#like I’m attracted to femininity but I’m also alienated by it?
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Overture (Prequel to Enlightenment) — {Feat. Karina}
8.7k words
A/N: You don’t know how old this draft is… I still remember that anon who sent a few asks about this series, and I really hope that they read this! This one is the longest I’ve ever written. Might not be the best piece, but I’m so proud of myself that I did my best. Thank you @dnd-writes for editing and giving me awesome advices. Enjoy!
*Prequel to “Enlightenment”
******
“Doesn’t matter how the two met. It’s about how they’re together ‘til now.”
******
It’s the first day in your new high school. It’s already March but the breeze is yet to blow winter away, strongly acclaiming its presence with the icy wind you face as soon as you come out of the main building of your school to go to the cafeteria. You haven’t made any friends to have lunch with yet, so you change your mind to just head to the smoking spot–behind the auditorium which is already an alien building itself–and kill some time smoking. You turn your way to the smoking spot inside the huge tide of students heading to the cafeteria. Freezing air makes you pace up to the spot.
After passing a few corners where even the wind has been disturbed to travel through, you find a drum can with fire in it making a peaceful crackling sound.
And a girl standing right by it as if wanting to get burnt. “Are you the new one?” Her voice is sharp enough to make it sound wary, yet quite chirpy to end up hitting you as rather coquettish.
“I don’t… I don't really know you,” Your steps towards her contradict your words. “Me neither.” At the fire you light your own cigarette. Your eyes scan her body from the ground to meet hers doing the same to you. The yellow name tag catches your eyes. Her name is Yu Jimin, third grade. And where the name tag is what makes your attention gather up too–perfect size, matches her wavy figure and sassy face, calmly heaves when she’s inhaling in the smoke.
“My name’s not that hard to read,” That’s when you realize that Yu Jimin, this unusual girl, will be an attraction with challenges. It’s all in her grin, in her turbid eyes that never leave yours–to be honest, it’s yours that never leaves hers; they won’t let the leash on your eyes loosen, until she wants to.
You suck it in, and breathe out a mouthful of smoke in the cold air. You look at her again and she's been watching you thoroughly, from head to toe, examining your body, shape, façade and all things she finds nice to look at, regardless of you mirroring her like once isn’t really enough.
She’s got such a nice, sculpted body, hidden under the school uniform but even more premo like that; concave and convex, it just hugs her curves impeccably. Narrow waist and wide, tight hips causing the skirt to struggle not to be torn apart. What’s more is her face, at the height of your chest, looking almost unrealistic, inhumanly beautiful, especially with a shallow grin like right now.
You are automatically making steps toward Jimin and she’s not backing up. You turn your head right to let out the smoke and then return to the ongoing gaze between you two.
“Don’t I look cold?” Jimin steps backwards, from the fire and from you. It makes you just automatically look at her legs, so slick and teem with femininity. You keep following what she tells you to do, what the hormones tell you to do.
“What do you want me to say?” It should be delivered as a counterattack to the dominance Jimin has shown you, but it, unfortunately, ends up sounding as if you were really confused. And Jimin almost bursts into laughter which she manages to hold in.
“So, third grade? What class are you in?”
“Two. You?” You drop the used cigarette and step on it to put it out. “Four. I’ll drop by sometime, handsome.”
Then she leaves the spot just like that. You are so interested in the girl Yoo Jimin. Given that she’s pretty like that, smokes around, she’s nothing like the normal students, obviously. And you can tell Jimin also found you special. Yeah, you know people don’t get to see a man like you quite often. You also know you don’t get to see a girl so appetizing like her often. It’s third year in highschool. You’re no amateur to let a girl play you around, rather, you’ve learned to control those feisty, hungry girls, but ugh, to be honest you don’t know what’s going on.
******
She never comes to see you until the end of school. Nor do you, because you thought you could wait–precisely, you thought you had to wait. You definitely want to take the upper hand in this new relationship so you just head home, yet with a bit of disappointment. But you don’t let anyone know. Maybe she’s just playing you out. That’s unacceptable for you. You calmly wait for the bus deep in thought. Maybe find someone else tomorrow. I don’t know.
“Hey, going somewhere?”
Fuck. It’s her. Jimin.
You think of complaining, but swallow it back and answer. “Home. You?” Jimin shrugs with nonchalance. “I don’t know. Your place, maybe? Do you live alone?” She lunges in suddenly, and you could just let her be as spunky as she can be. “I do. Why do you want to know that?” You throw a question, feigning calmness, and Jimin just smirks back.
“Don’t ask me.”
You’re on the bus. You let Jimin take the window side and sit next to her. You stuff your ears with some random songs and lock your eyes to the screen in your palm to leave the absorbing girl next to you out of your world even for a second.
“What made you move to my school?” Suddenly one of your earphones is between her fingers, your arm in hers to squish her breast slightly which feels so intentional. This bold little chick keeps surprising you in unforeseeable ways. Besides, you can read that she’s definitely testing you. Seems a little bit like an upside-down situation, for you to be the object, and oh, don’t you say you don’t find this rather fun.
“Well, there was an accident. You don’t need to know any further.” Her questions don’t seem to end, however. An eye roll might silence her—
“You can tell me. It’s alri-“
“You’d better shut the fuck up, Jimin.” Your fingers hold her chin up, facing you, merely a breath away as your noses tickle each other. And what gets you a moment later is her eyes, round and glowy, that could easily see through your brain, trying to suffocate you in the vivid yet gooey gaze. And there she plants her words straight into your brain; I’m a little impressed, but try harder.
A sudden squeak of the brake informs you to get off. You step out of the bus and Jimin quietly follows. Then you start walking at a rather slow pace. The sound of another pair of footsteps is the only clue of her existence for you.
“You made me wait.” You break the silence as you near your house. You don’t bother turning back to be an audience for her commanding attitude, but her cockiness nonetheless makes it to your ears.
“Well, I might have just forgotten. My bad.” You unlock the door, let Jimin in and close it. Right after the thud you pin her arms over her head with one hand, eliciting a sharp yelp from her.
“You made me fucking wait, Jimin. You’ll have to pay for it.” Your face is just a few inches from hers again. Your straining voice is mixed with her breath, hot, and your burning gaze never leaves hers, to return the blow that she had on your mind; you don’t know me yet.
“You should feel lucky.”
“Why?”
“I’m interested in you.” Jimin’s words, however, don’t sound tense or weak despite your visible dominance. Rather, it’s an impudent confidence that defies the dynamic knotted between your eyes. Jimin herself visualizes it with an even wider smile, dense with deliberate harm to your ego.
“Mmm…!” You dive into Jimin’s lips while your other hand suddenly wraps around her neck hard. Keeping the chokehold still, your hand once holding her wrists tears her school shirt open, letting the buttons randomly fly to the floor. With her hands free, they dangle on your arms. Her demure hand tries to push you back from her neck, but her tongue is flapping inside your mouth, already allured by the intenseness. Your other hand hesitates about before swiftly undoing her bra and Jimin drops it on the floor. You squeeze the godly pair of flesh and soon pull back from the kiss.
“Shit, you like it rough, huh?” Jimin giggles, with a killing lip bite, and discards her buttonless shirt. There you feel something kick your heart, to see a girl enjoying your selfishness and harshness for the first time. A thought that this girl might be the one for you passes through your mind like a hit-and-run truck.
You turn yourselves around and make Jimin walk backwards to your bedroom with your guide. Jimin doesn't wait to unbutton your shirt on your way, and the corners of her lips soon get pulled down by the lust exponentially charging up. You try to look calm but you’re no different–can’t help it in front of this amazing figure of Jimin, skin-to-skin just for you.
Entering the bedroom you push Jimin onto the bed. Her under lip experiences another intense bite as you lay her down and climb over her body, face to face just like a few minutes ago. With one hand supporting your weight, you take the other to her irresistible breasts and fondle them. Jimin hooks her arms and magnetizes your lips to hers for a delirious lip lock once again. Your hand slides down her torso to the button of her uniform skirt and undoes it then takes it off of her fatal legs and throws it to the floor.
“Next time you won’t wear these, okay?” It’s a demand but also a command, with your fingers on the wet spot on her panties. Her hands find themselves wandering on your toned chest, much in admiration. She nods quickly and unbuckles your pants.
“Needy,” Her hastiness makes you grin, and your words only make Jimin’s excitement grow.
“Yes. I am.” This is what makes you wanna accept the challenge; she’s talking things like that all too fresh, like you have to feel thankful for it. You take your pants off with your underwear to be fully naked. You help Jimin get rid of the annoying cloth being dampened by her pussy off her legs and throw it to the pile of clothes on the floor. With the anticipation for the next step Jimin’s breath paces up, running thin like her patience.
“You’re fucking big…” Jimin marvels at the way your cock tickles her belly button and her tummy. You slap her bare stomach a few times with your cock, spit on it and spread the slickness across with slow strokes.
“I said you’ll have to pay for it, Jimin,” You rub your cock on her wetness, gaining more lubrication, and slap your cock on her folds to see her reaction.
“Ah, please make me…Make me-OH FUCK…!” You push into the hilt with a swift thrust. The tightness draws a groan straight from your throat, and your right hand rises to her neck and chokes her hard again.
“You tell me who’s lucky. You think it’s still me?” Straight to the point that has been bothering you ever since it was spoken. You love to make things clear—dirty—who’s the one to stand and who’s the one to kneel. And if she ever intended to get under your skin, well, she pushed the wrong button.
Jimin’s eyes slam shut, unlike her agape mouth through which you can see her tongue has lost its way, dragged here and there by the hand of her senses, overthrown by what you’re doing. You keep thrusting in and out at such a pace, every time making sure your balls hit her ass, filling her tight hole up ecstatically with no vacancy.
“Hah, god…! It’s me, I’m the lucky one! I’m so fucking lucky to have your big cock inside me!”
“Good. See, your act doesn’t last a day.”
Her lips tremble, as if about to cry, as if all the fucking around was just a pretense and she actually has to be under you. She bites the lower one but can’t hold the shiver down.
You move your hand from Jimin’s neck to her face, grabbing her cheeks in one grip. You bring her face close to yours, both shaking to the orgasmic rhythm but never losing eye contact. Then you slap her cheeks, out of nowhere, just enough for the sound to be pleasurable but not too painful. Jimin starts to drool when you do that several times more, with loud, long moans gradually turning into screams.
“Oh, fuck, yes…! FUCK YES…!” Done with the hitting, you push in your fingers to Jimin’s unsilent mouth to get a better hold of her body. A teardrop leaves her glossy eyes and rolls down to where her ear is. A perfect mixture of pain and pleasure, both of which makes you two forget about tomorrow.
“I’m cumming, Jesus! I-I… Fucking cummi-“ Jimin’s back viciously arches so upward that you almost slip out. Her arms don’t seem to settle for a while before they dig into your back to work as anchors, her body vulnerable in the midst of a destructive swirl of pleasure. But that’s none of your concern as you make the haze in her head threaten her consciousness.
