#i struggled with my sexuality for years because I felt so pressured to Be Gay when the message should have just been to be myself

[alottiegoingon]

facing your fears

shauna shipman x fem!reader (all characters aged up)

warnings: struggling with sexuality, pre-crash (but mentions of it?), minimal usage of bad words, probably a bunch of english mistakes and bad writing (not my first language), no 18+ content just fluff

“Right, okay, Van. I think the lesbianism thing is taking over your head a little too much.” You scoff. Your lips were curled up in an expression that it was supposed to be a smile ready to mock your friend Vanessa and let her know how absurd her comment was, but it honestly seemed very unsure. Maybe been discreet wasn’t actually your thing, but liking Shauna Shipman wasn't something that you were happy to admit.

“She’s kind of right, you know. You think everyone is gay, Van.” Taissa’s eyes met her girlfriend’s. She didn’t like disagreeing with Van. Happy wife happy life, right? But maybe, just maybe, she could be wrong about it. Since Van and Tai got together and finally told the team, their favorite thing to do was spot other queer people at school and you were a great targer. Well, except for the fact that you probably weren't a lesbian.

It just wasn’t very you. As y/n Taylor, you had high expectations to be filled and a reputation to care about. Jackie Taylor was your oldest sister by a year and no matter how close you two were, ruining her reputation at school wasn’t a very nice thing to do and it could easily ruin your life. Her life. Jackie was the dream girl. The one that all the boys wanted to be with and all the girls wanted to be her. Perfect hair, perfect clothes, perfect grades (almost) and perfect at soccer. Always the one that would drag all the attention to herself while walking through the school hallways and never missing a chance to attend a party with stunning clothes and the gorgeous makeup. You couldn’t complain about it though. Being related to a popular girl would usually get you stuff that most teenagers would fight to have in high school. Even if you were being known by being Jackie Taylor’s sister, it was still some sort of popularity level that many people wanted to have. Just… Not you.

You loved Jackie, of course. But the pressure of being related to the Wiskayok High School princess was too much. You were in Shauna’s car two years ago along with Jackie while she would drive you to school and you accidentaly let a thought slip away out loud; You were scared of trying for extra activities in school, frightened by the idea of not being good enough like Jackie was (which you didn’t tell her, of course). But eventually, you gave it a try when she said that you had to face your fears. She was good with pep talk. It felt like the world was ending when you tried to join the Yellowjackets team right after that and failed miserably, managing to fall right against the scratchy artificial grass on your first attempt of running after a stupid football. That’s when you realized that you saw Shauna with different eyes. When your cheek was getting squeezed against the floor and you heard the coach whistling, your eyes immediately met hers from afar. Sitting on the closest bench, Jackie made sure to scold all the girls that were laughing at you and right by her side, there was Shauna. Maybe she wanted to laugh as well but she didn’t. Probably because she was Jackie’s best friend, you thought. Her lips were pressing against each other so tightly that they were repressing even the slightest smile. She even had a threatening stare while looking at the girls who were giggling. It was a miracle that you got into the cheerleading team but at least it was better than run after a soccer ball. Besides, you looked cute in a skirt.

You knew Shauna before that, she was always at your house. But you never acknowledged her before. Not consciously at least. You remembered clear as the day when Jackie and Shauna would stay in the bedroom for the entire day; talking about everything and everyone and their stupid crushes. Jeff, Randy, James, you name it. You, too shy and scared to join them, would always politely deny Jackie’s invitations but that didn’t stop you from hearing their nonsense every time you walked through Jackie’s bedroom. Even when the door was closed, their voices, too excited to share their opinions on the world, weren’t exactly the quietest.  

“Exactly! And even if I was a lesbian, which obviously I’m not, Shauna would be the last person I would-“ You were more than desperate convicted of your own self, ready to deny Van’s crazy thought. You had no feelings for Shauna. But then, you heard a familiar voice sounding a bit too hostile now, echoing through the entire locker room. It was definitely her. You could see her narrowed brown eyes, her stiff back showing signs of tension, her folded arms and how her hair matching her eyes was stuck on a messy ponytail and took your breath away.

The muffled voice got more and more clear as the steps were sounding closer to you. You were so eager to defend yourself before that you didn’t even bother to look around and search the area for other people. A soccer team with girls only? The rumors would fly around very quickly, especially when coming straight from Jackie Taylor’s little sister. Teenagers were known for being cruel and mean for no reason and being a lesbian in 1996? That was the same as having a death wish.

“You aren’t supposed to be here. Cheerleaders are not allowed.” You were just standing up from the bench when Shauna stood there, just a few steps away from you. You took a quick glance at Van to see her with widen eyes and an ironic lurking smirk. She would always act so suspicious when Shauna was around and it made you worried every single time, thinking if Shauna would notice how their behavior changed when she stepped in and how you always seemed so nervous. You look at Shauna again and immediately remembered why Van and Taissa always assumed you had a thing for her. It was definitely probably how your pupils would dilate immediately when seeing her, the fact that your voice would get high-pitched even when saying a simple hello or how you would fix your hair awkwardly. Or maybe how you could barely say a word without stuttering and making it way too obvious that you weren’t casual about her presence.

You didn’t have enough time to say a single word. A loud metallic noise echoed through the locker room when Van practically slammed the locker door shut and gave you a very much not cautious look before leaving and practically dragging Taissa with her. In less than ten seconds, you were panicking. You were alone with Shauna all of her toughness and not a single sign of friendly thoughts inside her head. “What?” You mutter. For someone that struggled with eye contact, your eyes wouldn’t dare to leave hers. Maybe it was fear but maybe it was amusement.

“I know that you are friends with the girls but you can’t keep coming here all the time, you know? Cheerleaders shouldn’t be here and you know we only let you in cause you’re J-“

“Jackie’s sister.” You cut Shauna before she could finish her sentence. You didn’t think much before doing it. Before not only interrupting her but also giving hints that you were upset. Even if in silence.

Shauna doesn’t say anything at first but her eyebrows frowned almost instantly. It wasn’t like she didn’t know you at least a little bit to see through you, even if you had no idea, but she wasn’t expecting to hear that. Especially not now, out of the blue.

“I mean.” You sigh. It wasn’t the easiest thing for you to talk about what you felt and how all of these hidden feelings had such a deep impact on you. You couldn’t afford to maintain eye contact now and, just for a moment, you looked away. “Don’t get me wrong. I love Jackie, obviously. I just feel like…” You trail off. Maybe it was that time of the month again and you were extra sensitive or you just felt comfortable with Shauna, but something buried inside of you was begging to come out. The silence settles in for almost an entire minute. It wasn’t exactly awkwardness the thing that was hanging in the air but something very close to it. Once or twice, you would shift your eyes up from the dirty school floor to Shauna’s eyes just to make sure that she was still there.

“No, it’s okay. I get it.” She murmurs. Her eyes didn’t leave yours not even for a second. Even at different places and circumstances like at your own house or during the moments you were invited to hang out with the girls, she was always staring. Even when you weren’t aware of it, which was most of the times.

You were expecting to finally show signs of how bothered you were by the pressure of being Jackie’s sister. Of course that some of your closest friends like Van and Taissa knew that and always did their best to support you. (And by that, it meant that you would get to pick the movie for the movie night even though Van would complain about your choice as soon as the movie ended, pointing how badly written, directed or produced it was or how the actors sucked). But you weren’t expecting Shauna to understand you. She seemed to notice the surprised look in your eyes and it made the usual neutral and intimidating expression on her face softens. If you squint your eyes hard enough, you could almost see an empathetic smile.

“What do you mean? You are always glued to Jackie. You’re like her shadow. I remember going downstairs once to get some water and you were there at 2 a.m to grab Jackie a snack and I was terrified for a week. I’m surprised you don’t follow her to the bathroom.” You breath in, letting your voice show signs of vulnerability and even a playful feeling to it. And this time you weren’t crazy. Shauna was actually softening. You caught her lips twitching in a little smile and even making a sound that sounded like a laugh. When did Shauna begin to think that you were funny anyway?

“Look… All I’m saying is that I understand.” Shauna would never say anything bad about Jackie. Not explicitly. Not if she wasn’t bursting out with anger like she would do rarely or with small mean comments, which she would usually do if she felt like Jackie was being too bossy. You wouldn’t blame Jackie as well; she had her own personal problems. But somehow, Shauna was being comprehensive. She was there for you. “There’s things I can’t do because of Jackie too.”

There it was. Her words made you heart drop to your knees. You felt a cold sensation stinging on your body and now you were more focused than ever on the brown eyed girl right in front of you. Shauna had her back resting against a closed locker and her arms were still crossed, but it didn’t seem to contribute to her attempt of looking tough. You were definitely tired from cheerleading practice today and the stress from the finals combined to that probably made you imagine things when you saw Shauna’s eyes sparkling with something different when she said that looking at you. It felt like she was staring into your soul.

“I don’t… I can do whatever I want. Jackie isn’t the boss of my life.” You immediately say, clearly nervous and defensive. You feel a slight warmth in your cheeks when notice your struggle with expressing yourself and begin to overthink everything.

“Oh, really? Like when Jackie invited you to Mari’s birthday party last week but told you not to wear that dress cause yellow was her color?” Shauna smirked finally and her brown eyes were lighter. There was playfulness in her tone as well as a slight cockiness to it, she was proving a point. “Or when you had to talk to Randy Walsh once just because Jackie liked Jeff and his best friend was desperate for a date?”

The words Randy Walsh made your lips curl and your nose scrunch in disgust. That guy was awful. He even asked who invented the Pope once. He wasn’t even cute. Or charismatic. Or smart. It was safe to say that you weren’t very impressed by him. For the first time in that day, and even in weeks, you heard Shauna laugh at your reaction and half of the tension on your body faded away. You looked deeply into her eyes and you didn’t feel intimidated now. You smiled back. Well, it was still a small and sort of shy smile but it was there and it made your heart warm. You felt fuzzy while looking at her, noticing how a few hair strands would fall perfectly through the sides of her face and how her cheeks were still looking pinkish, probably from soccer practice from a few minutes ago.

“Maybe you’re right.” You finally admit. Shauna was ripping the truth out of you without even trying and you weren’t exactly opposed to it anymore. “But it’s not like I could do anything about it. Could you imagine what everyone would say if I told them that I’m into-“

“Girls?” Shauna finishes. One of her eyebrows is slightly raised. She wasn’t sounding judgy or rude, not even surprised, and you wondered why. Your body got stiff as a rock and you feel your forehead getting sweaty as a heat wave hits you. You were panicking. A lot. Enough to left you speechless.

“I went to your bedroom once last year when you were out. Jackie said that you had borrowed one of her books and she needed it to show me something and I swear I wasn’t looking for anything but you really need to hide your things better.” Shauna’s breath sounded heavy now. Was she tense? You definitely were.

Your mind was racing from thought to thought, thinking of all of the things that Shauna could’ve seen. And then it hits you. Since you were seven years old, you saw a movie from your childhood where the main character had a diary and you immediately fell in love with the idea of putting all of your feelings out with no consequences, instead of shoving them down. No one would see it anyway. At first it was just some silly little sentences about your day, about a kid stealing your favorite pen at school, about a lame day where you did nothing but stayed in your room and listening to Jackie all day or how your parents would fight over something idiotic. Then you entered high school and things changed. Suddenly losing your favorite toy wasn’t the hottest topic of your diary. Talking about how badly you hated those stupid boys from school but loved sitting close to girls in class cause it made you have butterflies on your stomach was the main thing going on. And you were lucky enough that your diary was left opened exactly on this page when Shauna entered your room. Fuck.

“You can’t tell anyone. Especially not Jackie. Do you understand how serious this is?” You immediately started to beg Shauna. Your voice was quieter now even though no one was around. Your cheeks were practically entirely covered by a bright shade of red and it was very easy to tell how nervous you were just by staring at you. Your fingers were playing with each other, fidgeting to avoid stress, your eyes were wide open and would barely blink. Your throat was tight with a feeling of having a huge lump stuck on it.

