#none of these fucking people no what the word lesbian means
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Transandrophobia truthers are so damn racist and white oh my fucking god y'all actually piss me the fuck off every time you tokenize Black and brown men for your stupid as fuck "mra but make it trans-inclusive" ideology created by a creepy guy with a corrective rape fetish(something I'll never let up on for as long as I live, btw). If I ever see another one of y'all say "Black and brown men face discrimination because they're seen as overly masculine and that's why masculinity in men is oppressed in this society" I will literally kill myself. Stop using Black and brown men as brownie points for your bullshit arguments about misandry being real when you don't have the slightest idea how racialized oppression works. White boys are so annoying and dumb istfg.
@punkeropercyjackson @punknicodiangelo @pinkpinkstarlet
#like none of the dumbasses i've seen say this shit have been poc and HEY IT'S ALMOST LIKE THERE'S A REASON FOR THAT#because actual black and brown men know that their oppression is not based around masculinity but around RACISM#because if it was about masculinity then feminine men of color wouldn't face the same oppression and would be privileged over them which#is not true#it's also worth mentioning that black and brown WOMEN also face these same issues of being seen as more aggressive/strong/violent and thus#more dangerous even more so than our male counterparts so it's not an 'anti-masculinity' issue it's a fucking racism issue#plus once again feminine women of color also face these stereotypes#when we are masculinized even while presenting as feminine that isn't anti-masculinity you dumb fucks that's just racialized misogyny#and misogynoir#it is incredibly telling that white transmascs who use this argument never even mention women of color and that's because if they did then#their entire headass argument would fall apart because it's not about MASCULINITY being oppressed it's about RACISM(which newsflash women#experience too) and masculinity being assumed of black and brown people(women included) is just another facet of the white supremacist#gender binary not any form of masculinity being 'oppressed' in this society lol#don't even get me started on how these men misuse butch lesbians in their arguments as well and act like they are man-lite ugh#sorry but as a black woman i am officially pissed off rbn#like y'all love to spout 'intersectionality' and shit maybe *throws book at them* ACTUALLY READ UP AND LEARN WHAT THE FUCK IT MEANS#stop misusing words created by black women to prove that men are an oppressed group on god you mfers are annoying#anyway the lesson learned here is that white trans men are just as insipid and racist as their cis counterparts#pos the lot of you#racism#transandrophobia is not real#op
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God homophobia is still so present here.
#People who live in liberal areas dni#/hj#my friends got fucking filmed jesus fucking christ can they just leave people alone#none of these fucking people no what the word lesbian means#the restraint it takes to not just tell them to fuck off is so much#sams nonsense#whinging#tw homophobia
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lmao wait i don’t even know if wanna finish this book now
#just. recognizing that a word has been historically used as a slur and some people may be uncomfortable with it isn’t terf rhetoric 🫣🫣#what is this fucking gay twitter circa 2018 🥴#‘well it’s an important word because it includes trans people in my community’ huh? so does lesbian?#it’s like saying dyke isn’t a slur because it’s important to me 🫶#not liking queer doesn’t make you a transphobe? huh?#maybe romance writers shouldn’t try to include one off jokes about lgbt discourse in your smut books 🫣🫣 cause none of y’all do it well#it’s not Trans Exclsuive Radical Feminisn rhetoric to recognize a historical slur as a slur this is so stupid#*insert that photo of the mom putting toys on the top shelf but it’s me with terf and the child is twitter queers*#you are not equipped enough to have discussions about transmisogyny if you’re using terf to mean ‘gay person i disagree with’#fucking clown behavior
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i can’t believe i just read a post with my own two eyes that the only interesting thing about ronance is steve’s emotional reactions to them. steve stans do you hear yourself. and can you ever like. not say things
#i understand with the characters in the show right. that none of your fun pretend steve gay ships would need to be examined by an outsider#bc eddie’s new and jonathan. is on the other side of the nancy breakup lol. and yet no one involves her or those complex feelings talking#abt them. but we want all of steve’s possible emotional reactions to the lesbian characters#can i be honest. i am so tired of the trope where there’s a guy who one of them breaks up with and he’s just there after the lesbians get#together and ik that’s not the case here and it’s just residual resentment for that bleeding into this but. are you joking#ngl! i don’t want to know about a man’s opinions of my relationships. even if it’s my gf’s ex. even if we all happen to be friends. like#maybe im in the minority there. maybe it’s okay if steve is just like whatever#because he canonically said he was over her. and i get first loves mean a lot. but like. what the fuck#like????????????#i get he’s your baby boy he’s your number one he can do no wrong. but. that’s the only part of the r0nance dynamic you care about#that’s all you want to know. very least you could do is not involve that post anywhere near the tags#something abt it just doesn’t sit right. and ik you can come at me with ‘just block people’#but i think i’m disturbed by the number of people who are like omg yeah!!!!!#maybe not everything has to be abt him idk just a thought. sorry steve stans.#also i realize it’s not a ‘trope’ that’s the wrong word but it’s happened enough in shows that i’m like oh my god. can the lesbians just#like exist maybe. perhaps
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PRAYING YOU GIVE US SOME THE EVIL EXES X A DUMBASS S/O PLEASEEEE
Like they're so dumb it's not a joke- like imagine Roxy asking her s/o about the menu at a restaurant they're going to and they go "babe....I'm a lesbian." And it takes a full FIVE MINUTES for them to figure out what she meant
OMG YES i am a certified dumbass so this was very easy to write
matthew patel:
listen....... he gets it
he isn't the sharpest tool in the shed
it's like when you're around each other, your brain cells disappear
most discussions end in the two of you looking at each other, very confused, whatever conversation you were having being long forgotten
he doesn't mind re-explaining thinsg to you if you don't understand them
he thinks it's kinda cute honestly
lucas lee:
he is the himbo-est himbo to ever himbo
honestly most of ramona's exes are dumb but in different endearing ways
i can tell you for a fact that he'll tease you for one thing and then proceed to do it immediately after without even realizing
OR HE'LL TRY TO LIKE SHOW YOU WHAT YOU WERE DOING WRONG AND HOW TO FIX IT AND THEN HE MESSES IT UP HIMSELF LMFAO
"babe, that's not how you do a kickflip. THIS is." (he bails and breaks his board)
todd ingram:
todd is probably one of the most confused people you will ever meet
sometimes you say things that completely baffle him
im talking something so dumb his jaw is hanging wide open and he's rendered completely fucking speechless
and you're confused as to why HE'S confused because you thought you explained what you were saying really well
but you very much did not
there are so many conversations you have with him that are cut short because he doesn't know how to respond
"hon... look at me... what?" "huh?" "did you hear a word you just said?" "wait... what did i say?"
roxie richter:
she thinks it's cute!!!