“Fuck, you’re perfect.” You wait for Jimin to come down but that’s so silly of you to do so; your ravageous ramming cock never lets her. All of a sudden you pull out, causing Jimin to shake immensely, and flip her on all fours. Her sex is glistening and the other hole is too, both of them slick with her juices and constricting irregularly.
When Jimin feels your cock rub on her pussy she collapses onto the mattress, only her ass up and her face down, exhausted on the bed, faced to the right. But whenever your cock teases her other hole Jimin shudders, toes curl and her fists try to tear your sheets at the sensation of her asshole getting stimulated.
“Agh, fuck…” You don’t warn Jimin when you insert the head of your cock inside her tight ass. This time even you can’t handle the pleasure of its tremendous tightness as you shut your eyes and groan loudly.
“Holy fuck, Jimin, this is so tight,” You tell her when you’re halfway in. Her body stays still, but her hands ball up and her toes curl until they all become pale. Every inch deeper inside her ass is the moment for you to admire the transcendental tightness you’ve never experienced from those other girls you have been through. Maybe you’re lucky too, to have found this perfect body with nothing to lament on.
“Oh, please, that’s deep! Fuck my ass deep just like-oh my fucking god!” Your reaction is quick—it’s more of a reflection though—doing more than what Jimin asked even before she finishes her words, beginning the mindless assfuck with such a carefree pace. You bring her powerless head up with your hand wrapped around her neck, tight, choking her again. The tighter you grip, the tighter her ass gets. You catch a glimpse of the crooked corner of her lips, which only fuels your inner engines to work even harder.
It’s just your thing; when you see a smile, you have to break it. You destroy it, and you sincerely cherish it when it’s gone.
As you reach your maximum speed Jimin’s distorted smile subsides and an even more euphoric look spreads. Mouth open wide, drooling down her chin and onto your hand on her throat, eyes open but white. As if she muted herself, Jimin doesn’t even breathe—not only because of your grip, but also the orgasm building up as fast as how you ram her ass. You grin at the sight of Jimin drowning in the sensations her own nerves convey; you create. It kills you how small her body is, when you can witness a simple—yet ruthless—piston to her crotch can dye her whole skin red, travel electrically to everywhere in no time, shrinking every minimal muscle. You release her, she falls down limp on the bed and screams at the anal orgasm hitting her, threatening her consciousness.
“Ahh! Fuck, fuck…!” You’re nowhere far from your own end, either. Your breath shallows down at the crazy tightness of Jimin’s orgasming ass.
“Jimin, I’m cumming…!” You do. You reach as deep inside her anal cavern as you can and unload your cum, mind blowing pleasure coursing through every corner of your body. You shoot, and shoot, and shoot. Jimin clenches her hole for your cum to be deposited inside her with a lazy hum, in harmony with your groan seeping out of your gritted teeth.
It takes a few minutes for your breaths to find the normal speed. “No one’s fucked my ass this amazing,”
It surely was enough to bring amazement, undoubtedly the best you’ve had so far. You sit up and rearrange her hair for her.
“Did I pay for it?“ Jimin’s already got that bright smile back, and after such an extreme sex your barriers collapse in front of her, as you smile back at her.
“Very much.”
“Can you get my phone? It’s in my skirt.” You head to the pile of discarded clothes and do it for Jimin, who’s sitting on the bed with her head resting on the headboard. You toss it on the bed.
Jimin looks into her phone right away, scrolls down mindlessly and looks at you, who’s naked and standing next to the bed.
“Take a shower first, baby.”
Baby, she said.
Your eyes dart to hers immediately. Your face stays placid but you know Jimin knows you’re not at all used to it. You never really allow any strings attached with the ones you fuck; it’s a rather body-to-body entanglement than something emotional. But you’re surprised at how that word fits comfortably between you two. There’s something different. You look back at Jimin but her attention is taken by her phone already, again like a hit-and-run truck, but not completely as you can see her smirk the way you love. So you just enter the bathroom.
In the shower you review the past 30 minutes—you had sex with the girl Yoo Jimin: nothing special. But not just that; Jimin has by far the best body of all the other girls you’ve experienced. You can tell you really enjoyed it today. You can tell she’s worthy of continuing the relationship. You like the way Jimin turns from a bubbly, sassy girl in school to a begging, screaming mess in bed under you. And the way she calls you baby—it dulls all your edges like a cup of boiling water would do to an ice cube. Just like the hot water pouring on your head.
You come out of the shower and see Jimin smoking on your bed, sitting on the edge with her legs crossed, elbow on her thigh, still aesthetically naked. She looks gorgeous like that. You walk to her, take the cigarette from her hand to your mouth. Then push her down on the bed, breathe the smoke in deep and throw the shortened cigarette away to the bin next to bed, breathe out, and share a smoky kiss.
A few moments later your rod pokes at her belly and Jimin parts away with a giggle.
“Fuck, I really have to clean my body.” You bring her off the bed with you. “Shut up and get down here,” With a smirk she does, and as soon as she adjusts her legs and position you shove your cock in her mouth. A gag earned.
But after that Jimin takes your big cock pretty well, without gagging or looking uncomfortable, even when her nose crashes on your crotch; you’ve found yourself a perfect girl, indeed.
“Nice.” Her teary eyes never leave yours throughout the session as you pace up for a brief finish. Adjusting to the speed of your cock moving entirely in and out, Jimin’s hands go up to the back of your thighs for firmer grip.
Jimin’s drool tickles down your balls and forms a small puddle on the floor. With the filthiest slurping sound Jimin bobs her head at the beat of your cock sliding through. Whenever her delicate tongue presses onto the underside of your cock you throb inside her mouth, making her head slightly move simultaneously.
Jimin’s tears meet the drool on her chin, and with a sound of her voice from her throat Jimin taps your thighs for you to pull out. You take your cock out of her mouth and slap it on her fucked face a few times, painting her face with her own saliva, to her liking.
“Finish it.”
Put the shower aside, and you shower Jimin with your lust deep into her throat. You feel your legs not far from giving in, but thankfully your cock is just the same, due to what Jimin is doing under you.
“Jimin, I’m-I’m close.”
Jimin starts to fondle your balls and that certainly helps you cross the line. In no time you fill her throat up white, and the room with your satisfied groan.
You look straight into Jimin’s eyes when you cum, and it’s astonishingly reciprocated when she gulps down your load quickly, professionally. As soon as you are done pouring into Jimin she stands up, showing you her clean tongue with a tilt of her head, and heads to the bathroom. You, left alone, giggle quietly and sprawl on the bed after putting on underwear.
******
“Text me at lunch break. You know where to meet me.” You just nod at Jimin, who’s in one of your T-shirts that is just a little bit big for her; loss of all the buttons on her uniform comes at a cost. An inner beam blooms under your face when you find her just too perfect in that outfit of school skirt with your T-shirt tucked under it. Those unhidden bra lines count as one of many reasons for you to stare at her, take her in your arms right now and-
“Not now, perv.” Her smirk lets yours surface up to reciprocate hers. You stand up from the bed, approach her and walk her backwards to the wall. Jimin has been playful and relaxed with you and you like it. But when you—just like right now—detect submission in her eyes: you love it. You don’t stop your hand from rising up for her neck and have a good grip around it. You don’t stop the other from being pulled away to her gracious tits and squeezing them.
“Not now?” And there are those big eyes begging for you to go further, that bitten lower lip asking for any contact, as if the one who just quipped ‘not now’ choked out. Always hits you differently when she just switches from a brat to a subby mess out of control.
Contradiction is the most normal of things when you have a tight grip over Jimin. Her reddening face gradually forms a thin smirk when your lips close in to hers. Her eyes close, lips part for a mind-numbing kiss—
“Not now.” You make a sudden pull back and release Jimin from your grip. She stumbles and almost collapses on the floor so you hold her in your arms. For the same purpose and then some, her arms rest on your shoulders and pull you in, only to be denied by your hand pushing her chest off of you, leaving Jimin just keeping a hungry gaze at your lips and whimpering “Please.”
You finish tying the necktie, bring your thumb up to her lips. As it sweeps over them Jimin lets her tongue coat your thumb with her saliva which could’ve blended perfectly with yours.
“To the spot at lunch break, Jimin. And ah,” You stand down and pull her panties down in one sway and she helps herself out of them by lifting her legs respectively. You toss it on the bed and rise up again, for your collarbone to match her height, for her to look up at you again.
“You don’t wear the same panties for two days straight, do you?” Jimin just nods quickly and tries to crush her lips on yours yet again. Seems like she wouldn’t care even if you made her go to school all nude, if she could just mix her tongue with yours right now. Her efforts to make you kiss her is visible to you; eyes so seductive yet not able to take themselves off of their foremost target, lips slightly open for her tongue to peek outside. Seeing that you just step back and prepare to leave for school with an unseen smirk.
“Let’s go.”
******
As anticipated, needy and untidy Yoo Jimin sends you a dozen pictures of her bare crotch under her skirt, saying ‘Want your fingers inside’, ‘Can’t wait for the lunch break.’ Those are to be left on read.
Morning classes fly by as the bell rings to announce the lunch break. The class rushes out for lunch, has a race among them with some of them even running like they have something to win. And amongst that crowd you head to the spot, to Yoo Jimin.
She’s there already waiting for you when you turn the last corner. Legs crossed, back on the brick wall and a half-spent cigarette between her lips, looking so delinquent there with that insanely short skirt and in the shirt you gave. She notices you, has a reet smile on her and throws the cigarette on the ground, and watches you approach her standing still. No immaterial words or acts are needed when you can just kiss those lips like they’re yours. The remnant of the cigarette a fume that makes you dive deeper into this trance her tongue and yours are building, you spontaneously get rid of her skirt and are met with the wet skin under it.
Your fingers taste her crotch, slowly rubbing around and poised for any further indulgence. Her hands are, on the other hand, hectic with your buttons and when they’re done they swiftly go down to your belt. Your pants drop to your ankles in no time with your underwear, and with your erect cock emancipated, Jimin detaches from the kiss and spits on your cock and spreads it.
It all happens so fast that you are still enraptured by the kiss and her tits in your palms, leaving so many treats unfelt to your body. The next second you are inside her, making it even headier for you to follow up.
“Fuck, I needed this.” Jimin grits. With no clue of downshifting she takes the shirt off, her bra to follow suit, and hooks her arms around your neck to stand the frantic sex she wants from you. And that happens right away, as your instinct drops the hammer for you to automatically thrust into her even before you find yourself moaning at the sensation of her inside.
You keep your eyes closed while wrecking her pussy despite the eye candy that is Yoo Jimin during sex, and suddenly you notice her teeth on your shoulder. It’s a pain that can make you grin, that can make you savor the feeling, even it gets even stronger, because now you know that when she bites, she cums. Her legs give in, and you know it by the weight of her arms around your neck. Her walls clench harshly and there’s a stream of her juice down your legs when she cums. Yoo Jimin is so tactile, and when she cums her whole body does, for yours to recognize, you don’t even have to hearken to know it. The auditory input hits your brain the last, the pearly, shaky yelp of the orgasming needy girl adds up to all the stimuli you are taking.
