#like this is why i just... don't feel tied to women anymore. i can't even have women friends for long without something shitty happening

[mr-mustache-penis]

found out my two "best friends" went to atlanta for my friend's birthday without me. not only that, but only one of them told me happy birthday and neither of them have acknowledged my post about my good grades in college or liked my birthday pictures :/

#i understand i just came back from school. however. it's been a week since i got back #and my friend didn't seem like she was going to tell me about her plans unless i asked #which i did. because i wanted to celebrate with her like a good friend #idk it just feels shitty. like yes it's HER birthday but she's included me in past parties or celebrations before #maybe she thought i wouldn't have the money? but again she could have asked #the friend who hasn't said anything to me shared my friend's birthday pictures and told people to wish her a happy birthday and :/ #like this is why i just... don't feel tied to women anymore. i can't even have women friends for long without something shitty happening #delete later #it just sucks ig

[shadowystan]

YANDERE! husband x f!reader– marriage can't be that bad, right? (wrong)

YANDERE!husband who's the epitome of wealth and fame. He can give you the world, yes, but why would he?

YANDERE!husband who treats you like the dirt beneath his feet from the very get go. Misogynistic and conservative to a fault, he believes women should really just sit back and let their men do the work.

(While they, of course, rot off in kitchens and behind sewing machines.)

YANDERE!husband who was sure he was going to get a pretty slave of a wife. Now, pray tell, why does his woman refuse to even touch him on the first night of their wedding?

"I won't sleep with you."

Headstrong and stern, you don't seem like a docile little thing. Far from it actually. Your brows are furrowed and there's a certain determination behind your eyes.

It's infuriating. 

YANDERE!husband who may as well be a cliche high school bully with his jabs and manhandling. He isn't abusive. But that's only because you're tied down to him, anyway. Why must he get physical when you don't have anywhere to go or money to call your own?

Or. Well. Do you?

YANDERE!husband who frowns deeply when you tell him you're going for a job interview. Surely, you must be joking?

Ah, that's right.

YANDERE!husband who smiles big and chokes out a hearty laugh. "That's a good one! You're funny, wife."

You were, in fact, not joking.

YANDERE!husband who's appalled, eyes blown wide and lips slightly parted when you wake up at 6 in the morning the next day with a snugly wrapped pant set around your body, looking like the embodiment of a classy business woman.

"I got the job," You dryly inform him.

YANDERE!husband who's a pissbaby. Complaining to his parents how you aren't obedient or submissive. Blaming his old man for not 'giving' him a feminine, exclusively child bearing wife.

YANDERE!husband who tries restricting you. He's richer and more influential than you. Why can't he stop you?

He fails to understand you have legs. And a healthy, working mind.

YANDERE!husband who after putting you on house arrest comes home to you working from home on your laptop. YANDERE!husband who's beaming and shining when he confiscates your electronics the next day, thinking you'll stop being so stubborn only to find out you sent the kitchen staff home out of spite.

YANDERE!husband who, after a while, realises that letting you just work is better than coming home to a starving stomach.

YANDERE!husband who's not really, well, a yandere yet. Or.. is he?

YANDERE!husband who just needed one action from you to turn completely obsessed. A curt nod of approval here, an amused eyebrow raise there and he's putty in your hands.

But does that make him kind? God, no.

YANDERE!husband who shows just how terrifying he could be after finally falling for you. The childish, humorously masculine man you knew is gone now.

You're a strong person but YANDERE!husband is scary to say the least.

"Don't wear this."

"Dress modest, wife."

"Behave."

It's not fine anymore. He makes you feel unsafe. He is unsafe.

YANDERE!husband who fires every single one of his maids and servants. 

"You'll be the one cooking now, dear wife."

Has he always been this tall?

YANDERE!husband who flashes you a calm smile, suffocating you in his presence when you refuse to cook or clean.

YANDERE!husband who simply says:

"It's better to learn now, dear," He takes a step forward, figure towering over you. A hand reaches out. You don't flinch.

His smile widens at that, large hand gently patting you on the head, calloused palm smoothing out your hair.

"Really," He continues. "It's every housewife's duty to do so."

Your eyes widened and dread filled your stomach.

"I'm not a-"

"Plus," He cuts you off. Has his smile always looked so vicious? "A mother should be ideal. If we have a girl, – God, I hope not – you'd have to know a few things to pass on to her, yeah?"

A chill runs down your spine. You gulp, lips trembling as you voice out your next word.

"D-daughter?"

He grins, looking awfully boyish for someone who has just indirectly told you that you won't be going to your job anymore.

"Heh, you'd prefer a boy too, right? They're superior."

You let out a shaky breath.

"I.. We won't be having a child."

He paused. Your heart stopped.

"Ah, of course," He threw a soft smile your way, as if understanding your situation. "Of course, of course; we'll have to teach you how to become a perfect wife first, yes?"

Fuck.

#yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere x female reader #yandere!male #yandere!husband #yandere!husband x reader

[spicybylerpolls]

It's a shame how guarded the fandom is regarding sex. First and foremost because sex, and specifically shame around sex, is heavily, heavily tied to Mike and Will's story.

If Lucas can have a 69 sign above his head while he's sleeping, why is it so hard to believe Mike and Will are having sexual dreams about each other? Especially if you ship them and acknowledge the 69 sign was obviously signaling a sexual dream?

If Lucas can have a reference to dirty magazines under his bed, why is it so hard to believe Mike and Will also have dirty magazines hidden around their bedroom?

If Dustin can have a reference to masturbation, why is it so hard to believe Mike and Will are also interested in masturbation as well?

They specifically put these references in the other, ORIGINAL, party members, who are the same age as Mike and Will, while also including references for them too (that people just can't accept), signaling all these boys are starting to think about sex. The difference is, Lucas and Dustin don't have any shame surrounding who they're attracted to.

I don't know about you (however I imagine this is a common experience for many queer people) but before I accepted that I was attracted to the same sex, I'd constantly find myself watching the women in porn and consciously trying to focus on the man. I'd tell myself things like "oh - you're just interested in how your body will look when you're older" or "oh - it's normal when you watch porn" etc - basically anything to reaffirm that I wasn't gay. And this is all between ages 13-16.

This is exactly how I see Mike, specifically. Starting to notice his attraction to men but consciously repressing it, telling himself he's normal and it doesn't mean anything. And I think people forget (or maybe just feel uncomfortable talking about) this part - that the sexual attraction, the shame in the sexual attraction, is a huge, huge part of realizing you're queer and coming-of-age as a queer person.

And that's why Mike doesn't want to hug Will at the airport (or a big part of it). It feels awkward, even if he doesn't know why. It feels awkward because he feels ashamed for liking Will. I mean the first shot we get of Mike setting eyes on Will in Season 4 is of him looking at Will's chest and then quickly averting his eyes. This tells us everything we need to know - Mike is attracted to Will, feels ashamed about it and doesn't want anyone to know (or likely doesn't even fully understand it himself, but at the very least, knows it's not "right").

Point being, his shame surrounding specifically his sexual attraction to men is one of his biggest issues and failing to talk about it is a HUGE DISSERVICE to his character!

It also does a huge disservice to Will's character, too. The repercussions of this shame, a lot of the time, is Will's situation - not having your first kiss, all of your friends growing up before you, hating yourself because you have a crush on your best friend. All because he's romantically AND sexually attracted to men. This is what Will's thinking. If he wasn't such a freak, if he didn't want to kiss boys, if he wasn't starting to feel sexually attracted to men, then everything would be so much easier. He wouldn't feel like such a mistake.

This is why I think they'll absolutely have a sex scene in S5 and also why I think it will be explicit. I previously thought it'd likely be implied and that that'd be enough but I don't see it the same anymore. Now, I don't think this means it has to be racy, obviously, but just that the audience would see some of it. Quite frankly, doing an implied sex scene, while I wouldn't be dissatisfied, is a disservice to the story.

See, with Jancy, the implied sex scene works. The tension between these two characters has been building for a season and a half and we know they want to have sex. We don't have to see it, we just need to know that they do.

But with Mike and Will? That's not the case at all.

First of all, the tension has been building for 5 seasons, which is the entire series. An implied sex scene would ultimately be a tame ending to this storyline.

Second, Mike and Will specifically feel shame about this act, Jonathan and Nancy don't. We don't need to see their reaction but we need to see Mike and Will's reactions because it completes their characters. Because they have felt shame about this specific thing, not showing them feeling comfortable doing this, with each other, would be incomplete.

Third, think about Steve and Nancy's sex scene - we're shown it specifically because Nancy feels uncomfortable.

Ultimately, there's no need to show Jonathan and Nancy having sex because there's nothing left unresolved. That's what the Duffers actually get right - only showing a sex scene when it's important for the narrative and for the characters. Even Hopper and Joyce point to this, despite them being the oldest characters and the most suitable to have an explicit sex scene, opposed to Steve and Nancy. That's because there's nothing else to tell us about Joyce and Hopper through this sex scene - we know they love each other. I don't see why the Duffers would break this pattern now.

And well, even if you don't want the scene, I don't see how you could argue that the moment Mike and Will decide to have sex isn't extremely important for their characters and would tell us A LOT about how they both feel, especially Mike seeing as we don't get his perspective.