most of the time
other times, she's genuinely concerned for your sanity
"so... whatcha wanna eat?" "babe, im a lesbian" "...what?" "what do you mean what?" "i know... you're a lesbian... i was asking about the food..." "OH"
you cannot hear apparently
she thinks it's funny whenever you do that thing where you hear her but you don't process what she said so you go "what" and then you cut her off when she tries to explain cuz you finally have an answer
she thinks it's HILARIOUS
kyle katayanagi:
he thinks it's hysterical
like you know this motherfucker is the ultimate tease
you don't know the answer to a question? you say something that sounds dumber than you intended it to?
you know damn well he's getting on your case about it
and honestly he loves it
he knows he's smart but he's fascinated by your sheer stupidity
he doesn't mind explaining things to you either
but you aren't getting out of an explanation without him calling you, and i mean this in the most affectionate way possible, a dumbass
ken katayanagi:
he's ALSO very fascinated with the fact that none of your millions of brain cells work
even when it comes to what he thinks is a simple concept, it takes a lot of explaining for you to understand
this is explaining that he doesn't mind doing
maybe his knowledge is just a little TOO advanced
he can never tell if he's the one whose too smart or if it's just your natural dumbness
it confuses him
he's enamored
literally say one dumbass thing around him and he's gonna have you pinned to a wall in the most intense makeout session of your life
gideon graves:
listen... gideon isn't as much of a douche as everyone makes him out to be
he thinks you being dumb is adorable
something about his weird thing for control and how he loves to explain things to you
he doesn't wanna control in a toxic way, let me just get that out there
he just loves how you never seem to know what's going on
god he loves it HE LOVES IT
#matthew patel#matthew patel x reader#lucas lee#lucas lee x reader#todd ingram#todd ingram x reader#roxie richter#roxie richter x reader#kyle katayanagi#kyle katayanagi x reader#ken katayanagi#ken katayanagi x reader#gideon graves#gideon graves x reader#scott pilgrim#scott pilgrim vs the world#spvtw#scott pilgrim takes off#spto
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The Plastic and the Art Freak
Janis Imi'ike x Reader
Word Count: 1.1k
Trigger Warnings: smut, MDNI. Top!Janis, Sub!Reader. Fingering, oral, heated make-out (all R receiving), & closeted reader.
Request: 1.1k
Can you do a Top!Janis Imi'ike x bottom!plastic!fem!reader smut. Where the reader runs into the Janitors closet after the reader broke up with her bf (bc she's a closeted lesbian 😗) and finds Janis is there also and Janis is basically being snarky and shit bc of the reader going along with Regina and the shit she did to Janis. And Janis eventually gets all up in her face and eventually the reader kisses Janis and that leads to more...
Mean Girls requests are open.
Discord | Roleplay
(Y/n) ignored Harry calling to her, wanting to know why she was ending it. Everyone had gathered around them, and (Y/n) felt uncomfortable. Walking away, her pace continued to grow as she rounded the corner, slipping into the janitor's closet. She sighed in relief, finally feeling peace fill her until she looked around and made eye contact with Janis, who was eating chips and sitting crisscross applesauce on the floor. (Y/n) wanted to curse when she saw Janis Imi'ike of all people in the same small room as her. Turning to leave, (Y/n) hoped that Harry was gone and the crowd died down.
"What's the matter, princess? Scared to breathe the same air of a lowly art freak?" Janis questioned, standing up to throw away her trash. When she moved, (Y/n) began to realize how small the space around them was. Shaking her head, her hand twitched on the door handle, narrowing her eyes over at the girl who wore a cocky smirk on her lips. She knew what she was doing. "Don't let me stop you from leaving. Regina is probably worried sick about the whereabouts of one of her most loyal henchwomen. You can't leave her worried, can you? After all, you're just like Gretchen and Karen, you follow everything she does all the time."
By the time Janis was done, their faces were close together, and (Y/n)'s face was red with anger. But instead of yelling back at Janis, she kissed her deeply. This was something that Janis automatically reciprocated as she pulled (Y/n) close. (Y/n) deepened the kiss, her hands making their way into her hair easily. This was something that (Y/n) thought about practically every day, kissing the girl in her art class who stands up for the little guy, always says what's on her mind, and looks hot while she is painting the most radical art projects. In truth, despite how Regina says they should hate Janis, (Y/n) has always liked and admired her.
Janis could say the same for (Y/n). Even though she was annoyed that (Y/n) followed alongside anything Regina said they must do, she knew that (Y/n) wasn't like the other Plastics. She guessed she was more annoyed over the fact that (Y/n) dropped Janis when Regina did. Right now, though, with their lips smashing together and their teeth clashing as they kissed, it felt like none of that mattered anymore. The only that truly mattered to Janis at that moment was the girl she was kissing as her hands slipped under her shirt to hold her waist before they traveled to (Y/n)'s pants.
"Do it, fuck me, Janis," (Y/n) whispered on Janis's lips, allowing them a moment to catch their breath as they made eye contact. Janis nodded softly before smirking as she kissed (Y/n) again. Her hands slipped into the girl's shorts and automatically, (Y/n) gasped out in pleasure. Janis knew all of the ways to push her buttons the right way. (Y/n) moaned softly on Janis's lips until Janis pulled away to press kisses down her jawline and neck. Her body felt like it was coming undone in all the right ways. "Fuck, Janis, you feel so good."
Janis's ego was boosted by (Y/n)'s words as she slipped a finger into (Y/n), smirking when she moaned her name. Admittedly, the two have been into each other for years despite all of the drama. This was just the first time either one of them had done anything about it. Janis brought (Y/n) closer to her climax, but didn't let her reach it yet. "I want you to beg me to let you cum." Janis demanded, her lips by (Y/n)'s ear, nipping at her earlobe. (Y/n) shuddered in pleasure at the feeling. She felt like she could collapse in Janis's hands as her legs shook.
"Please, Janis, you're making me feel so good. Please, let me cum." She cried out, her eyes fluttering close as her head fell back. Janis sped up but still didn't allow her to cum. (Y/n) felt as though she could cry. "Please, Janis, please. I'm yours, I'm all yours. Let me cum, please."
Janis's lips twitched with satisfaction as she finally allowed (Y/n) to climax. As (Y/n) came, Janis pulled the girl's shorts down, cleaning her up with her tongue. (Y/n) cried out to Janis, her hands tangling into her hair again as she felt herself coming up to her second orgasm in seconds. "Don't be shy, baby, cum again." And (Y/n) unraveled again and Janis continued to drink her up like she was water. (Y/n) felt weak in the knees as she caught her breath while Janis pulled her shorts back up. (Y/n) didn't object to Janis kissing her, allowing her to taste herself on Janis's tongue.
As the two mellowed out, (Y/n) looked at Janis for a long moment. "When we were in eighth grade, the reason I stopped talking to you… I shouldn't have done it, but it was because I was crushing on you. When Regina kissed you, I thought I was going to die. Instead of just being normal, I stopped talking to you, and that was my fault. I'm sorry, Janis." (Y/n) apologized as her chest still heaved and her lips remained swollen. She needed to get that out. She needed Janis to know why everything went down the way they did between them. She had been carrying that guilt for so long, and she knew she needed to apologize. Because Janis was right, she always did everything Janis wanted and stood beside her throughout everything.