When she comes down you slow down, lazily reaching her cervix as she hums at it every time.
“Kiss me, baby.” You do. It’s saccharine to your tongue. Her tongue distraughtly moves around inside your mouth, some of the drool leaking onto her tits to make it even more impeccable. The gustation mesmerizes you into a rabid sex, this time for yourself to get off. No subduing, only upshifts lead the way as you turn her around, put it back in and lavish thrusts into her sex.
“Shit. Jimin, you’re so fucking perfect.” You’re not saying this again because she might not have heard it; you are repeating it like a low-functioning machine because you’re afraid you haven’t said it enough. And she can condone it—of course she can, it’s a compliment anyway—because she knows it already, because the feeling’s mutual. You say it several more times on the back of her neck, almost making it a tattoo, carving it in intaglio. Still deranged, Jimin is just screaming with her back arching to the sky and carotically facing the brick wall with her left cheek. The right side of her face is rosed up, and her eye has a glimpse of you, your wry face and the sweat-coated torso and shuts and she cums just like that.
Her breaths are shallow, irregular, a gusty fluid squelches out of her pussy and the scene of her orgasm is intimidating your endurance, easily sending you to an orgasmic stupor and making you spurt out inside her with a gritted groan.
“Jimin, I… God, fuck…!” To your overstimulated cock Jimin has her shrewd tongue on it, sealed with her lips. Makes your legs wobble, unmercifully agitating your mind with frenzy, but just until she clears your shaft up clean from the tabloid juices all over it.
“I loved it. Maybe we should make it daily.” Jimin rises up, with her skirt and your shirt in her hands and still breathing somewhat heavily. And the desecrated smile on her face is the coercion for you to wear one too, a copacetic one. Shirt on, a smoking cigarette between your fingers, you insinuate to her.
“Your panties are still on my bed, you know.” And she’s shrewd with it—has been from the very beginning—and purrs. “Mhmm, I’m going to go fetch it after school with you.”
Of course, is what your nods that follows says, and there’s my girl, says your zest-filled grin, looking at her back that walks out of the corner. It’s always that intrinsic sass you could simply, so simply kill for. Maybe a challenge for you, maybe a finesse for you to be benumbly trapped into. It’s your choice, and from some point on the latter looks dazzling to you; maybe you’re a person who just dyes so well, to a derogated girl who seemed to have taken everything you’ve given but turns out she just put you in the phantasma of her own stardust without you realizing it—you’ve lost it in her, somehow. And that’s bizarre: and you love it.
******
You’re standing at the bus stop, hands in your pocket and looking around to find your girl. When you do, you’re so surprised at how Jimin so stands out among all the crowd while doing nothing but just walk. Even from miles out you’re sure you’ll spot her in a second. The belle of the crowd, wherever she is. She’s not the tallest but still piques herself on her to-die-for aura like she blurs everyone out. As if she sensed the scrutiny, Jimin looks up from her phone, looks around and soon finds you looking at her. You hate to be seen so infatuated like this but you can’t help it, as your eyes meet hers and your face brightens up, half from seeing her and half at yourself caught like that.
“That happy to see me?” You don’t answer, just bring your hands to her crotch and check there’s no underwear blocking your way. A flick over her uncovered pussy earns you a shocked look.
“This is not your bedroom!” Jimin shouts in whisper, but not with caution, but an intrigued grin with eyes darting around the crowd waiting for the bus.
“Are you telling me to stop?” You take your fingers to her mouth, her tongue welcoming the taste of horniness coated all over your fingers. “I’m telling you not to stop.”
So your hand returns to her pussy. You’re rubbing, tapping on and hooking your fingers in, Jimin bites on her own fingers not to relinquish her scream. You hold her trembling body as steady as possible but you know that it’ll be absolutely normal if the people around you realize that you two are having a little fun explicitly in public. Everyone’s looking at you and Jimin in front of you, facing the same way as you and receiving that dirty fingering amongst so many audiences.
In a few minutes the bus is here, to show you only one vacant seat left. You take the seat and Jimin sits on your lap, facing backwards and hugging your neck. You resume the unholy yet entertaining fingering to the pretty moaning girl on your lap.
And you return to who you really are: you’re a gentleman yourself, with etiquette, with common decency, to pull Jimin’s head down on your shoulder to muffle her nasty sound on it. You know even the driver is looking at you through the mirror, but that’s because of her, not you; again, you’re making no noise, and Jimin in your embrace is the culprit of all the squeaky, watery, moaning noise, not you.
“Quiet, Jimin.” Now her teeth dig into your skin, synchronizing with your fingers indulging into her wet, tight hole. You know what you’re doing won’t shut her up. You’re just saying it, a formality. Inside your mind you want her to moan loudly, at the same time want to see her struggle keeping it quiet. So you yank her hair back to watch her distorted face, observe every tiny wriggle of her expression.
“Ah…!” Look into her eyes as if wanting to pierce through them. Jimin looks at you too, flooding with lust, drowning in her own sensations of sex and embarrassment of being exposed in such a public situation. “I’m almost there.” It’s a plain text but she’s begging there. She says she’s almost there but she’s already there, as it seems.
“Yeah, we’re almost there.” A bump on the road makes your fingers hit her spot, makes her back arc, makes her almost, almost lose it right there. You pull out your fingers from her hot cavern to the relatively cool air of the bus. Her liquid feels fresh out in the air but that feeling is soon lost, by her tongue wrapping them up and sucking it clean—suckling it dirty.
The bus stops right then for only you and Jimin to get off. It’s much quieter than inside the bus, partially due to you not fingerfucking her anymore. In no time you’re at the door of your house, unlock it, swing open and it slams shut. Simultaneously Jimin hops on you and dive into your mouth with hers. You stumble through to your bedroom, toss her on the bed, swiftly undo your belt and pants with your boxers, let your already hard dick spring out but don't let it feel the air as it vanishes into Jimin’s waiting pussy right away.
No one speaks a word. No one can, to be fair. You two are merely inches away from dying, too impatient to wait another second. And there you let Jimin approach death a bit closer by holding her neck around, a perfect necklace for her, and straining your hand. Jimin’s mouth is open, difficulty in breathing so visible, face reddening but there’s still her hunger in it; she grins. Her smile is so cruel, violent, so evil yet joyful, as if she’s the victimizer and you’re the victim.
“Please, baby… Kill me. Fucking choke me to death, please, choke me and kill me-fuck!” You make her scream when you slap her tits, as if you were angry at her, but you’re the opposite—you love her so much that you just want to abuse her, to her liking, just like right now. All her sensations seem to evaporate as her eyes roll back and her hands drop to her sides spiritlessly: or, airlessly. You let her go, not wanting to actually kill her.
With a giant inhale Jimin returns from the border of unconsciousness. Her hands travel from her own tits, your hands, and soon back to the sheets, still wandering in need for anything to release the tension. So you pin down her wrists and pace up your thrusts.
“Fuck, Jimin. Don’t tempt me. You make me really want to fuck you dead.” You’re saying it right on her face, which enables her to feel that you mean it. There she tries to kiss your lips, but you pull back with agility, instead covering her mouth and nose with your palm, again suffocating her to your liking, to your loving, to your abnormal, psychopathic obsession.
“I want to see you struggle for life. I want to see you beg for life. You’ll look so perfect like that.” Jimin screams into your hand, covers it with her saliva and tears. You close in with your other hand groping her tit and your cock hitting everywhere inside her squeezing cunt. Jimin’s eyes widen as her orgasm fades in, muffling “I’m cumming!” Several times on your palm before peaking like never before. Her orgasm never gives her the time to even shut her eyes as they roll into her head. Her scream penetrates your hand over her mouth as it departs on your ears so deliciously.
That’s what psychopaths do, isn’t it? To experience the catharsis washing over your spine and get off with how a person screams, all helpless, with tears, shallow breaths as if soon going to die, or at least pass out. Maybe it’s that she’s making it clear about who you are. Would be a pleasure to embrace it.
And it’s your turn now. You pull out, escaping Jimin’s spent pussy with quite an amount of her squirt, leaving her all trembling and arching. There’s a layer of sweat all over her body and it makes it look like a scene from any pornography. Jimin doesn’t move a bit-only her chest is heavily healing up and down, even after you flip her upside down.
You tease her asshole with your middle finger and when she senses it enter she helps you by spreading her cheeks for deeper insertion. No resistance in and out of her ass. Every curl inside her ass makes Jimin squeeze her own cheeks as a response with a powerless moan. “Mmm, fuck me please… I’m not done yet.” Of course. You grin and prepare your cock for the second entrance as you pull Jimin up on all fours. Her arms give up when you rub your glistening cock on her pussy lips. And her reason gives up when you penetrate her rear hole.
“Ahh-fuck yes!”
“Holy fuck. This is so tight.” Her tightness erases your patience to savor it slowly. You start ruining her ass with the intention of actually destroying it. Jimin frowns, loud moan seeping through the bitten lip, hands curling into fists but arms all powerless on her sides.
“It’s so good, it’s so fucking good…! Don’t stop it baby. Make me cum like a fucking whore…!” Her voice can’t even get louder when her words just melt on the mattress just like her. Her words turn to nothings, eyes squeeze shut, concentrating all her senses to where she’s getting fucked. You feel your eyelids become heavier every single thrust, but the visual pleasure is just too good to give up watching it-her ass up for you to fuck it senseless, narrow waist contrasting her wide hips so aesthetically. The cherry on top is the expressions on her gorgeous face which you can’t quite read. Just like when all colors mixed makes pitch-black, her facial wrinkles and twitches are the perfect mixture of all pleasure, ecstasy that you can’t tell what she’s feeling at this moment.
“Nngh!” Actually, you can. Jimin is orgasming so hard, clear—dirty—liquid pumping out of her empty pussy to flood the mattress. Her ass squeezes your cock too hard for you to move in and out as fast as before without blasting every drop in her climaxing ass hole.
So you park it deep in her contracting hole, stay there, and shut Jimin’s moaning mouth with yours. She doesn’t care—or she doesn't acknowledge—and keeps screaming for her life even after her peak has washed over. A few dozen seconds pass, she calms down to at least breathe regularly when you stand your torso up to resume the session.
“You… You have to cum…” As if she even cares for you instead of her own pleasure. You know she just wants more overwhelming orgasm only you can deliver, and you are no different. There’s something about this body, these tits, the voice, this face, this pussy, this ass; there really is something about Yoo Jimin. Without your knowledge you are humping her like a villain, mad, but with a grin that’s so dangerous that Jimin mirrors. Your hand already made itself home around her neck, a red mark of it pressing hard inevitable, tears rolling down along her side face.