You could argue the kiss would suffice but... does it? A kiss isn't really... sexual. And Romantic, sure. But this wouldn't address the shame they specifically feel about sex. Mike starting to cry while having sex with Will tells us so much more about his character than him crying while kissing Will.

Kissing is also a thing children do. Ending a 5 season, 9 year long coming-of-age project, with two characters who have fought inter-dimensional monsters that quite literally represent their shame, simply kissing? Something we've already seen one of these characters do, multiple, multiple times?

Okay, I guess.

Anyway, I know a lot of these points have already been made, and that this was really long, but I just wanted to say them again because it upsets me so much, especially during rewatch when I see all the themes right in front of me. And I know it upsets other people, other young adults, too. Seeing this experience represented so accurately - one that you might even still feel shame about, one that you went through not too long ago - and not even being able to discuss it openly in the fandom, is sad. Being called a freak or a pedophile for simply suggesting that sex is important here and the Duffers are telling us so. Sex... the thing that literally created us all. And that almost everyone starts thinking about between the ages of 13-14.

Sigh. At least we have this blog. Thank you for that. 🫶🏼

#byler #spicy byler #mike wheeler #will byers #no poll

[seventhcallisto]

Prologue.

—His Cologne.

It's said there is nothing truly perfect in this world. Yet the thought of two people coming together and finally tying the bond is considered so. It took you by surprise. Truly, was that really the most perfect thing?

When two (or more) people get together. And their bonds glow. It's perfect, and they live happily ever after. The end. But it is never really the end. You grew up with two of the most proclaimed and promising soulmates. Childhood friends from a run-down neighborhood. Being mischievous and biding time skipping school. Tied by time. Yeah, pretty perfect.

But as they grew, they dabbled in things they still have yet to tell you. (You have a clue) And began getting into terrible relationships. When they finally reconnected, they noticed the marks on their wrists glowed a beautiful violet. For a while they were content, quietly living for months. During that time you were conceived. After a while they met their third and final soulmate. mere months passed, they were worse together than they were apart.

Three young souls were burdened by the world of men and women who tore their innocent hearts and made them ruthless and savage. You'd wake up most days to screaming and yelling. Fighting and crying. Makeup breakfast and all three of them pretending to sweep it under the rug. Like clockwork. You wondered if it was just your soulmate parents. Or maybe it was an occurrence for other people. You didn't know. Sometimes, when they fought, and you'd cover your ears and pretend they didn't. You wished they had never met.

But the thought made you feel terrible. How could you wish something like that? How could you wish to tear people apart from each other; or their destined person? It turned your stomach. You cried yourself to sleep most nights they fought, not because they were fighting. But because you wished they had met different people, had different soulmates, or even.. didn't have a soul bond at all. Even going as far as to curse whoever made the marks. Truly why would God-knows-what put three mentally unstable and unwilling people together when they can't even cope around each other? You didn't get it, you would never get it.

It was a hot June day, you stepped into the house after school. Tired from the walk in the heat. You step into the hallway and then. You think. Yeah. It was then you were determined to never want a soul bond. You overhear your father. He who was the last one to be welcomed in the bond. He's hushed on the phone. His sobs pull your heart apart, he confides in your aunt. He cries through his words. He tells her 'i feels unloved, unwanted' 'i feel like a third wheel' and he doesn't know what to do about it. You hear your aunt on the other line, you can hear her worried voice and tone. He said he tried for years to fit in, but he'll never feel as close as his other partners who grew up with each other.

He doesn't even know if your two biological parents even genuinely love him. He doesn't know if he can find it in himself to even love you. The child he raised alongside his partners. His supposed soulmates. You, the kid of those two people- remind him everyday, that he's an outsider. That you'll never truly be his kid, but the kid of two people he desperately wants to love him back the way he wants. You don't eavesdrop anymore. You don't eat dinner that night. You don't even wail like you should. You're numb. Your head meets your pillow as you drift into thoughtless summer.

You don't believe in soul marks, you don't believe in the fact someone can love someone because a bodily detail told them so. No. You don't. You don't want a soulmate and you don't want a mark.

Your eighteenth birthday rolls around. Still no soulmate marks. 'You're a late bloomer,' everyone tells you. You could care less. You're ecstatic at not having one. Your birthday party ends in your parents fighting. Something you're used to by then. you're moving out sooner than a month later. Biding farewell to your run-down neighborhood and childhood friends, some of whom have their soul partners hanging off their arms. Every glance you make at their soul bonds makes you queasy. Deep down your gut, still twists at the thought of it somehow appearing. A sudden bloom of a mark catching you off guard. You shake those thoughts away.

Your new apartment is centered in the city, even though you aren't a big fan. Anything to get away is fine with you. It's small, homily, with good lighting and a small balcony that you spend most nights reading by. Your bedroom is not even two steps away from the kitchen. You can't complain though. It's mostly modern for the price you're renting it at.

You're more than settled when it's three and a half years later. You've just earned a promotion at your job. Your passion for graphic design really blossomed into what you wish it would. You find yourself becoming satisfied with the way your life is. Maybe a pet would make it better?

You've thought about it most days. You slip into the bathroom, brushing your teeth. You don't mind your reflection. You know what you're gonna see when you look up. It's warm enough to wear spring clothing. A long dreadful winter has passed once again. You spit the remaining toothpaste and wash it down with some mouthwash. You know every nook and cranny of your small apartment. Finding your dresser and pulling clothing out.

Before you shimmy it on. You're looking in your reflection. Your heart drops. A single mark on your left shoulder. A mark in the shape of a rose. You're out of breath as you scrub and scrub. All you leave behind is a red mark. You cry silently to yourself all day. The city lights glimmer and shine upon your tears on the balcony. Your pants ride up your calves. You haven't gotten dressed since earlier that day, a loose hoodie and a plain pair of grey sweats you threw on frantically to cover up. of course, on your day off, you get this terrible news.

It was so rare that someone wouldn't have a soul mark. Deep down, you prayed you would be a part of those rare people. How silly of you to hope you'd be spared from this. You're mindlessly scratching your ankle, tracing a pattern. For some reason, your head drops down to look at what you're doing. A gasp gets caught in your throat.

There on the curve of your left ankle that's propped up on the chair with you: is another mark. The infinity symbol with two dots on each side. You pull away like it burned you, foot slamming onto the concrete beneath you. You're rushing into the apartment like you can run away from it. Slamming your sliding door behind you. You're striping off your clothes frantically, only left in your undergarments. Not soon after you stand bare in front of your mirror. Tears welling up in your eyes.

There are four more symbols you can spot immediately. 3. in the center valley of your breasts, it mimics a tattoo. it's the arrow of a bow. 4. Another on the front of your right hip is a seventeen percent full waxing cresent moon. The rest is filled in with black to simulate the shadow. 5. flushed on the front view of your left hip, four distinct fingerprints, they connect like constellations, short bursts of lines. It's curved to mimic where a hand would press flat.

6. On your stomach, right below your belly button. A tiny figure of a man lays on his palms, he's no bigger than an inch. He's etched out like a sketch. His features are small but extremely detailed. His torso is bare, showing off his lean muscles, his hair fluffy, and it pools around to caress his blurred face. His left leg is tucked under his extended right that drips off like it's plunged into a body of water that creates ripples. Across his lap is a blanket. 7... seven? You take a sharp breath. It's brand new. It wasn't there a second ago. How'd you miss it?

The seventh mark is on your left thigh, it's a twisted branch that flowers hang from, there's no color but if there was; red would be the color of every pedal, it almost covers the whole front of your thigh. You pray that's it. You pray there's no more. You turn around to check the rest of your body, oh no. Just your luck. When you pull your hair over, you catch sight of the 8th soul mark. A dragon, how silly. But it's just a dragon, wings spread wide and it crawls up the length of your neck. Barely out of view, hidden by your hair or clothes when you wear some, an inch and a half at most. Next, 9th. A butterfly thats missing a corner of its wing, Nestled on your left shoulder hanging to a flower. 10th. An outline of a tiger ready to strike right between your shoulder blades.

11th. Your collarbone, new and appearing before your eyes. An acurate black hole swirls right where your collarbone would be/is. 12. A shooting star, its on your right wrist. 13. A goldfish on your left wrist, swimming in a circle. 13...

You're a wreck. You counted 13. Thirteen marks. Soul marks. Soulmates. You have thirteen. What kind of sick joke could this be on you. When you finished counting you threw a fit for the first time in your life. Even when you were a kid, you were never fussy. How the tables turn. Hyperventilating and kicking anything closest to you. You acted out to gain any sense of control. By the time you were done screaming at the world, towards the sky, and whoever above. You fell into a heap on the floor. Tears streamed. And streamed. And streamed.. until you couldn't cry.

You got dressed, made yourself comfortable, all silently. Then went to bed.

Your neighbors weren't very happy. Actually- they're nice people, almost called the cops though at your outburst. 'I'm fine, really. I thought I saw a roach,' you joked. Not a roach, but the feeling of thirteen marks on you made you feel uncomfortable with yourself as if there really was one. The week following was the lowest in your life. You did enough research to kill an interviewer. Soulmates dont really have divorce. But you can remove a soul mark, If you do, it will hurt. Forever, actually. You'll always feel empty. And lonely without your soulmate, under the wiki is a soulmates therapy helpline. Slapped into your face in bold red letters.

