you were mad at him. He wracked his brain for anything that he could have done to piss you off, however he came up empty… He bought you apology flowers just to be safe. Your heart yearned for him, you hated that he thought he had done something wrong. You promised you weren’t mad of him but you still didn’t let him touch your soar sensitive nipples regardless. You were sticking with the plan because you knew the reaction would be so worth it.

The second week you had sex but refused to let him see or touch them again. You blamed PMS and said they were too sensitive to be played with this week. Eddie let it go in the moment because he was so deep in your pussy to care. In the back of his mind he was still unsure what your deal was.

The third week you had actually gotten your period so he knew to back off. He knew your breast were so sensitive this time of month so he didn’t even think about it.

The fourth week you were gnawing at the bit to show him. You were so close to the finish line. You had been so regimented with your daily cleaning, and the swelling and soreness had finally subsided, that on the Friday you decided it had been enough time to let Eddie have his way with your tits.

“Baby! I need your help!” You fake cried as you lay completely naked on the bed.

You hear the frantic footsteps of your boyfriend come down the hall to your shared bedroom and you can’t help but giggle quietly with excitement.

“What-woah” Eddie froze in his tracks briefly before he took action. There you were laid out for him on a silver platter for the taking. “What’s gotten into you little minx?” He smirked before crawling his way up the bed to you with a look in his eye that you knew you were in for it tonight.

You hadn’t been fully naked in front of Eddie for a month. And god he missed being with you, especially your boobs. He needed that skin to skin connection and he missed using them as a pillow and and something to put in his mouth.

He was half way up your body when he stopped in his tracks. The low mood lighting you had set caught something shiny and reflective on your chest. As Eddie’s eyes fully scanned you you couldn’t help but bite your lip. You needed to just observe his reaction, you waiting long enough.

“What the fuck? Did you-!?-How did-?! When?!” Eddie was shocked to see your nipples adorned with two ruby red jewels on each side of your hard nipples.

“Do you like it?” You couldn’t tell if he did or not.

“Is this why you’ve been hiding from me?” He avoided the question.

You slowly nodded your head yes and Eddie’s eyes finally snapped away from your boobs to your face.

“God you’re perfect, what did I do to deserve you?” He leaned in to kiss you, hard and you let out a moan of pleasure.

“So you like it?” You asked one more time.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuu-uuu-uuu-uck” he drew out “I love them, I didn’t think they could get any prettier.” He leaned down to examine more. He took each breast in his hands to get a closer look.

“Do they hurt?” He asked as he gently lifted them.

“Not anymore” you sighed. They are more sensitive if anything.

“Oh baby we are about to have so much fun” Eddie was mischievous.

Eddies tongue tentatively flicked your already hard nipple and a soft moan slipped from your lips. That only encouraged Eddie. As he suckled your nipple he could taste the cool metal bar.

The way Eddie was worshiping your body only shot a a wave of pleasure through to your core. He was making you feel so good you wanted to return the favour.

“Babyyyyy” you moaned.

“What! Oh my god! Did I hurt you sweetheart?” He jerked back up.

“No” you cooed “I wanna do something for you” You smirked.

“Baby I think you’ve given me enough.” He cupped your breast again, rubbing each nipple with his thumbs, playing.

“Please” you pout “you’ll really like it.” You sat up and crawled closer to him.

You slipped your hand up Eddie’s shirt and pulled it up over his head. You then stripped him of his pants and boxers letting his throbbing cock pop out.

“What did you have in mind honey?” Eddie asked.

“Sit on the edge of the bed for me.” You instructed as you got off the bed and knelt down infront of him. You then reached into the night stand drawer and got out you lube. Eddie gave you a confused look but you told him to trust you so he did.

You squeezed the slippery liquid into your hand to warm it up before sliding it up and down the soft velvety skin of his long thick cock.

Eddie let out a grunt when your hands made contact with his shaft. He observed you, still confused, as you sat up and adjusted to sit directly between his legs. You took his cock and placed it between your breasts. Eddie’s brain just about short circuited as he watched you envelop his cock between your two breasts.

“Fuck you’re perfect.” He sat back and watched you as you worked your boobs up and down his cock. The soft warm delicate skin of your boobs, mixed with the sight of your decorated nipples was making him wanna bust right then and there, but then you dipped your head down to take the tip in your mouth and he embarrassingly came right then and there.

“Mmmmm” you hummed with a smile as you swallowed him down.

“Fuck baby you’re killing me” he huffed as he caught his breath.

“I’m glad you like them” you giggle.

“Like them?! Fuck baby I love them” Eddie growled as he helped you stand up and took your nipple back in his mouth.

You threw your head back with pleasure as Eddie massaged each breast with his hands and mouth.

“Eddie” you moan

“What is it you want baby?”

“You” you gasp as his fingers found your clit.

You cupped his head trapping his mouth on your nipples. His fingers worked your swollen clit before slipping in a finger. Your knees buckled and Eddie chuckled darkly at the effect he had on you.

“You like that? My dirty girl.” He looked up at you with his big puppy dog eyes.

“You know I do! Dont stop!” You cried as the feeling of pleasure built up up up, his fingers hitting each and every right spot until you broke.

You crumbled as you came on Eddie’s fingers.

“That’s my goodgirl” he continued to work your pussy as you rode out your high.

“I didn’t think sex could get any better you laughed.

“Oh we are just getting started darling”

#Eddie Munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie Munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x afab reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson x plus size reader #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fic #eddie munson fan fic

[roseykat]

TITLE: SKZ members as submissives

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSWF SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.

SUMMARY: An OT8 blurb of how each of the members are as subs.

TAGS: sub!skz members, implied dom!reader not necessarily gender specific, mentions of sex, orgasms, humiliation, edging, collars, leashes, spitting, nipple play, implied brat behaviour, praise, choking, gagging.

MASTERLIST

A/N: my next work that will be uploaded after this is Venom Eater! Also trying out a new layout for when I do OT8 blurbs…

This man is 50/50. He can be so good for you by letting you use him in the ways that you want and then be a devious, disobedient little upstart if you look away for one second. If he’s in that type of state, expect him to whine to you about what it is that he wants; ‘make me cum~’, ‘but I need you to use me,’ ‘need to get off on you, please.’

Denying him is always so fun because he gets so teary eyed and agitated. At that point, he’ll cave. He is strong, but when his needs are being compromised, Chan will see your instructions through to the end. Whether it’s to use his mouth for your own pleasure, his cock, fingers, whatever part of his body you see fit to seek an orgasm out of, he will make it happen as reparation.

A sub that can be a full on stubborn brat who won’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Trying to get him to listen is like pulling teeth and it can take a lot to strip Minho back into a conforming, incoherent mess. Overstimulation usually does the trick, bc he gets what he wants at first then realises he’s bitten off too much that he can chew and finds himself running into multiple orgasms bc you keep getting him hard enough to make him cum.

You like showing him how much cum he’s dribbled out of his stiff yet sore cock just by lifting up your hand, forcing him to see your palm glisten in white. Seeing it is like a slap of humiliation to him which paints a nice deep red blush across his cheeks.

A very sensitive sub that can only handle being touched so much. Edging works so well that it’s almost always part of the bedroom routine. You try to utilise it in order to see his strong, taut body writhing, and to hear him moan out ‘please, wanna cum so bad. Can’t take it anymore.’ Just hearing him say that invites you to cuff his hands to the bedpost so that he doesn’t try touching himself when you refuse him from orgasming.

The one thing that he absolutely cannot take is watching you get yourself off. Therefore, in the instance where you do attach him to the headboard, you peel yourself right off of his body and get into a position where he can see you make yourself cum. Whether it’s by your fingers, a vibrator, a dildo, whatever it takes to make him see what he’s missing out on, is a form of torture to him.

Obedient when he wants to be, but for the most part, he will let you use him whenever you want because Hyunjin is too in love with you not to. He likes having a collar fixed around his throat with a leash attached while you get him to fuck you in positions where he may appear ‘on top’ but you still have every degree of control over him.

He’s a relatively messy sub as well but adorns it with pride. Sometimes he cries from overstimulation, drools when you gag him with your fingers, chin and nose wet from you using his face, and will leak a decent amount of precum when you edge him. All in all, he’s versatile to use especially when he wants you to.

Is a sub that requires a lot more attention than most. He is very needy and reactive to the things he allows you to do to him. However, Jisung does explore when it comes to new kinks but to him, nothing beats just getting absolutely fucked. That being said, this man is a pillow prince. You have to put in all the effort - which you don’t mind, but there comes a time where you make Jisung work for it.