Janis licked her lips, still enjoying the taste of (Y/n) on them. "It's okay, all is forgiven." She said honestly, taking (Y/n)'s hand. "I think the reason it hurt so much is because I had a crush on you, too," Janis admitted as the two took their time to process the information they shared.
"I'm not out yet," (Y/n) said sadly, not wanting Janis to be upset with her. She was worried about coming out. Not just because of Regina, but because she was worried about the world. She felt like she needed the time to come out when she was ready, and that time wasn't today or tomorrow. She didn't want to disappoint Janis, but this was information that she felt that Janis deserved to know.
Janis smiled softly, cupping the girl's cheeks and pressing a kiss onto her lips. "I know, it's okay. There isn't a specific timeline you need to follow." Janis said as she reassured (Y/n) that it was okay to not be out. "And, I'll be here to support you no matter what." Janis hugged her and (Y/n) accepted and returned the hug. (Y/n) felt safe in Janis's arms and in that moment, everything felt right.
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exoplanet p.3
pairing: ellie williams x fem! reader (ur a girly girl in this one!!) (she/her pronouns)
summary: you’ve won the life lottery as one of the few people on earth with parents who gained admittance to the most prestigous safezone in the world after the outbreak. but after a lab accident sends you out to jackson, wyoming, real life hits you fast. it’s a good thing that a hot lesbian finds u. (lol). mean ellie at first, slowburn, enemies to friends to lovers, fem reader asf
warnings: (PLEASE READ!) explicit language, violence, description of a medical procedure sans anesthesia, recreational drug use (idk how else to put it ellie gets absolutely zonked in the beginning), reader overthinks asf and is a little neurotic but that's why we love her x
a/n: hey guys! thank you so much for the wait! it's been genuinely insane how sweet and incredible all of you are. i've never felt so appreciated for my writing!! also, some notes: this chapter is heavily inspired by my last relationship. sorry if it's not as immersive bc of it! and also i don't have ANY medical knowledge so...cast a blind eye when u get to that scene
part 1
part 2
tags: @prettyplant0 @666findgod @sawaagyapong @rystarkov @buzzybuzzsposts @addisonnie @galacticstxrdust @parkersmyth @pinkazelma
wc: 6.6k
enjoy x
“One more time.”
You gave Ellie a withering look from where you were sitting at the end of her bed.
“Please,” she said, drawing out the s. “Just once more. I promise.”
“Fine.” You rolled your eyes—a habit of hers that you were quickly picking up—and took in a deep breath. “Fuck.”
Ellie lost it, peals of laughter bouncing off the walls. “Another one. Say something else.”
“I don’t understand why you think this is so funny,” you said.
“You say it so weird.”
“I enunciate,” you clarified. “I don’t ‘sound weird’. It’s called pronouncing every letter in the word and not having a lazy mouth.”
“Please,” she gasped. “At least say bitch. You haven’t said that one yet.”
You looked her dead in the eye. “Bitch.”
If you weren’t already certain that Ellie was high out of her mind by the smell of her room and the general haze in the air, the way she howled with laughter and fell back on her bed would’ve made you entirely positive.
This was new. You’d begun to hang out with her in her room after dinner—that was normal—but when she’d knocked on your door smelling heavily of weed once you’d said goodnight to Joel, you were nothing less than shocked. Of course, she had none left for you. Which was probably good, because only a sober mind could navigate a night sitting on Ellie’s bed without doing something really, really stupid.
“I can’t believe you call me weird,” you said, tucking your feet under her and giving her a pointed look.
“You’re so lucky you didn’t grow up where I did,” Ellie said, wiping a tear away from her cheek as she tried (unsuccessfully) to rein in her giggles. “You would’ve been eaten alive, good lord.”
“What were you like as a kid?” you asked, resting your chin on your knees.
She considered for a moment, growing more somber. “Um…I don’t know if you would’ve liked me very much.”
“What do you mean? Of course I would’ve liked you.”
“No,” she said, swiping at her face so she pushed a strand of hair away. “I don’t think you would have.”
“Why not?”
“I was…” She paused, picking at her cuticles. “Back then I didn’t have anyone. I was an orphan, you know. My parents were never in the picture, so I was the only one I could count on. I was really rough around the edges and could be nasty. But I probably would’ve ignored you like I did everyone else. “
“Everyone? You didn’t have anyone? No friends at all?”
Ellie blinked, and her gaze remained fixed on her hands. “Basically, yeah. I mean, there was one girl, but that’s…I don’t want to talk about that right now, actually.”
“That’s okay,” you said, reaching forward to touch her knee. She flinched at the contact but didn’t brush you away. The image of a young, scared Ellie living somewhere alone made your chest ache. “You don’t have to tell me.”
“What were you like?” she asked, tilting her head and meeting your eyes.
“Hmmm…” Mirth crept into your tone. “What do you think?”
“What do I think?” Ellie echoed, her eyes cloudy as she thought. Then a small smirk formed on her face. “Oh god, were you one of those spoiled brats? Were you a mean girl?”
“God, no,” you said, raising your eyebrows. “Not mean.”
“Then what?”
You paused. “I was really shy, I guess. And quiet, too. I didn’t do much but read for a good 10 years of my life. I used to have awful pronunciation because I would spend more time reading than talking to anyone. But I think I would’ve liked you.”
Ellie shook her head.
“Yes,” you said. “Maybe I would’ve been a little scared of you. I probably would’ve never had the courage to talk to you. But I would’ve liked you, I think.”
“Scared of me?”
“Yeah.”
“Why? I was a kid.”
“I was mostly going off of how I felt when I actually first met you,” you said, shrugging.
She gasped theatrically. “You’re scared of me?”
“No!” you said, smacking her knee. “That’s not what I mean. You’re just really intimidating.”
“Intimidating?” She looked at you incredulously.
“You’re so tough,” you explained, feeling heat grow in your cheeks. “You seem just—I don’t know, just so capable. There’s nothing you’re too afraid to face, nothing you’re too afraid to say.”
“That’s not true,” she said lightly.
“Well, of course I’m sure there are things that you’re afraid of,” you amended. “But you hide it so well. You just seem so…fearless.”
“Hm,” Ellie said, letting her head rest against the headboard. “I think you would’ve made me a nervous wreck. If we’d met when we were kids, I mean.”
“Why?”
She shrugged. “I’ve never met anyone quite like you before. You’re just so untouched.” She winced. “God, no. That sounds gross. I just mean…I dunno. I wouldn’t have known how to act around you. You haven’t had to harden up like everyone else I know.”
“Are you saying I should develop trust issues or something?” you asked, your voice a teasing lilt.
“You know,” she said, nodding seriously, “That is part of it. It was really off-putting how quickly you trusted me. But I guess that’s just a product of where you grew up.”