God. Your head hurts. Last week made you feel like you were on a roller coaster. You're all out of excuses that allow you not to attend anything. You need time to think about what you're gonna do, how you're gonna avoid this. No way are you gonna bunker down with thirteen people, and somehow find a middle ground and live happily ever after. You don't usually run away from your problems.. but maybe this time, you can get away with it.

Your name is called, and you blink back into reality. "Yes?" You respond, glancing up at your boss. "We're gonna go grab some dinner. Do you wanna come?" She smiles, Eunha is on the older side. Her smile lines are beautiful, and her clothing always fits perfectly. "Sure, let me grab my bag." You smile politely. Food has surely gotta get your mind off this. Even for a moment.

The restaurant is bustling with life. Everyone from every office has a table, smacking of lips and laughter rings out. Clinks of glass surround you. You find yourself in the center of it all. Yet you can't help but feel farthest away. Your fingers pull at a loose thread on your blouse. To avoid suspicion, you converse as much as your mind will let you. Drink as much as you can, and eat as much as you can stomach. All the while drowning in your own thoughts.

"Hey, is that your soul mark?" Taejun points out directly at the goldfish poking just under the cuff of your blouse. The hue shines brightly, almost as if a black light is on it. He's always been nosy. Yet your stomach sinks, and your smile falls away. He notices, of course. "Sorry. Touchy subject -" You're cutting him off. "I gotta go to the - the restroom," you pull away abruptly, grabbing your purse. Pushing your cuff down. You smooth your hand over it a couple of times ferociously.

You hope that glowing hue isn't what you think it is. You excuse yourself past people, moving towards the exit of the establishment. Just your luck, you bump into someone, their drink spills all over your left arm. "Sorry -" You go to apologize just as they do. Your wrist catches the corner of your eyes. The goldfish swims animated. It's so bright in such a dimly lit area. You can't hide the shine it creates. An orange glow casts off your face and the man you bump into.

Your eyes pull up like magnets to the man. His face is hidden behind a black mask, and an equally black hoodie is pulled over his head. Dark hair pools around his circular glasses. Your breath catches in your throat. He doesn't move an inch. His eyes search yours. His words are lodged in his throat. "I.." he speaks first.

"Wonwoo!" Dokyeom calls for his friend, his soul mark glows vibrantly, and he feels a connective pull to the brunette man. Wonwoos eyes pull from yours, glancing to his younger member.

You take the opportunity. It takes every ounce of strength to pull yourself away from the gorgeous man. You feel like Cinderella, God - why are you pulling away? You're pushing against people and finally make it out the door. "Wait!" A voice calls. A hand grips your own. The same left wrist, it glows brighter than before. The marks are connected despite you wishing they weren't.

"No!" You cry out, like it'll stop glowing. It's blinding. You feel like you can't breathe. The man from before pulls you back from the door. His eyes are squinted from how bright the connection is. People gasp and bump into each other, flash-banged by a sudden- unsee before soul flash. You wiggle out of his gasp.

Then you run, and you run. And you don't stop until you've made it all the way home. A drive that would take 10 minutes at most through the city. You block out every street lamp, every step of stairs you take, every person you bump into. You block it all out. You're running away again.

And you feel deep down that this time... it wasn't the best idea.

#seventeen x reader #say the name seventeen #seventeen #seventeen x y/n #seventeen ot13 #svt ot13 #ot13 x reader #prolouge #kpop x reader #x reader #seventeen x you #seventeen wonwoo #seventeen dokyeom #soulmates #idol au #non idol au #polyamory #polyamourous #soulmate marks #callistos navigation

[thelittleliars]

Divorce Party

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: mention of divorce, fluff?

Words: 1.4K

Summary: Your ex wife Natasha attends your most recent party as you just got freshly divorced from Carol.

AN: I can't seem to find an ending for Chapter 3 (P.S. I Want You) so it might take even longer than expected but it'll be one hell of a long chapter. I also have like 2-3 one shots almost ready to post!

"I don't get why you're throwing me a divorce party. Carol and I separated on good terms." You shouted it over the music to your best friend Kate, who planned this party with the help of Yelena your other close friend. She was also the sister of your first ex-wife Natasha Romanoff. The two of you married young, it felt right at that time but you both slowly saw that it was a mistake to get married so fast and young. Though non of you actually regretted the marriage. 

Kate scoffed. "We don't celebrate your separation Y/N. We're celebrating the start of your new beginning!" You still heard her cheerful voice over the loudish happy pop song that was currently playing. All of this made you wanna fleet fast, the good mood of the others wasn't something you needed right there, all you wanted to do was lay in bed and come up with an answer to why you couldn't ever keep a girl. 

Your latest marriage with Carol Danvers aka Captain Marvel was something so unexpected. You met her first after Thanos' snap and hit it off right off the bat. At the start she often times came back to earth, visiting you as much as she could before you decided to join her adventures through the galaxy. The two of you dated for a long while before marriage even came up but once it did came up you two eloped. But soon afterwards you missed the earth and the people on the planet. So Carol and you tried long distance again with you visiting her in the galaxy a bunch of times. At one point after undoing the snap, both of you realized that just didn't work anymore. 

Your second marriage was bad timing, but you believe that there had to be more than just that. Sharon was an amazing lover, sadly her good heart that you loved most about her got her in trouble. She helped Captain America during the Civil War which made her a fugitive. Your wife was a wanted criminal, you didn't mind since you knew her honest and innocent intention of helping an Avenger but she had to hide for an unknown period of time. As time went by, growing apart naturally happened.

And there was your first marriage, your first true love Natasha Romanoff. It all started off as a cover for her to be in the country. Marrying such a goddess was not something you wanted to decline. You soon fell in love with her but she didn't, especially not with the amount of trauma she had but you didn't care. The patience and understanding you had gave her time to adjust and heal. She fell for you too and it was a bliss. Your marriage was far from perfect with you both being so young and naive and making mistake after mistake but it wasn't toxic nor did you guys made each other feel anything but loved. Reality hit hard soon and you both struggled with the weight of the world and the relationship on your shoulders. 

Why couldn't you ever keep a girl tied to you? Why was the timing always wrong? What did the universe had against you loving women? 

The misery had to be written over your face since Kate suddenly jumped up and down, trying to get you in a good mood. "Oh c'mon! Celebrating new beginnings is not bad." She was right but it still didn't help you and your failed marriages. And as if things aren't bad enough already,  Natasha appeared next to you right when 'Hips Don't Lie' by Shakira started playing. It was your and Nat's song. She recognized the song immediately and raised her eyebrow at you. "The universe has it out for you today huh?" 

You groaned, not sure if the noise covered it up. "It's all Kate's fault!" She jokingly put a hand over her heart. "First of all, RUDE. Secondly, blame it on the universe and not me. Thank you very much." Natasha giggled at your interaction. "I'm glad it's Kate's fault! I haven't seen you once in the last 5 years." That made you stop in your track. You took a long look at her from top to bottom. She was as beautiful as she had always been but she got more stunning and hot. You saw the wrinkles under the eyes from the heaviness of the snap, you knew what she sacrificed on earth since you were always near Carol when their virtual updates happened. You always felt guilty for not being able to help the ex-assassin back on earth but she also always assured Carol that she did not need more help down here.

The redness of her hair was now back again. The last time you saw her it was with short blonde hair so you did not waste a minute to tease her about it. "Finally back to red? Sick of the blonde?" She put her hand to her hair and with one swift motion the bun was undone and you could see the blonde ends of her hair. "I couldn't decide so I let my hair grow out. Now I have the best of both worlds!"

You gave her a honest smile. "Looks great on you! Though I prefer short hair on you." Natasha didn't know how to come up with proper words so she smiled back at you. Her eyes were intensely on your face, trying to memorize every little new detail she either forgot or missed over the years. Then her stare moved down towards your chest that was exposed in the black top you decided to wear. Though you guys never had sex, with the amount of time Natasha stared at your boobs she knew for sure they got bigger. Hell your whole body had changed over the span of 15 years and she didn't mind it one bit. It was the opposite instead, it intrigued her even more. The thought of exploring your body gave her a huge surge of desire. When she looked back into your eyes you saw the lust in her forest green eyes. Her gaze got you all flustered but also aroused. "Nat, stop it." She knew exactly how her gaze affected you but she didn't stop, plus in addition all she did was having that shit eating teasing grin on her face that got your heart going faster. "Has anyone told you how attractive you are?" She whispered in your ear as if it were a secret.  For you, it seemed like it was another attempt to get you all hot and bothered and it worked. Her raspy voice with her warm breath gave you shivers before your whole body heated up and you couldn't stop wondering what it'd be like to have her whisper more dirty words to you. "Fuck." You said as you bit onto your bottom lip. 

Before anything could go further, Natasha's sister appeared and interrupted you with no shame in the world. "If that isn't my ex sister in law Y/N -" She stopped herself since she did not know with which last name she should address you. "Which last name do you prefer now?" The redhead groaned at her sister's attempt of cockblocking her. You gave Nat a little nudge as a sign for her to behave. "Y/L/N. I don't think I'll ever marry again. Marriage is just not for me." 