If that’s the case, he gets all whiny, mopey, and annoyed because he doesn’t want to ride you - he wants you to fuck him. He gets so stubborn that sometimes he’ll prep himself, fingering his hole even though it’s not nearly as satisfying as when you’re involved. In the end, he will end up riding you, but either very lazily or angrily.

Is everyone’s darling, innocent, and placid submissive that they just want to ruin. Whatever it is that you want to try, Felix is for it. He wants to please you and make you happy. He’s a sub who needs a lot of praise and boy does he deserve it because he’ll let you fuck him, let you clamp his nipples, spit in his mouth, edge him, a combination of all if not more of these activities - you name it.

Sometimes you have to remind Felix that he doesn’t have to do the things you suggest to him, that there are alternatives also or that he just doesn’t have to do it at all. But he always, always assures you that he does. He likes to experiment with you in bed but also wants to test his own limits while achieving pleasure.

Seungmin can be a very hard sub to work with at times. He has the ability to use his words as a weapon, yet sadly, it’s a double edged sword because it does come back and bite him in the ass when you clock him for his behaviour. So if he tries to trip you up with his words when you’re in full dom mode, saying things such as, ‘are you sure about that?’ ‘What makes you think I can’t take it?’ etc, you know how to handle him - with a ball gag.

It limits his supply of verbal daggers and plea bargains that you never bother considering bc he stepped on your last nerve. Another way to get him to shut up is if you use his face. But, his reset button - something that forces him to switch up is by telling him that he’s a ‘good boy’. He gets all flustered and embarrassed but he loves hearing that type of praise from you.

Jeongin starts off as a seemingly disobedient sub, almost leaning towards being a brat, then will slot right into his place of being submissive when you ramp things up in bed. Therefore, it’s easy to snap him out of that phase by threatening that he’s not going to get what he wants - no head, you won’t fuck him or you won’t let him fuck you. When those stakes are on the line, he straightens his act out and behaves.

As a sub, Jeongin is into many things but has a particular interest for shibari. He likes the intricacy of the many different ways in which you can bind his body, the tight feeling of the rope around his muscles, and how it shapes his body well. That’s only if he’s behaved himself well.

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know smut #han jisung smut #bang chan smut #hyunjin smut #changbin smut #felix smut #i.n smut

[on-leatheredwings]

Dress Up 18+

Tim Drake / GN! Reader

romantic, 18+ summary: You put Tim in a maid outfit. He doesn't think much of it... at first. tw/cw: handjobs, crossdressing word count: 888 a/n: something short and sweet to celebrate 400 follows!

A week ago you said you wanted to try dressing up. While this wasn’t what Tim had in mind, he is not complaining. 

Thirty minutes ago you had shyly traced circles on his chest, asking if he was in the mood tonight. Honestly, forgoing any Gotham-typical imminent disasters, Tim was rarely not in the mood, especially if you were going to act as cute as that. He had just started to lean in, smirking, when you slipped out of his grip effortlessly, flew into your shared closet, and came out with two maid dresses in hand. And cat ears.

And a bell.

Tim honestly had felt neutral about it all. He’s done worse. Weirder. This was actually kind of whatever, but if you liked it, then sure, he was down.

He was neutral about it all until you both were dressed. Until both of you were fitted, you choosing to finish your outfit with gloves and him slipping into the thigh-high stockings you threw at him with puppy-dog eyes.

Now you stalk around him in a circle, admiring your handiwork. Your fingers drift along his body as you appraise him. His cock twitches. Tim shifts the weight on his feet, assured it was from the appeal of imminent sex.

“You look so pretty, Tim,” you say from behind him. A small jingle chimes from below his chin – you just poked his bell. He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing against the velvety ribbon keeping it around his neck. 

“Um... You do too,” he says, mind suddenly sparse. He didn’t know what else to say to your compliment. Oh, perhaps he should’ve said thank you. Tim swallows again – why is his mouth so dry? And why is he feeling shy?

“Not as good as you,” you return, voice still low with awe. Your hands land on his frilly-sleeved shoulders, run down his firm arms. They sweep to brush against his nipples through the fabric, and he flinches with a sharp inhale. The dress fits perfectly, conforming to his flat chest. It’s identical to yours, likely part of a matching set. A couple’s set.

You move him in front of the bedroom mirror, bidding him forward as he awkwardly obeys. Once he’s in place to your liking, Tim stiffens at the sight of his reflection. His cheeks are red. It’s unmistakable, with his paleness. His eyes peek through his lashes because his head is dipping down. Though more lean than muscled, Tim’s body is quite masculine. It contrasts pleasantly with the softness of the costume that is entirely frills, lace, and ribbons. Tim’s eyes wander down. The white stockings really make him appreciate the silhouette of his legs, too. He blinks, wetting his lips.

… He really likes how he looks.

Belatedly he registers that you stand behind him, looking like an utter vision yourself. He doesn’t get much time to admire you when your hands slip under his dress, glancing past his naked thighs to wrap around his building erection. 

He lets out a gasp, head turning to the side to make eye contact with you.

“Ah-ah-ah,” you scold sweetly. You peck a chaste kiss on his lips, before gesturing to the mirror. “Eyes there.”

Tim obeys, hands fisted now that you’re slowly jerking him to a full erection. Over the next few minutes, he watches you pump him. It’s such a lewd sight. Peeking from under the frilled hem of a very short maid’s outfit is his flushed cock weeping pearls of cum over your gloved hand. Anytime Tim reaches back to touch you, give you any sort of pleasure, you simply guide his hand away with your remaining one, kissing at his neck and his ears. 

Tim can feel the coil of heat inside him build. “I’m going to… I’m gonna… mmf,” he pants. He’s fully squirming in your embrace, shifting weight from foot to foot. He looks like his legs are going to give out, but they never do. He bites his lip and can’t manage to keep staring at his blushing, whimpering reflection.

“Cum for me, Tim,” you breathe, more than just a little turned on. 

Tim does, his head thrown back as he gasps for breath through an orgasm. He sprays a few ropes of cum onto the mirror, to your delight. Three deep breaths, plenty of shudders later, and he dazedly returns to planet Earth, your hand still at the base of his cock.

“That… that was…” he says, breathless.

“Titillating? Fulfilling? Enlightening?” you offer, giddy. 

You knew he’d like it. You knew there was a submissive and breedable man somewhere in there, as the youth say. You would just have to coax it out.

Tim’s lips quirk. He turns around, gripping you by the wrists and playfully tossing you onto your bed. He pins you down, on all fours above you.

“Hm. Maybe,” he says cheekily, as if you hadn’t just made him finish thirty seconds ago. His face is still red and his temples are damp with a fine layer of sweat. “But now it’s my turn.”

You pause, blink at him cutely, and look at him with a pitiful smile. ‘Oh, you sweet summer child,’ your expression says. “Aw,” you say. Your hands sneak around him, hiking up his skirt to palm his bare ass. “Baby, we’re far from done.”

#tim drake x reader #tim drake #mine

[vampirecorleone]

"Do you like Huey Lewis and The News?" | "They're okay." | "Their early work was a little too new wave for my tastes, but when Sports came out in '83, I think they really came into their own, commercially and artistically. The whole album has a clear, crisp sound, and a new sheen of consummate professionalism that really gives the songs a big boost. He's been compared to Elvis Costello, but I think Huey has a far more bitter, cynical sense of humor." | "Hey Halberstram." | "Yes, Allen?" | "Why are there copies of the style section all over the place, d-do you have a dog? A little chow or something?" | "No, Allen." | "Is that a raincoat?" | "Yes it is! In '87, Huey released this, Fore, their most accomplished album. I think their undisputed masterpiece is "Hip to be Square", a song so catchy, most people probably don't listen to the lyrics. But they should, because it's not just about the pleasures of conformity, and the importance of trends, it's also a personal statement about the band itself. Hey Paul! TRY GETTING A RESERVATION AT DORSIA NOW, YOU FUCKING STUPID BASTARD! YOU, FUCKING BASTARD!"