“Yeah,” you said softly. “I wonder how I would’ve turned out if I’d grown up like you.”
“Can I be honest?” Ellie asked.
“Sure.”
“I don’t think you’d still be here if you were me,” she said, her eyes crinkling. “No offense. You just have zero survival skills. I swear that shit has to be genetic. I’ve never met someone more averse to violence in my life.”
You sighed, pressed your hands deep into Ellie’s comforter as a thought hit you. “I think if you’d been born in my position, you would’ve been greater than anything either of us could ever dream of. Much greater than me.”
“Definitely not,” said Ellie. “There’s no fucking way I’m studying the way you apparently do. I honestly think I’d take being an orphan over the study schedule I saw in your bag.”
She was of course referencing the time table you’d roughly sketched up the morning before you’d ended up in Jackson. It was blocked to the minute, citing the study content and the location of said study session. She’d been beyond horrified to see it.
You laughed, nudging her socked food with yours.
“Is there music? In Terranova?”
“Oh,” you said, startled at the abrupt change of subject. “Uh, yeah. Of course. I listened to it all the time.”
“I used to have a Walkman,” she said, leaning back as she reminisced. She was lying flat on her back now. “It ended up breaking a while ago, but it was like my child.”
“Have you ever seen a movie before?” you asked, sitting up rigid straight as the thought occurred to you.
“Duh,” she said, giving you a weird look. “Do you think I live under a rock?”
“How many?”
“Hm.” Ellie began counting, ending on her second hand. “I think 6?”
“You’ve seen a total of 6 movies in your life?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you want to see more?”
She shrugged. “I mean, I guess. It’s just tough to find CDs that are still functional after so long.”
“Hold that thought,” you said, holding a finger in her direction as you stood up.
“Hey!” she called as you bolted out the door. “Where are you going?”
You came bounding back to her room in a matter of seconds, your laptop in your hands.
“What the fuck?” she said. “Isn’t that your homework thing?”
“Yes,” you said, feeling around for an outlet, “But I also have a ridiculous amount of movies downloaded on this. Our dorm wi-fi is shit and I have way too much storage on this thing, so I just download, like, every movie I’ve ever wanted to watch.”
“Your dorm what?”
You waved your hand. The last thing you wanted to do was explain to her how the 802.11 standard allowed wireless connections a few years after the outbreak. “Not important. Here, come look at this.”
Your laptop roared to light with the help of your charging cord. Quickly, you typed your password in and opened your downloads. Ellie hovered over your shoulder, squinting at the screen with confusion.
“Here,” you said, opening up the album that had everything you had seen for your entire university career and passing the laptop to Ellie. “Use the touchpad—there, yeah—to navigate. Press to click. These are all movie files that I’ve seen. We can watch them on my laptop. Some of them were filmed in Terranova, too, so they’re post-apocalypse.”
She perused the selection you had for quite some time, the glow of the screen lighting up her face against the dim room. “Okay. This one.”
And thus began a tradition. Each night after you’d finished showering and Joel retired to his room, Ellie would come knock on your door and ask if you wanted to come over. You’d talk for a while, then open your laptop and pick something out to watch. Ellie was never high after the first time, which was unsurprising considering that there definitely wasn’t a way to get any in Jackson. Where she found any the first time was still a mystery to you.
~
A week or so after your first patrol with Ellie, Joel had taken it upon himself to teach you how to shoot. You were surprisingly not as bad as you’d expected, but the rebound was tough to get used to, and you were still hung up over the whole “killing living things” part.
Your first patrol—first real one—came quickly, and before you knew it, Ellie was handing you the same gun you’d dropped the first time with a suspicious look.
“Don’t kill one of us with that thing,” she warned. “Be smart, okay?”
“Sure thing, boss,” you said to her, mock saluting as best you could while you were leading Japan to the mounting block.
She rolled her eyes. “Please act normal or I’ll make you carry around that glorified pocket knife instead again.”
The patrol began as usual, Ellie leading you down the same path you went last time. It was a beautiful day out, with the early spring sun filtering through the evergreen trees that populated the woods and birdsong filling the air.
Though conversations with Ellie were getting easier (given that it actually seemed like she wanted to talk to you now), you were still starstruck. Nothing that you did and nothing that you thought could get you to stop seeing her the way you did. You were routinely distracted by everything about her. It was a wonder that you could even function as a normal person around her, much less handle a weapon and a horse.
You two had nearly made the full rotation when your surroundings exploded in action.
“Fuck,” Ellie hissed as someone behind you two fired a shot that narrowly missed Shimmer.
You whipped around, gun in hand, to see two men—two normal men who weren’t infected. One held a bow, the other a gun.
The one who had fired the first shot never even stood a chance. He was down on the ground seconds after you’d seen him, Ellie’s aim taking him out before you could even ready your gun.
The second man notched an arrow and managed to draw it back and release into the air right as Ellie’s bullet struck him, sending him falling back.
“I don’t think there’s any more,” said Ellie, slightly breathless as she scanned the forest. “Sometimes outsiders pull this shit—try to kill us for our supplies. I’ve never seen them this close to the wall, though. I’ll have to tell Maria and Tommy.”
Normally, you would’ve felt up to making some sort of sarcastic comment about how that was a really unconcerning thing for her to tell you and that you actually felt so much more comfortable going on patrol knowing that there were also just run-of-the-mill people trying to kill you, but a twinge in your lower body distracted you.
Slowly, nervously, you looked down. Air immediately left your lungs.
“At least we’re done,” Ellie was saying, wiping her hands off on her thighs and slinging the gun over her shoulder. “What a crazy end for your first actual patrol, huh?”
When you didn’t answer, she turned to you and saw the arrow sticking out of your side,
“Shit,” said Ellie, jumping off Shimmer and reaching you in seconds. “Shit, shit, shit. Oh god.”
“Am I going to die?” you asked, staring starstruck at the blood escaping the outline of the arrowhead. You couldn’t feel anything anymore. Were you in shock?
“No,” said Ellie firmly. “Absolutely not. Do you need help getting off?”
Before you could answer, she was already helping you down, carefully avoiding the protruding arrow.
“Listen,” she said, back to being her unwavering self, “We’re right by the wall. I’m going to help you walk in, and then I’ll grab some supplies, okay? Don’t try to pull the arrow out. You hear me? Don’t.”
Swallowing hard, you nodded. She helped you walk the few steps to be carefully concealed by the wall, then grabbed the two horses and darted past you, making a break for Maria and Tommy’s cabin.
In a haze of confusion, you could see Maria running out, holding a box out to Ellie in exchange for the reins of the horses. Ellie said something that made Maria point towards you. She nodded, then ran back to you.
By the time that she’d reached you, the shock had begun to wear off, replaced by the stinging pain from the object that had impaled you. It was worse than anything you’d ever felt before in your life, and it took all you had not to keel over.