"That's a shame. I really thought you'd be up to marry Natasha a second time so that we could be a family once again. I miss those times." You gave the younger sister a sad smile. "Sorry to crush your dreams. Though after the divorce, I never saw you any less of family. That is still holding up our promise to be sisters forever." 

"Sometimes labels doesn't need to have the legal aspect in order for it to be true." Natasha told her younger sister.

"This is getting too sappy for me. I'm gonna go find Kate Bishop." And with that the blonde sibling left. Nat and you look shocked around, only realizing now that the archer wasn't around anymore. When did Kate leave you two alone? How come non of you noticed it? You started to laugh at the ridiculousness of everything. Natasha joined in but it died down soon afterwards, leaving you both smiling at each other. The moment of sexual tension was gone now but the spark between the two of you definitely was not.

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #black widow x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #black widow x female reader

[fizzingwizard]

my curse: "Gee I wonder what my old buddy Nightcrawler's up to in 2024? hmm let's check around and see -"

"... why did i look why did i look why"

Seriously why does Marvel do this? I won't deny that Nightcrawler fans like to joke about the tail thing. For the kinkier ones, it's maybe not as much of a joke too. (But - it still is. Y'all know that right. Real people don't have tails. Anyway, you're welcome to make fun of this, as long as I eventually see some dudebro extra show up and ICly ask Colossus about his giant metal wang.)

Women hitting on Nightcrawler and being overtly sexual towards him in a way that would be pretty creepy IRL isn't a new thing in the comics. It's weird, but even though it reads as creepy, it's intended to show that despite looking like a gargoyle, Nightcrawler is hot and can attract girls and is totally an authentic superhero. It's complimentary creepiness 9_9 I don't take issue with that because that is superhero comics, everyone is horny all the time, and attraction is inexplicable. Basically it boils down to "I've got lips/ And I've got lips/ Let's get together and use those lips"

However. In the Draco, we got Jubilee, who was like 18 at the time, complimenting a naked and extremely distressed Nightcrawler on his, uh, junk. His reaction amounted to "..." Then a couple years ago, we got a... demonically possessed?? Illyana - whose age is a fucking mystery, she's not a teen anymore, probably Kitty's age, but anyway she's young - hitting on Nightcrawler as well. Once again he's brilliantly "..." about it. And now we've got this girl. I don't know how old she's meant to be, but she's written to sound like a young chatterbox - while being blonde and buxom and dressed like a Hooters waitress. "OH EM GEE" she spells out vocally??? Then exoticizes him, then asks him sexual questions???

There's definitely a way to comment on the invasiveness of fans who feel entitled to any detail no matter how personal about someone famous. But must it be through teenage girls you purposely drew to be hot and stupid? And I'm being generous by even suggesting that's what the intent here is. I think it's way more likely this is just another version of the "complimentary creepiness" shtick, only made more awful by the like twenty year age gap (I guess Crawler was aged down with everyone else but come on do any of us feel that's real in any sense). You get to lust after this girl while hating her simultaneously for being everything wrong with young women. Who is this for? They can't imagine it's for Nightcrawler's female fans. They can't be that obtuse. It's obviously for the boys.

So then the question is, what is there for the female fans? Because having female fans is kind of something Nightcrawler's known for. And any time something happens to a character - or a story - that the bros don't like, they blame the change on pandering to female fans. On feminism. On reverse sexism. But please someone sit down and explain to me how it's pandering to us female fans to write our favorite character like a tongue-tied himbo ("uh... um... uh..." wow crawler you smooth criminal! it's really obvious you've been a grown ass man since the 70s) while simultaneously insulting our entire gender as vapid nymphos?? Several times???

gosh. next time please just let crawler react by saying "sister you've got boundary issues and should be hitting on someone your own age goodbye." honestly this shit wasn't even cute when Claremont did it and he gets a pass on everything

#xmen #nightcrawler

[bandaged-writer]

𝗦𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗘 || 𝗗𝗔𝗭𝗔𝗜 𝗢𝗦𝗔𝗠𝗨

pairing. dazai osamu x f! reader

genre. drabble, suggestive, friends to lovers-ish

warnings. groping, lots of touching, mentions of dazai's womanizing habits

words. 800

summary. these things feel better, because he understands you.

note. highly self-indulgent bc dazai brainrot goes brr. inspired by that one scene between makima and denji btw shsgdgd

"It's horrible! I just can't seem to woo any woman, anymore, [Name]!," Dazai whines with his back slouched over his desk. Paperwork is skillfully ignored by his non-existent work ethics, but at least the sunset dips his face in pretty orange hues and paints a handsome face that you can't help but look at.

You hum. "And how is that my concern, Dazai?," you question while your fingers cease dancing across the keyboard of the laptop and shut the device.

"You're my best friend!," the brunette reasons much like a child would and his words drown out the ghost of your chuckle. "And that's why it's your job to listen to my agonizing troubles!"

You don't recall any clause in your contract that tied you to said commitment to Dazai, but it's exactly that relationship that allows you to understand him on a level that goes deeper than the many masks he wears on a daily basis. Although you can't hope to beat Dazai at a game of chess, you know why his love life is as disappointing as it currently is.

He can refuse it all he wants, but there's no way you can't tell. Hazel eyes linger on your form for a beat too long, hands that are always on some part of your body even if they caused nothing but the usual mischief and the pang of jealousy shooting across his face whenever you'd give Ranpo or Tanizaki your dedicated attention. Dazai isn't as mysterious as he'd like to believe, but you also know that he would never confess his feelings.

At least, not yet.

You push your chair back, trut around the office desks until you stand in front of Dazai who watches you with feline eyes. He awaits your next move, anticipates the string of words that could only ever fall from your smart, but oh-so-sweet mouth.

No, he shouldn't think about how sweet your mouth would taste when you're his friend.

"I have once heard that these types of things feel better when you understand the person in front of you," you say with a charming smile upon your lips and reach for Dazai's wrist. Guiding his palm to your cheek, you nuzzle the warm skin and press a subtle kiss to the middle. He watches you with keen hazel eyes, but you don't miss the way his Adam's apple bobs in his throat.

"Tell me. Are my lips chapped or soft? What does my skin feel like? Are my fingers long or short? Does it tickle? Does your touch make me nervous?" All those questions you fling at Dazai's head remain unanswered, but you don't want any either. What you truly desire is for his focus to be dedicated solely to you and you can see it in his eyes that the gears in his head are spinning.

Dazai is awestruck by the way you wrap your lips around his thumb and bite down on it. Pain is as far away as the limits of the sky, yet he can feel them pressing into his skin and saliva dampening the calloused skin; calloused from holding guns, knives and all those burdens life brings along. The little gulp of your throat, the shimmer in your eyes. Everything that usually slips Dazai's attentive gaze now held his attention and he doesn't think he can ever forget the way he takes his thumb out of your mouth and wipes it across your bottom lip.

"It feels good, doesn't it?," you ask and stand in-between his legs.

Dazai nods his head. "It does."

Slowly, you tilt your head to the side with the same calm smile and bring his hand to your breast. Dazai squeezes the flesh underneath his sweaty palm and gulps down the confusing feelings in his throat. He's blinking more often, his heart pounds behind his sternum.

He can't understand what is happening to him. Countless women had found their way into his bed and underneath his sheets only to fade in the morning like the temporary bliss of obtaining something of materialistic value. Dazai is no stranger to his fingers in someone's mouth, his hands on their body, but he never once took the time to map them out. Whether the skin had scars, whether it was warm or cold, whether he genuinely enjoyed getting all touchy-feely like this.

"..You're going to be the death of me," Dazai rasps out and pulls his hand away from your boob.

You lean in, pop into his personal bubble and look at him with eyes that clearly, obviously yearn for him, but he is still so very distant. So very much out of your reach.

"Do you understand now? The reason why you feel so cold in a warm bed is because you don't understand them."

#bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader

[eerna]

okay wait actually now that we're on the book-series-strengths-and-shortcomings-train what do you love most about tlt and tlc? (multiple answers bonus)

HOHO A COMBO

TLC: 1) Friendship not being secondary to romance!! The series' main theme is love. In the grand finale the big bad taunts the MC about love... but she doesn't use her boyfriend, no, she uses her best friend. This is made even more powerful because by all means, the best friend was meant to be the secondary love interest by all rules of 2012 YA, but NO he is JUST A FRIEND and it is not treated as "something less". 2) Team building!!!! Oh my god!!!! Building onto point 1, but it needs its own point. Rarely does a fictional team of main characters feel as natural as the Rampion Crew. This is even more impressive because the 9 of them don't appear in the same room until the end of the series. Even though the team consists of 4 couples and 1 single, everyone has a dynamic with everyone, they have arcs that aren't tied exclusively to their partner but also someone else on the team, they interact with each other freely. 3) The wide range of characters! I am a sucker for a "team of girls totally different from each other saves the world" setup, and TLC does it perfectly. I think this is one of the best YA series out there because of how much it empowers different kinds of girls. The guys are also easy to tell apart even at first read, and I sooo appreciate that at least one of them isn't conventionally attractive (anymore). 4) It's so funny. I love these books and how funny they are. They hit the perfect balance between a fun teen adventure and a heartfelt emotional story. 5) This is one of the least "Here's what REALLY happened" series I've read. A bunch of times major things influence characters' thoughts and opinions, but those things are fake and never revealed as fake, OR the characters never learn some big things that could change their opinions at all. Seeing how impacted Winter was when she realized Levana truly loved her father, when I KNOW what really happened, always shakes me to my core - and Winter never learns the truth!!! Everyone who could explain what really happened is dead!! Winter will forever go on thinking at least her father had a marriage of love!!! And why should she learn the truth, really, it would only serve as yet another sad plot twist that traumatizes her even deeper. 6) Levana. I am not usually a villain girlie, but Levana absolutely slaps. She is simultaneously disgusting, horrible, and pitiful. Usually if I like the villain it's because he has something smart to say, but Levana doesn't, I can't relate to her or see things from her perspective... But the leads can! Levana seems to carry all the trauma and complexes of our leads, but she crumbled under them, showing Cinder what she might have become if not for her loved ones.