American Psycho (2000) dir. Mary Harron

#American Psycho #horroredit #userhorroredits #dailyhorrorfilms #classichorrorfilms #classichorrorblog #horrorfilmgifs #userbrittany #horrormovies #horrorgifs #horrorfilms #gif #mine #made by me #photoset #gifs #gifset #moviegifs #filmgifs #filmedit #filmdaily #tvandfilmdaily #dailytvfilmgifs #cinemapix #doyouevenfilm #fyeahmovies #dailyflicks #moviehub #filmcentral #junkfooddaily

[chao-thicc-hcs]

Sex with them. [2]

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Damn, didn't expect the first one to get so much attention-

Anyways, there you all go, second one. ~

genre(s): smut

warnings: it is sex, expect everything lmfao

characters: kakucho hitto, ran haitani, ken ryuguji - requested, rindou haitani, taiju shiba (my choice)

ALL CHARACTERS ARE 20+. MINORS DNI

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Ran loves bondage. Enjoys seeing you all tied up and unable to do anything to him, and he usually takes it from behind, and there will always be a mirror in front of both of you, so he can utterly humiliate the way your face contorts and how weak you look under him. Ran loves sucking on a lollipop, or just in general something sweet, gather saliva in his mouth, make you stick out your tongue, and let a long, thick streak of his saliva to go down your tongue and then the core of your mouth. He is fast and stable, almost never changing his pace, making you unable to form a coherent sentence and he knows it. Mf will ask you to scream his name, but at the same time will increase the pace the moment you open your mouth, stopping your breath and mocking you for being unable to talk. He enjoys every position, as long as there's latex, chains, or just in general bondage involved.

Draken likes to fuck you on his customers' bikes. He'd be like "Hey babe, check out this beauty I have to fix right here, let's fuck on it, eh?". Man will make sure you squirt onto its seat before he starts working on it. He will have the biggest grin when he finally returns the motorcycle to the customer. Regardless, Draken enjoys a nice rough sex with some music playing in the background. A huge fan of stockings and skirts, so expect frequent requests from him to be fucked while wearing them. He loves to stick his cock in you while you're cooking something, or just bending over to put the clothes in the washing machine. No matter how rough he is, he will not dare to slap you, nor pull your hair unless you beforehand tell him it is okay. He loves you giving him head, and what makes him nut instantly is when you choke or ruin your mascara while sucking on it. Mans a sucker for titties so his favourite positions would be anything that has your tits shoved in his face.

Kakucho loves to leave you hanging. He would play with your pussy for hours then just leave you there overstimulated, whimpering and begging for him. Or he would send suggestive pictures while at work and then come home and act like nothing happened. He would eventually hit, though. He loves you sitting on his face, suffocating him with your thighs when he eats you out, and he is most of the time quiet, so he can hear the skin slapping of your thighs on his hips and your moans better. He will let an occasional groan here and there. Uses toys, definitely. He has these vibrators that he loves putting on you and constantly change the intensity of vibrations when in public with you, enjoying your surprised face, chokers with his name on it, handcuffs, you name it. He might be a tease but always conforms to your wishes of what his pace should be - fast, rough, slow, you name it. Deffo takes pictures of you covered in his seed, or just him inside of you while your mouth is wide-open from pleasure. Favourite position is missionary, because he enjoys a full view of you.

Rindou is surprisingly, very vocal with you. He will whisper all kinds of praises, telling you how amazing you are and how he doesn't want this to end. But at the same time he will tease you even during sex and about everything you do. He will tease you about your expressions, moans and shit, but will apologize if you get offended, quickly goes back to praising you, tho. Man will get so overstimulated he will bite. Your shoulders and neck are always covered with thick, purple bruises from his lips. He enjoys ruining your make up. Sometimes he would ask you to put heavy make up on so he could ruin it completely by making you cry from overstimulation. His favourite is when you're on the phone with your parents and he slides his cock in you, smirking at your poor attempts to be quiet. He enjoys savouring the moment and is usually slow and sensual, but he won't be fast, even when you ask him, because he's petty as hell and wants you to groan in frustration or at least beg him, or call him daddy, one of those. His favourite position is lotus, because he adores hugging you and biting you.

Taiju fucks you with utmost passion. It is almost unreal. Many think he manhandles you, but he sees sex as something more than sticking his cock inside of you. His appreciation towards you is contained even in his thrusts, and he always savours the moments, making them last for more than 2 hours. His hands traverse your entire figure, and in between moans, he tells you how lucky he is to have you, how gorgeous you are. He buys you expensive night gowns and enjoys fucking you in them. The way the fabric wraps around your figure makes him go insane, and he enoys to touch the silk fabric during sex. He doesn't slap, but squeezes your boobs, thighs, ass with power, leaving bruises, or crescent marks from his nails. If he slaps it will hurt more than it should, so he majority of the time he's containing himself. He groans and grunts most of the time, but surpresses his own moans so he could hear yours better. His favourite position is doggystyle, but your back pressed to his, so he could wrap his big hands around you and feel your boobs.

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idk i am horny lmfao©

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo rev headcanons #tokyo rev #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo rev smut #ran haitani #haitani ran #tokyo rev rindou #haitani rindou #rindou haitani #taiju x y/n #taiju shiba #taiju smut #shiba taiju #draken #ken ryuguji #ken ryuuguji x you #ryuguji ken x reader #ryuguji ken #kakucho hitto #hitto kakucho #smut

[vermilionpearls]

❤️‍🔥 PAC: Dirty (+18) and sexual letter from your future spouse❤️‍🔥

This PAC includes their explicit letter, a song, and a quote.

I swear to God that if you are not of age and you read this, your guides will bother you and give such headache that you will have to take a nap that lasts, at least, 4 hours.

@vermilionpearls is @pearl-tarotist NSFT (+18) blog!

“Lean in to kiss me in all the places where the ache is the most special.” ( Sanober Khan)

PILE 1

(5oC -10oP – Page of Cups – Page of Swords – 4oC – 5oW – The Lovers)

“I hate to see you with someone else. It pains me to see you with others and I hate even more that you are willing to put your attention on them. You make me so jealous and mad; I hate your indifference and I just want to make you mine. I want to mark you and make you realize you are mine.

I hate the fact that we are away from each other and that I must conform myself just to the thought of you. And when I think about you, my future partner, my wife… I am just able to picture you with others at your feet, trying to worship you when it should be MY position.  I am willing to fight anybody to make you mine and I want to be the only one loving you. I want to touch, caress, and lick the soft meat of your legs. I want to walk my fingers over your skin and see the goosebumps forming on your body. I want your legs to shake and to be unable to move. I want them around my body, and I want your weight on top of me, tired, restless and at my mercy. I want to take care of you.

I touch myself at the thought of you, even if I don’t know you yet, I can imagine all the things I want to do to you. I can imagine your moans and raspy breaths, the warmness of your tongue on my tip and the strength of my hands in between your hair. I want to be the only one to see you like that. And I want to grab your ass and spank it once for every time you let any other man touch you. The image of it just makes my movements faster, I want to orgasm at the thought of you. When you will be mine, you won’t be able to return to anybody else. Your pleasure will become mine too.

And I swear that I will be so good to you, I will get down on my knees and I will make your mind go blind and void, and I will make your eyes roll until you faint while I am tasting and enjoying your wetness. All your attention will be on me.

Think of me when you touch yourself too. Do not let other see you in the way I will see you. Hide your face from them, cause if I know they can see you in that way: eyes closed, cheeks red and mouth open I will go crazy. They are not worthy of you. It just makes me so mad that I have to bite my lips not to scream and moan. I have to be the only one to see that expression of your face. I am the only one that can cum at the thought of you and to the thought of your face.

I want the cum that falls in my hands to fall in your face and lips, that's the only thought I can cum to.

God, why did you have to be so pretty?".

"Hate to sound sleazy,but tease me,I don't want it if it's that easy" (Tupac Shakur).

PILE 2

(8oP – Page of Cups – The Empress – 8oC – 4oS – The Lovers – 9oP – 6oC )

“My love,

The mere thought of you dominates me, but it seems that I am a no one to you. No matter where I go or what I am doing your energy and aura cannot leave me alone. You are always on my mind, in the most dark and hidden corner. You burn me to frustration. I have so many fantasies of you and of what I want to do to you that I am unable to express them …  You do not give me the chance to do so, and your indifference just makes me want to chase you even more. Stop blocking our relationship or the messages that I am sending you. You dominate me, my thoughts, and actions. But it’s not the same for you. Stop paying attention to others.

(It is possible that he has tried to reach you, but you are blocking him, I don’t know if mentally or physically…).

Every time I see you or think about you, I must fix up my pants because my dick starts throbbing and twisting without control. It makes things so complicated, having to hide the effect you have on me to others. Do you enjoy the power you have over me? I cannot tell as you do not dare to look at me.

But I look at you… And you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.  You are independent, abundant, beautiful, clever and Jesus!... You have such a beautiful body. Your curves drive me crazy, and I just cannot stop looking at you and that chest of yours…round and heavy in my hands. I want to bite and suck your nipples while you close your eyes and enjoy the sensation. Your own body is an invitation to enjoyment.