“Relax, okay? I won’t.” Shauna’s voice is quiet but soft now. Ot almost sounded like a whisper. A reassuring and genuine whisper. “It’s not like my journal isn’t full of embarrassing stuff as well.” She continues. It sounded like she was just trying to comfort you but it was actually true. You didn’t even know that she had a journal.

“Like…” Shauna takes a deep breath, taking a few steps closer to you. “Like how you look really good wearing those cheerleading skirts. And how cute your hair looks like with a blue and yellow ribbon on it.” Her breath catches on her throat when you look at her. Did she actually say those words or you were dreaming? Real or not, your heart was racing and you were feeling something different. A rush of excitement in your chest.

“You think so?” Your voice barely comes out. It sounded like a weak whisper. You couldn’t say much but the eye contact was intense and it would only get interrupted when Shauna would take a quick look at your lips. Taking another step in, her hand touched your cheek and it immediately made your body tremble. If your stomach was empty before, now it had tons of desperate butterflies.

Shauna simply nodded. Her eyes remained completely focused on yours, something shifting away and slowly tracing down to your lips. Your own eyes were doing the same, not scared to show how badly you wanted to find out how it felt to kiss her. And being quite honest, Shauna seemed to want the same thing. Finally, she begins to lean in and closes her eyes and you do the same. The next thing you feel is her soft lips pressed right against yours and it felt like the world around you had stopped. It took you a while to kiss her back. At first you just stood there like you were frozen in place. Paralyzed by the thought of trying to understand if this was actually happening, with your hands hanging in the air. But then you slowly let yourself get lost into her. When you both began to feel more comfortable, Shauna’s hands moved down to your waist firmly and your hands touched the soft and smooth skin of her cheeks. You were so close to each other that you could smell her perfume. Not too sweet but addicting and not too strong now once the day was almost over. Okay. Maybe you had feelings for Shauna.

She was the one who pulled away first. It took you some time to finally open your eyes, the idea of looking at Shauna after she kissed you was almost unbearable but in an actual good way. Now, that terrifying sensation of panic that was tightening your chest was all gone and you could only feel the warmth of your own cheeks and the one that would exhale through Shauna’s hands that remained on your waist. You finally opened your eyes, Shauna was looking at you with curious and dreamy eyes.

You were both heavy breathers now when Shauna finally broke the silence. “Am I still the last person you would kiss?” She teased you with a hoarse tone. Her lips were slightly puffy and red thanks to the kiss you two shared. You didn’t say a thing but your lips were struggling to stay still. Everything was too overwhelming and you found yourself losing the battle as the corners of your mouth got wider. You were smiling from ear to ear like a fool. That was probably what you were when it came to Shauna anyway. You were about to open your mouth to defend yourself but a masculine voice interrupted you. You both look towards the locker room entrance to see the assistant coach, Ben, with raised eyebrows and an angry stare directly at you. You immediately knew why. No cheerleaders.

“I should really go now.” You use your head to point towards the coach. Your voice was sounding thinner now and in a higher pitch than it usually was, showing signs of how dazed you were and how Shauna was the only thing going through your mind right now. Shauna slowly took her hands away from your waist. “But maybe we could, like, hang out after you come back from the nationals?” You could barely contain your smile now, walking backwards while not looking away from Shauna.

“Definitely. I can’t wait to come back.” Shauna was smirking back at you while biting her lower lip.

#shauna shipman x reader #shauna shipman #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader

[mattbegins]

I’ve rewatched the scene with Bobby talking to Eddie so many times because it really reads like Bobby has some idea that what Eddie’s actually unknowingly struggling with is something in regards to his sexuality, and everything he talks about are things I had begun coming to terms with in the last two weeks as I’ve questioned my own sexuality so this conversation was really personal to me because hearing Bobby lay that out for Eddie immediately resolved my own crisis and now I’m certain I’m not bi- I’m gay (and demi). Which is a huge thing for me to realize because I’ve identified as bi ever since I started dating 8 years ago. But Eddie’s struggle and confusion makes all the sense in the world to me because I had/have the same questions as him and struggled to reconcile the clear feelings and care I had for women/femme presenting people I’ve dated, but I always felt like I was playing a part (“performing” as Eddie called it) and while I knew the lines and cues and it was easy to do, something was always missing. I felt like I was doing something ‘right’ and there was a sense of relief in that, something adjacent to happiness, but it always came up short. I would love talking with and hanging out with these partners and had been good friends prior to dating, but driving home I would wonder why I didn’t feel giddy or whole. Why I could never initiate physical contact. Why I could only objectively acknowledge that they looked beautiful, but that never translated to attraction. Why I couldn’t imagine futures together. But I liked these people. I cared about them. It was confusing. And after each inevitable break up I questioned if I just wasn’t meant for relationships.

But when Bobby validated those feelings and pointed out that Eddie doesn’t have commitment issues in general, it only seems to apply to women in his life, I thought about my relationships with men. My two longest relationships lasted 6 months and 3 years respectively, and they were with other men. My last crush was on a man. Flirting with men comes easier, I feel more loose and giddy in a surprisingly enjoyable way, I become more charismatic and at ease, I can show physical affection and compliment, and when I think about the future- road trips and grocery runs, school pick ups and drop offs, falling asleep on the couch or in the passenger seat- I see that with another man.

I think of me, and I think of Eddie. He and Shannon were friends as children and were close for years before they started dating, but only got married because she was pregnant and there was strong religious influence and social factors pressuring them. He cared about her though, he liked her, just as he cared about and liked Ana and Marisol. Those base feelings are valid, but the extent to which they manifest is dissonant for him. The idea of these relationships never matches up to the reality. It’s a performance and it’s a role he’s uncomfortable playing but has gotten used to because he didn’t know how to question it and he’s already learned the lines and blocking. He expresses he prefers being single because he can just hang out with guys because it’s less complicated, but he’s not at the point of questioning the source of that ease. He can’t commit to his girlfriend moving into his house, but he can commit to making Buck the guardian of his son in his will. He forges infinitely stronger bonds with the men in his life and we see a side of him that’s less conflicted, more at ease, more honest and silly, and freer than any time he’s with a woman.

Eddie Diaz made me realize I’m gay, so yeah, I’m pretty certain he is too.

#911 spoilers #thank you bobby nash #this was so helpful and liberating for me #eddie diaz #911 abc

[freeuselandonorris]

Umm hi. I am here to get some big sibling life stories and comfort from your asks again. I noticed you anwered one ask that if you knew the term you would have identify as ageosexual for years. Can you like what changed? What made you found the kink side? Why were you volunteraly not having sex for years? I am just personally really struggling with my own sexuality and letting people close is hard to figure out if I am just scared or on a-spectre. (Don't feel pressure to answer)

hi little sibling anon! ❤️

so, i've always been a very highly sexual person mentally, but to me the high sex drive (i am CONSTANTLY thinking about sex and have been pretty much since i hit puberty) is not actually all that linked to the desire to have physical sex, if that makes sense.

between the ages of 17-22, i had almost uniformly miserable sex. i was struggling with various mental illnesses and horrifically poor impulse control mixed with binge drinking, so my sex life between those years mainly consisted of, at best, drunken one night stands, and at worse - well, i'm sure you can imagine. so at some point i just kind of swore off the whole thing, thought i'd maybe just take a six month break or whatever... and that somehow turned into about eight years. and honestly, i didn't miss it. i read fic a lot, i masturbated pretty much every day, but i rarely had the desire for sex and i never fantasised about myself (hence my comment about ageosexuality).

i can't pinpoint one moment that changed. part of it was just getting more mentally healthy in general, part of it was coming off birth control that had artificially dampened my sex drive (fuck you, progesterone-only pill!), part of it was meeting a partner online and being able to develop our sex life in a way that felt doable (i.e. a lot of sexting) before we met in person. and it was at that point that i started getting into kink more seriously (i'd always known i was attracted to it - even as a kid, before i understood what kink was, i was attracted to the same stuff i sexualise now), and that was a revelation. honestly, even now i could probably live pretty cheerfully without 'standard' sex for the rest of my life (assuming i was allowed to jerk off lol), but i couldn't live without some sort of kink practice. even now, i don't actually have sex/practice partnered kink that often! it's generally about once a month. but i think about/talk about/write about sex constantly thanks to my delicious feral friends and mutuals, and that to me is a fulfilling sex life. would i welcome partnered sex/kink more often if the opportunity presented? sure. could i live without it? absolutely.

ALL THIS TO SAY (long-winded and oversharing as usual) that sexuality can and does change! for me, part of it was undoubtedly fear from previous bad experiences, but part of it was simply that i hadn't yet understood what my sexuality did consist of. and that is something that comes with time, and with being honest with yourself. of course some people know from a very young age that they're ace and live their entire lives without that changing, in the same way that some people have always known they were gay or straight or any other sexual identity. but equally, for plenty of people, it changes over time, and that doesn't make it any more or less valid.

soooo if i'm going to give you some big-sibling advice, i would say that of course you can define yourself in a way that fits you and feels good to you, but that definition doesn't have to be a one-time-only thing. you are allowed to see your sexuality as a fluid thing that shifts over time, whether that's due to circumstances or simply who you are as a person changing. if you don't want to let people close to you right now, then you don't have to (and in fact i'd recommend you don't, for a little while at least, because it doesn't sound like you're enjoying the experiences you do have currently), but you don't have to assign a definition to it if that doesn't feel right. and conversely, you can assign a term to describe it to yourself and others and then change that term in the future if it doesn't fit anymore. you can say to yourself: 'okay, i don't want to have sex at the moment', and that can be enough.

#answered

[cowboyjen68]

Hi Jen, I have a question about types and butch/femme stuff. I’m a butch (or at the very least androgynous) and I’ve only ever been attracted to other butch/gnc/androgynous women. It’s what helped me realize I was a lesbian, because I was never attracted to femmes I thought I could never be gay. I’ve never seen feminine women as attractive and I don’t see why I ever would.

But I feel like I’m the only butch in the world who is exclusively into other butches. Every other butch I see/know is always with a femme, even the ones that say they are attracted to both. I already felt so isolated before coming out and now im stuck with that same feeling in a new environment.

Do you have any advice for anything like this? Or advice for feeling alone in our community?

(p.s. I don’t hate femmes, people seem to get this idea when I tell them they are not my type)

FIrst let me say to your PS. In no circumstances does not being attracted to someone or some type equate to hate. We like what we like and no one else gets a say in that. We don't need to exprience sexual or other physical or emotional attraction to someone in order to prove that we don't hate them. People that think that should probably be avoided because they are placing way too much pressure on others to push personal boundaries and that is unfair and even dangerous.

I know plenty of butches who are butch4butch and several are close friends. At least one or two have mentioned thinking the same kind of things you have dealt with, about butches only like femmes. My experience and my opinion is that butches and femmes exist seperately from each other. Ones does not rely on the other to exist. They are independant identities.

The majority of my lesbian friends are neither butch nor femme and date whomever they find attractive. I believe same goes for butches and femmes. We date and form relationships with those we find most physically and emotionally attractive to us. Plenty of butches don't dates femmes or even other butches.

When I broke up with my femme first girlfriend I convinced myself that I should like other butches because we could relate to each other more and I ended up with a butch for 17 years. THIS was a mistake. We were friends (sometimes) but really held no real passion for each other.

It is like we got so deep in trying to make our marriage last so as not to be a failure that we ignored the fact that neither of us held any attraction for the other. Once we addressed the face that we both almost exclusively attracted to femmes, or at least women more feminine than us we split up. She went on to meet and fall very much i happy love with a femme. I too went on to embrace my attraction to more feminine women.

My point is, do not fight your natural attraction. Don't let other people or any community tell you who or what you are supposed to be attracted to. Be honest with yourself and what ignites your passion. Who gives you the warm fuzzies and make you feel giddy.