“I’m going to fill you up, Jimin.” And with a sharp inhale you begin wrecking her inside. A gut-rearranging pounding is what her perfect ass deserves and she can’t even open her eyes properly-either one stays closed against her will, rolling up to see that there’s nothing inside her head.
“Fuck! Please, please, please, please… Gah, I’m- Again…!” How impatient. There’s not even a point for you to call a flaw. Immoral, impatient, vulgar, dirty… She’s all too perfect. And you’re sure that’s why you cum so hard, like never before.
A nasty pair of voices fill each other’s brain as you two cum. You lower your body, forehead on hers and eyes on hers, looking through those teary orbs as you feel yourself bursting out gregariously. No words but loud pants bridge your sensations to each other, and until the last spurt you don’t even blink in order to see Jimin go through her own orgasm.
That’s it; it’s been your undesirable sadistic desire that kept you on fire, and when you have saturated it it flips out of your head, making it empty—there hasn’t been anything other than that. When you’re done completely you let Jimin go from your glare, sit on the edge next to her gasping body. Your urge is swept off so cleanly, and you can see how dirty it was by the mess on your bed.
“Are you alright?” You ask, but looking up at the ceiling, not Jimin. You don’t turn your head but can already sense her looking at you. “You’re just so perfect.” Selfishly she doesn’t answer. And you hear the smirk in her words. You make one on your face too, hearing that, stand up, face her and find Jimin overloading your vision with how she gorgeously lies down there, making even all the nasty things complement her perfection.
“I’ll shower. Just don’t fall asleep on the bed. It’s dirty.” You tell Jimin, all helpless and powerless on the bed and panting like she just had the best sex in her life. The lustful girl who was begging for you to kill her is nowhere to be found; instead there’s a weak, short of breath, vulnerable and lithe angelic devil with your cum gushing out of her ass. As if a few more touches and she’d actually evaporate.
In the shower you barely feel the water on your body, so distracted by your own thoughts—your own thoughts but in the grabs of Yu Jimin. The exact same as yesterday, you are showering yourself with your shocked, strange feelings in the shower after sex that simply blew your mind.
It's just that she's too good. Too good to call it a hook-up, too good to make it only an occasional sex. The way she craves your cock, the way she begs for your violence, the way she’s so desperate for extreme orgasms under your hold. It’s the first time for you to smile just by thinking of a girl, especially when you’re such a harsh and rough type of a person even you’d admit. She’d let you hit her. She’d let you choke her, let you fuck her, destroy her—let you love her.
Then the door opens, a small, pale figure of female comes in, walks slowly through the mist of the hot water. Jimin stops in front of you, legs barely holding there, face buried on your chest and her arms locked around your neck to support her lithe body but they barely do. You move a little backward to let her more of the hot water.
As if all the water got into your veins, you feel your heart burn. Just look at her—legs all wobbly, barely standing, too exhausted to even look up at you, her hands at the back of your neck irregularly stroking the back of your head as if signaling she’s at least perceiving things properly. You put a hand on her back and spread the water on it, and that’s when she lifts her head and meets your eyes.
Weak and lethargic like a candlelight in front of a tsunami, Jimin is barely standing there with low moans whenever her legs wobble and give up. Her arms tighten around your neck as one of yours hug her back so that she doesn’t collapse. Her face is right beneath yours, tilted up to face yours. Those eyes can’t avoid looking at your lips, which is just what you’re doing to her unashamedly.
Your hand climbs up to the back of her head. Regardless of that you and Jimin are exchanging such a strong yet soft, intense yet loving eyelock. It is an atypically genial moment and if you look back at this moment you might throttle yourself. She should know it by now, from the visible, audible changes on you.
(Maybe you were afraid. Or beyond that. Love was what your fears were afraid of. Doesn’t quite make sense to say that you have fears, but anyways, you didn’t want, nor expect a couple nights to escalate to an actual romance.)
Minutes pass, and pass, and—and pause, when you pull her a bit into your arms and make a soundless, yet seismic kiss. Lips lock. Two pairs of lips open and a pair of tongues make contact, hug each other just like you two. Her hands snake into your hair, your head in her hands and deeper into the kiss. You two have even forgotten to breathe as the liplock continues for what feels like a lifetime, to complete the kiss of your life. When you try to pull back Jimin lunges a bit forward not to break the kiss, and you let your system suffocate a few dozen seconds more.
“You’re so beautiful, Yu Jimin.” You finally tell her this. Not the literal confession of love but she gets it with the bewitching smile she always wears like nothing. Never been in love, you feel like you’re sent back to childhood, pure and intact, but that feeling is shattered into pieces when her hand finds your hardened cock poking at her belly.“Is that why you’re so hard, baby?” This time, the word ‘baby’ sounds so right with a lip bite of your lover and with a lust-filled grin on you. Her thumb slides on the underside of the tip, almost making you stumble back.
“Yes. Just like you’re always horny because of me.” With a smirk you turn her around, bend her over so that her hands are on the wall, and put your cock in in one stroke. Jimin helplessly loses all the strength in her legs and falls but you're prudential enough not to let her. It's to the point where she's just hanging from your arms when you kindle the movement. Her skin looks even more satin with the water so you collar her and go on. You can't stop when the biggest impetus is jonesing for it. No choice but to harden the grip on her throat.
Jimin is flaccid on the wall, fingers fumbling on and desperately digging themselves on it with her head facing down. You are never going to unbind her until she falls into a stupor. “Baby I… I fucking love it so deep…! Use me just like that…” She can't let it out loud and soon loses all voice, raises her head, brings yours right beside hers and kisses you. And a feeling that this is the requital for your disclosure makes it compulsory to reciprocate it poignantly. Her hand guides one of yours to her tits, pushes it hard on it to make you squeeze them and soon the convulsions agitate through her body. Her orgasmic screams reverberate through your throat, which is also moaning out of the pleasure congesting your mind.
When the kiss breaks her yelps stifle the smacking and squelching. You have no idea if it’s your heartiness or just overstimulation from before the shower, but her voice sounds so giddy she might just hit the floor all limp. The burgeoning pleasure conglomerates into a derogated vertigo, the unbearable sensations stack up in your spines and Jimin’s wringing walls really doesn’t help you push it down. Her eyes tell you—because her mouth can’t right now—she’s only a couple thrusts away from coming undone, tantamount to what’s threatening to blow your mind, break down your nerves.
“I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m fucking coming…!” A tautology that is so understandable. You help her, add to the pleasure by choking her. Her moans permeate to your hand through her throat and the foul secretion of her orgasm flows down her legs with the water pelting down on your bodies. Jimin fumbles on the wall with her fingers, too herring-gutted to digest the deray.
“Jimin. Yu Jimin. I’m coming too-fuck…!” When Jimin hears her name she hums, and when she feels the warmth coat her walls she buckles, arches her back to beckon your lips and jockeys her tongue between them. In less than a minute however she pulls back, due to lack of air, because of your chokehold, and pants in your face, with a pejorative smile, but no sign of mannerism—you all know, that smile that follows after an exquisite sex—her sheer feelings carved in it, and you willingly mirror it as a beck of mutuality.
******
A rather huge thing is settled. Sitting on the edge of the bed together, with a cigarette between your fingers for each, you recount your history: the reason you moved, your personality, your sex life being like this. All of them, however, converge to her, Yu Jimin, weirdly enough for you who just can’t concede any feelings involved, which sounds like a monolithic psychopath which actually might be who you are.
Well, a little bit of romance couldn’t kill, could it? You think, lying next to Jimin and slowly closing your eyes to fall-
“You haven’t said it yet.”
“Say what?”
“You only said I’m beautiful.”
“And?”
“I know there’s something more. You know there’s something more.”
There you fail to hold out the chuckle.
“I don’t know what you’re-“
“It’s okay, baby. You don’t have to be shy about it,”
Jimin mischievously giggles. You know you can’t just laugh it off, and you won’t. That intricate feeling that tickles, but is not transient.
With a somnolent voice, you placidly say, like a tagline of a tragedy—or a comedy.
“Love you, Jimin.”
Her grin infiltrates her words hearing it.
“That’s it, my boy. Love you too.”
******
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Bakugou Katsuki dating a hyper feminine fem!reader
(who is also the human embodiment of Barbie)
Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x hyper-feminine!fem!freader
Warnings: fluff, maybe ooc bakugou? idk, the pictures at the top DO NOT indicate how the reader looks, reader is a Barbie dolls collector idk if that should be a warning I’m not good at this, there is nothing specific body type, hair texture or skin color described
Note: Since I watched the Barbie movie I have been OBSESSED with it and hyper-fixated on it, so this idea came to my mind. I am not good at writing/writing headcanons so if it's bad please don't mind it. But do let me know what I can do better in the future.
Hyper and girly gf x grumpy and anger issues bf
Or la la la and ok ok ok
That’s literally you two
Dating someone who is hyperfeminine and is literally the human embodiment of Barbie would be an interesting dynamic for Bakugou
But yknow the saying ‘opposite attracts’
First time meeting you Bakugou would be utterly baffled at first by your pink-themed wardrobe, sparkly accessories, and bubbly personality; it would be completely alien to him.
At first, he might find you overly cheerful and appearance-focused. However, over time, he would begin to appreciate your confidence, bubbly personality, and unique traits (and also your odd obsession with collecting Barbies)
He might even secretly enjoy your knack for fashion and makeup although he will never understand your obsession with the color pink
OCCASIONALLY might let you do makeup on him bc he loves you too much to say no to you
Glaring at his reflection in the hand mirror with pink eyeshadow on his eyelid “I look ridiculous.”
but will literally threaten you if you tell someone what he doesn’t know is that you secretly took a picture of him with the pink and glittery makeup
Bakugou often reluctantly let himself get dragged by you to go shopping INSISTING on holding all your bags for you walking with you like an intimidating guard dog
Yknow that tik tok trend where a girl has night walking privilege and then they show their intimidating boyfriend walking with them? Yeah that’s you guys anywhere y’all go
Will glare and almost physically get ready to fight someone if they look at you oddly or comment on your appearance
The outfit contrast is COMEDIC between you two when you guys go out
Bc like you are all pink, bows, frills, sparkle, gems, and smiley
While he is all black, in large jackets, combat boots, hunched over shoulders, and a scowl on his face
Yall definitely get looks and double check by people
He will definitely give you self-defense lessons bc even though he is always there to protect you he needs to know if there is a situation where he can’t be there to protect you which is NOT often you can defend yourself
“If I’m not there to beat up some shitty idiot, at least you can kick some ass.”
“But I thought you would always be there to be my knight in shining armor.” you would say teasingly
Gets dizzy every time he sees your closet he's dramatic bc it’s all shades of pink, glitters, frills, and sparkles
Pointing at your high heels; “How the hell do you walk around in those death traps??”