But you always hold that expression of your face as if you were better than me, you make me feel so dangerous, as if I was the one causing all our feelings, as if I was a wolf chasing you… Why do you feel so much shyness? Why are you acting so innocent, little angel? I know you want me to make you surrender. We both know that this is a fake act. You want me to beg because it feels good to you, you want me to cry for your consent. You feel powerful when you make me go dumb and irrational.

              You love it when I tell you I want you to touch me and that I want to touch you, you act all shy but the wetness between your legs cannot lie. No matter how much you want to hide it, you always end up with the taste of my fingers in your mouth… You like it when I push your limits. And those eyes of yours are so angelic and at the same time so dirty that they make me want to push you even more. I cannot wait to fuck you and see how your boobs move when I thrust into you. I swear to God that your body is so hypnotic that when I focus on it I feel like dying, I could cum in seconds, you make me so horny and needy it’s embarrassing. You feel so good and warm… There’s no better place in this Earth than inside of you.

I can not wait to treat you as you deserve, as a queen. Please let me show you how good I am, I have been working hard to become the emperor and the man that you need and deserve. I can not wait to fight with you for the throne that we both want, that would make you put your attention on me, right?

Always yours, (their name)”.

+ Stuff: they really love your bobs! (No matter if they are small, big... They do not care). – They felt really offended at first when you did not care about their first approaches to you. – They really think you are the most beautiful and powerful woman ever.

"Anyone who is observant, who discovers the person they have always dreamed of, knows that sexual energy comes into play before sex even takes place. The greatest pleasure isn't sex, but the passion with which it is practiced. When the passion is intense, then sex joins in to complete the dance, but it is never the principal aim." (Paulo Coelho).

PILE 3

(Page of Cups – Knight of Wands – The High Priestess – the Hanged man – 10 of Cups – Ace of Swords)

“Finally! It made a lot of time that I wanted to communicate with you, I was getting so stressed and worried, darling! Thanks for coming to me. The first thing I want to do when I meet you is embracing you and finally feeling your whole body, your complete self. I know you are going to be perfect in my embrace.

At first, I will want to take you far away from everybody, I would like it to be just you and me. And I want it to be such a pleasuring trip, I want the best for you, honestly. You make me feel so soft and safe that I just want the same for you and the only way I know how to do it is by kissing you shoulders and back lovingly and slowly. I want things to be slow and deep, I want you to realize how much I love you and how much I desire you and respect you. You are like an ancient masterpiece that I have to take care of with and endless amount of patience and dedication.

              I will make love to you. I will focus only on you and I will lick and press all the right places and zones. I want to hug you while I am fucking you, kissing you and twisting your nipples. I want to press and push your clit so softly and delicately that you will feel overwhelmed with my love.

              I swear I will make that trip so pleasuring to you. I won’t stop touching you, no matter if others can see… I will fuck you and caress you until you are tired, sleepy, and satisfied between my arms. I will even stop on the side of the road if that’s what your body is asking of me.

Ultimately, I will focus so much on you and in your beauty; on how much you seem to understand and balance me that I will just find myself upside down. As if my whole world had just changed due to your presence. I will always look at you and those pretty legs of yours. I will make myself upside down so I can just get a better look at you, at your whole figure and at your most sensitive spot. I don’t care if it will change my attitude as it is possible that it is for the best. You will make so malleable that it is shameful; it’s shameful how little I will care.

You could tie me up to the bed, use me, play with me and I would still love it because it is you. I love to hear all your dirty ideas and words, it made me feel like a young boy again, your love makes me feel rejuvenate. The love and the emotional fulfillment when we are one is the beginning of a new era for me and there’s no words to describe how that makes me feel.

Thank you for appearing in my life, I love you a lot”.

+Stuff: there was a nickname that appeared so quick! But I don’t think it was for everyone, so I did not include it in the letter and it was: “my little wild flower”. – Not just that but this group is fond of nicknames…darling, babe, honey… - The majority of girls is going to have black or brunette hair… that’s something that is going to be really attractive to your fs. – This letter is not as explicit as others because your fs wanted to focus on the emotional side and how much they love you and want to make you feel good.

"What's a fuck when what I want is love?" (Henry Miller).

#tarot pac #tarotblr #pac #nsft tarot #free tarot #future spouse tarot #love tarot #pap #pick a pile #pick a picture #spotify #Spotify

[comradekatara]

do you have headcanons about the gaang and fire girls’ gender identities and sexualities?

i mean yeah 😭😭 obviously 😭😭 im literally a homosexual on tumblr dot edu. that said, i don’t really care for the term “headcanon” in this context, as i think that reading characters as informed by the text constitutes “interpretation” rather than baseless theorizing and fancy. i do get that the term headcanon is pretty ubiquitous in fandom spaces, but to me there is a big difference between “interpretation” (something you can cite the text to persuasively argue, but which may differ across readers) and “headcanon” (baseless inventions purely for self-indulgent pleasure). when it comes to the characters in atla and their relationships to gender as informed by patriarchy, i think there is more than enough material to suggest my readings, as gender plays a fairly significant role in the worldbuilding and characterization. obviously when it comes to more minor characters, that is when a vibes-based analysis is needed, as takes on less integral players are largely conjecture. i have no evidence that june, for example, is a lesbian, beyond simply vibes. and as much as i trust my own judgment when it comes to sniffing out dykes, there is no real textual evidence that june eats pussy. i simply know in my heart of hearts that she does. HOWEVER, that is not what i am doing when i discuss the principal players of atla, whose relationships to gender are largely crucial to how they function in the narrative and how we read them. so without further ado..

aang is actually the vaguest character for me in terms of how i read his relationship to gender, because it’s very clear that he wasn’t raised in a traditionally patriarchal society and thus has a fairly different view on gender than the rest of the world, especially a world whose borders and categorizations have been more rigidly reified after a century of imperialism and colonialism. i can see the argument for aang being a cis, straight boy, and i can see the argument for aang being a nonbinary bisexual kid, etc etc. the one thing we know about aang is that he likes girls. like, really likes girls. so i’ve always kind of read him as mostly straight, but i don’t think he would rigidly define his own gender and sexuality along those lines, even if functionally he would probably present as a straight guy. but he could also be bi, or trans, or what have you. beyond his love for katara (and that time he rightfully felt humiliated by the fire nation portraying him as a woman, not because he doesn’t “respect women,” but because he correctly located it as a propagandistic tool of disrespect and colonial humiliation on their part) it’s not really crucial to his character either way.

katara, on the other hand, really only makes sense if you read her as a cis straight girl. i know that people have gotten incensed over my saying this in the past, but it’s just the most logical reading of her character. she is confident in her femininity and sexuality. she is a girl who can successfully conform to gender roles (and expects others to, quite frankly) but also recognizes and protests the fundamental inequalities of patriarchy. she has internalized a lot of patriarchal ideas about what is appropriate, but also understands that on a structural level, equality across genders is needed. she’s not a girl who struggles with her own gender identity or sexuality, she’s just a person who’s sick of being dismissed and devalued due to her gender, as if her femininity negates her strength or her capacity for anger. she is feminine, strong, and angry. she likes fashion and boys and ecoterrorism. when i call katara a straight girl, it is not to position her as a less compelling character (the fact that i have to even say this is crazy to me. sometimes characters are straight and that doesn’t make them less compelling??? unless you’re some kind of egomaniac who can only like characters if you relate to them… but she's literally the world's specialest princess). in fact, as someone whose best friends are all incredibly intelligent yet kind of ridiculous straight girls, i say it with the deepest, utmost love.

sokka is not cis to me but sometimes people will "agree" with that sentiment by being like "yeah he's a trans boy" and i'm just like.... what. manhood & masculinity are clearly concepts that are imposed upon him as a role he feels compelled to fulfill within a colonial paradigm. people will also say "sokka's arc is about learning what it means to be a real man" and like. if anything sokka's arc is learning that he does not Have to be a "man." so i guess technically i read sokka as nonbinary, but i also don't think sokka would ever bother to conceptualize his own gender, he'd kind of just reach a point wherein he inwardly feels like his relationship to gender is no longer significant to how he defines himself, and not really communicate that feeling to anyone to except for probably suki. also i think he's bisexual (again, he would never outwardly communicate that, he'd just be like "of course i've experimented, i'm a scientist") but with a strong preference for women. and thank god for that bc his daddy issues are so bad; he should not be dating men.