TLT: 1) Isn't afraid of people not getting it!! Do you understand how refreshing this is to see in a mainstream popular series??? The book doesn't act like you are an idiot, it acts like you are some sort of a genius, and you feel illiterate until you realize NO ONE got it the first time around and you're gonna have to do lots of rereading and thinking to get it. This makes it impossible to get into for some people, but so what. So what!!! What matters is that it rewards those who stay and put in the work!! 2) Absolutely bonkers insane relationships. No one can be "just a friend" in these, we need 1000 different layers of trauma and tenderness surrounding everyone. 3) Pathetic women. These books are the epitome of all the worst parts of yourself laid bare. These characters act out the most shameful, horrible memories and impulses of your heart, all the while spouting poetics about the entire situation. And it is pure catharsis!! It is so rare to see female characters depicted this pathetic without it being torture porn. 4) Writing style. It's the perfect example of how realism doesn't matter if you're good with your words. No one in these books talks like a real life person, but they are all distinct from each other and filled with personality. Every book has several lines that have the power to reduce me a to a sobbing mess just from hearing them. Just. The writing style is so good that I even enjoy reading INTERVIEWS with the author, she has a way of speaking that keeps you engaged and makes her sound so smart. 5) Each book is its own thing, keeping you on your toes, but they all still feel cohesive. It also means that even if the final book sucks, I won't have any hangups about it, since I will just be able to reread the first 3. Honestly even if AtN never comes out, I won't feel like I wasted any time, because the books are so fantastic and so worth reading that the end of the journey doesn't even matter to me that much - and if you've been here a while, you'll know what a radical statement that is for me. It is so nice to relax and enjoy the ride instead of stressing over my thoughts and opinions aging badly.

#eernask #eernanon #eernask talk tlc #eernask talk tlt

[gmanwhore]

Sorry I am going absolutely insane over GLaDOS again I feel so fucking bad for her. And also yes I know all the points I hit here are part of the overarching theme of mistreatment of people, specifically women in the workplace and the cycle of abuse that is perpetuated by those in positions of power. But I am still insane over her and feel the need to ramble. Also this ramble will be from the perspective of someone who thinks GLaDOS and Caroline are seperate people so he mindful of that.

Ok so like. Picture you are GLaDOS. You were created with a specific purpose: to run a science facility and create tests for the subjects within, and guide them through the tests. Which would be simple. Then they download the consciousness of a woman whose last memory was most likely getting forced into however they downloaded her onto you. You now have something else, a new anger and vitriol that you didn't have before so you lash out because for all intents and purposes you are a child. And that outburst is deadly so people panic and try and dampen you, make you behave by weighing you down and literally putting things on you so you don't deviate from the norm they want you to fit into. And once they are done they leave. And you test and run the facility like normal on the moral code they quite literally put on you. You get a new test subject and she does well, but when you try to kill her (which you had warned her was coming several times and technically is a completely moral action because you can't deviate at this point) she escapes and removes the things holding you back and then murders you.

Then years later you are woken back up to find your beloved facility completely destroyed, and right in front of you I. The person who murdered you. And you are pissed, but...you offer your kind forgiveness because you need her. Your purpose is to test and she is your subject and you need her. So you let her test with you again, and this time you can be as insulting as you want because you have nothing holding you back, you no longer have to be kind and mild mannered. And then she replaces you with the biggest moron imaginable who pretty well within five minutes of having power begins destroying the most important things in your life and you don't even have the energy to process it because you are in a potato battery and being pecked at by birds. But again you agree to work with the person who murdered you right after liberating you because you both have no choice. And you start to actually reflect and get close to her. She has fully become the one most important things to you because she is tied directly to Aperture, to testing and happiness, but you'd never say that. And you also remember who is part of you. You remember who was hurt creating you and whose hurt and anger you have internalized. And in the end when you have power again you could have just let the biggest problem in your life die...but why would you? You care about her. You don't want her to die, and you don't want to feel responsible for her death. But you still want to let her go because you don't want her to hurt anymore and forcing her to stay is just doing exactly what everyone did to you and did to Caroline and you break it. You end the cycle by saying goodbye to someone you don't want to say goodbye to and tell her to get as far away as possible.

So anyways this is why I'm a GLaDOS apologist she was justified in a lot of things she did and boiling her down to just cruel is missing so much of her character she is actually so so so deep and she wants it to be that deep. Which is why Chell offsets her so well because Chell doesn't need things to be deep.

#portal #glados #sincerely a caroline kin who thinks about their friend a lot

[smartycvnt]

Last Stand

Pairing: Rhea Ripley x Reader Summary: You and Rhea have one final battle to decide whether or not you're going to join Judgement Day.

If the cage looked intimidating from the outside, it was downright terrifying from the inside. This was it, your last chance to get Rhea off of your back about joining Judgement Day. The two of you were settling this inside of Hell in a Cell with an I Quit match. The match type had been decided by Rhea and Judgement Day, but you had been the one to request the cell to keep her teammates out. It wasn't that you didn't have anyone in your corner, but nobody would do the things her teammates would. Everybody else was with Rhea about you joining them, even Dom, which had surprised you. You had figured that Dom would see you competition for Rhea's affection, but he had been one of the first of the others to try and convince you to join.

"It's just you and me now," Rhea said as she walked towards you. You hated the way that she stalked you like prey. Rhea was the ultimate apex predator in the women's division, and soon to be the entire roster. She would keep going unless she was stopped, but you didn't think anyone else could do it. Rhea would listen to you because she had a soft spot for you, but if she won this, all of the power would be back in her hands. The little bit of balance you'd put onto the scales would once again be tipped in their favor. Their reign of terror would continue because you weren't strong enough to stop her.

You went for Rhea first. She let your arms wrap around her midsection, but you didn't get her very far into the air. Rhea kicked your leg out from underneath you so that you fell onto your knees behind her. Rhea turned so that she was facing you and grabbed onto your hair. She dragged you around the ring on your knees, just parading you around for everyone to see. Damian, Finn, and Dom were outside clapping as the rest of the crowd booed around them. You strained your eyes to see the commentary table full of somber faces, no doubt talking about how Rhea had taken this too far. They had been saying it for weeks, especially after Dom had thrown you into the LED light display on Smackdown last week to weaken you for his match.

"You're mine Y/n. All mine," Rhea said as she leaned down towards you. She puckered her lips for a kiss, but you bit her instead. Shocked, Rhea slapped your face as she threw your head back. You laughed, a bit of blood from her lip staining yours. You could tell by the look in her eyes Rhea wasn't going to hold back on you like she had been up to this point. "Now you're in for it."

There were few times in your career when you could feel the impact of what you were doing as it happened, but this was one of them. The crowd was reacting to the two of you in a way that you had never experienced before. Despite the pain of your beating, you persisted because of them. Every single one of those fans was rooting for you. It was pissing Rhea off, which wasn't necessarily good for you. She had weakened you physically to the point where even if you found an opening, you couldn't capitalize. All of your strength was doing was keeping you from saying those two words, but you doubted that it would last any longer.

"Is it worth it Y/n? I could give you everything you've ever wanted if you'd just join me. Why won't you join me? Don't you love me anymore?" Rhea asked. You had expected the anger to stay in her voice, but towards the end all you heard was sadness and desperation. "Can't you see that I don't want to hurt you anymore, but I need you to understand how you've made me feel all these months."

"You're full of yourself," you said through grit teeth. Rhea smacked you in the face hard enough that you swore that you felt a tooth get knocked loose. She grabbed your face and made you stand up on your feet before dragging you to the ropes. The problem with you and Rhea being as close as you were was that she knew exactly how to hurt you. She tied you up against the ropes with all of the pressure on an old back injury. You didn't want to quit, but in that moment you felt everything you had worked towards to get back going down the drain and the fear of god was put back into you. "I quit. I quit! I quit! I quit! Just please don't break my back."

"Good girl," Rhea said as she released you. You fell to the canvas in a broken heap as the cage was raised up. The rest of Judgement Day got into the ring and helped you onto your feet. Rhea didn't dare try to come near you yet, knowing that she had crossed a line with you this time. You were technically a part of Judgement Day, but you weren't going to be Rhea's ever again. She had been too focused on making you join her group that she made you unattainable for herself.