If you have any chance to attend a women's festival or event I would suggest it. When I was young and struggling, still unsure what butch was or meant, and in fact having a lot of false ideas about it, seeing a lot of women of all body types and styles really helped me to see that I did fit. I met my first set of butches at one and was like "whoa.. I see me" and they showed me I could be just me.

It took me years to understand that also meant I could date whomever made me happy and not just the next woman who was nice. Or that I had to avoid my true attraction because that was acting "too much like a man" or being predatory to like feminine women. Listen to your own heart and find friends who will honor that.

#butch4butch #lesbian #butch femme #butch #dating

[somin-yin]

sangwoo!

Thank you so much @squid-guts, I literally love you for sending me Sangwoo because he's my favourite character in Squid Game and it's been so long since I've written something about him ❤️

Sexuality headcanon: GAY, SANGWOO IS DEFINITELY GAY. He's so queer coded and doesn't have an ounce of heterosexuality in him. He was even super offended when Gi-hun asked him if he has a girlfriend 😂

OTP: Sangihun all the way ❤️ first off, I love the friends to enemies to lovers trope, and secondly, you simply cannot tell me they didn't date in high school, if you say they didn't, you're lying. These 2 have history and it's very obvious, all that bad blood from Sangwoo towards Gi-hun has to come from somewhere 🤷‍♀️ Also they're INTJ x ESFP, they're each other's polar opposite and that makes up for a juicy dynamic ❤️

BROTP: Ali and Sangwoo, Sangwoo seems to have a soft spot for Ali but I see them as brothers only to be honest 🤷‍♀️

NOTP: Sangwoo x ...Il Nam? Sangwoo x Sae Byeok too sorry ;-; but I don't judge whoever ships them.

First headcanon that pops into my head: As I said, one of my biggest headcanons is that they were together in the past. And that they had a VERY nasty break up. When they use to date, everything was awesome but then Sangwoo went to SNU, and Gi-hun didn't wait for him and got married, Sangwoo got bitter towards him and buried his feelings all those years. Then when he saw Gi-hun again in the games, he felt anger and resentment towards him but he acted as if he didn't care (he was just pretending, Sangwoo cares a lot but he pretends), that resentment pushed him to wanting revenge and not warning him in game 2, even if that would mean Gi-hun would be killed, he wanted to convince himself that he had no feelings for Gi-hun and that he wouldn't care if he dies or not but after he did that he regretted it so much that he realised he still has feelings for Gi-hun, but it was too late and there was no way to stop the game, so he left Gi-hun's survival to chance, which he hated and was so angry at himself for it, he had some serious emotional pain when the game was ongoing, then Gi-hun survived and he felt so relieved, he was still mad and resentful but he realised he still has feelings for him despite everything and we know the rest, just Sangwoo struggling about not being over his first love. If Gi-hun hadn't survived Sangwoo would have never forgiven himself and would have unalived himself, we know Sangwoo is suic*dal.

Favorite line from this character: “I'll pick, okay?” -proceeds to push man off the bridge- (sorry ;-;)

One way in which I relate to this character: Okay time to get serious here, I relate to him getting embarrassed and uncomfortable whenever Gi-hun bragged about Sangwoo's accomplishments and being considered the genius of his neighbourhood because I've been there too, whenever people brag about me I get so uncomfortable because when people know that you went to an elite college or they consider you smart, they place very high and unrealistic expectations on you and you have to live with those expectations on your shoulders, which is a huge weight and you somehow are forced to live up to the expectations of others. Perhaps that's why he invested in futures and stocks, because he wanted to live up to the very high expectations people placed on him. It is really very uncomfortable when other people brag about your accomplishments, if you have been in that situation in the past you may understand how uncomfortable it is. Your close ones feeling proud is pretty much appreciated but other people don't need to know, precisely because of the high expectations they will inevitable place on you. For Sangwoo it's better to lay low, also because he's an introvert (extreme introverts will understand this). This gets even worse in Asian societies. As a person of Asian descent myself, let me tell you the pressure is hard!! the expectations are hard, you are expected to succeed so your parents can brag about you and if you don't, they see you as a failure, so in a way I can understand Sangwoo, that's why he ended up there in the games, he didn't want to disappoint anyone.

Thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character: He not admitting his gayness and feelings about Gi-hun is very cringy.

Cinnamon roll or problematic fave? Problematic fave all the way, but he's still one of the most complex and nuanced characters in the show ❤️

Sorry for the walls of text about Sangwoo but he's so layered that I can't help it. Also tagging @moonlitdayy since she asked me about Sangihun so here's the Sangwoo part. I'll reply to the Gi-hun part next ❤️ (It pains me to see the Squid Game fandom ded, I miss it ;-;). Adding Sangwoo's songs just because I can and because I'll take every opportunity to talk about Sangwoo:

#squid game #cho sang woo #cho sangwoo #ask #sangwoo x gihun #seong gihun #sangihun #gi hun squid game #netflix #hhhhh #ask game

[thelesbianpoirot]

I don’t understand how you can say you’re a certain sexuality but then not interact with the other person’s genitals at all during sex…or not have sex at all, I don’t understand. Like maybe I’d be classified as a low libido bottom but I still want to do things to women and with women cause I’m attracted to them and it feels good and I want them to feel good? I think some of these asexual lesbians just want close female friendship, or a lifelong female friendship in which they are affectionate in a way you might be with a sibling or close friend and they think that’s the same as being a lesbian? Like I understand the whole oh let’s hold hands and go on a picnic stuff because that is cute and romantic but if you’re attracted to each other wouldn’t you also want to have sex with each other? If not it seems like you just want a wholesome and close friendship which is totally understandable but doesn’t make you a lesbian

Me too anon. I can't make this any clearer. I understand certain sex, i.e penetration being to strenuous and invasive for some gay people. Some lesbians don't enjoy dildo penetration or fingering. Some gay men are very much against bottoming or topping anally. That is intensive sex that require preparedness, safety and commitment to keeping things clean/fun. I can understand that. But you can't look at pussy directly and desire it enough to put your mouth on it, desire to touch it, to watch as you bring a woman to orgasm, please reconsider if lesbianism is right for you. There is a difference of preference, and disgust/disinterest. I am fine with female centered celibacy, I think in this world women should have full control of our bodies and not be pressured to conform to the wishes of others. We are not things to be used. However, I think female celibacy is being mistaken as lesbianism. It is being made synonymous with lesbianism. So quite a few women with no sexual desire for women are hijacking our community once again. It is alienating lesbians who do want to fuck, like my high libido is one of the reasons why I considered transitioning to be a man, like I felt freakish sexually desiring women on the level I do. It felt masculine and gross. Portrayals of lesbianism I saw never represented raw sexual desire, unless it is through a male lens (two straight actresses performing for the camera) or family friendly neutered-married lesbian celebrity. You go on a dating app, talk to a girl for two months, she never wants to meet up and have sex. She's using the lesbian dating app to try to find lasting female friendship, someone to share her daily struggles with and that is nice all but it makes me feel like a creepy dude on there like "Do any of you actually like pussy?"

"But I am not attracted to men" yes, honey that is the first thing to question, however, lesbianism is female exclusive sexual attraction to other females. If you don't experience this, consider that you aren't a homosexual, and should in fact stick to trying to find lasting female friendships. I try not to be mean, because I am blessed enough to live my roommate, and best friend of 10 years. We go on bar/dinner dates together, celebrate each other's birthdays, her family is my family and when she has a child, she even considers raising it with me, if she isn't married to the father. I love this relationship. But my friend also wouldn't touch another woman's pussy with a ten-foot pole, and I have needs. I love the closeness, but there is something really missing to consider this a lesbian relationship, and it is physical intimacy. I need physical intimacy with a woman, that is a healthy lesbian desire.

No disrespects to low libido lesbians, who have a specific type of woman who can turn them on, or only want to fuck once a month for a few hours, or lesbians who would never consider hooking up with a strange woman online, I respect your boundaries. You are lesbians. What I don't respect is women running from pussy like it's the plague. Calling into the date sick when ask to return the favor and eat some pussy. Draft dodging the pussy!

#thelesbianpoirot #asexual lesbian

[nownothingcantouchyou]

Hi ik this might be TMI for you but I was hoping to just unload here. Basically I go back and forth on whether I’m straight/bi/lesbian/asexual so much, I have like no experience with women but I would like to date a girl. But anyway in my friendship group some of the girls are gay and another bi. I haven’t said anything bc I feel uncomfortable re sexuality but one was saying to the other about how they could tell they had bi vibes compared to the rest of us ~straight~ girls. (1)

hey! this sounds pretty tough and i'm sorry this is taking up so much of your time.

to start off, i have some experience with your situation! it took me a long time to say i was a lesbian. i identified differently for a little bit and nothing ever felt right until i realized i was a lesbian. in my experience, it doesn't just stop at saying i'm a lesbian. i had to process it and accept it and then actually Talk about it. which is all so daunting. a lot of it had to do with my self-conflict. i also definitely relate to the feeling of faking being attracted to women. i dealt with this too. sometimes i still do. it's extremely difficult!

i interpret the first part of your message as maybe you're dealing with some self-conflict too? if so, my one piece of advice (if you want it) is to let go of needing to meet your own expectations. it'll do more harm than good. also easier said than done! and it sounds like your friends are also putting pressure on you? i'm sorry if i'm overstepping, but they seem to make you very uncomfortable. maybe they don't mean to! but also... it does seem like their perception/opinion of sexuality as a whole is creating some struggle for you, which is a lot when your self-discovery is already so difficult to navigate.

in my mind, your sexuality should be something that brings you joy, regardless of how you identify. it's a salient part of your identity and it shouldn't be a stressor in your life. it shouldn't be something you have to figure out right now either. the coolest thing about this stage of discovery is that you literally have no idea what you're doing because it's ever-changing. this is also the hardest thing about it. you can take this slowly. and you don't have to have a name for it yet. who cares what people think of that? please, please, pleeeeease do what makes you happy and what you feel most comfortable with. in my experience, jumping head-first into something you're not totally ready for is very hard to recover from. listen to what your mind and body tell you, and go at your own pace. if your friends are on dating apps and you feel like you should be but it's something that you feel uncomfortable with, then you might not be ready. and that's totally okay!!!! you don't have to be ready for any of it. you certainly don't have to start dating if you don't want to either. i'm 20. i'm a very young person. i've identified as a lesbian for four years and i think of myself as a late-bloomer. i don't have experience with dating at all. even before i realized i was a lesbian. i've just never dated. and i was a lot happier when i realized that my journey is going to be different from every other person's journey. you don't have to have all the answers right now. and if people can't understand you for not having it all figured out yet, then they do not serve you.

now i don't really have advice for how to figure out which label best fits how you feel. i wish i could give you the magic key tbh! for me, it was like trying on tons of costumes until i found the one that made me feel like me. again, easier said than done.

ultimately, it's important not to stress yourself out or to let others stress you out. the ability to say you want to date a woman seems out of reach now, but that's okay too. and btw, bi-curiosity is cool!!!!!! my thing is like... who cares. if you aren't hurting anyone, then literally WHO CARES. sexuality is so hard to figure out on its own. added stressors in your environment make it unattainable. so i definitely get you!!!! this took me soooooo long to figure out and i think what makes it worse is that there's SO much to navigate. you might already know this, but keep in mind that you're not the only one who feels or has felt this way. this is very common! :)

anyway. i hope this was at least a little helpful!!!? if you ever want to talk, message me anytime. i really don't mind! seriously. i hope this gets easier for you and i wish you the best. don't be hard on yourself. take care! <3

[platy-with-a-pencil]

WHERE ARE THE BISEXUALS?

Personal essay submitted to the zine The Femme Voice (2018)

Be it on TV or in daily life, for many years I struggled to find bisexual role models and spaces. Too straight to fit in with the gays, too gay to fit in with the straights. Bisexuals have their own set of struggles which few people outside of the spectrum will bother to understand. 