Bakugou ALWAYS remembers every little thing about you
Like your favorite food, flower, color that is really obvious or snacks, he even remembers your favorite Barbie from your huge Barbie collection
Bakugou would struggle to express his feelings in words, but his actions would speak volumes he will go out of his way to ensure your comfort and safety, and his subtle ways of affection always make your heart flutter
Surprises you with an intimate candle-light dinner with a big bouquet of pink roses
“Don’t get used to this mushy crap, okay?” he would mutter with a small smile
And you would pinch his cheeks “Who knew you were so cheesy Katsu.”
And you appreciate his ways of showing affection
Bakugou once surprised you with a limited-edition Barbie that you had been wanting for a while and you cried
Y'all's dates might involve a mix of Bakugou’s preferred activities and your interests/ideas
So it’s a different type of date every time and each of them more fun and sweet than the last
Bakugou uses a few different pet names to call you by:
Doll/Dollface: Bakugou, at first, used the nickname with a hint of sarcasm but it evolves into an endearing term
Barbie: While this pet name seems like an obvious choice, Bakugou playfully uses it to acknowledge your resemblance to the iconic doll
Babe: A more casual and common term
Sunshine: He uses this term to acknowledge your bright and positive personality, even if he’d never admit that you have a positive influence on his mood
Princess: Bakugou might reluctantly use this pet name when he is feeling particularly soft towards you, even if he’d never say it out loud in public might let it slip once or twice
When you heard about the Barbie movie coming out you were SO EXCITED
Talking Bakugou’s ear off about the film and begging him to come with you
He is too whipped and can never say no to you so of course he is coming with you
You already had your outfit and makeup picked out for the film and also chose a Ken outfit for Bakugou fucking imagine him in the mojo dojo casa house Ken outfit with the fur coat SKSJSKJSJ which he hesitantly wore just to make you happy
He was definitely not enjoying himself by being your Ken no definitely not
He also bought you the Margot Robbie Barbie as a gift to surprise you and you swore you fell even more for the ruby eyed man in front of you
So in conclusion Bakugou loves you a lot and will do anything for you no matter what it is or how ridiculous it is
Note: gifs, pictures, and header DOES NOT belong to me. CREDITS TO THE RIGHTFUL OWNERS!! Feedback is appreciated.
#bakugo katuski#bakugou katsuki#bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugou x y/n#bakugou x you#bakugou fluff#katsuki x y/n#katsuki x you#katsuki fluff#bakugou katsuki x y/n#bakugou katsuki x you#bakugou katsuki fluff#katsuki bakugou x y/n#katsuki bakugou x you#katsuki bakugou fluff#bnha bakugou#mha bakugou#katsuki bakugo mha#katsuki bakugou bnha#hyper feminine!reader#barbie!reader#barbie#barbie the movie#bakugou katsuki x female reader#bakugou x fem!reader#bakugou x female reader#bakugou katsuki x fem!reader
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Sorry I just have to say something really quick:
I don’t understand like how or why Sephiroth is so attractive. Like is it the combination of really feminine and really masculine features?? Because his hair and face are as pretty as they get, but yet you can still tell just from his face that he’s a guy. And then to contrast the prettiness he’s built like a brick house and also a 6’8 giant. Like????? The contrast is sooo on point.
Thanks for coming to my Ted talk. Had to get that off my chest because no one I know irl has even heard of FF7 let alone know who I’m talking about. My friends just know Sephiroth and FF7 from me because I sometimes rant about it but they somehow don’t find him attractive 😭
Sephiroth's appearance is really hard to pinpoint, because he's got an androgynous face but a very masculine body, and then there's his hair which some might argue is very feminine. He's this blend that you can fittingly describe as "alien"
His design combined with his character makes me think of how Angels/God/The Devil are also portrayed as androgynous across media, and that makes dissecting why he looks the way he does way more fun lol.
They did make him extra gorgeous in Rebirth though 😍
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Hi there I would like to say I’m interested in the deadpool homophobia rant
hi there! many thanks to you
so the "deadpool homophobia rant" is... a little complicated. I'll try to keep it short because God knows I talk about Wade too much as it is on this hellsite. the point, before we go into literally any detail, is that the writing surrounding deadpool's sexuality is deeply problematic, both in its representation and its consequences in-narrative to him as a person, but I'll try to just focus on the facts.
we all know that deadpool is omni/pan, right? wrong. well, not wrong. just not... quite as solidly canon as we'd like. this is the only reference the actual word gets in canon:
this is from the posehn & duggan 2012 run (my beloved), although don't ask me to hunt down the specific issue, please, that sounds like a nightmare. suffice it to say that it's from the letter section at the end of one of the issues and that it's the only time I can find the actual word referenced anywhere with regards to our boy. you may remember that it was confirmed at some point - yeah, in a since deleted tweet. despite being attracted to anything from aliens to death herself, wade is not allowed to go past plausible deniability when it comes to heterosexuality.
that doesn't mean that wade doesn't express attraction to men, because he does, and often.
(from deadpool team up #887)
(from an early issue of spider-man/deadpool. 2, I think. maybe 3)
(from the daniel way 2008 run, again, don't make me dig up an issue please, but it's the one where he teams up with spider-man to defeat hit-monkey)
(there's also a few panels floating around online where he expresses attraction to cable but I don't have those saved on my laptop. I remember seeing one where wade fantasizes about rubbing sun screen on cable's back? but again, do not have those saved.)
anyway, the point is, wade absolutely gets to express attraction to men, and constantly. but only at his own expense. only when the joke will land. only when he gets to immediately say "no homo". only because he's already quirky and weird and insane, so of course he's also attracted to men, he's not all there, after all.
I'll try not to let this cross over to a connected but wholly separate rant about the ableism in his writing, but it's all connected, at the end of the day.
and it would be one thing if deadpool wasn't a relationship guy. but, although he's absolutely terrible at it, deadpool makes stab after stab at monogamy - always with women. he's a sleezeball, really. constantly asking women out, super and non-super, whether they're in any way interested or not. posehn & duggan pull back from this a little, and instead have him get married to shiklah, in a special issue dedicated to "every time deadpool has gotten married" (or at least thought he did). they got a bunch of previous deadpool writers and artists to contribue to the issue. somehow every single marriage was to a woman, even if she was literally an alien. bc deadpool's attraction to a woman is a tragedy, but at least it's a story; wade's attraction to a man is a joke. his one "relationship" with a man is with madcap, who abuses him from inside his head. they call it "falling in love":
(from deadpool annual #1, from uh... 2013? 2014?)
... but madcap's nothing but horrifically abusive towards wade when they're "together" (as in fused together with madcap playing the role of "white box") and the first arc in the 2015 duggan run is madcap deliberately fucking up deadpool's life because he won't take him back. not exactly a positive canon relationship. shiklah treats wade better.
deadpool also likes to dress in a typical feminine or gay coded fashion, and it's constantly questioned or made fun of by the people around him:
(from the deadpool musical issue)
(I actually had to google this one, I don't know where it's from for sure but it's pre-2012 (cause... boxes) and I'm pretty sure it's from cable & deadpool. no idea beyond that what issue or anything)
we see a constant, then, of deadpool expressing attraction to men and his gnc presentation, and yet the narrative never respects him for it. it plays it for laughs, plays the plausible deniability card, and despite wade himself seemingly being comfortable with his sexuality it is never presented as a good thing or even a neutral thing. deadpool's sexuality shines through despite what seems to be the writers actively fighting against it. and it doesn't have to be this way. nobody made them write him as pan in the first place, although, yes, I'd be sad if he wasn't, and more importantly, nobody made anyone write his pansexuality like this. it's in the movies too, to a lesser extent. it's frustrating and exhausting and it's deeply homophobic.
I love wade. he deserves better.
#wade wilson#deadpool#dp#marvel#marvel comics#spiderman#cable#homophobia#homophobic writing#queer#pansexual#ask#anonymous
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I had such a beautiful conversation this weekend about not feeling queer enough.
I grew up marked out by others— interestingly both by many straight and many gay (men, in the latter case) — as “not straight,” and so therefore I was a gay boy in waiting. (Of course because I’m a child of the 1990s, bisexuality of course didn’t exist, trans people weren’t invented yet, etcetera, etcetera.)
What was hard for me then, and still often is now, is that my primary attraction is so deeply oriented toward the feminine. I feel so incredibly grateful for living in the time that I do at least for there being such a widespread recognition of gender diversity — this was what really enabled me to come into my queerness fully and only relatively recently. I also feel this for myself as someone who navigates a body that’s always felt somewhat alien to me, and as someone who is now privileged to see a whole range of genders that I feel attraction to beyond the binary. But so many of these gender expressions remain rooted in an explicitly femme presentation and so, dogged by my own latent cisnormativity, I sometimes feel guilty that I am not more drawn to more masculine presentations in the world.
Luckily I am on enough queer community that this weekend I was sharing this with folks who were expressing similar feelings. What surprises me was my anchor partner saying much the same thing: that she wishes she were “gayer,” even while she actively sleeps with and dates women. Though she’s more sexually active in her queerness than I am, my love of femmes (AFAB or otherwise) is more or less foreign to her.
It’s fascinating and in a strange way heartening to share something like that. Somehow it gives me hope I’ll figure out what this means to me someday.
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Very confused, advice would be appreciated :’3 Long post
Hey there, I'm an 24 afab non-binary asexual who just discovered they were demiromantic. I just had bilateral mastectomy, i'm at about 8 weeks recovery. I am chronically ill and this illness has stopped my education and ability to work. I feel like I have wasted half my life and feel less real compared to my friends who are all around 20-22 years old at uni living their lives and progressing while i'm stuck in painful limbo.
My online friend from the discord friend group i'm in just came to the uk to meet up with us and I developed a huge crush on him. I find him aesthetically attractive and I felt like I wanted to be close to him and cuddle/kiss him which has only happened once before, to another online friend, and to a much lesser degree. I felt like I wanted to be attractive to him so that he would like me back. But, he is a straight 20 y/o M and my internalised acephobia said he'd never want to be with me in a sexless relationship. (My first and only relationship so far was with a high libido individual and they put constant pressure to have sex on me when we were together.) And then my internalised transphobia and body shaming came into the picture telling me he'd never find me attractive now my only appeal has gone, my D cup breasts.
Before, when I thought I was aro/ace (for the last 6 or so years), I stopped caring about my appearance and the thought of being sexually attractive to randos repulsed me. So I was completely fine and happy with my surgery, and I still am for myself I think (I don’t feel a profound sense of loss or anything), but this experience of romantic attraction has these self hating thoughts are swirling around my head now.
Society’s standards for beauty don’t last. I feel so superficial caring about this now after years of ignoring my body completely and having bilateral mastectomy I’ve wanted for 6+ years. I've never performed femininity before, wearing makeup, doing my hair, trying to be pretty and appealing etc. But these feelings of wanting to be attractive to this guy have got me questioning if my gender isn't more feminine. Maybe I should have just had a breast reduction. Idk anymore.