i do read toph as a baby butch who doesn't quite know how to articulate her own relationship to gender and sexuality yet bc she is still a baby. but i definitely see her as embracing her masculinity down the line, as something that isn't only valuable to her as it is positioned contra femininity, but as a mode of expression in its own right. and i know that long hair =/= femininity necessarily, but i do think toph would cut her hair short as a way of undermining the confucian values of belonging to the family, which i know may seem like its unrelated to gender, but considering the patriarchal role of the nuclear family structure informing toph's quite radical disavowal of it (we don't talk about lok, but she was also a single mom by choice so like that's ...... something, at least) toph's decision to renounce those entrenched values is reflective of her gender identity and refusal to adhere to patriarchal dogmas as they impose femininity as passivity and submission. i do still see her as identifying as a woman though, but in a distinctly butch dyke way that complicates the role of womanhood as it rejects the notion that womanhood is primarily a performance for the male gaze. so i think toph is a masc lesbian, which i suppose is quite an obvious reading of her gender, and i don't think it's the only valid interpretation either. i can accept someone reading toph as transmasc or bisexual or otherwise recognizing that these identities can be unstable and even in flux. for example, acknowledging toph's baby crush on sokka means problematizing the notion of her as a lesbian, or at least it can. but i do think sokka is like the one "man" (see above) that dykes find appealing (suki, ty lee, etc etc.) so it makes perfect sense that he'd be like. her ring of keys moment. if anything toph having a crush on sokka illustrates her latent lesbianism (although nothing will ever come of it, obviously). and her gender is also just Lesbian.

suki's relationship to gender is a lot less complex than toph's or sokka's because she's also just a far less developed character in her own right, so i've always kind of just read her gender as an extension of kyoshi's for thematic reasons. and since kyoshi is canonically bisexual with a preference for women, i also read suki as bisexual with a preference for women. like i definitely think that she was surprised at first by how into sokka she was because she had never experienced liking a "boy" before. and i also think it's fun to read kyoshi as trans (no, not because she's tall and "aggressive," dear god); if you've read the novels you'll probably understand what i mean by that. so i'm partial to trans girl suki as well, but i think her being cis or trans is actually equally likely because she literally grew up on the isle of lesbos. but nowhere else on avatar planet in that particular epoch is this true. except for maybe the swamp idk. anyway she's a bi dyke to me for sure.

zuko is very obviously gay. i'd say that zuko's sexuality is the most obviously entrenched in the entire show. however, i don't think the writers themselves are aware of this (because it was 2005 and gay people weren't invented until december 2014 korrasami handhold) so they clumsily try to get him back together with mai in the finale even though they had actually constructed a near-perfect portrait of two closeted children attempting to perform a functional relationship under political pressure to please their noble families. but so much of zuko's arc is potently reflective of the struggle of a closeted child on the journey to assert himself against an abusive patriarch who imposes his rigid ideals of what kind of masculinity is appropriate for boys to model and what isn't. obviously the political and ideological dimensions to his arc as his consciousness is raised constitutes the primary aspect of his character, but reading him as gay is also just the logical extension of that journey. i could literally go through every single episode scene by scene explaining how every single facet illustrates his latent homosexuality in such and such way. but i'm pretty sure everyone following me also very much knows this, and also i don't actually care enough about zuko to do that (sorry zuzu). oh and yeah he's cis (obviously) but i have seen (sparse) transfem zuko interpretations that were kind of compelling. however, i do just think he's a cis boy who struggles with adhering perfectly to a fascist model of masculinity and has some stereotypically gay/effeminate inclinations. and also the blue spirit is drag and the height of camp. but yeah he's cis probably.

azula is a lesbian (cis, again, there's no way she's ever going to seriously contemplate transing her gender) and i'm not just saying that because she's cunty and mean. her relationship to mai and (especially) ty lee is highly reflective of the experience of teenage (closeted) lesbians in very intense friendships with other girls that precariously toe the line between platonic and romantic. azula's relationships are obviously also complicated by the factor of coercion and the fact that none of them actually have any agency to act on their desires for a myriad of reasons. the only time azula ever displays interest in a boy is when she is attempting to soothe her own ego by proving that she is in fact desirable to the most powerful boy in the room – a space wherein the hierarchy of court is replicated by the hierarchy of high school popularity rankings, and she is no longer at the top of the food chain and must climb her way up the ladder by asserting her ability to "attain" the famous cha(d)n. she also clearly has no idea what to do once she has attained such a boy because her desire is superficial, and she can only actually operate on the logic of domination and conquest that was instilled in her by ozai. however, contrast this with the softness and affection with which she treats ty lee, the jealousy she displays when ty lee is fawned over by boys (which she mistakes for jealousy over the fact that she wants the boys' attention for herself), or the devastation she feels over her betrayal. azula is capable of genuine love and affection, even if she has spent her entire life convincing herself that she isn't, but that affection is reserved for her female friends. [lord farquaad pointing] baby dyke.

ty lee is probably a lesbian but there's also the possibility that she is attracted to men but would simply never in one million years actually date one in any capacity, and thus is functionally a lesbian regardless. but like. she literally joins the dyke warriors as the culmination of her arc which is about how she hides her true face and performs and contorts herself to please others for the sake of her own survival, before asserting that her love for another girl is so strong that she would sacrifice her own life for that love, and then ultimately embracing authenticity. it literally does not get any gayer than that.

mai kind of has trans girl swag actually but also there's literally no circumstance wherein her image-obsessed noble family would permit her to transition (especially since they so clearly favor sons over daughters) so she's probably just a really cool cis girl (those exist, i'm told). and also she's a dyke obviously. i do think she did have a crush on zuko at some point as a child, but if anything it was born of the mutual recognition that they have something in common (gayness) and so she found him to be an appropriate yet also kind of thrilling object of fascination. obviously he's very different once he returns from his banishment, and so that illusion is almost immediately shattered, but she nonetheless tries her damn best to be a good, supportive girlfriend to him, and invests a lot of emotional energy into their (somewhat farcical) relationship. that said, i do think that assuming that her attraction to zuko is genuine beyond the social pressures that facilitated it is just. really sad for her. so i think she is a lesbian.

rapid fire round: iroh straight (duh), jet repressed bicuriosity but functionally straight, yue bisexual (vibes-based assessment), king kuei bisexual as is bosco the bear, kanna lesbian, hama bisexual, herbalist lesbian, piandao gay, haru straight, long feng eunuch.

#sapphikatara #the gaang and #analysis #asks #abolish headcanons. no one should have them unless they are your nostrils. we do READINGS here. #anyway. #you know who we don't talk about enough #long feng. let's talk about long feng

[callsignvenomcod]

baby boy

Prompt: Reader's Simon childhood love from Manchester. Or Simon's past catches up with him on a random patrol day.

One shot based on the song "Baby boy" by Childish Gambino.

warnings: parent abandonment, age gap couple.

______________________________________________________________

It was an agreement.

It was a civil agreement made between two responsible adults in the best benefit of a third party. It was supposed to be easy, the best way to come to terms with it, but as he was going to learn later in life, nothing came easy for Simon Riley. Or anyone unlucky or dumb enough to stick around with him.

He secretly always imagined how it would be like to see her again. It was a pleasure he reserved for lonely nights, for really long desert crawls, for the frail moments, suspended in air, between standing at the edge of a helicopter door and the decisive jump. He always imagined alternative universes in which he actually had a lucky star, in which he actually had a chance at life, at happiness, at being domestic, nothing but a fat house cat.

Simon met the girl in the butcher shop. He took the first job he could get his hands on. It wasn't bad. Not bad, bad.

Where else? Girls like her didn't walk around his side of town, but they all had to eat; and cutting up carnage and splashing around blood, that he could do. She walked into the Butcher's, making the little bell on top of the door ding, and Simon knew, with as much certain that he knew that one day he would die, that his life had changed forever.

He was scarred but the light inside him still worked. Simon had skeletons in his closet, but he was doing such a good job at keeping them at bay. When she walked into the butcher's, fivers in her hand, Simon could stand up straight, could spare a few small smiles, could keep the voices in his mind at peace, for the brief interactions, the shared smiles and pleasantries, the "What's your name?", "You from around?" and "What time you get off?", the way the girl tried so very hard to divert her gaze from the blood stained apron.

It led to so much more. She worked half time at a chippy, and they did good. They did really good for a couple conformed by a Manchester alley kid and the fucking angel that she was. He was in love, and therefore he was in trouble, because no one was around to teach him how to deal with a swollen heart about to burst; and with an outside world that was made of needles and pins.