In my early teens, there was a ‘bisexual boom’ in school. It was the first time I thought about labelling myself. Despite the ‘boom’, things were confusing as most people seemed to only want the label on a superficial, verbal level. Eventually, I ended up dating a classmate who I’d fancied for a while. One of my friends, who was throwing a birthday party on the weekend, pulled me aside and said my girlfriend and I couldn’t be together at the party because it’d make people uncomfortable. It upset me a lot, but not as much as when the relationship ended. Since then I discovered that dating boys is a lot simpler as they are an easy catch. Around that time I also realised that when we were gossiping excitedly about dating, my romance stories were simply not welcome if they featured a girl.

Some years later, watching Orange Is The New Black one night, Piper’s reluctance to ever come out to her parents as bisexual irritated me, as her family pressured her to decide ‘which team’ she played for. 

It was isolating and frustrating. 

Creators are still hesitant to use the word “bisexual”, the sexuality which shall not be named. I had now started university and had access to a lot of academic books on sexuality and despite this topic not being related to my main area of study I’d spend countless hours reading, doing research and compiling media and books which discussed relationships between women. Gay men have the biggest chunk of attention in mainstream media. Lesbians have a lot less in comparison, but still much more than bisexuals. Bi characters are usually portrayed as evil, using their sexuality as a means to achieve their goal. In contrast, they can be given the choice of sacrificing themselves for the greater good. Often, they end up with a man and if in a twist of fate they end up in a same-sex relationship, they are promptly killed. The message these characters are sending is clear: bisexuals don’t deserve a happy ending unless they end up with a man, and by doing so their identity is erased. 

When I decided to officially come out to a small group of friends, it went great, except my best friend (who happens to be gay) brushed me off by saying I was only doing it for the attention. Bisexual started to feel like a dirty word and it wasn’t the first time I felt like this. Was I just confused about myself? I started to question whether I really liked women to be different or if it was genuine. Suddenly there were many boxes that I didn’t tick:  I hadn’t had sex with a woman, I hadn’t kissed as many girls as I had boys, I didn’t frequent any LGBT+ spaces.

Where were the real bisexuals? I needed them to evaluate whether I dressed appropriately enough to be part of the group.

I signed up to a couple of dating apps only to see several women who openly wrote “no bisexuals” on their profiles. Meanwhile, I joined an LGBT+ society and failed to blend in with the crowd, hearing blatant biphobia from other queer people in that space. 

It’s nothing against Bis, you do you, it’s just that they’re a risky gamble.

Speaking to a lesbian friend, she warned me that some LGBT bars were known for barring anyone that didn’t look a certain way from entering. I tried anyway and met more straight girls than I knew what to do with.

So, to tally up the results I had failed miserably in integrating myself with the gays and I hadn’t met any other bisexuals in the process. 

In 2018, the infamous Netflix series ‘Insatiable’ airs. Expecting nothing but a weak excuse for a comedy, I was surprised to find an extremely relatable character called Bob Armstrong. Lawyer by day and beauty pageant coach by night, he has a wife he’s ardently in love with, despite his very feminine mannerisms and eye for fashion. Bob eventually receives a confession from another man and in a turn of events the two end up making out, leaving Bob confused: "Bisexuals are like demons or aliens. They don't exist." After experiencing identity and spiritual crisis, Bob decides “If [...] demons were real, maybe bisexuals were too.” Thus I found my life motto. There are positive bi icons out there, they are few, but they deserve recognition. Annalise Keating in How to Get Away With Murder, the lawyer with an unbeatable mind and Rosa Diaz in Brooklyn 99, a stony-faced police officer whose coming out was perfectly handled by the show.

It was becoming clear to me that I am who I am, despite not ticking imaginary boxes of what the Ideal Bisexual is like. The real issue here was something else. There is an agenda trying to silence and bury bisexual identities. To make matters worse, I had taken it on myself.

Recently, I went to a local kink night. I dabbled in BDSM for a couple of years now and in my experience, it’s much more of a safe space than groups with an LGBT stamp on them. I’d be barred at the entrance for not having enough kink gear on, but never for “not looking gay enough.” During the event, I got talking to a cute girl who was new to the local scene. Between drinks, she revealed her bisexuality. There was that immediate spark of excitement. We instantly connected, sharing our stories and struggles related to our identity. Unfortunately, we didn’t exchange numbers, but at least I know bisexuals exist after all. 

#bisexuality #bi positivity #bi struggles #personal post

[thelostrainbowthenovel]

*When you're feeling anxious and down so you write your characters feeling anxious and down. It's free therapy lol*

But yeah, this was a little story I had worked on the last couple of days, of something I wanted to write for a few reasons. One reason being that I really just wanted to write a story again, and because I need to get back into writing my novel, I felt writing something small would help get my writing motivation and juices flowing again. The other reason, and the subject of this particular story, was so I could finally write something to showcase Brooke's bond with Shannon! :3 I first shared Shannon over a year ago, and it has always been an idea in the back of my mind to write something for them. Since Shannon is Brooke's closest friend(aside from his older sister), I wanted to write something that showcased the deep understanding and trust that they share with only each other.

Though it is not explicitly stated and only implied in the story, this takes place when they are 16 years old, several months before the "Confession" story. This particular story idea has been one playing in my head a lot, of Brooke finally confessing his feelings for a guy to his best friend. Brooke and Shannon's friendship is one of my top favorites in my story/universe, as it is so special and important not just to me as the writer, but also for their characters. With how judging and traditional-minded their kingdom of Mareas is, neither thought growing up that they could make genuine friends that they could be completely honest with. It is not until they are in their early teens do they meet and connect, but there was always something comforting about the other for them. Especially during their early teen years, where life sucks and they are all hormonal and moody, it was so nice for them to have someone they considered a real friend. They did briefly date for about a month at one point out of social pressure, but that period gave them so much to learn about not just their own selves, but also the other and allowed them to become closer friends. They have opened about so much to each other; their insecurities, struggles with their mental health, problems fitting into their society and living up to everyone’s expectations, and so much more that they don’t always feel comfortable sharing with other people. One of these things was their sexualities(Brooke being gay, and Shannon being ace), as they both felt a relief when they found out the other was not straight since it not only helped explain why their brief relationship didn’t work out, but also because they now had someone to relate to in that area and feel safe talking about that part of themselves with.

Kind of brief on the subject of mental health, since this story focuses on Brooke more I also wanted to take this story as another chance to explore his. He has both depression and anxiety, and while his mental health has always fluctuated between being good/okay and bad, it was especially bad during his teen years. While he was never really bullied or harassed, he still had a lot of trauma from his childhood caused by his parents, and dealt with people either not understanding or not trying to understand him, but dismissing his struggles as attention-seeking or trouble-making. It also doesn't help that there are parts of himself that many people would talk down on, so he usually puts on a more happy facade to deter people from seeing the darker parts of himself. While it is not stated as much in the story, Shannon has had similar struggles in her life and also has depression. She has some anxiety but not to the extent of Brooke's, but it was her who felt brave enough to speak up first and start these conversations with each other.

The vibe is kind of all-over the place with this one(I also just wrote as words came to me, so this hasn't been edited much), but I wanted something that both focused more on the mental health side, while adding in some of the playfulness Brooke and Shannon has as best friends(while also exploring more of why Brooke likes Nate, since I focused a little more on why Nate likes Brooke in the "Confession" story). I know this description is a lot lol, but I wanted to explain things a little bit more and I hope you enjoy reading the story! <3

#the lost rainbow #my writing #main characters #side characters #mareas #brooke alagona #shannon ayers #brooke #shannon

[delirium-mind]

How did you find out that you also like girls. Was it hard for you to accept that part of you?

It was always something that was kind of there. When I grew up and hit that stage that we all do where we start to be curious sexually, I was exposed to erotica type blogs and stories because ya know...parents didn't monitor us. But anyways, I found stories about girls having their first lesbian experiences. And it fascinated me, but I always kept it a secret and never really..I guess acknowledged what that part of me was or that it was real. As I've grown up its popped up here and there in various was (my attraction to women) and I had a few very minor experiences. I still wouldn't really acknowledge it though, I kept only really considering men. But I reached this point where ..I'm not sure. I guess I saw it around me enough that it was so normalized. It stopped feeling like a dirty secret I've had since I was a child and just felt like..yeah I love people and that can also include women.

It was definitely..confusing and difficult. I was raised in a household in a time where I wasn't always aware of what it was to be gay, and when I first learned what gay was it was..scandalous taboo..wrong or dirty. I have a gay cousin, and it just wasn't something we ever really acknowledged. And behind his back, or when he stirred up trouble (he did a lot, nothing to do with being gay) his gayness was used to be a mark against him. Even when eventually I did theatre and befriended many gay people, even my family befriending some of them...still gayness was not something truly accepted to be ok. Still people would support anti gay politics and beliefs. So it felt like a dirty shameful thing for a long time that I had these feelings. I kept them to myself for so many years and never really explored them for ages. I just felt like I had so many different pressures from everyone to fit a mold, an idea they had of who I should be and I was constantly breaking every single one of them and being such a disappointment. The disappointment was always ill recieved. I couldn't wear what I wanted, my self expression and discovery was completely controlled and cut off. I wasn't about to also add this to that mix. I lived online though, IMVU and shit. I had several long distance relationships, which did include women. It took years of my adult life to really figure out who I am and in truth I feel like I'm still settling in.

Theres obviously the stigma and prejudice, especially from older generations and family. People being scared of unknown, different, unpredictable or what they believe to be so horribly offensive to their own religious beliefs. I grew up in a very complicated and abusive household so I was also in no hurry to make anything worse. But I was also so used to being rejected or whatever for other parts of myself. I'm short, I have big boobs, eczema..crazy hair. Piercings. Colorful hair. Tattoos. I dress differently, I have always been different, in a million different ways and I guess I finally was like.. fuck it. A million and one wont mean shit.

I think that accepting I was attracted to women, and that it was ok ..was more about accepting that some people wouldn't agree, and that it was still ok anyways. That I am not here to please others. My purpose is to please myself, to do what makes me happy not what makes others feel comfortable.

It was hard because of the insecurity, the fear of others reactions or possible rejection of me. In the end of it all, your happiness is yours and it's all about what makes you feel good and happy. Not what others will judge to be right or wrong. And if you, or I kept/continue to live in fear of that, refusing to love and accept and embrace these parts of ourselves..then we will be destroying our own potential for love and joy. No matter what you do, there will always be someone who disagrees with your choices. Do not let them ruin your happiness. We all already have so much struggle and pain, don't add to it unnecessarily. Love is magic, and everybody deserves it.

**addition

I also have several health problems. I almost died, several times. The first at 15. I became aware of my own mortality very early and how important and fragile my my life is. How easy it can disappear, and how much I felt like I almost missed out ever having the chance to feel or do or see or say. Suddenly pleasing others started to matter less and less. In the grandscheme...the opinions of others hardly mean shit. Especially when most of the time they aren't going to stick around when I need a safe place, protection or support..so on and so on. And as for family or specifically parents..their job is to love you. Unconditionally. If they cant love and accept me as I am, thats their failure. Not mine.

[inky-thoughts]

Hi I want to know more about Endres, what are his inspirations? Both the character itself/story and design.

oh this is a long one, he changed so much and it's not quite clear-cut ^^;

initially, he was just from a 2-part sketch I did in high school while dipping my toe into the realm of Gay FeelingsTM for the first time. I felt it was safer to explore it through portraying men because I'm a girl! so looking at two good-looking men and being into it wasn't weird! although the thing that I was really into was the intimacy and same-gender attraction (I mean I'm bi so I still do enjoy a nice man when I see one).