“Hey,” she said, reaching out to grab your face so you had to look at her. “Don’t be afraid. I’ve done this before, okay? I’m, like, the master. It’s going to be alright.”
“Done what before?” you managed to grind out.
Ellie let go of your face to dig through the box Maria had given her, producing a needle, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, and what looked like a spool of thin thread.
Horror slowly trickled through you as you realized what was about to happen.
“It doesn’t look all that deep,” Ellie was saying as she examined the arrow. “So I don’t think it’s hit anything. It’s just going to be a nasty hole. I’m going to pull it out now, okay?”
You let out a strangled scream as she grasped the arrow’s end and yanked it out without warning.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Ellie repeated. She threw the arrow over her shoulder and knelt so she was hovering over you. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” you gasped. You were most certainly not. You couldn’t quite get your eyes to focus, and your heart was beating out of your chest.
“Alright,” she said firmly, grasping your shoulders and pulling you up so you were slumped against the wall. “Sit up straight, alright? Also, this is going to hurt.”
At first there were just snipping sounds as she cut part of your shirt away—then something cool and wet pressed to your wound. You cried out again as a fresh white hot pain bloomed in your middle.
“I know, I know.” Ellie’s voice was consoling as she reached up to brush away the sweaty strands of hair stuck to your forehead. “Just a few more seconds.”
“Fuck—off—” you gritted out from your teeth.
Ellie’s eyebrows shot up. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. Just this once.”
She released the alcohol-saturated cotton pad, throwing it aside and fussing with the thread and needle until she was satisfied.
By the time her fingers were ghosting over your abdomen again, you couldn’t pull your eyes away from the puncture wound and the needle she was wielding.
“Don’t look,” said Ellie. “Pick something else. You don’t need to watch.”
“I hate needles,” you whispered, choosing the air over her shoulder to be your focal point.
There was a prodding at the top of your wound, and you hissed.
“I can’t say I’m a fan myself.”
Something pierced through your skin, and your midriff exploded in pain.
The edges of your sight went fuzzy, stars forming in the corners of your vision. Someone that sounded suspiciously like you cried out. Your cheek rammed up against something solid and warm.
Once the initial sting had faded, you realized that you’d slumped into Ellie, your face buried into her neck. She didn’t make any move to push you off, instead just taking one hand to brush up and down your arm with a feather light touch.
“You're fine," she said firmly. "Everything's going to be fine."
Your fingers curled around the hem of her shirt as the needle exited through the other end of your wound, pulling another whine from your throat. It was easier to not feel like you were about to pass out when you were crushed into Ellie, clinging onto her and just focusing on the way she felt against you.
“Hang on, I'm almost there,” she muttered a few stitches later. You’d quieted down, only letting out the occasional gasp as she pulled the thread through. “You're doing so well. Just one more.”
Now that you were more conscious, you had no idea how she was managing to stitch your side while you were nearly on her lap, but she continued to weave her needle through your skin, pulling it taut.
“And done,” said Ellie. You felt her take another cotton square to swipe against your skin.
You laid against her for a few more moments, panting as the shock slowly began to fade. She shifted, and for a moment you were sure that she was going to shove you away, but then the hand she’d lifted hesitantly rested on your head, her fingers parting to card through your hair.
“How did you learn how to do that?” you asked, your voice muffled from where you were pressed against her.
“Trial and error.”
Her joke was enough for you to finally let go, sitting back against the wall. Her hand slithered out of your hair, resting back in her lap.
“Shut up,” you said. “That’s awful.”
Ellie shrugged.
“I’m sorry,” you said, feeling the bumpiness of the stony wall press into your back. “I have a really low pain tolerance.”
“So I’ve noticed,” said Ellie, the side of her mouth quirking.
“I’ve never been hurt before,” you heard yourself saying. “Like, beyond the occasional splinter or bee sting or accidental scrape or ankle sprain. It’s just not something that happens.”
“Must be nice.”
You smiled sadly. “Yeah. It’s not nice being weak, though.”
Ellie looked away from you then, silent as she packed up the first-aid kit. Then: “I don’t think that’s true.”
She’d said it lightly, like it was meant to be an offhand comment, a throwaway addition that wouldn’t be remembered by either of you. But the sentiment still struck you, twisting your heart.
You were less capable because your survival had never required anything more. You were weak because you could be.
Her voice from the night she’d been high floated back to you. You haven't had to harden up like everyone else I know.
Out here, weakness was a luxury few could afford.
“Not so untouched anymore, huh?” you said, since you didn’t know how else to respond.
“I won’t tell anyone if you don’t,” quipped Ellie. “But if I were you, I wouldn’t lose sleep over it. I still consider needing to be held to get 4 stitches as being soft. You haven’t changed a bit. No offense.”
Your cheeks burned bright red. “I—”
“I’m teasing,” she said before you could defend yourself. “Arrow wounds suck. I get it.”
“Right.” You turned away, keeping your gaze fixed firmly on the ground beside you. With feeling more yourself came the inevitable shame at what you’d just done. What had you been thinking, touching her like that? Grabbing onto her like that?
This was going to haunt you for the rest of your life.
“Don’t make that face,” said Ellie. “I’m sorry for saying that. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. It really is fine.”
It was not fine. It would never be fine. You wanted the thugs to come back to life and finish you off, and then have the earth open up and swallow you for good measure.
Ellie probably thought of you as an overgrown child. You doubted that there was ever a point where she could see you as anything equal. If she ever knew how often she appeared in your imagination, she’d probably be disgusted.
She called you pretty a contrarian voice in your head reminded you. Don't you remember?
But maybe she hadn’t meant it. She hadn’t said it explicitly: “Y/N, I think you’re pretty.” She just hadn’t argued when you’d pointed it out. Maybe because she was being nice, or maybe because she was actually being sarcastic.
“You were really brave, okay?” said Ellie. “Your first armed confrontation and you did well.”
“I didn’t shoot anyone.”
“It could have gone worse,” said Ellie. “You could’ve accidentally shot me. Or died. And neither of those things happened, so that’s successful in my book.”
“That’s very glass half-full of you.”
“That’s me. Ever the optimist.”
You snorted.
~
That night, Ellie knocked on your door and asked you if you were up for another movie. You found yourself sitting on her comforter, plugging in your computer and booting it up minutes later.
Physically speaking, it had always been a little awkward to fit two people on her twin bed if they weren’t right next to each other, given that your laptop screen was a very unimpressive size. When you’d first started watching with her, Ellie would rest against the headboard, her legs stretched out in front of you while you would sit with your legs crossed, positioned sideways so you weren’t accidentally pushing her legs off.
But after the day you had had, your back was sore and your whole body ached. Sitting on something soft without any back support as you angled yourself to look at the screen was quickly proving unsustainable.
“Pause,” said Ellie about ten minutes in. You’d been watching an older sci-fi flick—Ellie’s choice.
You complied, leaning forward and pressing the spacebar. “What’s up?”