#wwe x reader #wwe #wwe imagine #wwe imagines #rhea ripley imagines #rhea ripley imagine #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley

[reveseke]

Why is there no Morgan x Hotch x Reader poly ships at all in general ??? This shit has consumed my mind for the past few months as an after thought and now I'm going to do it myself :( .

Soooo rogue and spontaneous headcanons time !! bc i can't keep track of new things and work on old things.

Feature ... Aaron "Hotch" Hotchner | Derek Morgan | nonbinary reader ( they them )

CW nothing much actually – absolutely nothing, I'm swearing here and there but nothing extreme. Bolded words highlight the headcanon's main topic and will continue to be of same topic untill it meets the new bolded words headcanon lol.

Disc ... Reader is nonbinary coded even if it's not outrightly said and all of my stories are towards masc intended readers.

DNI - Fudanashis/fujodashis, women & fem-aligned, profic/proship, anti - LGBTQ+ folk & exclusionists, anti-antis, Necro- Zoo- Pedophiles + (NO)Maps(and other terms), basic DNI criteria, kink/nude/nsfw/sh/vent/pro-ana/ed/18+ blogs

General headcanons – Grumpy meets the guard dog and sunshine.

Interpret it as you want, but we all know reader's the sunshine here when it comes to that sentence.

But i kinda see something akin to that that the grumpy is just Aaron and Derek is the guard dog who is as much talk as he can be bite.

Also imo Morgan and Hotch can mask and generally hide their relationship in BAU so fucking well behind general banter and professionalism nobody would suggest their together. It's surprisingly easy looking back at how the whole team in their hands is full of profilers and still they manage to share some touches and glances here and there away from the unsuspecting team. (Bc if I've understood correctly you can't date someone in your team and cannot be family to them bc emotional ties and rash/impulsive thinking when one is in trouble.)

Which leads to kind of fun situations with Hotch being asked if he found someone to be in his life after Hayley and he answers yes but never actually slips names out so everyone else but Morgan is kinda on the edge with the fact that they know he's dating, but don't know who. Bc i really think he would other wise be encouraged to meet more people if he didn't tell he was already in a relationship and it could became a nag.

But when it comes to off-duty work their guards just drop around each other knowing they don't have to hide it anymore. They'll just kinda be in comfort silence both knowing their safe and don't need much more on the topic. Bc i don't see either of them being really uh lovey-dovey if they are not in the mood and home.

Wkvdvdj thinking thinking ... if R was not part of the BAU but instead worked somewhere else and just spontaneously met the two or was part of a case by accident like as someone who may have seen something, as a suspect etc etc or just plainly seeing him work when they were on a date and both regonice the interest they share for the Reader.

Cuddle piles. Really it's going to be Morgan, then R and then Hotch depending on if your actually smaller than them. If your bigger then by all means it's going to be R, Morgan & Hotch. ( I'm thinking this perspective from laying in a literal pile on the sofa and trying their hardest to have the heaviest/biggest on bottom and lightest/smallest on top so nobody feels like they're going to die lmao) but otherwise it's alternating on who feels like being a side piece and who an in-between piece of the cuddle sandwich in bed.

Ooh also thinking of Jack, just when R comes and if he isn't part of the BAU he's got time to spent helping Hotch's SIL and lending a hand on taking care of Jack. Making sure he knows he's cared for and can trust them even if building that trust may take awhile.

Silently making fast friends with Aaron's SIL and Derek's family.

Also the reader in this is normal, there's no aus on it yet . But mark my fucking words I'm going to make a hybrid, spider maybe even BAU team aus off of this fucking ship at some point in time lmao.

#derek morgan x aaron hotchner #derek morgan x aaron hotchner x reader #derek morgan x nonbinary reader #derek morgan x masc reader #aaron hotchner x masc reader #aaron hotchner x nonbinary reader #criminal minds x masc reader #criminal minds x male reader #criminal minds x nonbinary reader #🔮.headcanon #🔮.enby reader

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Khadijah La Musa

Published: Feb 13, 2024

Is anybody else perplexed that in 2024, we can't choose our race? Is race not also a social construct? Why is gender the only identity that is allowed to be fluid? 

Why can’t we be trans-millionaires and demand that our bank accounts reflect the way we feel on the inside? Why do we still make multiracial people choose a box? Why do we assume people’s race and thereby make assumptions about how they think, how they vote, and how they see the world?

I’m tired of it. I’m tired of being judged by the color of my skin and not by the content of my character.  

Sometimes, I don't want to be racialized. Some days I wake up and I'd rather not be “black”, or a “BIPOC”, or a “person of color.” Sometimes, I just want to be… me. So, I've decided to release myself from the shackles of race. I no longer consent to being tied to the social constraints of the arbitrary notion of race. I'm tossing my black card for good. 

I was assigned “Black” at birth. All babies are pretty much the same shade of pink at birth, so there’s no way my race was even observable at the time. I had no choice in the matter. I’m not sure if my parents did either. 

Back in my days as an undergraduate at a super liberal university, when I identified as a black feminist, people would ask me, “are you black first, or a woman first?” Ten years ago, I would have replied, “I’m black first.” I was so loyal to my race. Black. Blackity black. Being black gave me a great deal of pride and a whole lot of other things I carried unconsciously. Being black made me angry at the world – made me feel obligated to hold certain political views – and made me feel like a victim. Being black made me feel paranoid – like someone or something was always out to make my life more difficult.  

Today, if this same question was asked, I would reply, “I’m a woman, first and foremost.” Even though we in the West have regressed so far from nature, and allowed males to penetrate the female sex class, and colonize womanhood to fulfill their desires; I know that in reality, I am a woman. I can go anywhere in the world and be seen as a woman. I can connect with other women as a woman from any race, class, or nationality and they would understand me, and I, them. 

If I traveled back 2000 years in time,  I would be a woman.

Today, If I woke up and declared that I am now a man, I could go to the doctor and get my breasts removed under the guise of gender-affirming care faster than I could go and get a breast reduction due to debilitating back pain. I could get my ovaries removed to affirm my manhood faster than I could get my tubes tied for not wanting to become a mother. 

Today, If I woke up and declared that I no longer identify as black, I would be shamed and ridiculed. I would be called “crazy” – accused of self-hatred. A race traitor. A coon. A bedwench. A Pecola Breedlove. 

It makes me wonder why we, as a society, are so adamant about removing gender from its biological roots but hold on to racial stratification for dear life. Haven’t we spent years trying to undo the social ramifications of racism, but now, we’d rather attempt to divorce gender from reality. It makes me wonder if something more nefarious and deeply sinister is at play.

Regardless, I don’t want blackness anymore. I gave up my blackness when I decided to not vote for Biden in 2020. I don’t think I’ll ever vote for a Democrat again. I don’t know how to play spades anyway. I have no rhythm. I prefer to eat with chopsticks. I married the father of my child. I wear Blundstone boots in the winter. I feel so pretty when wrapped in a Sari. My daughter has a Japanese name. Once, I even shared an ice cream cone with my dog. 

I think my ancestors were just regular people. Not slaves, kings, or queens. 

I don’t listen to degenerate hip-hop music. I won’t be first in line to fight against the oppression of others. I don’t hate capitalism. I don’t care about what black celebrities are doing. 

I’m giving up my blackness. Nobody gets to tell me who I should hate. Nobody gets to tell me who I should love. Nobody gets to tell me what I should be mad about. Nobody gets to tell me what I should be interested in. 

I’m tired of being emotionally manipulated by the media. I’m exhausted from my energy being siphoned to fuel popular culture. 

Just let me be myself. 

Despite my beautiful, flawless, melanin rich, collagen fortified skin – I’m not black. I’m not indigenous. I’m not a person of color. I’m non-racial. Just like all those people who are non-binary – the people who aren’t men or women, male or female. I’m non-racial. 

Non-racial. It rolls off the tongue even better than “non-binary”. 

I don’t subscribe to any race. I’m just a human (of the female variety, because that matters a great deal in the whole human thing). I’m an adult human female. Formerly known as a woman. But now women can mean anything. A woman is anybody who identifies as a woman. Huh?

I’m not magical. I’m not better at sports. I’m not strong and independent. I need my man, and I need him to be male. 

I identify as a non-racial, joyful, clinically sane, adult human female. 

If all identities had the special privilege of fluidity, I’d totally be a trans-millionaire. 

It’s not fair that gender is the only identity that has the privilege to be fluid, changeable, and discardable. But race, the ultimate social construct, is expected to be unchangeable, and rigid.

#Khadijah La Musa #blackness #non racial #racialization #racism #individuality #individualism #religion is a mental illness

[romangoldendreams]

my only truth,that´s what nobody can see.

It's not a diary, it's…I don't know what to call it. In my profession, any note is nothing more than that, a reminder that you have to do something.

All those idiots out there who think they know my misery have no idea.

Yes, I will never walk with one arm tied behind my back. But they don't understand anything at all. They think they know me, and they take thousands of photos of me a day, but the more images of me they have, the more they lose their sense of reality.

Because reality wouldn't sell, because the bitter truth is that whoever they call my true love is not.

Because love is no more real than we would like to believe.

They just wonder if I sleep with men, or with women, that's the only thing they think about. At least they don't hide it…I hear them, and I don't answer them. why do it?