He liked the way her smile tilted up whenever she was directing it to him, the way she would sit down at a stool in the butcher's, waiting for him to get off shift, just so he could walk her home. Liked the way her skin felt under his rugged hands, how soaked she would get through grey panties, how he drank her saliva right off her lips and how she whispered how much she loved him, actually, truly, loved him, while he was trying his best not to cum in his pants, short breath, in the living room of her house, while her mother was upstairs watching Channel 4, willing to overlook the fact that Simon was a bit (or a lot) older than her daughter because she had never seen her so happy.

And they loved each other. He can say it; it doesn't hurt, doesn't embarrass him either; if anything, he feels unusually lucky his nostalgia makes him wonder at nights, patrolling the barracks or in this case, a small English city, with so many men and women who looked like the people he grew up with.

Then 9/11 happened, and it was too big to ignore, too big to drink away, and she cried when saying goodbye to him on the train station on his way to join, and she knew deep down inside her that Simon Riley was not the kind of man that would turn around to give her one last glance before disappearing into the military for a few months. It was a higher calling, something bigger than him, a reason to get away, from his childhood home that was wrecking, from his father, from something hungry that lived inside of him and was getting out of control.

She called him the minute she way Tommy starting to get bad. She was younger, younger than Tommy even and had reached out to a cabin to dial the number he gave her "for emergencies only", and she told him how Tommy had been stealing from their mum, stumbling around alleys with the wrong crowd, leaving Beth a crying mess in her room, looking too much like Daddy.

That's when he came back. Took a train in the January rain and fixed his whole house up. Picked up his mum from the hoarder state she was in, kicked common sense into his baby brother and simultaneously kicked his old man out. Never to be seen again.

Y/N's watched from the courtside every moment; watched as Simon cleaned up vomit from Tommy's chin, while Beth's belly swollen with a baby, and she cooked porridge while Simon allowed his mum to cry on his chest for hours and hours, victim of the detox, of the night horrors, and herself. All of them became the new Riley's in a way, and she stopped going home to her mother, just crashing at Simon's twin size mattress, in his childhood bedroom that still had the Man U posters on the walls and a beaten-up Walkman CD player.

-I couldn't do this without you...- Simon had whispered after a particularly difficult night that involved Tommy screaming and Beth threatening to throw herself off the stairs. They were lying in bed in their underwear, cozied up together, warm limbs and tangled sheets, staring at the fading glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling. She turned on her side, staring at his nose drawn by the shadows. His warm, yet tired eyes, looked back at her and they shared a sorry excuse of a smile before they could share a kiss.

They were in the shit, and the girl on his too small bed was in it for the laughs of it, for a chance to sleep by his side. For that thing they called love.

Winter arrived. The house was freezing still, but they could afford heating now. Now Tommy was paid up for, and he was a butcher at the groceries, and Beth stayed home with Mum and Jacob, the baby. He was skinny for a newborn, the doctors said, but he will catch up with breastfeeding. Simon was a best man at the wedding, but he didn't give a speech. Y/N's was maid of honor, but only because Beth had no other friends. The photos never lie, and you can see Simon with the longest hair he's ever had, in a fitted suit, stern look, a girl clinging from his arm, a baby brother hugging him, a mother with crinkles, a sister-in-law elegantly 9 months pregnant in a wedding dress.

For a moment it was nice, and the future was looking bright. He got a taste of what life could have been like if the stars would have been kind to them. He would wake up early to jog and would see the back of Tommy's head while he left for work, and almost every day his mum would be up, carrying around Jacob in a bathrobe. Beth would cook breakkie and Y/N's would always ask him if he wanted red or brown sauce even if she knew that he wanted brown.

It could have been...good. Great, even. But instead of that it was real life.

He left for Ukraine a few days after he learned she was pregnant with his child; and he thanked every damn God or Goddess he knew of when he learned that everyone was dead except her; her mum falling ill and asking her to take care of her in her childhood house. The blood didn't reach her; she still didn't pay for loving Simon. He became radioactive after that and closed his ears to any plea, to any love confession and promise of safety. He wanted her to hate him, to want him away, he wanted her to have an abortion, she wanted a baby. A baby with him. His baby.

"A part of me and you", she said, "something ours. Untouchable."

But they weren't untouchable, were they? He had scars for days to prove it, coffins, even a child size one, night horrors, a medal, had proof every time he closed his eyes, had nightmares about how many people had touched him and everyone near him. It was a no brainer.

When Price told 141 about this patrolling mission, he would be lying if he said that a shiver ran down his spine and he heard bells for a couple of minutes before forcing himself to come back to the briefing reunion. There was always a chance.

While everyone thought that Ghost would be at least thrilled at the prospect of going back to the UK, Price kept a close eye on him. He knew he was only a few years older than Simon, and his boss as well, but they had seen hell together and survived it. The captain cared for his team, cared, weather he wanted to admit it or not.

Truth was that he wanted to say he knew all about the men he worked with, but that would be a lie, a lie every captain said once in a while. He knew, for example, that Johnny "Soap" MacTavish had two older sisters in Fort Augustus, Scotland, Mary and Ava. He knew Roach had a horrible fear of clowns for some accident in a party all those years ago, Nikolai, Yuri, he had facts about them too.

He knew, for example, that somewhere in England, Ghost had a kid. A baby boy.

Every month, a generous amount of his paycheck went to a throwaway account in the Bank of England, more than half. And he had listed a minor for healthcare and schooling, housing military benefits, The name was Alfie Riley, listed as Alfie Smith; and he was 6 years old.

Simon knew he knew. He trusted that upon him, not out of pure friendship or companionship, but maybe with a hint of letting him know that if it leaked, he had no problem into taking the business into his own hands. There was only so much you could stretch a person without breaking it, and if anything happened to the boy, Price knew it would be Simon's point of no return. A monster would be born or rather, let out of the cage.

Sometimes he thought about it while staring at him on a briefing. Sometimes he tried not to.

-Right. The intel we have on this cell comes from the right source. Our man says this human trafficking cell operates within the church compounds. He believes it has something to do with the orphanage...

Captain Price's voice boomed through the briefing room designated in the security house. They had arrived a few days ago, and it looked as if the whole city of Salisbury took a deep breath at the presence of military men and women. For sure it was an odd view, big bulky men walking around the country fields, around town, asking questions, smiling, blank faces, new voices and sights; but they knew, at least, the problems the community had been facing, will now come to an end finally. The 141 was going to help with that. They were the good lads.

-So split up, ask around. They know were here. - Price said, staring at Gaz from behind his desk; giving the order and finishing the meeting. Soap and Simon bantered around something as they usually did. He sighed, watching as Simon stared dead in front of him while the younger soldier tried to get inside his head. -Kyle, you're with me. Let Bert and Ernie fetch for themselves. - he sentenced, and that was that.

They were sent to walk around Salisbury. They could see the warmth of people's lives, a few kids crossing the street, a teenager in love, dogs being walked, girls staring at windows with headphones on, daydreaming. It was a life so far from the one they had, from the one they choose when they were too young, that is seemed foreign, alien. Johnny MacTavish smiled at walkers who stared at the vest, or his stupid haircut, whatever that catches their sight first.

Salisbury was a small city, one of the smallest in England, actually, and Simon had never been there before this mission. There was a church in every corner, much like Cornwall, but it lacked the shore and the salt in the water. It was Johnny who did all the talking anyway; what, with being younger, less imponent, with the thick Scottish accent that made everyone pay attention, either to help or to even try to understand what he was saying. Specially since Johnny actually had a face to show, and a friendly one.

Right now, Simon was backup, right now he was deuteragonist.

Simon limits himself to lean against one of the local pastries shop fronts, while Johnny walked inside. He thinks that right now would be a great time to have picked up the habit of smoking, to pass the time, to measure it in cigarettes, but a troubled childhood and several fading little dot scars on his arms remind him how repulsed he was by cigarettes. So, he stares at the road in front of him, at the other shops, at the people that stare back at him because of-fucking-course, he's wearing a skull balaclava, and he's 6'2, and he's a crucial part of the army party that erupted in Salisbury a few days ago, asking questions, taking names.

It takes him a minute or two to realize what's going on. It was an agreement. Part ways, stay in the country to get the benefit, but never let each other know where they were. When Simon died, a letter would arrive, a letter with his dog tags and she will see it fit to know what to do next.

-Fucking hell...- he muttered and sprung up like a slinky. He panicked for a few moments before realizing even if she stared right at him, she couldn't recognize him; she would only see a dirty, dusty skull balaclava and black grease over his eyes.