“Are you even comfortable sitting like that?”
“Yeah,” you said.
“Liar,” accused Ellie, crossing her arms over her chest. “Don’t think I don’t see you ‘discreetly’ cracking your back every 2 minutes. It’s ruining the movie.”
“Sorry,” you said, shaking your head and smiling in exasperation. “It’s from all the years I spent hunched over a textbook.”
“You know, you can sit up here,” she said, patting the space beside her. “I don’t bite.”
“Jury’s still out on that,” you said, though by the time Ellie let out a laugh you were already unfolding your legs and moving so you were next to her.
She leaned forward, grabbing the bottom half of the laptop and lifting it. “Hey, do you want a blanket?”
“Sure.”
Ellie’s other hand grabbed the edge of her comforter and held it up.
Hesitantly, you slid your legs under and watched as Ellie did the same, awkwardly holding the laptop in the air before you were both settled enough to rest it on your covered right thigh and her left. “Better?”
When you nodded, she reached her tattooed arm out and pressed play. The audio picked back up, but you couldn’t for the life of you focus on the movie.
When Ellie had asked if you’d wanted a blanket, you were expecting her to toss the throw blanket that would really only fit one person at you, not invite you to get under the blankets with her. That was significantly more intimate.
You two were sitting close enough that your sides were touching, from shoulder to thigh. You could feel her chest lift with each breath, feel the heat coming off of her.
After a while, Ellie properly laid down, taking the laptop and hoisting it up so it rested on her lower abdomen as she settled into her pillow.
You gulped, your eyes flickering between her face and the screen. Ellie’s gaze was fixed intently on the screen, her eyes half lidded with exhaustion.
You could be tired too. You weren’t, of course—your heart was racing a thousand miles an hour. But she didn’t know that. It was normal to lay down next to her, right? You’d done that with Irena more times than you could count, and it was never weird. Yeah, you could do that.
Also, if you were totally horizontal, you would stop getting distracted by the sliver of her skin that her crooked shirt showed of her chest.
In a moment of blind courage, you scooted down so your head was lying right next to Ellie’s. She didn’t seem to react, just extending her hand from under the covers to steady the laptop as it wobbled from the movement.
Her sheets smelled like the soap that you used to wash your hair—a cottony freshness that had the slightest hint of lavender.
“Are you going to fall asleep on me?” asked Ellie after a while, her voice nothing more than a whisper.
“I could ask you the same thing,” you responded, equally quiet. Then, because you hadn’t made enough rash decisions for the night, you angled your head so it rested in the space right above her shoulder.
She inhaled sharply but didn’t move. On her next exhale a piece of her auburn hair tickled your forehead.
“How’re your stitches?” she asked suddenly, like she'd just remembered.
“They’re okay. I think. As stitches go.”
“After this is over, I’ll check on them,” she said. “Don’t let me forget, okay?”
“Okay,” you whispered, suddenly feeling shy. It was one thing for her to cut off your shirt and see your skin when she was trying to save your life while you were mentally gone. It was another thing altogether to pull up your shirt without adrenaline coursing through you.
You didn’t pay any attention to the rest of the movie, instead hyperfocused on the rhythm of Ellie’s breathing and the fact that if you moved just a little your chin would be on her shoulder.
Her mention of the stitches wasn’t helping at all, either. Now all you could think about was the embarrassing way you’d basically tried to crawl under her skin, burying your face into her and clutching at her clothes like you were a child.
A part of you was disappointed that you hadn’t been more lucid at the time. If you had, you would’ve been able to clearly remember the softness of her skin against yours. You would’ve been able to enjoy it for what it was—the only time you’d be able to touch her like that.
Because you couldn’t go around just grabbing onto her shirt and getting into her lap. That was a one-off, the only time that the rules were waived. You couldn’t touch her like that now, now that you didn’t have any excuse. It wasn’t allowed.
But sometimes you wanted to so badly that it hurt.
The movie ended abruptly, wrenching you out of your thoughts.
“Hey,” whispered Ellie. “Sit up so I can see.”
Reluctantly, you pressed yourself up from your back and began rolling up the hem of your shirt. Ellie twisted to face backwards, her thin top riding up and showing part of her back as she reached for the lamp.
Once golden light returned to the room, Ellie turned back and bumped your hands away. She bent over, tilting her head so that she was looking at the stitches straight on.
They didn’t look bad, you had to admit. Though you wouldn’t consider the actual experience of getting the stitches a 5-star experience, Ellie had clearly known what she was doing. The surrounding flesh didn’t look angry or irritated, and she’d pulled the stitches just tight enough without it puckering.
She prodded at the side, then gave a satisfied nod. “Looks good. What did I tell you? I’m really good at this sort of stuff.”
“I think you would’ve made a really good doctor,” you said once she’d sat up straight again. “Under different circumstances.”
“Is this you telling me that you don’t think I’m a good doctor now?” she teased.
“Your bedside manner could use some work,” you offered.
Ellie laughed then, shaking her head and crossing her arms over her chest. “Yeah, yeah. You lived. You'll get over it.”
“Did you go to school?” you found yourself asking, hung up on the thought of Ellie as a potential medical student. If she’d been in one of your intro biology classes, you never would’ve been able to pay attention. That was a fantasy you could shelve away for later.
“Sort of,” said Ellie, looking down at her arms. “I went to a military prep school run by FEDRA. I didn’t graduate though—obviously. I was long gone by then.”
“Right,” you said, remembering that she’d mentioned that she’d been 14 when she’d left Boston. “And what was it like?”
She paused, opening her mouth before closing it. “It was—unkind. Joel's told me about schools before the outbreak. It was nothing like that. There were some normal classes, but most of it was meant to prepare us to be soldiers.”
“Is that where you learned how to do sutures?”
“Among other things.”
Terranova had no military academies, given that there was hardly any military presence. The founder of Terranova had bodyguards and there was a police force that controlled the borders, but it was nothing like Ellie described. With invisible borders and a social order that valued peace and tranquility over all else, there was no real danger posed to any of the citizens.
But from what you had learned from movies and books and comments from older people, you had gathered a very dim picture of what a military academy looked like—harsh, strict, and cruel.
“I’m sorry you had to grow up like that,” you said.
“It’s okay.”
“Is there anything you would want to study? If you could?”
Ellie’s eyes closed. “Yeah. There are a couple things.”
She did not elaborate.
~
It didn’t take long for you two to settle back into your routine of meeting in her room each evening and watching one of your downloaded movies. Following the night after you’d gotten your stitches, you wouldn’t even have to ask—Ellie would pull up her comforter and let you slide in next to her without giving you a second glance.
You’d also gotten over the fear of touching her. Now, when you flopped back so your head was on her pillow, you’d adjust until you were nestled into the crook of her neck. She never once reacted to it, remaining perfectly still unless she was adjusting the laptop or messing with the sound.
Because it was normal, of course. You and Irena would rest your head on each other’s shoulders sometimes. That was something that friends did.