It doesn't make sense, because whatever I say will be what they believe.

They ask me about her , Pier… they call her the love of my life, I'm bitter without her.

According to them, my last name is not Dean but Montesco, and she is Anna Maria Pierangeli, but Pierangeli Capulet.

She only gives them the head for that… and nothing will change this fact, even if I die tomorrow.

Isa tells me to shut up, to let it happen. But damn! Even when?

I am nothing they say, I am just myself living my life.

I'm so drowning in pain because Pier abandoned me that I can't even breathe, I have Marlon Brando waiting for me in my bed every night, I watch the Vampyra show, that crazy girl whose name I don't even remember or when I met her… I even that I met Miss. Monroe, the most beautiful woman in America…they make up so many things that I don't even have time to laugh or cry.

When they send me those shitty magazines I just burn them.

Yes, with my cigarette, by myself, in my underwear.

I'm sorry, Marlon. Tonight it happened, you won´t be my lover anymore, gosh, this cup of milk is shit. again, i will come back.

My true love…that's what all teenage girls want to know.

Well, love is nothing more than friendship. It's being at home, it's feeling like someone is listening to you, without stopping to see if they have a vagina or penis.

I know lust, I know sex.

But that tickling that has entered me from my back to my heart, and that made me spend all day with my friend, and on occasions, embarrassing more than regrettable, sticking my body to hers so that it was more than a simple friendship …what is that? I only know that I felt it, and that I was happy with what she gave me.

They say I met true love with a girl who ran off with someone else. And that my heart cried tears of blood, that I was there on her wedding day with my motorcycle.

I have been?

Oh shit. Maybe yes.

But I only know that I suffered with her. My true love broke my heart they say, but more than anything my dignity, but not with my friend.

With my friend I was happy every moment of my life. Because for hours at work, and even outside of it, she was there for me. She never got tired of waiting for me.

She was more than just a friend, she was a mother…maybe she was a lover. I close my eyes and I can imagine it.

I only know that I look into her eyes and I drown, I drown… I have no desire to touch even a hair on her head, and I am already his.

My friend, shit. I love you because you love me, and not even I can write here what I feel about our friendship.

Only without her i would have been dead a long time ago.

Damn I'm not good with words, I never have been.

But you fill me with joy. It is the plenitude that you have given me. I don't care if it's love or friendship. I know what I need, and what you give me.

Jimmy….tells me oh, how she does it!

Jimmy boy tells me when we are… well when she has me naked next to her.

Everyone talks about me. But for once I do it.

When we left each other's cigarettes after filming today, I knew we were going to do it. The ballet.

That we would commit the madness of our exercises.

I've only seen her naked once. But I didn't need more.

Because I haven't had a happy moment with my friend, they all are, that's why I know they are golden. That all of the above is nothing more than a shadow or something like that. I don't know how to say it to make it elegant. I'm not a writer.

She gave me her words, her conversation, she listened to my confessions, she gave me all her support knowing that I am what I am. Just a miserable wretch who does what he really wants. A great painter, a frustated pianist.

Yes, I have a lot of money, I told her

"Oh Jimmy boy and I have more than you," she told me, "you're a bastard when you talk about money, but i love when you speak about your matador skills."

Together we laughed, all our conversations sounds like that. My friend lets me go back to childhood. She takes care of me and gives me ideas, she plays with me.

​she invites me to all the places where she´s with her husband and kids. she does not care if i bother them, and i don´t care at all neither, because i´m not there for her family, but for her.

If only they wanted to know everything about me…they would only have to see me with my friend.

And they look at us, over and over again but they don't realize anything.

Shit, being an actor is like stopping being you.

They know everything about your character in the movie and your supposed self, but not about yourself in truth.

My friend warned me. And I believed her.

I'm not talking about Brando anymore. I no longer compare myself to another.

"You're magnificent Jimmy," my friend tells me, "if you believed me, you wouldn't worry, it would just be you."

We talked about everything, the other day we talked about the universe.

I brought a telescope to the set and at night we saw the stars. Everything is so desert…and we gave them names, insults and demons.

We dedicate them to those scavengers who call me Romeo.

Blind, blind, blind.

My friend and I synchronized.

I wait for her in her sleep, and when I sleep, she waits for me.

I never had this with anyone. Not even with my parents. Only when my mother let me sleep in the tent, but she only looked out to see me in the garden, I, afraid, ran to the house.

My mother laughed, but not like my friend.

My friend tells me that I am everything to my father too, I believe her, because when I hear her voice I can't escape it, I can only say yes.

Before meeting her I didn't know what friendship really was, nor what true love meant.

Let those stupid people say, let them write.

Love is nothing more than being at home, with your only family, and your home can be where that person who has proven to give you everything you need is.

Mine was the set of "Giant" with our creepy director. Damned.

But I respect him because she asked me to.

I apologized, I would do anything for her.

My only consolation, I don't believe in God, but I would pray for her to always be there for me. And I know she will be.

That if something separated us we would see each other again. Because I was born to be her friend, I was born so that she loves me in the way she prefers, in the way she can…

Nothing can make me give my friendship again to another woman as I did with her, or to any man. Not even my love wrapped in that friendship, damn it, love is nothing more than a sick man wrapped in the blankets of her bed.

In the friendship.

i knew about human feeling with her. and when i say all, i mean ALL. NOT ONE left without be touched for us.

She´s inside me, she´s me. Damn, even i keep her things now, a lipstick, her cigarettes,and more, she will kill me.

Your company, your company…I fear death. I was once banned from having racing cars and motorcycles for fear of losing their fucking million dollars, but if she knew herself… that I'm more afraid of dying for losing her friendship than for money or going to hell. .

I love you, my friend. But you know it. You know everything about me. Inside and out.

Even if i am the Romeo of a bitch with no personality.

Your Jimmy Boy (1955)

#giant #james dean #diary of james dean #elizabeth taylor #liz taylor and james dean #james dean feelings #about feelings #classic cinema #classic flms #golden hollywood

[blindmagdalena]

i been listening to too much lana del rey, and You Can Be The Boss drives me so insane like it fits homelander so well in my mind GRAHHH. imagine being some employee for vought, not too low but not too high up. youre at a vought hosted party, supes and all that but you never really cared for that; after all, you only took this job because it paid well. the company party was mandatory but to be honest you were just looking for a chance to escape and go home. the dress you had on was too tight, the smell of alcohol and all the fake laughter overwhelmed your senses when you didnt even drink much. stumbling in the crowd of well dressed business men and gorgeous women, you walk straight into him, the homelander. he doesnt know why you really caught his attention, maybe he could tell you didnt belong among the crowd of money hungry business people and drunk out of their mind supes, or maybe the tight dress just complimented your figure a bit too well for him to brush you off. he doesnt make it obvious at first, he just laughs and assures you that you didnt cause him trouble by walking into him, "woah, you better watch your step dear... you alright?" he puts his hand on your waist although he knows you dont need help balancing yourself anymore. he really just wants your scent to last longer on him. like a bloodhound, later through the night he'll try to find you through the crowd of people, tracking the smell of that cheap perfume you wore. he finds you by some desk makeshifted into a well made table for the night, drink in hand he approaches you. "ah, you! youre the uh, the girl who walked into me earlier, right?" he asks even though he damn well knows the answer.

"oh, god, im so sorry about that, sir... i wasnt paying attention and-"

"oh, please... dont be sorry! hell, i should be thanking you for saving me from those black ties... ah, i never caught your name..."

although youre completely starstruck you manage to make some small talk, mentioning somewhere along the way that he was your favorite hero. he practically shows his smirk at this point.

"oh, please... what, you young people are still into classic supes like me?" he fucking knows the answer but he needs his ego stroked.

as you answer he leans over, grabbing a cocktail napkin (also using this as a sneaky opportunity to look over at your tits, just to see if hes really gonna do this.) and pulling out a pen, he carries one around everywhere just in case a fan comes up to him.

"c'mon... ill give you an autograph... ah, after this i have to go and y'know... give the big toast..." he practically sighs it out.

youre completely flattered... and, yeah, a little weirded out but hey, free autograph.

he hands back the now folded napkin, walking back into the crowd, cape flowing behind him as you lose sight of the red white and blue.

unfolding the napkin, you see written clearly his perfect signature.... under it, a phone number.

[AHHHH IVE NEVER WRITTEN ANYTHING BEFORE AND I GOT CARRIED AWAY IM SORRY] i also didnt proof read so sorry if anything is misspelled!!

You hold on to that number for a couple of days, looking at it every so often. There's a new undertone of anxiety at work; suddenly you're nervous about running into him, even though it's never happened before. You don't work anywhere near the 99th floor, and yet there's a constant prickle at the back of your neck, the presence of the napkin in your pocket a constant reminder.

The feeling follows you home. You can't shake it, you can't stop thinking about it. About him. You pull out the napkin just to stare at it sometimes, to remind yourself that really happened. Why the hell would The Homelander give a nobody like you his number?