(only found the 1st one of the sketches)

doing these sketches, he was mostly inspired by an even older somewhat antagonist from a story I scrapped, who in turn was highkey inspired by Jeoffrey Baratheon from Game of Thrones (and latently queer-coded because baby Inky didn't know why she found those villains so alluring). so you may not see it with his personality now but Jeoffrey was one of the reasons he exists!

a few years later, I didn't know what to draw so a girl loves recycling and did a redraw of above sketch but I just felt like switching it up. I was kinda bored of lieges just taking whatever and whoever they wanted, instead I just found a slightly hesitant prince who had a crush on his guard a bit more intriguing.

that redraw was choke-full of happy little accidents, like Endres getting his two moles under his right eye (it was just poorly erased lineart but it's endearing to me so it stayed), longer hair because I just love that in a man, darker complexion because it's just beautiful.

he obviously still changed a bit from that, like how his hair got considerably much longer, or his eyebrows thicker, but I think a lot of his design choices were just because they're beautiful. the idea of looking at a man and just thinking 'he's beautiful' because we rarely think of men like that.

he didn't really start out with a story in mind, it was just "a prince and his soldier" harking back to courtly love and similar romances. but he (and Caspar, his soldier) kept rotating in my brain and I was wondering a lot about their circumstances and whatnot, and I started to spin their story and characters.

aaaaand it got kinda out of hand.

Endres is the first male protagonist outside of fanfics that I wrote, and a lot of his themes are about subverting the tropes he is made of. he lost his parents to a political coup, yet he doesn't swear revenge but instead tries to get behind why it happened. he has a lot of respect for his sister who is now the queen as the eldest child, and he doesn't question her claim to the throne unless it were to question the institution of monarchy itself. how teens and preteens still are no adults and expecting them to step up when adults fail builds immense pressure upon them.

then also he has major themes of trauma and grief and recovery, maybe it's a little too much therapeutic writing, but who cares? the struggle of regaining your personhood afterwards with his violently cut hair slowly regrowing, the relapse of cutting his own hair to the point of bleeding. not knowing how your family reacts to a reunion after almost a decade of no contact. grieving the youth you could've had but someone took from you.

in his design, you'll notice a lot of blue, turquoise, greens and golds, akin of peacocks, another frequent motif for him, for one a symbol of royalty but also male beauty and sexuality that wants to please and be looked at, which usually is considered rather feminine. he is beautiful but undeniably still a man. he's there to be confusing to others. if he presents a bisexual crisis, that's the goal. and he'll be confident about it.

this type of design for him when he's in his early to mid-20s is a semi-casual court attire heavily influenced from Goryeo and Joseon period hanbok, Song Dynasty hanfu, and Edwardian period blouses/lingerie dresses with other influences by the Safavid period and Indian patterns/motifs. he loves to dress up but it's still tasteful and not overtly showing wealth, it's casual, leasurely, pretty much like his fairly hedonistic lifestyle at that time, though he still wouldn't dress vulgarly, he's properly buttoned up and wears his sigils with the chest chains, his tassles, and the jewelry. as adult but not the head of his family he wears his hair in a half-updo if he is off-duty, and while it's styled orderly, it's not rigid as he has some free-falling strands framing his face.

compare that to his 17/18-year-old self where he wears his apprentice uniform absolutely properly, with his hair almost completely braided out of his face and one long braid in the back as most minors wear it. he gives himself much less leeway and hasn't come into himself quite yet. while his family isn't poor, they also don't come from money, so his clothes tend to be much plainer and less full in volume. this also makes him, while still handsome, much more plain-looking and more of a crowd character, also by design.

I probably could write a whole ass doctor thesis on him but I hope this will do for now, I've been trying to answer this ask for way too long already XD

you unlocked my ramble mode! so thank you/congrats :D

#tell it inky #endres #httc #heirs to the crown #inky rambles #idk i feel like i could ramble on forever im sorry #idek if that even answers your question remotely but at least i tried

[watermelonlovershigh]

hi I just wanted you to know that I loved your post about coming out online ❤️ I’ve been “struggling” (for lack of a better word) with my own sexuality as well as being openly myself. everyone has always assumed which box I fit in so it put a lot of pressure to be queer or be straight never being able to just figure it out on my own. this is the first year where I felt I could without pressure to be either. i still don’t know how someone would label me but I know I’m not straight and I’m comfortable just being out to myself and now to you…anonymously 😂 anyways thank you because it’s the first post I saw that I was like “yes! Me too!” and felt seen/understood. have a great day 💖💜💙

This means so much to me and one reason i decided to share because i hoped it could possibly help someone out.

And i wish it was more of a thing to recognize not everyone feels like they were born a certain thing. (not talking in reference to you because i don't know your situation) What i mean by that is i don't feel like i was born bi or have always been bisexual. It has only been in the past 5 years i've had any thoughts towards women/girls. That's not to say people aren't born gay or whatever they identify as because i truly believe that those who feel that was born how they identify. But for me, if you would have told 10 year old me i'd like girls, i would have laughed in your face. So because of this, i had a hard time accepting my sexuality because i sometimes didn't and still don't feel as authentic as someone who has always felt different then what society deems normal. I question myself thinking if i haven't always felt bisexual then what makes me that way now. But i think when we are born we are automatically on a spectrum of sexuality and no one is originally "straight" like people were taught. Therefore the spectrum i was on shifted later in my adolescence. Hope all this made since.

And i feel you on people putting you in a box. My family does that all the time. If i wear baggy clothes or sweat pants and t-shirts they ask if i'm gay, as if that's how that works.

#anon #bisexual #bisexuality

[freddyfreebat]

Jack Dylan Grazer Discovers Who He Is in Luca Guadagnino's “We Are Who We Are”

After supporting roles in the It and Shazam!, the young actor shifts gears with his turn as a capricious army brat in the Call Me By Your Name director's new HBO series.

by Iana Murray / Photography by Nik Antonio  —  September 14, 2020

A few years ago, Jack Dylan Grazer took a trip to the movie theater. He was in Toronto and it was one of his days off from filming Shazam!, the DC comedy in which he plays the shape-shifting hero’s foster brother. He decided to watch Call Me By Your Name, and he immediately fell for it. Grazer took note of the director’s name that appeared in the credits—Luca Guadagnino—and turned to his mother.

“I want to work with him,” he told her. With eerie prescience, she assured him: “You will.”

Whether Grazer, now 17, has a knack for manifestation, or it was all just happenstance, his wish came true in the form of We Are Who We Are, Guadagnino’s coming of age drama which follows a group of army brats living on an American military base in Italy. Thematically, the show is something of a spiritual successor to Call Me By Your Name: Grazer plays Fraser, a tempestuous 14-year-old with a pair of headphones constantly plugged in his ears. He’s the new arrival at the base with his mothers (Chloë Sevigny and Alice Braga), and quickly forms a deep bond with his neighbour, Caitlin (Jordan Kristine Seamon), as they both wrestle with their sexuality and identity in the midst of domestic troubles and teenage debauchery.

“He’s an enigma to himself,” Grazer says of his character. “He doesn’t really understand a lot of the things he does but he’s so forthright so he convinces himself that he knows everything. He feels like other people don’t deserve his intelligence. But he’s also very volatile and aggressive at times, and not because he’s coming from an angry place but because he’s constantly questioning who he is.”

If Fraser is just beginning his coming of age when we first meet him, Grazer is inching closer to the end. Starring in enormous blockbusters including IT, he became the Loser Club’s resident hypochondriac at age 12 and a superhero’s sidekick by 15. His films have grossed a combined total of over $1.5 billion. Suddenly the stakes are multiplied tenfold during what are ostensibly, and horrifyingly, the most awkward years of your life. Every misstep is now being monitored, examined through a microscope of millions. (See: His 3.8 million fans on Instagram, to say nothing of the countless stan accounts.) Child fame is a disarming transaction like that: a stable career and all the other perks of being a celebrity, but at the cost of normalcy. That unalleviating pressure forces a kid to mature fast.

Grazer is acutely aware of this fact, admitting outright that he’s “not a normal person.” But he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I became 70 when I was 7!” he laughs. “I don’t know if I really had much of a childhood. But I didn’t want to. I wanted to grow up really fast.”

Nevertheless, he’s still 17. When we meet over Zoom, his shoulder length curls are damp and disheveled (he just got out of the shower), his black painted fingernails contrast with his brightly-lit, white bedroom as he rests his face on his hand. It’s a Saturday morning and he looks tired: It’s his first week back at school, which has traded classrooms for hours of video calls reminiscent of the one we’re currently on. “It feels like the days are shorter because the teachers don’t want to torture their students by keeping them on a computer for six hours a day,” he tells me. “You do miss the social aspect of being at school.”

If you were to judge Grazer by what’s out there on the internet, you’d expect an anarchic and relentless bundle of energy. A quick YouTube search brings up results like “jack dylan grazer being a drama queen” and “jack dylan grazer being chaotic in interviews for 4 and a half minutes straight.” He trolled a YouTube gamer on Instagram Live. His TikToks are inscrutable.

But here, he’s incredibly earnest, as he excitedly talks about his skateboarding hobby (a skill he picked up after auditioning for Mid90s) and his attempts to learn the flute (“I need to learn how to read sheet music, but it’s like reading Hebrew!”). He’s calm and thoughtful, as if this project we’re discussing requires a shift in sensibility.

For Grazer, acting had always simply been fun. While other kids might take up a sport or get hooked on video games, he performed in musical theater with the Adderley School because he “just wanted to play.” His roles so far have been reflective of his carefree approach to the job: Up until now, he’s portrayed best friends with biting one-liners, or the younger version of the protagonist in a flashback. IT is a prime example of both. In the horror franchise, Grazer plays a neurotic germaphobe running from a fear-eating clown, but in reality, the film felt like “summer camp.” Both films never felt like work; he just learned his lines and got to hang out on extravagant sets with his best friends. Likewise, school amounted to being pulled off set by a teacher in between takes to cram in the mandatory hours.

But with We Are Who We Are, he steps into his first leading role, one that required him to convey longing and confusion through Elio-like physicality and subtext. It’s abnormal to talk about the show as a turning point for an actor who isn’t even a legal adult yet, but Grazer explains that the show required him to radically change his approach to acting. He spent six months in Italy (“It felt like I was in Call Me By Your Name.”) and built up the character beyond what was on the page in collaboration with Guadagnino. “His philosophy is that we know our characters better than anyone else—even the writers—because we are the characters essentially,” he explains.

In many ways, Grazer absorbed that philosophy entirely. He describes the experience less as a performance and more like a “rebirth”—perhaps even an attempt at method acting. Over those months in Italy, the distinctions between actor and character gradually became indistinguishable. “I had no other choice but to act and surrender to Fraser entirely and throw Jack Dylan Grazer out the window,” he says. “I would go out and get a coffee as Fraser and walk like Fraser. That was just me trying to get into [character], but then I slipped at some point and just became Fraser.”

One day on set, he looked at himself in the mirror, and the hardened kid standing there with a bleach-blond dye job and oversized shorts was unrecognizable to him. He could only see Fraser. While talking about his character, he seems to unintentionally switch pronouns, from “he” to “I”, as if the two still remain one and the same.

The process was so transformative that it forced him to re-evaluate himself entirely. “I never really struggled with identity before,” Grazer tells me. “But I think the show opened up my eyes to question myself. Being Fraser forced me to question what I wanted and what I stood for and what I believed in. At some points, the show bled into reality.”

When asked how he has changed, he takes a pause and a pensive swivel in his armchair, unsure of how to answer. “I think I was more ignorant before I did the show,” he says, and he leaves it at that.

Coming of agers are a particularly well-trodden genre, but there’s a naturalistic, raw energy to We Are Who We Are that is distinctive from what we’ve seen before. Each character quietly struggles with their own problems and growing pains—for Fraser, it’s his sexuality. Caught in a fraught relationship with his lesbian mother and an infatuation with another man, his story doesn’t tick off the familiar beats. His personal discovery is instead internal and intimate. "I think every single person born as a boy has this guard. It’s this guard that they don’t even realize they have, where they’re initially like, ‘Being gay? I could never.’ But we’re all born as humans who are attracted to whatever we’re attracted to," he says. "I think that’s how Fraser interprets it as well. Yes, he’s reserved and nervous about it in the beginning because he’s unlocking this new idea for himself. He’s figuring it out, and that’s what you see in the show: him coming to terms with this idea."