She would not see Simon, the boy that left her a few years ago, he wouldn't see Simon the man who simply stood there while she was trying to level with him on raising the kid together, to be a family, and she wouldn't see Simon, the man who did what he had to do. Who erased his own face from the world, who spared them both, Y/N's and Alfie, of a life of wondering when they were going to be kidnapped, hurt or killed.

Men like Simon were not meant to have a family, to have people to depend on them, not like this, not this close, because in the blink of an eye, shit would hit the fan and things like Manchester massacre would happen again and again and again. He would be left firing his gun to an empty field with nothing ticking inside his chest. It was better this way.

But nothing could prepare him for this moment. It was a sick joke of destiny, really, to be stationed in one of the smallest cities in England, and for her to be standing right across the street, holding their son in her arms, looking both sides, like a good mum, before letting her white keds touch the pavement.

Alfie was a brunette. It made sense; and if this was lighter, he would roll his eyes and the bowl cut the kid had, which combined with their missing could be a picture-perfect description of a rascal. Except he didn't know a thing about Alfie other that he had been to the doctors twice past month, one to the dentist, one to the medic. Stomachache. 10 pounds for tablets. Simon didn't know if he was a rascal or not, if he had friends or didn't, if he was in trouble at school or not, didn't know his favorite show or his favorite color, what he wanted to be when he grew up. All he knew was that he loved him, it didn't matter that the kid will never hear from him or meet him. Simon loved them enough to remove himself from their lives. To give them a chance that he was denied from the beginning.

His P.O. box said that he got letters once in a while, from different cities in England, and you didn't have to be a genius to figure out who wrote to him. He only ever picked up one, and it was simply a polaroid. It was her, and it was his son, and she was smiling at the camera with very tired eyes, an oversized shirt, and messy hair, and Alfie was on her lap, missing teeth, bowl cut, space shirt, freckled face full of birthday cake. A candle in the shape of the number 6.

Little hands, little feet, tiny heart, tiny beat

It was better this way. He would repeat himself that every morning as soon as he woke up in a barrack, instead of a military housing, alone and cold, instead of next to her and warm with the heat of her body. Sneaking a quick fuck with the love of his life before the kid two doors down woke up.

It was better this way. She would walk right past him, not knowing that the soldier in front of the pastries shop learned every curve in her body, every freckle, the birthmark in her right rib; He would thank his mask once again, and let his eyes wonder at the way she struggled with her bag, with still holding Alfie in her arms, while trying to stay alert.

It was better this way. A grenade will reach him, or the enemy, Ali Baba, a Russian, a Mexican, another Brit, the son or daughter or brother or best friend of someone he fucked up in the past. Cancer, a snake.

A heart failure at 70, a bullet at 41. He would die eventually, and they will give him his dog tags, and he will have a slight discomfort knowing his father died, but that's it. Like learning an actor from your childhood died of age; sad, but irrelevant. The day will go on.

It was better this way. She will fall in love again, with a bank clerk, or a veterinarian or Alfie's football coach. Someone else will teach Alfie how to be a father, will tie his shoelaces, will talk to him about girls, about fist fights, will buy him his first pint. It was better this way; Y/N's will tell him about him someday and he will look for him, or not, he will understand or not, he will hate him, forgive him, love him, in that order, or not.

It was better this way. It was.

There was a time before you, and there will be a time after you. With these vibes or not, walk tall, little man, walk tall.

It was better this way. His breath would get caught up in his throat as he saw Y/N's try to control the child, placing him on the ground, holding his hand while she looked inside her bag for something. And Alfie's blue eyes would wonder his surroundings, piercing his father's heart without knowing so. Simon wouldn't move, Alfie neither, but they would stare at each other for a few seconds before the kid broke out in a smile, tugging at his mother's hand, saying something in a squeaky voice, with a south accent, tiny index finger pointing at Ghost's skull mask. He had his mother's smile, but those eyes were all Simon.

Y/N looked up, finally finding some keys on her bag before returning her attention to the boy latched to her hand and she will also look at Simon without knowing so. The woman would frown for a moment, before giving up a quivering smile, murmuring something to the kid, pulling him to the opposite direction. And for Alfie, that was going to be it. The day went on. The man stood there thinking he couldn't do this with her, he shouldn't, and every attempt to reach out was an attempt against his kin. That there were some people that shouldn't be a father, like his own father, like his father's father.

She turned around a few times, locking eyes with the man in the balaclava before disappearing into the street, mixing up with the people walking by; the coats and the jackets. And Simon gulped down nervous saliva, suddenly needing to lean on the wall a bit more than he wanted to admit.

It was better this way.

______________________________________________________________

Hello! Venom here.

This is the first time I write for the COD fandom and for Ghost Riley. An absolute menace, I think he is. Please let me know what you think about it and give me a follow if you liked it.

Thank you :)

#simon riley #cod headcanons #cod mw2 x reader #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #call of duty modern warfare #cod #x reader #reader insert #dad simon

[gay-dorito-dust]

Another crappy drab from yours truly 🦦

Michael Gavey, the knobhead who acted so smug and almost standoffish when it came to his natural talent in mathematics, always having been seen practically looking over you, and pestering you in order to prove his innate ability to crunch numbers in record time within his big head.

Michael, the douche bag who would always make snide, smart ass remarks on your intellect when you just finally began to understand what the question was requiring of you, meanwhile Michael on the other hand was miles ahead of you; answering equations after equation at the speed of light. Only stopping to begrudgingly offer you some help, but never once showing an ounce of irritation nor annoyance when he had to explain the workings out to you for the fifth times; solely because you had gotten distracted by just how softy spoken he was for a man who had a sharp tongue.

Michael, who chooses to stay by your side more often then not after being abandoned by Oliver in order to join Felix Catton and his twats for mates. Not that you minded, you knew he just needed someone to avoid the hollow feeling of being left on his own, and you were willing to be that someone for him.

Michael who, despite name calling Oliver a crowd following, conforming to the social norms bootlicker, obviously felt a pain and betrayal in light of his actions. You saw it in the way a hurt look would overtake his beautiful blue eyes, or how his hands would inevitably become tight white knuckled fists gripping the seams of his pants, or how his jaw would clench upon seeing Oliver follow Felix like an obsessive and lost puppy dog throughout college.

He didn’t need to verbally tell you he was hurt when his body told you in the most clearest way possible.

‘Hey.’ You nudged his side, causing him to look over at you and away from Oliver. ‘You don’t need that looser. ‘If that bootlicker wants to follow Felix, let him. He’ll regret it sooner or later but until then we’ll be making some fun of our own; No snobbish cunts nor bootlickers allowed.’ For the first time in a while, you saw Michael genuinely smile.

Michael, who had begun to speculate about withholding feelings towards you. Was that always the case? He would wonder to himself as he tries to recall his feelings could’ve possibly chosen to blossom. For he knew it wasn’t at first sight. No, far from it actually, but every chance encounter you had afterwards were enough proof for Michael to believe that it was something akin to it.

Feeling as though a deep seated ache had taken hold within Michael’s chest whenever you departed from his side, he would also felt something along the lines of an electrical burn coursing through his veins whenever you were nearby; It was a pleasurable burn to say the least rather then an excruciatingly painful one.

Michael who, during one moment or gradually building over the course of several encounters, knew that his life had been changed once you had stepped into it. However now as he comes to accept these feelings, he gets a sudden realisation that he didn’t know what was expected of him to do now…

#Saltburn #saltburn x reader #Saltburn x you #Saltburn x y/n #Saltburn imagines #Saltburn imagine #michael gavey imagine #michael gavey x y/n #michael gavey x you #michael gavey x reader

[lurkingshan]

Only Friends and Engaging with Queer Male Media as a Cishet Woman

I’ve had some good conversations this week with friends as we’ve been unpacking our early reactions to Only Friends, which has only just begun getting into the messy dynamics we know the show is going to explore. One of the things that has come up in conversation is our different reactions to the scene between Boston and Top in the shower stall, and how we each read that in terms of consent, sexual coercion, and what it says about each of the characters. Some of us were relatively unfazed by the scene, finding it to be a fairly realistic depiction of a pushy aggressor and his conquest who is not that into him, but also not really opposed to getting sex anywhere and any way he can. Some were more uncomfortable, recognizing behaviors we might call assault in other contexts and wondering whether we should be condemning the character or the scene for the behavior depicted.