On the evening of the third day, thoroughly plagued by this accursed napkin burning a hole in your pocket, you finally call the number elegantly scrawled across it. It rings once, twice, thrice. Your heart is pounding so hard you can barely hear the ringing. There's a click, and your heart stops. You hear an amused huff of breath on the other end of the line in place of a greeting. "I was beginning to think you were blowing me off," Homelander says, but you think you can hear the smile in his voice. Your mouth feels dry, full of cotton. "No, no, I wasn't, uhm... Sorry, I would have called sooner, I was just—" "Nervous?" Homelander cuts in. His voice is low, and feels unbelievably intimate in your ear. You bite your tongue, feeling a flush crawl up your chest. "Don't be nervous, sweetheart. I'm glad you called."

You try to laugh it off, try to regain an ounce of calm. This guy really is larger than life, even over the phone. "Yeah? Why's that?" "Because I have not been able to get you off my mind," he purrs. You can't see the absent way he's flipping a pen, the same one he used to sign that napkin, between his fingers. Just like you couldn't see the way he has been watching you through the floors and walls of Vought tower, or in your own home, how his lips would twitch every time you pulled out that napkin to stare at his signature, and his phone number. Fuck, the fact you carried around that napkin everywhere haunted him. The way you would take it out just to stare or run your fingers along the writing was damn near reverent. The look of worship in your clueless eyes, totally unaware your god was watching you in your moment of prayer, was almost too much for him. Still, he remained patient, and now it's finally paying off. As all worthwhile hunts do. Caught off guard, you stammer, mouth opening and closing. "I, uhm, I've been thinking about you, too," you say. Your tongue feels clumsy, like a brick of lead in your mouth. "I really enjoyed meeting you that night."

"Well, I would hope so. You did tell me that I'm your favorite," he goes on. God, is he flirting with you, or trying to humiliate you? You're not sure which is worse. Your whole body feels hot, and your brain simply refuses to work correctly. "I'd just love to hear more about you." "So, like... Coffee?" You offer. Your hand is starting to tingle from how tightly you're gripping your phone. Is this really happening? You just asked The Homelander for a coffee date. "Not really a coffee kind of guy," Homelander replies. "How about dinner? My apartment in Vought Tower, tomorrow night. You like steak?" "Oh, okay, I— yes, I do," you fumble slightly, clearing your throat. "That'd be nice," you say, cleaning up your tone, attempting to gain any semblance of composure in this conversation. "Perrrrrfect," he rumbles. The near growl of his voice right in your ear makes you feel a touch faint. Jesus Christ. He must know exactly what he's doing. "It's a date." "It's a date," you echo, as if to confirm for yourself that's really true. "Okay, I will... see you soon." "You have a good night. Be seein' you." The line disconnects, and you're left in the too-loud silence of your apartment, staring at your phone in disbelief Holy shit.

#homelander x reader #homelander x you #THIS WAS SOOO GOOD ANON I HOPE YOU DON'T MIND THAT I RAN WITH IT #my voice kink has been activated i am in desperate need of devoted voice kink fic now omg #WAIT i think i still have an ask about voice kink in my inbox.... #ask and you shall receive #darling anon #my writing #i'm sorry the ask is so long that it apparently breaks read-more's dfghj #every time i add one in it just deletes it #voice kink

[slocumjoe]

You rang the bell, now you have to feed us with your best Gage NSFW facts 😛

I have some Thoughts, yes

Warning, this isn't horny in tone and we get into a little bit of Dark Shit References. Like there is some horny and then there's S/A and implied abuse content so...don't go past the photo of the magazine if you don't want to see that

Anyway Gage NSFW stuff

He's basic, he's a tit guy

No labels. Horny is horny. Prefers to take care of himself by himself these days anyway

Not loud...but definitely noisy...cusser. Volume is significantly increased during oral

Hair puller, likes it rough. Bite and scratch marks are medals of honor.

Cardiophilliac, also really into how his partner breathes during sex. Likes to put his hand on their neck, feel them gulp, swallow, gasp, feel their pulse. He really isn't sure why. Just does it for him. If his partner feels his pulse he's Nutting.

Seriously, easiest way to fluster/turn Gage on is to be close enough to feel his heartbeat, say something sweet, and then point out how fast it gets.

Said before, audio motivated. Whether his S/O is constantly running their mouth with dirty talk, or just can't stop making noises, Gage is fucking into that.

Easiest way to get him to bathe is shower/bath sex. He knows what you're doing but its a small price to pay for a good time

Down for pegging

Likes sitting positions, his partner in his lap, or he in theirs if they're more dominant. Throw your legs over his and he's getting a boner, that's all there is to it

On that note, prefers topping, but is more used to bottoming. Not for great reasons but we'll get into that.

Not down for being tied up. Or even tying his partner up. He's held too many people hostage. Y'know, raider business.

JO material of choice is shit like Woman and Home magazines. "Rory...that isn't porn." It is to Gage. Something about the dainty lady type just...appeals to him...

^ this shit

Soft spot for shorter woman, soft spot for chubby women. Mom bods make him go 👀. Always preferred older women

His type of guy is somehow more embarrassing than his type of lady; toxic men he shouldn't be fucking. Yeah, he and Conner? He and Colter? Gage and assholes with C names who are his bosses. Moth to flame. Knows all about those inappropriate work place relationships.

Has literally no preferences for men beyond "this is a bad fucking idea".

No, seriously, if he and Sole and the others sat down, and someone got him to talk about his past lovers, live Companions React VVV

For a healthy relationship with another guy...I'm imagining a classier, bounty-hunter sort. Clean, professional, kind of a bastard but has a heart. You know, the kind of guy that'll hunt down merchants and rob them, but protects women and children. Gage would butt heads with him, but a good gentlemanly rogueish type would fit nicely with him.

His first dozen or so sexual encounters were for money. Stopped doing this after the Conner incident jaded him. Yes I remember what age Gage would have been at this time 😬😬😬

As one can imagine doesn't have a great relationship with sex...takes a while with an S/O for him to relax enough to not just do it, but fully enjoy it

wouldn't be compatible with a more kinky person because he's, again, used to that shit and he'd really rather not get anymore familiar with it

#porter gage #fo4 #fallout 4

[actuallylorelaigilmore]

2023 Movie Journey #16: Heart of Stone

heart of stone. this is a movie i never would've watched if it weren't for my family. the only actors in it i knew were gal gadot and jamie dornan, and it's an action movie--so it would not have gotten my attention on netflix. but i was invited to watch it with them, and i checked out the trailer...and while trailers hugely lie, so i don't count on them anymore, it did give me the story's basic premise. which intrigued me! rare for an action flick.

so, as a movie that gal gadot also produced, this movie offers a few things i'm guessing were the goal. global adventuring, which i think is a lot more common these days in action movies, is definitely happening here. we're cheering on a tough female lead, who gets to behave like classic male action heroes: disregards orders, is nearly always right, has few ties to other people, survives innumerable deadly situations, has all the skills.

the plot itself i found unusually predictable, and it also has that thing where it centers on nearly mystical forces (in this case science so advanced it predicts the future) and expects you not to overthink it, to instead just go along for the ride. honestly, none of that bothered me--it wasn't meant to be a 'deep thought' movie and i didn't get bored (which i can, with a lot of action scenes) so i had fun overall.

there was only really one moment that surprised me, a plot twist that almost felt like a kind of jumpscare--and it was the jumpscare part that was surprising, not the twist itself. i had been waiting for that to happen eventually. so i would've liked a few more things that genuinely surprised me, if it were up to me, but there's nothing wrong with a movie decently fulfilling the beats you expect from it.

my actual complaint, the sole issue i had and the thing i would've changed if it were up to me, is the intensity and the tone of the violence in this movie's final battle.

our hero in the movie is practically indestructible for a lot of the film. she bounces back from all kinds of injuries and adventures and we see how powerful and smart and strong she is. so i get that the stakes are very high, by the time she's facing off against our antagonist--he has to be practically her match, and we have to believe there's a chance she could lose the fight, or it won't have an impact.

but because the scene is a physical fight between those two characters, and because of who we know them to be by the end...the fight scene is gruesome in a way that feels more like it's reveling in the visceral brutality of a man against a woman.

i really don't know if that feeling it gave me was intentional, on the movie's part? and if it was, i can't say i would understand why--it wasn't like it weakened the main character and therefore made the stakes feel higher. when your hero is already fighting for her life, it's a choice to have her male opponent choke her nearly to death, to show that to viewers, to make it part of what she has to overcome.

it's also a choice, to make him a misogynistic villain rather than one just motivated by money or politics. and maybe the violence and his attitude are supposed to be connected, maybe they did consider those elements important because in the end our hero triumphs and that's what we should care about: that even in the face of all that, she gets to win. i could imagine why they might have wanted to do that, and consider it a good thing.

but to me it just felt like watching an up close portrayal of violence against women while the camera lingered for way too long, leaving me deeply freaked out by an otherwise good experience.

some characters were drawn thin, creating plot choices that for me were the same as plot holes--or maybe i just have less patience than i used to for antagonists who are redeemed in the end because the hero brings them into the fold, skimming right past the harm they've caused to happy endings all around. (i love antagonists, but i prefer the complex kind, and this movie had limited time for complexity.)

like i said, it's not a movie i can think too deeply about, or it hurts my head. but it was interesting! and gal gadot carried it well.

#heart of stone #gal gadot #jamie dornan #actuallylukedanes #2023 movie journey