As our conversation winds to a close, I ask him if Martin Scorsese ever visited the set—his daughter, Francesca, plays the confident cool girl of the show’s teen cohort—and his eyes widen. “That was actually a really stressful day,” he divulges. Still, he revels in the memory, speaking so fast it’s like someone has put him on 2.5x speed as he shows off his impersonation of Guadagnino. The director was so nervous about Scorsese’s presence that production halted that day.

“Luca was like, ‘I cannot do this today because Martin Scorsese is on my set. I don’t know what to do, this is not good for me. I will have a panic attack before the day ends,’” Grazer says in his best Italian accent. “It’s like if you’re a painter and Van Gogh shows up.” 

Admittedly, Grazer is also a self-proclaimed superfan of the Wolf of Wall Street director, and afterwards, he got to spend several days with his idol, as they went on lavish restaurant outings in Italy and talked about anything and everything.

He takes a second to compose himself. A giddy, Cheshire cat smile spreads across his face. The kid in him comes flooding back.

“...Oh my god!” he yells. “I met Martin Scorsese!”

#jack dylan grazer #fraser wilson #we are who we are #eddie kaspbrak #it chapter two #freddy freeman #shazam! #wawwa #luca guadagnino #hbo #hbo max #sky atlantic #interview #gq #wawwa press

[boyfriem-moved]

unpopular opinion but the gay culture on this website is so strong and suffocating that it’s making bi and pan kids feel like it’s bad or wrong for them to like people of the opposite gender and it’s kinda toxic and y’all need to calm down

#ive had this thought for awhile but i felt like i shouldnt say it because people would get mad #but uh fuck it #yall need to hear this #because you think with your violently gay culture you're helping young queer kids but you're really not #i struggled with my sexuality for years because I felt so pressured to Be Gay when the message should have just been to be myself #and a lot of that i can blame on my friends at the time but plenty of the blame goes to this website as well #i was very young (still am really) when i was first figuring out my sexuality and when i first got a tumblr #and i was young enough that i didnt understand that concept of sexuality being fluid or using gay as an umbrella term or anything like that #i dont want to say this because it's what all the old christian women say and i know that but honestly on tumblr being gay is cool #and thats what i saw and thats what my friends were like #and i mean all of my middle school friends and i are legitimately queer kids #we were when we were thirteen and we are now #but with the exception of maybe one or two people i don't think any of us has stuck with the labels we were using back in middle school #but anyways that alls a rant post for after i post this one #my point is that the way yall act on here ingrained biphobic and panphobic behaviors in me #and even though im older now and i know better #i still have to remind myself not to judge the bi girl in my history class for talking about boys #and i still have to remind myself that there's nothing wrong with enjoying a heterosexual romance in a book #and i still have to remind myself that it's not bad for me to like girls because theres nothing wrong with that it's just who i am #which is literally what gay kids who have grown up in heteronormative families have to teach themselves by the way so #yall think you're being progressive and you're having the opposite effect #calm yourselves #aight im gonna stop typing because this is getting ridiculous #goodnight

[writterings]

Hi I appreciate this is a personal question so if you’re not comfortable answering there is absolutely no pressure to, but how did you know you were a trans guy and not a butch lesbian? Because I’m having a bit of an identity crisis atm and I’m finding it hard to find resources etc to help me. I hope you’re having a pleasant day/evening/night

well first i figured out that i wasn't a lesbian to begin with. i genuinely was attracted to men, but i didn't really acknowledge that aspect of myself because loving women felt more radical to me and, tbh, i was also afraid of men at that point in my life for trauma reasons. also i had been raised catholic and so loving girls when i was a girl was just so liberating to me and felt so good. but i was still attracted to men and getting a crush on a dude helped me first realize i wasn't a lesbian. this is obviously just my experience, of course, and isn't universal.

and of course, there can be GNC/butch bi women - but this next part is what really cinched it to me.

when i had a crush on that guy i mentioned, he actually had assumed i was a trans guy/non-binary but trans masc leaning. and he was gay, so he was only attracted to me if i was a man/man-aligned. we didn't know each other that well so there was so there was a lot of miscommunication on each of our parts about my gender and his sexuality. but him seeing me as a guy and me liking that he was attracted to me as a guy -- well, just opened up a whole new world of gender euphoria. i had never conceptualized myself as a guy before and having someone else view me as such without me telling them explicitly how i wanted to be viewed?? that was gender euphoria to the max. again, not everyone's experience, but that was mine.

after that, i started experimenting more. changed my identity to "nb trans masc bisexual" or smth along those lines. it probably switched per week and i probably even went back to butch lesbian at times just because it felt right. (this guy and i never dated, and i wasn't dating anyone else at the time so i had a bit more freedom in switch my labels without people being like "if you're a lesbian why are you dating a guy??") eventually my mom "accused" me of being a trans guy (she wasn't accepting at first but now is very supportive) and pointed out all the obvious "facts" towards it and i was like "oh fuck i guess i'm a trans guy, huh"

("facts" here being stereotypes and the assumption that just because an AFAB person dresses masculine that they're trans, but that's besides the point)

but even after that, i still struggled with whether i was actually a butch lesbian/bi woman or a trans man. this is mainly because in my relative case, being a butch lesbian would have been easier as my parents at the time would have preferred me being GNC & gay but cis (or nb but not open about it), instead of outright trans. (again this is in my relative case, and is not a statement that reflects everyone's reality nor how systemic oppression works)

right now i'm happy as a trans man and i think this is the label that describes my experiences the best and it's the label i prefer. i'll probably die with this label, though the one for my sexuality often changes.

SO basically i just said all this to kinda give you an idea of how fucky gender can be, especially with the added equation of figuring out your sexuality. as a society, we often associate loving women with being a man, and loving men with being a woman, so we always have to deconstruct these internalized aspects of ourselves whenever figuring something out like this. or, at least, that's how i feel about it as i only realized i was a man when another man i wanted to love recognized me as one, shattering the internalized idea (that i wasn't even aware of) i had that if i loved a man, that it made me a woman. so, basically, if you're struggling then i recommend analyzing your sexuality a bit too and your concepts of how love/sex relates to gender for you.

also, if i'm honest, a good way start to determining your gender is just finding out what label is the easiest for you to exist in. i identified as a butch lesbian for a long time because it was the easiest for me to identify as, and because it felt better than anything i knew before. when i realized i wasn't a butch lesbian, and even after i realized i was a trans guy, i still didn't give people a label if they asked me. it wasn't their business and i was ultimately unsure. it was easier that way to identify unaligned or as another gender, despite how it wasn't reflective of how i actually felt. and that's a valid experience in itself!

but after you are finally to a point in which you don't have to care about "easy" over "happiness" then i recommend trying to discover what gender/label makes you the happiest. being a trans man has been hard and the opposite of easy, especially in the early years when it came to my parents and me acknowledging my gender dysphoria, but it is what makes me the happiest. being a butch lesbian was a great experience for me, and i have a lot of love for that version of myself. however, being a man is a whole other level for me - to the point where every moment ISN'T euphoric. it's just normal, it's just right, it's just who i am. i no longer get excited when being gendered or seen as a man - just because it's normal. the happiness of it is just now a regular part of my life. whereas when i was a a butch lesbian, i was constantly aware of how happy my presentation made me feel - or how unhappy i was still being seen as a woman.

at the end of the day, you don't need a label unless you want one. you're allowed to just exist however you are. you can even use multiple labels, mess with typical ones, or even make stuff up. there's no rules to this shit.

anyways, again, these are all just my experiences and my life. my advice may not be applicable towards you, but i still hope there was something you could glean out of it. good luck on everything!

[clearlynotjanus]

Whumptober: Day Two, Talking is Overrated

READ ON AO3

Chapter Summary: Ever since Remus returned from his isolation in the Imagination, things between Janus & Virgil have been strained. Virgil can’t deny that he finds Remus attractive, & Janus doesn’t seem to have a problem with this, but there’s a lot lurking just under the surface of his feelings that makes being with either of them far more difficult than it should be. CW: Dubious consent, panic attacks, anxiety, crying, blowjobs, deepthroating, graphic description of sexual acts Word Count: 5160 Genre: Hurt, Smut, Angst, Whump Rating: Explicit Ships: Dukexiety with a dash of Anxceitmus Author Notes: Soooo you’ll notice that this is very out of the realm of the stuff I usually write. I’m giving everyone a warning right now, this is dubcon & it’s all hurt, no comfort. If you’re familiar with my writing, right about now you’re asking who the fuck is this because this sure isn’t Andrew-Moceit-Fluff-Anderson, & you’re right! This is extremely out of character for me! But sometimes you just gotta hurt the anthropomorphized version of your panic disorder to get through some shit, you know? lmao. Maybe that’s relatable, maybe you’re wondering if my hitaus has turned me into a psycho; who knows! But anyway! I’m using Whumptober to explore some...less than savory topics. So honestly, a big fat “Don’t like, don’t read” / “Dead Dove Don’t Eat” on everything I post this month. But if you’re into it! Hell yeah! I hope you enjoy! :D

Taglist: @sanderssidesangsttrash​​ @catalinaacosta​ @whatishappeningrightnow​ @anxiousbean4404​ @vexelore​ @ranboo-but-booran​ @serpentinesomebody​ @poptartsaysurloved​ @robertdownerjr​ @dangitsbrightinhere​ @iamuncomffy​ @sanderdarksides​ @dragonfander @virgilstarantula​ @a-rudethude @indubitably-emo @gay-artist-626​ @edupunkn00b​ @wouldntyou-liketoknow​ @awesomerandomgirl1​ @cosplayhanna​ @rizzyluke​​ @all-panic-nodisco​ @remy-the-lemon-berry​ @their-royal-fiensishness​ @xravynsflamex​ @imma-potatoo​ @obsxdiannn​

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Hearing the television downstairs, Virgil decided that four in the afternoon was as good a time as any to leave his room for the day. With ghostly silent steps, he descended the stairs - only to stand awkwardly at the foot. His eyes settled on Janus who was staring at the flickering screen, a gloved hand bore the weight of his head with a cupped cheek. Virgil’s heart rate thrummed in his ears like an approaching war drum, nearly drowning out the indecisive show clips. The irregular pattern of noise began a pressure between his eyes as he strained to keep up with alternating sounds of unfamiliar shows.

“Oh is that o--” Virgil started, recognizing a voice finally with several ounces of relief. His head turned as Janus clicked past a rerun of The Twilight Zone.

He blinked, pausing on the following station as he looked up at Virgil with furrowed brows.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” Virgil said, shaking his head. With long steps he quickly retreated to the kitchen as Janus shrugged and resumed his mindless clicking.

Virgil collapsed against the kitchen counter, a palm splayed heavily behind him as though his life depended on it, the other gripping his stomach. Breathe, he ordered himself sternly, tightly closing his eyes and drawing in a breath he struggled to keep quiet. In, 1, 2, 3, 4. Hold, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7. Out, 1, 2, 3, 4 -- 

“Virgil, since you’re in the kitchen,” Janus called, hardly louder than his speaking voice, but the sound made Virgil jump regardless. Instinctually a hand slammed over his mouth to keep the inevitable squeak on his tongue. “Would you be a darling and make us some tea?”

“Y-yeah! Sure!” He said, peeling his palm off his lips. As Janus remained silent, Virgil sighed heavily. 

He repeated his breathing exercise as the water boiled, again as he dumped a ridiculous amount of sugar in one mug and a single teaspoon in another, once more as he placed a bag of Red Rose strawberry cheesecake flavored herbal tea in one mug and a bag of standard Lipton black in the other. His hands had stopped shaking by the time he carried both steaming cups out and placed them on the coffee table. 