I went through a period of time thinking that because I didn't feel very feminine, dressing up for prom felt like putting drag on, that I must be FTM trans, so I did try going on testosterone for a while. But doing that made me realise I didn't want to be male, or that masculine. Maybe my bad self image was contributing to the feeling that trying to perform femininity was a mask. I don’t regret trying T because it helped me explore my gender more. I'm going to try and see if performing femininty makes me feel any different. I just have no idea how to being with make-up and stuff.
He was only there for four days, and I was only there for three of those. On the third day I confessed my feelings to him. He said a relationship wouldn't be a possibility due to logistical reasons and that he wasn't up for a long distance relationship. I asked if my being non-binary had any bearing on the rejection but he said no, actually. He also said he didn't have the mental capacity at the moment for a relationship. I thought he might be trying to spare my feelings but I haven't known him to do that, he's very honest usually. He said he was glad I was comfortable enough with him to tell him and that it hasn't ruined our friendship (I had said that i hope that it hasn't so this was in response to that).
So now I have all these feelings I don't know what to do with. I've had extremely low self esteem since I was a child, I hated myself for being different than everyone else. (I had undiagnosed autism until I was 18 and the symptoms made me feel like an alien trying to blend in with humans, and I still feel that way just slightly less i suppose) I feel like I'm not good enough for him, or anyone. I feel hideously ugly but I would never call anyone else that. I feel like i'm aging too fast and my life is slipping by and my illness has wasted more than half of it.
I know he'd going to find a lovely young lady who actually lives in his country who isn't asexual and can make him happy and it feels like metaphorical daggers to my heart thinking about it.
If you've made it this far thank you. I live in a smallish town and i've only met one lgbt person, that I know of, here. I don't have any lgbtqa friends to talk to so I was hoping to get some advice on how to deal with these feelings here, or if any of you have experienced anything similar. I thought I had my gender and sexuality figured out but turns out it’s a bigger mess than I thought.
#hixspeaks#non-sims#copying this from my reddit post#i just need advice and am trying to think this through#i'm so bloody gender confused#my my asexuality has impacted my body image more than i tought#thought*#i wish I had considered reduction but I was so sure I hated them#and wanted them off completely#i thought no one could love me anyway and the chance of me finding someone who wouldn't want sex felt minute#why am i the way that i am
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An overly long tumblr ramble about funny armoured sci fi protagonists because I feel like writing this right now:
The character type of armoured sci fi protagonist who barely speaks(mostly) and simultaneously mows downs hordes of aliens(most of the time) is one of my favourite type of character next to traumatised homosexuals so here are some of my thoughts and head cannons regarding some examples of them:
Part 1 Samus aran:
Samus Aran (Metroid): one of my favourite protagonists in any game ever the perfect silent protagonist in my opinion. Gaming’s og girlboss while every other female gaming character in the 80s was stereotypically feminine samus was a complete badass although I’m using hyperbole as this was in the original Metroid the frustrating glitchy (While yes wildly influential for its time) duck tape held together mess it is. Although the series would transform after one other game that hasn’t aged that well then create super Metroid one of the greatest games of all time created the Metroidvania genre and was so influential that…..
I have gotten massively off topic. This was originally about my thoughts about her one thing I love to think about is what samus is like when she’s not in combat on alien planets. I’ve always loved the idea of outside bounty hunting samus lives a relatively chill life considering she rarely takes off her helmet or even speaks. It’s canonical that a lot of people in the Metroid universe despite her fame don’t know she’s a woman. So then I doubt she gets recognised in public ever. So i imagine a scenario where samus lives in a modest house in a rural town on a planet probably somewhere in galactic federation(gf) controlled space where no one knows her as that famous universe saving bounty hunter. But as that one friendly over 6ft tall buff lady who has a large amount of pets from tons of different alien planets who she cares for obsessively but never says how or where she got them from. She occasionally goes on long “business trips” off planet probably hires someone to take care of her pets while she’s gone and Samus comes up with some excuse with what she was doing so people don’t get suspicious. If Samus wanted to she could live a life of constant fame and luxury outside of her bounty hunting in some huge mansion in a gf major planet but she enjoys the simple life outside of her demanding job despite the fact she has near infinite finances from her bounty hunting and helping out the gf so she could live any life she wants she chooses the simple one.
Also another point on samus’s sexuality and gender cause I always see a lot of discussion about that on tumblr so I thought I’d throw my hat in the ring. First off while I like the lesbian or bisexual Samus headcannons I’ve almost always seen samus as aroace personally outside of friends her closest companions are probably her many pets and she’d probably be satisfied with that when it came to romance I think when she was younger after she started bounty hunting but before the events of Metroid she probably was asked to go on lots of dates by lots of people of any gender or sexuality or even different alien species probably cause Samus is an incredibly conventionally attractive over6ft buff blonde but I doubt Samus enjoyed them, probably going on them with people cause that what normal people do but Samus didn’t have a normal upbringing. Her parents were murdered by a pirate space pterodactyl and she was raised on an alien planet by her two bird dads in complete isolation from the rest of the galaxy given a magical battle suit that defies physics even in universe and dedicated her life to stopping the people who took both her families from her. So she probably was never really exposed to normal conventions of attraction so never really found any reason to get into it and she’s happy like that. As for Samus’s gender this is also a hotly discussed topic with many seeing her as non binary of trans masc and I don’t really have an opinion on this if Nintendo were to turn around and say samus is nb or trans I would be cool with it cause it’s in perfect character for her case in point her dialogue in Metroid fusion. Discussing Adam and how her referred to her as lady while not as an insult it still is implied that no one had ever focused on Samus’s gender like that probably because it didn’t matter to them in a military environment or as a bounty hunter it probably only mattered that she could get the job done to other people. So it was never a big deal to other people and I think it’s not a big deal to Samus either she probably doesn’t care what people think her gender is which is why she isn’t going out of the way to correct people about it she simply does not consider it important I guess that means I see Samus as genderqueer but I’m not really sure regardless it dosent matter what her gender is she’s still gonna reduce the space pirates to dust anyway or any other threat to the galaxy. Anyway I think I’m done talking about Samus now I highly doubt we’ll ever get these ideas about samus built on in future games and we don’t need too there not necessary for the games or to appreciate Samus and her excellent characterisation in recent games especially dread but I certainly won’t have a problem if they do or who knows maybe the reason that they restarted the development for prime 4 was so they could implement the all important lesbian sex scene.
End of part 1 I’ll be doing a ramble on other chat that fit into this category later on originally they were all gonna be in one post but this took like an hour to write so that’s not happening welp next up is John halo so I’ll write that up some other time byyyyyyeeeee.
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anon ask about negative body image and self-loathing
Hi! I hope it’s okay to rant…I’ve never expressed this about myself aloud and your blog seems like a judgement free space.
I genuinely hate myself. like a lot. From my appearance to my personality and the way I carry myself. I’m a straight cis female and I have a certain idea of what a women should look like… and I am the complete opposite. I have the inverted triangle body shape, so like really wide shoulders, narrow hips, large breasts… which also affects my posture pretty badly. I feel so grotesque. Most times when I look in the mirror I think I look okay but whenever I see myself in a photo or a video I am so disgusted, I feel sick. Like how can I even show myself in public.
There’s no other way to describe it other than that I look like an alien, like I’m not even human. I wouldn’t mind it if I was even average looking. Or at least had a cute face or nice body, by that I mean wider hips than shoulders. But I have neither. It doesn’t help that sometimes people stare at me too…and I just want to hide. Clothes never look right on me. There’s only so much I can do to try to make myself look more proportionate. It’s just not fair. I didn’t choose to look the way that I do. It doesn’t help that I have no friends or have never been in a relationship either. I genuinely don’t think anyone could ever be attracted to me or love me. I try to make friends but they never last, and are often one sided to begin with and fizzle out. No one cares about me the way I care about them. No one wants to talk to me, I have a boring personality and nothing to offer. I’m just so upset, tired and ashamed.
If you had all the things you're lacking, would you be satisfied and happy, or would you find something else wrong with you because this feeling was never about all the things you lacked but actually about something else?
You can change your entire body with cosmetic and other body-altering surgery to became that perfect ideal you're looking for. With will, determination, and money, yeah, anything is possible - but at the end of the day you are still gonna feel the same. Your "certain idea of what women should look like" will always change, you will keep putting yourself down despite everything you've done because you learned to hate yourself, because someone taught you to act this way, because moment after moment created a pattern and now you're here and this is what I'm going to say.
Your body is simply a body.
it's just chillin', cell by cell doing daily activities, the mitochondria bein' the powerhouse of the cell and all that. Hey, the cellular homies have no idea what's going on out there in human society. They have no clue that the "ideal feminine body shape" is arbitrarily and randomly decided by greedy af companies scheming about how shitty they can make you feel about yourself so that you buy their product. For example, compare the "desired female shape" from the 1990's and the 2020's. Completely different. Meanwhile, your poor lil ribosomes are just trying their best to do gene expression here. The DNA says what it says and it is about as helpful as an IKEA instruction manual (read: not very).
It's hard out here, being a cell of the human body. D:
You were born with what you were born with. It is not worse or better than anyone else's body. You've taken the polar opposite of your body type and weaponized it to tear down your self-confidence, because outside influences pressured you into thinking that you need to feel that way - words from people in your life, chance meetings with strangers, marketing and media, fucked-up society, all of it. But there is no particular the body shape you must have to be considered attractive, sexy, or worthy.
People have their own prerogatives. They do what they think is right for themselves. Including you in their lives is secondary to their personal interests. It doesn't make you good or bad if they stay or move on. It doesn't make them good or bad either - they're just doing what they think is right for them at the time. But you're taking their actions and twisting it into a weapon to attack yourself when it probably didn't have much to do with you in the first place.
Why?
It's good to be critical of yourself. It helps you grow and change the things you don't like. But you've hyper-fixated and taken it too far, forgetting about the things that are awesome about you, the interests you have, hobbies you are pursuing. It takes energy to constantly put yourself down. You're drained, abandoning the positives to the wayside. A human is both good and bad. Parts of you will suck, and parts of you don't, but you can't see them because you've buried them deep down and lost touch. It will take work. It might seem easy to constantly shit on yourself, but the reality is that you're actually working really hard to find all the worst angles, and you can redirect that energy to working out, to diving deeper into your interests, to picking up a new hobby, or even distraction. I'm sure that people would say having fun isn't productive, but it is, because it teaches your mind to enjoy something simply for the sake of enjoying it and not trying to get something out of it.
Having that skill is essential for cultivating passion - for others, for yourself, for life.
There are things you can do if you want to. Look for supportive bras and ways to improve posture. Budget for a breast reduction if your healthcare professional thinks it would greatly improve your overall general health. If you want to learn to pose for pictures and know your best angles, look up images of poses you like, copy them, practice on your own, take a class, work with a photographer. There are lots of YouTube videos that explain what looks good on camera - it's not the same as real life. You're taking something 3D and transforming into 2D. It takes a lot of practice. It takes time. It takes failure after failure of looking awkward af until you figure out what you want to look like. It is never the body that is the problem. It is never the clothes. It is figuring out how you want to be perceived at that moment in time and then learning to translate that to the camera, to others, to the world.