For me, this discussion brought up a lot of my previous fandom experiences, taking me all the way back to ye olden days when Queer as Folk (US) was airing and the majority cishet woman fandom spaces were scandalized, scandalized I tell you, by some of the aspects of gay male culture it depicted. It was not the first or the last show to do so, but it stands out in my mind as an important cultural moment at the turn of century as I was coming of age, when the internet was booming and the proliferation of online fandom spaces was rapidly accelerating. Because QaF did it all—casual sex, cruising, group sex, very public acts of indecency, aggressive boundary pushing and peacocking, open and polyamorous relationships, cheating and betrayal, age gaps—and it depicted it all quite explicitly, which made a lot of people uncomfortable. Especially women who were used to thinking about sex and relationships through two primary, and heavily socialized, lenses:

heteronormative romance, and

heterosexual rape culture.

Let’s take a moment to unpack those terms. Heteronormative romance is a big, broad term that I’m using as a kind of container for a lot of things, including patriarchal structures, misogyny, rigid gender roles, purity myths and fetishization of virginity, courtship rituals, promiscuity and respectability politics, the madonna/whore complex, sex as an act primarily for breeding and procreation, expectations of sublimating sexual desire in service of caretaking for others, and so on. Basically, all the bullshit cis women get jammed into our heads from birth that gives us so many hang ups about sex and love. With heterosexual rape culture, I am referring to the undeniable culture of sexual violence women also endure in a majority heterosexual society, in which we are in constant danger of having our boundaries transgressed, being physically and psychologically hurt, and then being told it doesn’t matter because our personhood has always been in question and never mattered as much as any one man’s power or pleasure. I’m not going to drop a bunch of citations for the above because this is tumblr and I have escaped the icy grip of graduate school, but if any of these ideas are unfamiliar to you, google is your pal (and please read about intersectionality as it relates to these concepts while you’re at it, because there are layers of identity that make these dangers worse for some, like our trans and BIPOC sisters, and all of this is undergirded, as ever, by white supremacy).

So, yes, engaging with media about sex is fraught for women, especially when that media does not conform to our heteronormative ideas of morality that have been shaped by all of the above, and particularly when we as individuals have not done the work to unpack and interrogate our socialized beliefs, which is often the case for cishet women especially. Many of us instinctively cringe away from unromantic depictions of sex. Many of us can’t stand cheating and betrayal in our love stories. Many of us shy away from media that depicts the unfortunate reality of grey and dubious consent. All of that is valid, to an extent, and rooted in the way we have been taught to think about this stuff from birth, and the ways we’ve had to adapt to survive. 

But, here’s the thing, girlies: most of those socialized hang ups I just talked about? Do not apply to a story by, for, and about queer men. 

Before you start yelling, here is your disclaimer: of course patriarchy and misogyny also hurt men. Of course rape culture also exists in queer communities, and of course some queer people engage in heterosexual sex, so these are not mutually exclusive categories of people. And, importantly, cishet women are not the only ones who struggle with these tensions—just the ones who are most relevant to this particular post. 

So, after that long and winding road, back to the point: this debate about the bathroom scene in Only Friends is the same shit that’s been debated in majority female fandoms around depictions of queer male sex since time immemorial. And whatever your personal feelings are on that scene, or the no doubt numerous other depictions of questionable romantic and sexual etiquette and dubious consent coming our way in this show, what it boils down to is this: can a majority cis woman fandom step outside of our own conception of sexual morality to engage with this show not with judgment, but with curiosity about what sex and relationships look like for queer men? This show has an entirely queer male writing and directing team. It is made with love by people of the community, for the community. They know what they’re about, they have resumes demonstrating they are damn good storytellers who understand safe sex, consent, sexual health, and sex work, and they are here to tell us a story grounded in their reality. BL has been moving in fits and starts toward depictions of sex that are more honest about queer male experiences, and Only Friends, spearheaded by the Jojo Tichakorn Phukhaotong (who demonstrated quite ably that he has a firm grasp on consent, sexual assault, and the damage that dubious consent can cause in The Warp Effect), is the next step in that evolution. The key point is that sexual activity simply does not mean the same thing or carry the same associations and hang ups for queer men as it does for cis women. With that in mind, can we try our best to process and critique this story on their terms, instead of our own?

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Only Friends is not going to be a good time for people who are looking for romantic depictions of relationships and sex or invested in identifying heroes and villains amongst this cast of characters. This show is about deeply flawed people hurting each other, rooted in the lived experience of the Thai queer male community—and those of us who do not share all of those lived experiences may not understand the nuances of every single thing that is happening. We can be sure that the characters will all be wrong sometimes and they will all do things we think are stupid or reckless or unkind. Does that mean we can’t have empathy for them? Do they have to act in a way we think is morally “correct” in order to love them? You don’t have to be comfortable with the things these characters do, and it’s certainly valid to point out when you think lines have been crossed. But attempting to sort them into “good” and “bad” camps is pointless, and moralistic judgment of their behavior is out of place, particularly when it comes from a place of trying to force them into our own irrelevant frameworks for sexual politics. 

And with all that said, I am passing the baton over to my dear friend @waitmyturtles, because there’s an entire aspect of the intersectional cultures at play here that I have barely touched on—Only Friends as an Asian queer story that is building from a specific lineage of Thai queer media. I’m gonna let her take the mic for that part, and say thanks to her, @bengiyo, @neuroticbookworm and @wen-kexing-apologist for reading this over and helping me think through what I wanted to say here, and shoutout to @williamrikers whose post I also linked to above. 

#only friends the series #only friends #ofts #thai bl #shan shouts into the void

[the-bramble--patch]

I’ve been seeing a few posts on minimalism going around, one being @bisquitt’s post on sustainability and minimalism—how the two terms shouldn’t be conflated, and how real sustainability is about anti-capitalism in the forms of reuse, repair, and community interdependence. Another is @allstrangeandwonderful’s post on how Minimalism is an aesthetic based around coping in the "corporate hellscape" we live in—contemporary designers gravitate towards neutral colors as a respite from the warlike corporate use of color to catch the attention of a consumer (See Mina Le's video on this concept also. She offers up a few possible reasons for this trend towards "greige" interiors, one being the inundation from advertising we experience in our everyday lives).

I wanted to talk about these concepts and tie in some other things I’ve been seeing around.

Imo, minimalism is anti-consumerist, but not anti-capitalist. The lifestyle and aesthetic is intended to address the systemic problem of living in a consumerist society on an individual level. Instead of ending the capitalist system that thrusts consumerism on us all, it suggests that minimalists create a safe space away from consumerism. It is not interested in changing the system, only the individual. What really drove this home for me was watching The Financial Diet on YouTube interview The Minimalists, the guys who kicked off the trend. She keeps trying to ask them about the underlying issues Minimalism acts as a band-aid for, and they keep dodging her questions.

The lifestyle choices bisquitt offers up as sustainable are typically lumped under the umbrella of Solarpunk: “fixing shit around your house. thrifting. patching clothes and handing them down. a community garden. potluck dinner parties. farmer’s markets. a barter system among friends and neighbors. kindness. love among community members.“ These things do not conform to the minimalist aesthetic tenets of order, function, and simplicity. They are often vibrant, mismatched, and chaotic, messy even (see my post on solarpunk aesthetics here). This is because solarpunk aims to solve the same issues minimalism does, but on a societal level. Solarpunk is working towards a utopian future of degrowth, where the forces that Minimalism is in opposition to will no longer exist. This allows for everyday people to reclaim vibrancy from corporations. That busyness is only desirable in a world where capitalism isn't such a burden. Solarpunk advocates for simplicity in all but design, instead of the other way around.

Another thing is the separation between meaning and function present in Minimalism. Minimalism is often associated with deriving pleasure from experiences, not things. The physical space is deprioritized (I know the movement is about changing the physical space, but the idea is that the physical space just makes your life more efficient) for a kind of zen outlook about mind over matter. Solarpunk is much more holistic in its recognition that inner peace comes from a play between the external and internal worlds—from connection and respect for people, things, and resources. Instead of removing meaning and beauty from a space to prioritize the mind, Solarpunk instills it, to elicit interaction with the world instead of a retreat from it. Thus, Solarpunk rolls meaning and function into one: a visibly mended shirt is both functional (the hole is gone), and meaningful (it says much more about the politics of the wearer than one mended invisibly). Another example is the bottle walls commonly used in Earthships: Making the bottles visible is beautiful, and it communicates that the builder is interested in using sustainable material.

In short, minimalism is individualist while Solarpunk is collectivist, and the aesthetics of each reflect that. Retreating from a broken society will not fix said society. Sustainability needs to be solved on a societal level, so minimalism as a solution to overconsumption just isn't gonna cut it.

#solarpunk #sustainability #minimalism #solarpunk aesthetics #mine #my writing