Typically he wasn’t one for hot drinks outside of the occasional hot chocolate in fall, but the idea of bringing Janus something without one of whatever it was for himself had always felt...off. Awkward maybe, or just weird; Virgil couldn’t say, but it always compelled him to inevitably join Janus, even if that was the last thing he wanted.

“Oh delightful,” Janus said, immediately wrapping his hands around the molten mug. Virgil flinched just thinking about touching something that hot, but Janus simply leaned back against the couch with a look Virgil could only describe as stupidly content. 

“Yeah,” He mumbled and again found himself standing there. 

Why was he always so awkward? Virgil internally lamented, wondering what normal people did with their hands. He’d been with Janus on this side of the Mindscape for four years now; had watched television and drank tea with him plenty of times. But it never felt easier. Janus put him on edge, for more than a handful of reasons; some harmful and some not. 

Fight or Flight - more aptly upgraded to Paranoia these days - in theory was necessary for something like Self Preservation. A healthy dose of Anxiety kept one vigilant about their health and surroundings; it provided information for Self Preservation to react to and plan for. On paper, they should be a smooth running machine; Virgil would alert Janus to dangers and Janus would provide the escape route. The wrench was that communication was neither of their strong suits; but after four years, Janus didn’t really need Virgil to speak. He knew his problematic little spider well enough by now.

“Sit down already,” Janus waved a hand to the open end of the couch. “Your angst is suffocating.” 

“S-sorry,” Virgil mumbled and sat on the opposite side of the L shaped couch.

“Tsk.”

The two sipped their respective cups in a smothering silence. Virgil’s shoulders ached under the weight. Should he talk? Was Janus going to say something? He stole a glance at his partner, and a sigh caught at the back of his throat at the sight. Janus sat upright, drinking his tea and staring at the television without even a furrow between his brow. Why was he always so goddamn content?

“You’re still upset.”

“No,” Virgil rushed, the sudden observation pumping adrenaline through his blood. Janus hadn’t even looked at him - how the hell had he made any sort of observation, true or not? The air around them sweetened. Janus narrowed his eyes condescendingly, finally sparing a glance at him to offer the expression. They both knew that was a lie. Virgil bowed his head, needing to look away.

“You should really know better by now.” Janus complained into this teacup, but to Virgil’s ears, it just sounded like an insult. 

He should know better by now than to lie to Janus’ face. Or maybe he should know better by now than to get upset at Thomas’ lies. But Virgil struggled to say it wasn’t the thought of Thomas lying that lurched his stomach. The words knotted his tongue and tightened his throat until even the tea wouldn’t go down.

Of course Janus knew this; knew every bit of Virgil’s simple psychology. His words were being misconstrued in that buzzing mind of his at this very moment. Even his intent from yesterday; misunderstood, which is what got them here of course. What was bothering Virgil was very easy to understand; when continuously faced with the fact that Janus unflinchingly told Thomas to lie, manipulate, and do whatever he must to get what he wants, it was only a matter of time before Virgil began to wonder if those very same morals were at play in their relationship. 

The answer was equally obvious, Janus thought, and therefore Virgil should know better by now.

“Yeah,” Virgil agreed with a sigh, but the bitterness continued to strangle him, and Janus felt no need to get into the topic. If they continued pretending as though things were fine, eventually they would be, which was usually his philosophy in dealing with Virgil’s anxiety.

The crushing silence rang in Virgil’s ears despite the ease it came to Janus with. Paranoia - it was a very difficult experience and talking himself off the ledge was getting harder every day. The thought of Janus hurting him was haunting. How far would he go to get his way? The things he implied Thomas should be willing to do...were they things Janus was willing to do to him? Virgil gulped, and then jumped five inches off the couch.

“Sup, emo,” Remus greeted nasally, having barrelled down the stairs in microseconds. Virgil’s heart all but stopped as he cursed at the warm tea that had splashed on his hand with the shock. 

With no amount of hesitance, Remus flopped on the couch and forced his head into Janus’ lap. Though Janus looked generally disgruntled about the loud interruption, he still lifted his arms and adjusted to make himself available. 

“Aw damn,” Remus continued gruffly, ignoring Virgil’s flinch and discomfort as he gave a grotesque sniff to the air. “You made tea and didn’t even heat me up any bleach? Booooooooo.”

“Sorry,” Virgil spat sarcastically, scrunching his nose, “I try not to think about you.” 

“That’s not what you said last night.” Remus mocked and Virgil choked on his inhale, going red.

“Be nice, Remus.” Janus bounced his leg gently, jostling him. “You know he’s much too frigid for that in this clearly public space. I mean, anyone could walk in at any moment.”

Remus snickered, folding his arms behind his head as Janus spoke with mocking alarm. He looked at Virgil expectantly and only had to wait a second before the bickering began.

“I am not frigid,” Virgil said, blushing still.

“Prove it, Daddy Long Legs,” Remus wiggled his brows suggestively. Virgil glared, but couldn’t keep the paranoia from creeping up on him; anxiously, he glanced at Janus, struggling to keep his attention on Remus. Janus, as though entirely separate from this conversation, seemed to be minding his own business now; he took a loud sip of his tea and kept his vision trained on the television that was quickly being drowned out by their arguing.

“H-how?” Virgil asked when he realized Janus wasn’t going to butt in, immediately regretting his decision to indulge Remus.

“Suck my dick,” he said quickly like he had just been waiting for Virgil to ask. “Right here in the living room!” His hands reached for his waistband. Covertly Janus reacted; as though he had inhaled at the wrong time, he quietly cleared his throat into a cupped hand.

“No!” Virgil protested immediately, recoiling as he nervously looked towards the staircase. 

“Prude.”

“Am not!”

“Virgin.”

“That’s just plain wrong!”

Virgil’s face had gone a deep scarlet and again he regretted his words. Anger seized his throat; though he hadn’t raised his volume, his words were heated and bitter. Remus, for all his apparent disinterest as the insults were slung, just couldn’t do away with the pleased sparkle in his eyes that always came with riling Virgil up.

“Is it really now, Screamo?” Remus taunted and Virgil pushed his tempered tongue against the side of his cheek. 

“You know it is,” His words came out slow and ground between his teeth. He hated Remus for making him say these things out loud, for making him acknowledge the truths he purposefully left hidden under his bedsheets. 

“Do I?” Remus dug a finger into his ear, giving Virgil a stupid and ignorant expression. “Sorry, Cindy Lou Boo, must’ve just…slipped my mind.” He finished with a shrug that held both his hands open.

Virgil groaned and pulled his knees to his chest, slamming back against the couch in a show of edgy annoyance. He glowered straight ahead, unseeing at the window as his rage-filled heart hammered against his ears.

“See what I mean?” Janus mumbled, a smirk just barely hidden behind his teacup. “Frigid.” He raised a shoulder in a half effort shrug. 

The words cut Virgil deep, deeper than Remus’ digs had. Janus was always cold and pointed with his insults. They hit hard and lingered with murderous precision. Remus’ were fast and easy to ignore in the long run. Virgil forced himself to take a breath; his lungs expanded against his legs. This was a stupid arguement to be having. They both knew what Virgil was like in bed, which he guessed was why they liked teasing him, but it wasn’t fun. Not for him anyway. Even so, it made Virgil feel like he had something to prove. 

Maybe it was some sort of twisted aspect of toxic masculinity or something, but he couldn’t just let their jeering go. It festered in him, the need to be recognized as one of them, because these days it really was feeling like Janus and Remus were against him, which was fucked up if you asked Virgil. He’d been with Janus the longest, so why was Remus able to just swoop in and act like this? Virgil steeled himself with more deep breaths before opening his mouth.

“Talking is overrated,” Virgil started and Janus peered through the corner of his eyes, recognizing how uncharacteristic of him those words were. “If you can’t remember, I’ll just have to remind you.”

“Hell yeah,” Remus immediately enthused, a wide grin cracking his face as he reached for his waistband.

“N-not here,” Virgil rushed, desperately clinging to the cool tone he had used just a moment ago. Remus pouted and Virgil raised his eyes to insinuate one of their bedrooms above them. “Later.”

“Fiiiiiiiiine,” He bemoaned, crossing his arms and sinking back into the couch, his head colliding Janus’ lap again.

“Well then,” Janus mumbled and reached for the remote.

-----

Remus maintained a rough grip in Virgil’s hair. When his fingers had first tightly laced at the roots, Virgil had yelped and felt the familiar tingle of adrenaline prick down his spine. Now, even though Remus hadn’t let up at all, it felt mostly numb - at least in comparison to everything else. His boney knees had begun going red against the carpet, even behind the fabric of his jeans. The color was both from how harsh Remus had pushed him down onto them and for how long he’d been kneeling. His throat ached something raw. His lungs strained against his ribs. His cock struggled for friction against the boot between his thighs. 

Virgil’s subdued cries fell on sadistic ears; not apathetic or deaf ones. Remus was spurred on by how Virgil’s protests interrupted the wet sound of his cock colliding against the back of his throat. Virgil knew that of course, and it was a thin line to be riding. Tonight, the margin for error felt smaller than usual. 

Perhaps it was his interaction with Janus earlier or maybe it was the instigation this was founded on, but Remus’ grin seemed to glow maliciously down at him. The walls of his throat squeezed unusually tight, reluctant to relax no matter how many deep and even breaths Virgil forced through his nose. His hands shook against his thighs with the restraint of keeping his fight or flight at bay. It wasn’t typically this difficult, taking Remus’ cock and swallowing his violence. For all his objection in the living room earlier, the crude mockery of love that was his lewd time spent with Remus was enjoyable for him. Usually.

Tonight his body reacted like a great duality sliced a canyon in his mind; though he could feel his cock throbbing against his pants and his hips aching to press down against the rigid surface of Remus’ shoe, the familiar animal of panic surged through him, screaming danger like a mating Bellbird. Remus’ hand pressed Virgil’s head down further, his cock searching for the give that’d have him sliding down with ease. Virgil’s eyes watered; even in pain he struggled to maintain eye contact. His vision swam as he glanced between Remus’ unwavering, heated stare and the ceiling just behind his head. 

“Relax already, Virge,” Remus complained, reaching with his other hand to tip Virgil’s head back by his chin.

He whined, though the sound quickly became strangled against the obstruction. He was trying, he was trying so hard to let Remus cram himself down, but the more Remus pressed, the more obvious it became that Virgil’s throat wasn’t letting up; and the more obvious that became, the more distressed Virgil got. He was trying, why wasn’t it working? It always did, he was always able to do at least this much. If he couldn’t even deepthroat Remus…maybe they were right. Shame tightened his chest as Janus’ voice rang through his mind. You know he’s much too frigid for that…

Janus couldn’t be right about that. Virgil wouldn’t let Janus be right about that. Rallying, Virgil shifted forward on his knees, straightening his back. His crotch slid further up Remus’ boot, and despite the tears in his eyes, Virgil looked desperately stubborn. 

“Ooooh,” Remus almost sang, his voice entertained as he tugged the tuft of Virgil’s hair in his grip and earned a gargled cry. “You’re finally ready to try, Scare Bear?”

He winced; he was already trying, but it was probably a good thing, Virgil thought, that Remus didn’t realize that. It’d just make him look that much more pathetic.

With a deep breath, Virgil squeezed his eyes shut. His knuckles went white as they gripped the hem of his shirt. He forced his jaw to relax, his tongue to press flat against the bottom of his mouth. This would hurt. He steeled himself for pain. The Bellbird rioted in his ears and every other thought hazed as he pressed forward of his own volition. Remus’ hands guided him forward as his cock split through the anxious knot in his throat. The courage of determination and humiliation wasn’t enough to numb the agony. His eyes shot open and the muscles in his neck tensed to pull back as Remus’ cock penetrated beyond his soft palate and teased at the entrance of his esophagus. 