You would never say to a friend, you are the complete opposite of what your gender should look like. You're grotesque. Disgusting. Don't go out in public. You're boring. You have nothing to offer. If you're saying those things, you aren't friends anymore. You're being cruel and mean.
Why is it okay for you to say these things to yourself?
You say no one cares about you the way you care about them, but you aren't even giving yourself grace. The most important relationship you need to nurture is the one with you. Friendships come and go. Relationships with lifelong partners are developed later in life. But the constant that remains is you, the one who you will always sleep with is you, and to give love to someone else means you need to love the one and only - you.
Care for her.
Protect her.
Love her.
If it's easier for you to think of yourself as someone to care for, then do it. Make that vow and do for you what you would do for a friend, a lover, a forever partner. You are your forever partner, and she will always forgive you for your mistakes. It is never too late to change your mind. Difficult, yes. So fuckin' difficult. But not too late.
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5 fun facts about Kino
Nobody asked this time, but I’m gonna just do fun facts for all my characters. I don’t know if the face glitch is fixed yet cause I haven’t heard any news from it so might as well do this in the mean time...
1) Back on their home planet, Kino had been leaving a painfully average life, and one of the reason why they accepted the Earth “peaceful exploration” mission was to break away from this. It has also been mentionned before Kino just had a deep fascination with humans in the first place, pretty much ever since hearing about them as a child in school. That is, even if they don’t always understand them.
2) Their name is pronounced kee-no, like Kim (which is pretty much why their human form uses Kim as a pseudonym). Also fun fact kino means movie in several languages such as Russian. Specifying in case someone pronounces the ki like says...Kyle. Their whole name, Kino Gurafee, is a play on the word cinematograpy actually. There is no reason for that, I just felt like it.
3) They don’t have a job but the government agent who discovered them in the desert send them monthly money and pays for their sociology degree. Though now that they have a baby and they’ve been threatened from having their child taken away if they were to have a baby with an Earthling in order to experiment on the baby, it might be time for them to cut ties with the agent.
4) Kino has tried listening to multiple genre of music, but they just haven’t found any Earthling music that sounds good to their fragile Sixamian ears. It reached a point they regret not bringing any music tapes from Sixam with them...I mean, realistically the tapes would probably have been destroyed in the crash of their spaceship but if they managed to survive it why not the tapes?
5) Back on Sixam, they were pretty much seen like those people who wanna have sex with aliens, though really it’s pretty obvious there is only one specific type of human they find attractive. Which is: a dark skinned woman with blue hair. Or at least anyone who’s kinda feminine since they didn’t really grew up with the concept of men and women anyway. Also, unlike humans who have a thing for aliens, at least Sixamians know for a fact Earthlings were real so it’s like, a little bit less weird though widely considered impossible to achieve.
So yeah, these were some fun facts about Kino. Which means Akva is up next.
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The Vengeful Phoenix
Is it bad that I find Fecto Elfilis hot? Like, legit my first reaction to seeing it was “Oh my god, they made the final boss HOT! My worst weakness, AESTHETIC ATTRACTION!” Let’s just stay Chaos Elfilis was even worse on that regard. As someone who’s bisexual and homoromatic, non-binaries are not excluded from my feminine preference. Let’s be honest with ourselves, Elfilis fits all the criteria of Kirby’s designs for females. Long thick legs? Check! No waist? Check! Markings around the face imitating make up? Check! Glad to see they aren’t making ALL those designs female, ENBIS RIIIIISE!
If it isn’t clear; I love Fecto Elfilis and Chaos Elfilis, their design are so good, their backstory just hit me so hard in just the right way, and god do I swoon for the sexy rat alien. FORGIVE MEEEEE FOR I SIIIIMP!!! After beating the final arena, I wanted to celebrate by drawing the fiery science experiment. So, I whipped this up in, like, 3 days… THEY ARE VERY HARD TO DRAW, OK!? I’m not sure what was harder, beating the Ultimate Cup Z, or drawing that spear. It’s so pretty and detailed and I love it, but GOD it was PAAAIIIN! But my goodness was it all worth it! Expevially the wings, they were hard, but I loved stylizing them and they look AWESOME! Chaos Elfilis really reminded me of a phoenix, and with their whole color pallet and connection to fire, I wanted to go hard on the fire themes. Also couldn’t help but put morpho in there, lil butterfly dude checking this dumpster fire out. Tweaked its design just a little bit, me thinking it looks pretty nice. Oh yea, just if your curious, the text is “And here we are” in KatFL’s language.
Tl;dr, I simp for Elfilis and I’m sorry
#kirby#kirby and the forgotten land#katfl spoilers#chaos elfilis#morpho knight#oh my god first poooost!#I’m so proud of this please enjoy!
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That is so gender
When I say my gender is “female but IDK what the hell I’m doing” it’s for two reasons:
1: My relationship with being a woman is not a “celebration of the divine feminine” so much as it’s a giant pain in the ass that I don’t feel intimately connected with, but don’t reject either.*
2: Being “acceptably feminine” in presentation is impossible for me due to various neuro, sensory and balance issues, and lack of money. It also seems incredibly pointless given the amount of effort, discomfort and expense involved and the lack of any real payoff for someone like me. I’m already ostracized by a stunning number of people for being autistic and not being conventionally attractive, and getting a makeover I can’t even afford absolutely will not change that.**
Elaborations below the cut...
*It’s less “I am woman hear me roar” and more a combination of “oh, okay, my body’s got boobs and a uterus this time around” and “WHAT THE FUCK why is all of this so hard”.
I don’t identify with being male, and I’m not unhappy with having a biologically female body--I’m just unhappy with all the stupid shit I have to deal with as a result. Periods. PCOS. Living in fear of getting pregnant. The insane social expectations. The shitty, uncomfortable clothing. The various dangers. The medical prejudice. The social pressure to limit our interests and pursuits to what’s “acceptably feminine”. The sheer number of men who refuse to think of and treat us like actual human beings (and then wonder why we won’t date them). The attacks on our rights. And so on, and so on.
My soul, my inner self, isn’t defined by my sex or my gender. My physical and social experience of life is heavily affected by them, but the rest of me is just sitting back going “this is all very weird and some of it sucks.”
**Performing femininity is this great weird mystery to me (yay autism) that I can’t do well at all due to so much of the performance being physically uncomfortable (yay sensory issues). I also can’t identify at all with anyone who considers activities like getting their eyelashes dyed or their pubic hair ripped out (CRINGE) to be “self-care”.
I can’t do high heels either. Some women look at six inch stiletto heels by some designer and go “I would die for those shoes”. Me and my balance issues go “I would die IN those shoes”. Also the idea of exposing too much of my round little hobbit body or wearing anything too tight makes me super uncomfortable.
And all of it seems so fucking unnecessary. The performance of femininity feels alien to me, and contrived. It’s like something society made up to busy women with shit that doesn’t matter instead of our having more time and energy to get important things done or just enjoy ourselves. In addition, making myself up, showing cleavage, wearing ankle-breakers and all that won’t make me more confident, because I’ll be self-conscious and physically miserable the whole time.
I don’t feel prettier in lipstick; I feel ridiculous, and even more self-conscious. And also like my lips are coated in axle grease. And it feels pointless, too. Even if I did up a full face of makeup perfectly it wouldn’t “make up for” enough in the eyes of those who care about such things. It’s still my fat, plain potato self, only now with red lips and sparkly eyelids. It doesn’t improve how people treat me, or make me more comfortable in public, so why bother with it except maybe when I have to dress up anyway?
So not only am I bad at performing femininity and made terribly uncomfortable by it, I just don’t see the point. Or the point outside of the massive social pressure for us to put on the performance, and the ostracism we face if we don’t conform.
I’m rejected by most people anyway for being autistic and not conventionally attractive, so trying to be ultra-feminine would not gain me social acceptance. In fact, it would offer little reward, if any, especially compared to the cost in time, effort, discomfort, distraction and sometimes, physical risk.
I have no control over other people’s prejudices, and there’s an overwhelming number of people out there who look down on me for things I can’t control either. Putting myself through severe discomfort to satisfy other people’s idea of what a woman should look like doesn’t protect me from social ostracism, even if I could do it right, so why try?
Besides, it often feels like doing so would be pandering to the same assholes who treat me like a lunatic if I infodump or stim in public. It honestly feels like a lot of people out there are just looking for any excuse to reject someone, whether it’s their dress size, what they do with their hands while talking, or whether their fingernails have the right color of lacquer on them. Stupid, ridiculous, petty reasons. But it happens all the time, and I will never understand why.
I’m clean, fairly well-groomed, and usually comfortably dressed in something clean and decent-looking, like a long cotton skirt. I’ll wear something nicer for special occasions, and maybe even endure some lipstick. If that isn’t “feminine” enough for someone, well...they can go fuck themselves. Nobody asked them to play conformity police in my life.
So yeah, that’s the whole explanation of my weird relationship with femininity and its performance. I hope it made some kind of sense.
#gender#femininity#performing femininity#queer#autism#fat#not conventionally attractive#gender conformity#cw bullying#cw ableism#cw sexism#sexism#what is my life#she/her but IDK what I'm doing
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while I’m gnc woman myself and heavily so…
while this is definitely splitting straws….
I kinda feel it is worth thinking about if it’s hypocritical to be saying we distrust conforming/not gnc women who are gender crit just on the basis of their own look and not how they talk about conforming vs gnc
Unless I guess you would accept women distrusting anyone who also used transition steps to meet an internal body standard as a gender crit … like distrusting in the same way — not hating or alienating but just wary and suspicious of not really getting it or smthn
Not that it’s the same thing but you yourself compared them when thinking about how it adds up to do cosmetic surgery for your body feelings in the same way yeah ok many feminist women are critical of cosmetic surgery, makeup, heels, diet culture/aiming for certain body look, other feminine performance, performance for men… but may or may not be able to get themselves to stop engaging in it depending. Or if so it may be a process over time, with relapses. And may or may not represent how they act about it to other women.
This was that post https://at.tumblr.com/butchviking/what-was-stopping-you-before-you-made-the-decision/roaovu40ag79
Of course nobody can stop themselves how they feel distrust… I definitely distrust a lot more people than I justify rationally distrusting if that makes sense. One of mine is actually instinctive low level distrust of women really into male figures for any reason actually but I still support you……….. lmao
In a lot of ways I guess it is natural, but maybe limiting, that we most gut level trust people who we see as like ourselves.
hey to be clear i did say i DON'T distrust them! we just clearly have a different outlook on the world. there's nothing wrong w that nd we all make certain concessions to the world in our own ways (im very very aware that my desire for surgery comes off as anti-feminist to many... and i can't rly argue w that!) nd some women have just gone the other way with it to me. i'm not like automatically uncomfortable around them or anything, i get along plenty well with plenty of gender-conforming women, but it's true that there's something in my experience of the world that they'll never quite understand. and i'm sure there's plenty in their experience of the world that i'll never understand. that's why it's kind of lame for me 2 feel pushed out from the other community where i think ppl would understand those things.
i think u misunderstood my point wrt the comparison to makeup/heels/femininity in that post tho... i was saying it a bit the other way round and i did worry that it wouldn't come across quite right but what i was saying is that. hmm. those women do those things that make them uncomfortable in order to be attractive to others, right? well i've often decided to ABSTAIN from surgery because i'm worried that if i DID get it i'd be unattractive to other lesbians. so me NOT getting the surgery would be me making myself uncomfortable to appeal to others. so who am i to criticise other women for sacrificing their comfort to be attractive and then do the very same thing in my own way?