One night a week or so into April, you and Ellie made a harrowing discovery: there was only one movie left in your collection that you two hadn’t seen together.
“Damn,” said Ellie, furrowing her brow. “And there’s no way to get more on here?”
“I’m afraid not,” you said, frowning. “To download more or stream one, I’d need either an Ethernet cable or a wi-fi connection. Neither of which function out here anymore without cell towers and maintained cables.”
“Right,” said Ellie, though her face told you that she didn’t understand a word that had come out of your mouth. “So—this is it?”
“Yeah.” Your finger hovered over the play button. “Savor it, I guess.”
When you settled back and into her side, the heavy weight of dread settled into your stomach. Now that you’d finished showing her your entire collection, it’s not like she’d have a reason to invite you over every night. And there was especially no reason for you two to lie so closely together unless you were both trying to watch something on a small screen.
Once again, your excuse to touch her was gone.
You pressed closer to her as your mind raced. There was no way that Ellie didn’t see what you were doing as platonic, right? Was it possible that she was creeped out by how touchy you were but just tolerated it to be nice?
Maybe. You swallowed hard, keeping your eyes fixed on the screen. Ellie didn’t see you like…like that. She spoke to you like you were an obligation, a burden. Because you always had been. You’d been a responsibility thrust on her by a father figure who felt like he was indebted to you from that stupid bag of coffee you were lucky enough to bring.
Oh, god. Had Joel told her to befriend you? Had he asked for Ellie to pretend like she enjoyed spending time with you and to put up with your privileged, soft-hearted nonsense?
The knowledge that you were spiraling wasn’t enough to stop you. You did the best that you could—tried to remind yourself that it’d been a while since she’d looked disgusted with you, recall that she was outspoken enough to tell you to fuck off if you did something she didn’t like—but it was to no avail.
Ellie reached forward and hit pause on the movie, thrusting you both into silence.
“Is everything okay?” she asked after a moment.
“Yeah, why?”
“I can feel your heart going, like, crazy fast.”
You froze. “Oh. Uh, yeah. I was just thinking.”
Ellie pushed the laptop off of her, sitting up to give you an odd look. “About a near death experience or something? You running a marathon up there? That shit’s not normal.”
You laughed nervously. “It’s really nothing. Just an, uh, suspenseful movie.”
Which was actually really stupid of you to say, because you were watching some obscure Tarkovsky film that did nothing but pan over burning buildings and pensive men. For the past 5 minutes, there had been nothing on screen but the back of a car driving through traffic with minimal sound. Also, it was in Russian, and the English subtitles made zero sense.
There was a reason why this was the last movie you chose.
“This is the most boring fucking movie I’ve ever watched in my life, so you’re a dirty fucking liar,” said Ellie. Then her face pinched in worry. “Wait. Have you taken a look at your stitches lately?”
Before you could answer, she was grabbing a flashlight off her nightstand and yanking the comforter off you. She was pulling your shirt up when you finally found your voice.
“Wait!” you said, grabbing the bottom of your shirt and yanking it back in place. “It’s not—I don’t have an infection, okay? There’s nothing wrong with me. I really was just thinking, okay?”
“About what?” She reached back to place her flashlight back on the stand without taking her eyes off you.
“It’s nothing important.”
“If you say so.”
She picked the laptop up and placed it back on her thighs, lying back down. You followed suit, but this time you didn’t touch her, opting to keep as much distance as you could so she wouldn’t hear the stuttering of your heart.
Not even 5 minutes had passed before Ellie sat up to pause the video again.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
“No. Why?”
“You’re acting weird,” she accused, but there wasn’t much conviction behind her voice.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that you’re acting weird,” she repeated, shutting your laptop off and moving it to the bottom of her bed, despite the protests that left your lips.
“I don’t understand,” you said. “I’m just watching the movie. I’m not doing anything. “
“You’re not watching the movie,” she said. “You weren’t even looking at the screen. What’s got you so bothered? Did I do something?”
“Of course not.” You pulled your legs under you so your legs were crossed and your back was against the wall. “You don’t need to worry. It’s honestly fine. I’m sorry if I’ve done something to imply otherwise.”
Ellie rubbed the bridge of her nose, sighing. “You stress me out. You can just tell me, you know? No need to be so cagey. I promise I’ve heard worse.”
“Don’t be so quick to say that.”
“Okay, now you have to tell me,” she said. “I’m never going to know peace again with a hook like that.”
You were about to open your mouth to tell her that it was stupid and that it didn’t matter, but something stopped you.
That was the coward’s way out. That’s what you’d always done—hid your feelings and concealed your emotions. That’s how you’d been raised. That’s how you thought everyone was. But now that you’d spent 2 months in Jackson, you’d realized that some people actually just said what they thought. And that, in the grand scheme of things, it was a better system than the Terranovian culture of superficiality.
Just because the you 2 months ago would have shook her head and changed the subject didn’t mean the you now had to.
Maybe this you could be different. Maybe, for once, this you could be brave.
“I really—” You stopped yourself. Saying I really like you didn’t even begin to encompass what you felt for the girl sitting across from you. To distill the sheer magnitude of your feelings down to four words felt criminal. The swell in your chest that never went away whenever you were near her could never and would never be adequately represented in the puny offerings of the Latin alphabet and the English language, and if you were going to do this, you were going to do it right.
You dared to look up at her for a moment. She was completely still, her green eyes reflecting the dim moonlight from outside. Once you met her gaze, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull it away.
“I’m really sorry that I’m putting you in an uncomfortable position for saying this,” you began (because old habits ran deep, and you would rather die than be impolite), “And I totally understand if you don’t want to talk to me after this. And I’m sorry for not telling you earlier.”
“As much as I’m sure that this is some sort of cultural cornerstone for you, please spare me the 6 foot long disclaimer script,” Ellie drawled.
“Right.” You gulped. “Anyway. As I was saying.”
“Any day now.”
At that moment, she had never looked more perfect. Your eyes had adjusted to the dark lighting, so the weak moonlight that spilled in from the window above her created a halo around her head.
“It’s you.” Your voice came out tiny. “You’re all that I can think about, and I don’t know what to do.”
There. It was off your chest.
For a moment, it was as if you’d suspended time, stopping Earth on its axis as you both held your breaths. There was nothing but silence and the occasional wooden creak of the old house’s foundation in the wind.
Ellie’s face betrayed nothing, save for something in her eyes and the disappearance of the smirk that had been on her lips moments before.
Then she spoke, her response whispered.
“Come here, then.”
final a/n: NOW HOLD ON before you show up outside my dorm with pitchforks and torches 🗣️🗣️🗣️ i'm so sorry but this was a necessary evil as this was going to a massive scene without the chapter break. also a disproportionately massive chapter compared to the other ones coming out. i write very quickly and should get the following part out in a timeframe similar to the first 3 parts. thank u for reading ! tell me what you think abt this chapter while you wait x
#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x you#ellie williams x y/n#ellie williams self insert#ellie williams x oc#ellie williams fluff#ellie williams imagine
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God so much of queer discourse I see is just people being idiots about linguistic technicalities, and other, at the very least well meaning, idiots trying to correct those first idiots on their own terms.