Remus’ eyes fluttered shut as he moaned, his head falling back as though it was a great effort to stay standing as pleasure coursed through him. Virgil’s panic rose and no amount of nonverbal approval could prevent him from jerking away - or at least trying to. As he pulled back, feeling his lungs burn for air, he realized the real reason Remus’ hands had stayed lodged in his hair and gripped on his jaw; to hold him in place when he inevitably changed his mind. At the revelation, Virgil squirmed, his hands unconsciously reaching for Remus’ pant leg as muffled pleas wedged between the walls of his throat and Remus’ cock. Virgil struggled, his movements frenzying the longer Remus went without a reaction. He clawed at Remus’ leg as his jaw reflexively tightened. His front teeth grazed the intrusive member between his lips and despite Virgil’s misery, he attempted to keep his mouth open. Tears streaked down his cheeks and his thoughts crescendo to their steepest point of doom; he would die here.

Remus sighed and loosened his hold on the back of Virgil’s head, enough for him to slide backwards several inches until his cock rested at the back of his throat, no longer obstructing Virgil’s breath. But Virgil continued to push back, wanting to eject the horror completely. He shook his head and stared up at Remus with pleading, terror-filled eyes.

“God, Dee’s right, you’re such a Drama King. Breathe already,” Remus said with an exasperated eye roll.

The mention of Janus felt like a slap across the face. How often did they talk about him? Did they only have bad things to say? His stomach flipped and he forced his eyes closed. He already suspected it was like that; he shouldn’t act so shocked. Ever since Remus has come back from the Imagination, he was closer to Janus than Virgil had ever been. It made him beyond jealous, beyond paranoid - but could it really be called paranoia if he was proven right? 

Though Remus’ words were harsh, Virgil eventually obeyed, realizing he was right as a slow and even breath went through his nose and down to his lungs easily. It didn’t matter what Janus said about him, Virgil lied to himself. It didn’t matter if they talked behind his back. He’d prove them wrong.

“Good, now stop being such a wuss already,” Remus continued as Virgil’s panic began to subside. Little by little his deep breaths chipped away at the looming wall of his anxiety until eventually, only a line of bricks remained. 

He was fine. He did this all the time - well not all the time but frequently enough that it was pretty ridiculous of him to make such a big deal out of it. He blushed, thinking about how pitiful he must’ve looked, struggling to get half of Remus’ cock down. Embarrassment swelled and he swallowed against the feeling, closing his lips around Remus in the process. He gave a small nod and readied himself. This time, he wouldn’t be such a coward.

Remus’ hand tensed in Virgil’s hair and a flinch coiled in his muscles; but the moment remained paused as Remus hesitated.

“Pull your pants down.”

Virgil blinked up at him, a dumb look on his face as his fearful mind struggled to keep up. 

“Pants. Down.” Remus repeated like it was the most obvious thing in the world, his tone bewildered. He lifted his foot which remained pressed against Virgil’s cock; the jolt of sudden pressure seemed to get the point across finally.

Virgil unfurled his hands from Remus’ pant leg. His knuckles cracked from being released for the first time in several long minutes. The blood rushed back to them as he fumbled with his zipper and button. Clumsily he maneuvered them down his thighs and below his knees enough. With that done, he looked back at Remus, wanting to just get on with this already. His hardon had shrunk significantly with his earlier pain and even thinking about getting off now made his skin crawl. He wanted to get this over with. His throat ached, his head was pounding, and his knees were raw.

“Boxers too, Spidey,” Remus said impatiently.

Virgil sighed through his nose. He should’ve seen that coming. He looked down, though from his angle he couldn’t see very far without taking Remus’ cock out of his mouth, which was very clearly unallowed by the hands holding his head still. The color on his cheeks darkened at the realization; if he took his boxers off, there’d be nothing between him and Remus’ boot. Disgust overtook him. He didn’t want to touch those things with his hands, let alone his cock.

“My shoes are clean, Sir Bite.” Remus said, tone full of disdain as though it was completely out of the realm of possibilities that his shoes were dirty. “I’m going soft,” He lamented, pushing Virgil’s head forward an inch to feel some friction, making him squeak in surprise. “Hurry up.” 

 Dejected, he repeated the process, albeit a bit quicker this time, and exposed his half-hard cock. He held it in his hand as he shifted himself back into position; spine straight, thighs separated, head tilted back with his jaw slack and lips tight - though he hadn’t had much of a choice with the latter part. Remus bent his head to the side and peered with dissatisfaction at the way Virgil refused to let his cock touch his shoe. Again he lifted his foot, pointedly pressing against Virgil’s hand as his eyes rolled to lock their gaze. Virgil’s cock twitched in his grip as Remus nearly glared at him with expectation; he resented the thing for it. There was no way such a revolting insinuation should get that sort of rise out of him…and yet, it had. His stomach churned and his nerves frayed as Remus refused to move. It was clear nothing would start or end until Virgil released his cock.

Slowly Virgil closed his eyes again, resigning himself to a very hot, very soapy shower later. He released his hand and rested both, once more, on his thighs. His cock pressed against the leather of Remus’ shoe. It felt…demeaning, Virgil thought. He especially hated how it curled his muscles with anticipation. He cursed internally and refused to meet Remus’ knowing stare. Bastard.

“Good. Now deep breath, emo.” He warned a second before he began to press forward again.

Panic exploded through him like a bullet with the words as his eyes shot open. He rushed to inhale as told in the moment that Remus’ cock inched beyond the back of his throat again. The adrenaline of fight or flight flooded his blood, electrifying his brain with the lone command to flee. But Remus’ hands and eyes paralyzed him; even if Virgil could find it in himself to move as irrational fear crippled him, he’d be prevented. He hadn’t noticed at what point he had stopped crying, but a renewed wetness began trickling down his cheeks, dripping onto his shaking hands. 

His cock hardened against Remus’ boot despite himself, the feeling of being trapped somehow translating to arousal as Remus began violating his esophagus with paced thrusts and deep groans. Virgil knew that was exactly what Remus wanted; for all his pain and dread to transform into surrender and lust. That’s how it usually went so it was no wonder his cock dripped against the leather, preparing for the moment Virgil’s desire to run flipped on its head and he embraced his instinct to fight instead. But it was so much more difficult tonight to simply let that happen. 

Virgil choked out a defeated whine, blinking rapidly as tears blurred his vision. The sound made Remus’ cock twitch aggressively; his movements hastened and Virgil gargled on his welling spit as his lungs began burning again. 

“You know what to do,” Remus grunted, gripping his jaw tighter as he plunged deep enough to press Virgil’s lips against his crotch. He could feel his Adam’s apple taut against his skin. “To make it stop hurting so much.” Virgil thought if he wasn’t preoccupied, the words would’ve sounded like a laugh. Instead they were rushed, like Virgil’s pain was an annoyance rather than a concern.

Twenty seconds had passed and Virgil started to think he was going to die again. It hurt so much, all of it, and Remus was right; there was one way to make it stop, or at least dull it a bit, but Virgil didn’t want to think about that. The idea of moving his hips to gain friction against Remus’ shoe was…outrageous, ludicrous, crazy. But His cock ached for it, dripped precum against the cloth laces for it. Disgusting, disgusting, disgusting. He shook his head as much as he could and choked out a wet wail. Remus clicked his tongue and seemed to shrug about it; it wasn’t his problem if Virgil didn’t take him up on the relief he was offering. 

The obscene sound of Remus’ cock pushing all the way down Virgil’s throat filled the room. It invaded his mind and seemed to be in rhythm with his heart, drowning the sound out. Ten more seconds and he struggled to keep his eyes open. Five more and his heart desynced from the even tempo of Remus’ thrusts. His pulse slowed and it was like he was standing in the living room, listening to Janus rapidly flick through the television channels again; a pressure formed between his eyes as he strained to keep up with what was happening. A dull panic nauseated his stomach. A sudden flash of heat like a desert wind beaded sweat at the back of his neck. 

Was this enough? Did he live up to the expectation now? They couldn’t still call him frigid or a prude or accuse him of being a virgin after this, right? If he held on long enough and let Remus cum like this, maybe they’d even stop teasing him so much. Virgil hoped that was true, oh, he hoped so much. This could be just like a hazing ritual; he’d pass with flying colors if he could just sit still and take Remus’ brutality without flinching. 

His thoughts became nonsensical as his body ran out of oxygen. This wasn’t a hazing ritual. This was just how Remus was. He’d never be comfortable around Janus again. He’d never have Janus to himself anymore; Remus would always be standing in the way like some twisted guard. Even in moments of peace, the inevitability of his unsettling nature put Virgil on edge. No amount of Deceit could cover the truth anymore. Thomas was sick and Remus was the proof.

As his vision went dark, Remus released his grip on Virgil’s hair. His fight or flight returned all at once as he was finally able to pull away. Falling backwards, a hand clawed at his throat, the other bracing himself up in a shaky way as he gasped and choked for air. Everything he knew about steadying his breathing had exited his mind somehow. He scrambled for ways to calm his now pounding heart; his wide eyes snapped across the room, up at Remus, across the room, up at Remus. What was it again? Something about counting, right? Panic climbed higher and higher until Virgil was sure his throat would close or his heart would burst, whichever came first would be the end of him.

Remus watched, a brow raised as he stroked his reddened cock, inches from finishing himself off. He wasn’t stupid, he knew the telltale signs of Virgil’s panic whatevers. He just didn’t understand them; why they happened, why Virgil made such a big deal out of them. If Virgil knew even a fraction of the things that went through his head, then maybe he’d have something to panic about. Virgil had it pretty easy in comparison.

“What’s with the hissy fit, Purple Heart Attack?” Remus said, voice strained with labored breathing as he closed the distance between them. 

Virgil made a high pitched sound and went to crawl backwards. He was only successful for a moment before Remus caught his hand and brought it up to his cock. Reluctantly, Virgil wrapped his fingers around the width as he was physically instructed.

“C’mon, loser, I’m almost there.” Remus grunted as he forced Virgil’s hand to move against him; eventually he began to mechanically move his arm without aid. 

Just a few more minutes, Virgil told himself, but the dizziness grew a heavy fog behind his eyes as his throat continued to clamp down on itself. His rhythm was uneven, his arm grew numb and Remus’ impatience surmounted into an agitated sound. He slapped Virgil’s hand away and took the final steps to tower over him. Grabbing his own length roughly, Remus stroked fast and hard, his sounds cresting to a loud moan of release as his eyes squeezed shut. Virgil froze, unable to look away until Remus came; his semen landed in streaks across Virgil’s face and the floor behind him.

They both panted, hard and heavy with shaking hands. It was over, but as Remus’ high faded in the afterglow, Virgil’s panic only continued to rise. With a quiet and involuntary cry, Virgil’s hands reached out, searching for a comfort his logical mind, if at all present, would have realized didn’t exist in Remus. Predictably, Remus stepped back, adjusting his pants into place as he avoided Virgil’s grip. 

“What?” He said, tone so condescending, Virgil had almost thought Janus was in the room. “It’s like you said; talking is overrated, right?” 

Virgil’s arms fell as tears burned his eyes. When did Remus get that good at cutting deep? Weren’t his insults always easy to avoid, or at least get over? Even though Remus had just spoken those words, Virgil felt them settling deep in his bones. They would haunt him forever, he could already tell.

“Right.” He sniffled as Remus turned away and headed for the door. Virgil wiped his nose wetly on his sleeve. 

Remus left, not caring that he had closed the door so hard, the wall decor had rattled. Virgil flinched at the sound and pulled his knees to his chest, which certainly didn’t help how difficult it was to breathe. He was glad they always did this in his room; he didn’t think he would’ve had it in him to stand, pull his pants up, and sink out before the loud sobs began. Equally, he didn’t know if the sobs were from anger, embarrassment, or loneliness. Maybe it was some unfortunate mix of all three. 

#dukexiety #remus sanders #virgil sanders #tss fanfiction #whumptober2021 #no.2 #talking is overrated #fic #dubcon #smut #nsfwhump