#and thank u for supporting me despite me being extremely into male figures 😭😭 i cant help it they are just so sweet and they play SONGS..#ask#anonymous#tsposting
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whenever i see posts from terfs that talk about “oh i feel terrible when beautiful lesbians transition into ugly men” i have to stop and wonder who are they talking about specifically? because it’s a narrative that only truly applies to (1) category of trans masc people—a very small margin of white, conventionally attractive people who are now trans masc (binary or otherwise).
they are never talking about someone like me. someone who is black, someone who has never been lesbian or solely attracted to women, someone who wasn’t conventionally feminine or attractive to catch the eye of them in the first place.
and while that’s definitely good—i don’t want my name in terfs’s fucking mouths—it also becomes alienating even in transmasc community for me. men who were lesbians (or still are), who are white, who are conventionally attractive to have someone lusting, pining, and whining over their transitioning and “losing another lesbian” sometimes feel completely foreign to someone like me.
and while i WHOLEHEARTEDLY agree, that lesbians, other women, terfs, whoever, etc. have no right and jurisdiction over their bodies, their identities or their experiences—and i will happily help debunk and fight tooth and nail for my brothers— i suppose i’m also tired of always seeing this be the only narrative when we talk about how and the ways that terfs hate us. i can’t fucking relate to being desirable or wanted by them enough to have complaints be launched towards me about it. i can’t relate to being a lesbian or to having those experiences intertwine with my pursuit of masculinity. i feel like it does a disservice to other trans mascs/men like myself who aren’t even part of this particular conversation that always seems to be the center of transandrophobia.
we were never the “daughters” that anyone cared about losing in the first place.
#he speaks#this isn’t really well thought out#and i’m not as eloquent as other transmascs out there that discuss gender shit#bc i also am not as well versed researched etc#i know this is all about intersectionality#but i feel like as much as people talk about how we need to include intersectionality in these conversations#we don’t as much as we need to#the wayward daughter narrative just deadass does not apply to me#and sure my mom may feel some type of way#but when you hear the fearmongering around trans men#it’s never about poc it’s never about non lesbians#like i’ve never been a lesbian in my life#and transitioning has decreased my attraction to women and femme aligning people to the null and void zone#so this has nada to do with me#it affects me in certain ways#but really it fucking doesn’t#so i wish there were more convos#about poc and non women attracted trans mascs and the shit we deal with#and celebrating us#instead of every other post being this#or omg you’re not wrong for being attracted to women like what if being trans and getting out of femininely killed that for me huh#what if embracing my masculinity also means i don’t have to be attracted to any femininity at all and that’s Okay#where are these conversations and how do i have them#long rant short#eugh
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Pairing: Trent Baretta/Chuck Taylor/Wynn Yuta
Quote: I love a story with food in it.
Verse: Supernatural
The world was bigger than Trent Baretta would have ever imagined.
He had grown up around other fae, though he had never known another just like himself. The mortals called his kind brownie, hard-working spirits who could become mischievous when not properly taken care of. That care included leaving an offering of food, mostly milk or cream, in exchange for all their hard work. Growing up, Trent had been lonely. Solitary. There were never any other brownies in the same house and it hadn’t been until moving to New York City that he met the other two beings, his roommates-to-be.
Orange Cassidy was unknowable, even after so many years of being his friend. Sometimes it seemed like he was also fae, something akin to a pixie. He was just as mischievous, after all. But that didn’t explain the sunglasses, the aversion he seemed to have to the sun, so Trent assumed Orange was some sort of vampire. Not that he cared either way. All Trent cared about when it came to Orange was that he took care of himself and that he paid the rent on time.
Chuck Taylor was on a different level.
Chuck was indeed like Trent, a fae folk. The Kentucky native had been excited to meet Trent, to know another figure who had his vices. Whereas Trent found his vice in sugar, in sweets, like most brownies, Chuck found his vice in alcohol like most clurichaun. The duo often found themselves trying to get more housework done than the other or trying to play tricks on the other. The more time the duo spent together, and with Orange, the more Trent couldn’t imagine spending his time with anyone else.
That was until he had been introduced to the Yuta siblings.
Orange had been seeing a new girl, a witch apprentice named Cherry, who had invited the trio to a sort of support group for creatures of the supernatural variety run by an old British vampire. It was a safe haven for all sorts of creatures and Trent was impressed by the variety. Kris, the trio’s upstairs neighbor and resident alien, was speaking rapidly with what appeared to be a human-sized moth that Kris would later introduce as Martina. The vampire who ran the group, another Trent, spoke rapidly with a large tattooed figure who later introduced himself as a werebear named Brody.
But it was the duo in the corner that attracted Trent’s attention.
The decidedly male figure didn’t interest Trent, though he could notice how Chuck seemed to watch him. While that did worry Trent, he decided he could use that to his advantage to speak to the other member of the duo, the one who did interest him. The other person was more feminine of face, but Trent was familiar with the form of someone who was binding, even if he was only use to it when other fae hid wings. This was different, of course, but that wasn’t what drew him in.
What drew him in was the faintest trace of gills underneath the collar of the figure's button-up shirt.
The brownie sat down next to his newest subject of interest, a grin across his lips, “Well. I’ve never seen you before, huh?”
The male figure raised an eyebrow, looking Trent up and down intently, “It might be because you’re new here.”
Trent raised an eyebrow of his own, “I wasn’t talking to you, was I? No. I’m talking to them. I’m talking to…” he trailed off, hoping the figure of interest would give him a name.
The corner of the others upper lip upturned, “You must think I’m dumb, sir. I can’t just give a fae my name.”
Trent laughed, “Clever. Very clever. I promise I won’t do anything terrible with it. I just want to know what to call you.”“That’s my brother, Wheeler. I’m Wynn,” they introduced, taking a sip of water from a paper cup, “And you are?”
“Trent. Trent Baretta,” the brownie grinned, “and you’re right, I’m fae. What are the two of you?”
Wheeler narrowed his eyes, seemingly protective of his sibling, “You can’t just ask that, especially here. This is a place for all creatures.”
“Woah, easy now,” Trent held up a hand to placate the other man, “not trying to be rude. You two aren’t hiding as well as you think you are.”
Wynn cocked their head to the side, arms crossing over their chest, “Excuse me, Mr. Baretta?”
“Your gills,” Trent brought a hand up to Wynn’s shirt collar, “Either get a higher collar or don’t hide them. In a place like this, you shouldn’t have to, right?”
Wynn ducked their head sheepishly, pulling away from Trent’s touch. “Thought I…it doesn’t matter. You should know what we are if you can see them, then. Right?”
“Never met someone like you before, a mer,” Trent charmed, offering his hand, “Mr. Seven’s about to start the meeting. My friend Cherry says he’ll be talking about how to curb non-human appetites and I love a story with food in it. Come sit with me?”
Wynn gave another smile, gently taking the brownie’s hand, “Can’t usually turn down an offer from a fae. I’m in.”
#aew imagine#aew#trent baretta#trent baretta imagine#original character#character: trent baretta#character: wynn yuta#character: chuck taylor#character: wheeler yuta#verse: supernatural
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feeling a lot of gender feelings
#hmmm………………..#mostly in relation to my bisexuality?#like my relationship with femininity has always been so??? distant#always felt like I was on stage expected to recite lines for a play/character I’d never even heard of before#idk….#like I’m attracted to femininity but I’m also alienated by it?#and I’ve always felt so… neutral? like I wanna feel feminine but?#I’ll say shit like ‘women have to deal with so much shit THEY deserve so much better’#like babe… you’re supposed to be one of THEM?#but yeah… I don’t feel androgynous per se#at least what my understanding of white washed tradition androgyny is which is most definitely flawed and skewed#idk#thinking thoughts#I wouldn’t call this gender dysphoria either#at least I don’t think it is?#if anyone knows please let me know#it’s idk#just write is the reason I’m even thinking of this#his Why Mulan Mattered video kinda made me realize that THIS is what I’ve been feeling my whole life#ignore the typos and weird grammar here it’s stream of consciousness in the tags and no beta readers#queer thoughts being thunk
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Deltarune Characters From Most To Least Transgender
Literally, Canonically Trans
Kris: Canon they/them. Looks like every other mostly closeted miserable teenage transfem. Long messy hair they’re growing out for the first time, still wearing clothes their mother bought them because thinking about how they look hurts too much to try anything else, dragging their body around like a corpse to suffer through a high school experience they’re completely alienated from. Loved but only grudgingly accepted by their parents who do not understand them at all. Would get misgendered constantly if they didn’t live in a fantasy society where people are really cool about that. Genuinely painful to think about
Easy To Imagine
Susie: Susie my beloved. Susie the violet tormentor. Susie who fills us with the power of mean girls. She is large and loud and steals every scene she’s in through sheer force of personality. She’s butch in a way that meshes uneasily with traditional notions of gender. There’s no strong narrative justification to read her as transfem, I just really like her and want her to be. Also the tail thing
Berdly: Another essential type of teenage transfem - the wildly obnoxious nerd who doesn’t realize that wanting to be a girl isn’t a universal experience. We were all Berdly once. That’s right, I’m talking to you. You know who you are. If you think you were never this annoying then you’re lying to yourself. He’s going to figure it out somewhere in his late teens to early twenties and turn into an incredibly cool girl
Noelle: Has an extremely feminine sheltered good girl image but feels trapped and suffocated by it. The little bits of her we see peeking out from underneath - her lesbianism, her masochism, her fixation on dangerous bad girl types - all point to her yearning to break free. A huge piece of her attraction to Susie is because she wants to be the bad girl that Susie represents in her head. When she goes away to college and gets free of her mother she’s going to buzz her hair and get seven piercings and kiss a lot of girls and put a she/they in her bio. I’m so proud of her
Somehow, Improbably, Cis
Ralsei: Bizarrely cisgender femboy. One of those little anime twinks where the artist just drew a girl and called it a day. Could transform himself into the perfect image of maidenhood instantaneously by just deciding to be one; doesn’t want to because it’s somehow not a gender thing. Cannot be trans on a fundamental narrative level because his identity is so deeply tied to Asriel’s and Asriel is the Golden Boy up on a pedestal fitting into society perfectly and signifying everything that our cast of queer outcasts can’t live up to. I would like to study him
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