"bi lesbian is a contradiction, because lesbians can't be attracted to men"
"actually bi lesbian ISN'T a contradiction because bi doesn't *necessarily* mean being attracted to men"
you're never going to make any progress like this.
I do not give a shit about what the word "lesbian" means, i do not care what definition i will see if i look up the word in a dictionary.
you're not gonna have a "gotcha" moment where you catch someone's fucking *identity* in a logical contradiction like a god damn witness testimony, andd you don't need to retroactively justify why what someone else thinks is a contradiction, actually *isn't*.
there is exactly one rule for being queer:
do what you want forever
He/Him lesbians aren't okay because "some lesbians feel a connection to masculinity"
He/him lesbians are okay because anyone can use whatever pronouns they want forever.
actually no that's wrong, He/Him lesbians don't *NEED* to be "okay" in the first place.
I do not care if a queer microlabel is "valid" or not. They don't need justification. They don't need your permission to exist, they don't need my permission to exist. They are not guilty until proven innocent of not being "valid"
you don't just need to kill the cop in your head, you need to kill the *defense lawyer* in your head.
There aren't certain technicalities where it's ever gonna be okay for someone to be discriminated against. You don't need to means test and justify your view of "validity"
keeping with this stupid metaphor, you don't need to defend your client on the cop's terms, because no one should be going to jail to begin with.
if lesbians *didn't* feel a connection to masculinity would it not be okay for them to use whatever god damn pronouns they felt like?
if a bi lesbian *WAS* attracted to a man would they have to hand in their fucking lesbian card, like being a lesbian is an exclusive club you need to ask permission to join??
god there's a lot of discourse over the linguistic minutae of lesbians.
anyway none of this fucking matters because you have to just do what you want forever, and let other people do the same. there is no more to it than that.
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Hi!
I saw the post about how to filter out terfs from reblogs on here and I had one loosely related question to what was said in the post.
The part about reeducating people who believe that queer is a slur.
What's the metric on that, who's the person you mean by that? Suspected terfs? Anyone who has a problem with it at all?
And what re-education is the case there, is it making the person aware of the connection to the phrase? Or something else?
Thanks!
Gotta admit, the tone of this ask doesn't seem like it's entirely in good faith, but I'm going to treat it like it is, just in case you don't know that this ask kind of comes across like a none-too-subtle accusation.
A lot of younger people don't know that 'queer is a slur' is TERF-sponsored propaganda meant as a tool to help break the community apart. A lot of them, in my experience, are fucking horrified to realize that they were repeating something that got astroTERFed into the community as an attempt to make people declare 'what kind of queer you are' so that people can pick the identities of others apart: oh, you're not a lesbian because transmascs can't be lesbians. oh, you're not X because [thing I made up], etc. It's been my experience that a lot of people who aren't aware that this is something that's been actively pursued, even if they don't like the word applied to themselves, understand what an important historical and identity word it is to our community. It's also been my experience that most of the people saying 'queer is a slur' are doing so in good faith because they are trying to help and protect their community, so when you say 'hey, did you know,' you can have a conversation with them, and if they have personal issues with the word as applied to themselves, if they're acting in good faith towards their community, it's pretty easy to find a way through that respects the identities, tastes, traumas and preferences of everybody involved.
I don't believe I used the word 'reeducating,' because 'reeducation' has some mildly negative brainwashing connotations, to put it mildly. I can't find the original post, though, so I can't verify that. Certainly if I used it, that was an error and I won't again. Educating, teaching, explaining, sure, but reeducation carries some serious 'reeducation camp' vibes.
I don't know what else it would be other than making people aware of the active campaign to make queer an untouchably bad word and having a conversation with them. If we're all coming to these things in good faith, what else would it be? :)
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i once saw a tiktok and i dont remember the exact topic now, but the op (a lesbian) was responding to a comment that said something like "oh we're all queer we need to stand together" and the op said "No. What she is saying does not align with queer liberation. Queer is more than just your sexuality, it is a political ideology. Its all of us or none of us. If you are transphobic, biphobic, arophobic, or anything else like those, you aren't queer, you're just a girl that likes girls." (i believe the video the comment was left on was the op calling out another lesbian for being transphobic?)
and that stuck w/ me and thats also how i think abt lgbt+ vs queer. so very similar to your definitions i think?
that's a huge fucking mood. IN MY OPINION i think that identifying as queer is inherently political. i think if you're going to identify as queer, you should not only align with the politics of the movement but you should put the work in to further the movement. i think that with the rise of the internet came this sense of extreme individuality where calling yourself something didn't really have to mean anything. you could call yourself queer because you liked the word or because you liked to fuck with gender, because you saw it somewhere and didn't get the full context and history of the word queer and why it was chosen as the word we chose to reclaim. i've encountered a lot of people who get really upset when people say that queer is a political identity, because they identify as queer and they don't want their identity being politicized!! but like. that's literally the entire point of the word queer!!! it's bizarre to me that ppl will gatekeep the word lesbian until the last human being on earth has died despite the fact there is no set and universal definition of the word lesbian. but a word that has specific origins and an explicit connection to a liberation movement that requires rejection of binaries, assimilation, white supremacy, and patriarchy, suddenly they're like it's just a word!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
ok that's my queer rant.
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Buckley brainrot is SO REAL rn so here’s some thots HAVE FUN
Imagining going to a romance movie with Robin and she insists y’all sit in the back so you do and you’re now halfway through the movie and her hand is under your skirt and she’s already coaxed out one or two orgasms from you and she’s trying to make it a record and you’re biting your lip so hard to keep the moans in and she says
“Gotta be quiet baby, someone can turn around and see the mess you’re making.”
And when the movie finishes you get up and start blushing as you gently push Robin to usher her out quickly so no one asks about the wet spot on your seat and I-😵💫
robin buckley x fem!reader
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1225
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ mature content! (MDNI), (semi?) public sex, fingering, squirting, petnames, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, not proofread
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: sorry for my other asks still waiting in my inbox but this one had to be prioritized for all the amazing writing @maladaptive-day-dreams has done for me in the past few days!!
the robin brainrot is REAL- this was supposed to be a 300-500 word drabble but i got a little too carried away with your request-
when she first put her palm to your thigh you didn't mind.
it wasn't often that she got physical with you in public, hawkins in the 80s most definitely isn't the place and time for lesbians.
but in the darkness of the movie theatre, it felt safe enough.
your seats are in the very back of the room, and, besides, hardly anyone else is at the movies today.
you've seen a young couple somewhere close to front row and maybe a handful of other people.
but none of them are close enough to see the hand on your leg.
and they aren't close enough to see the way robin moves closer to you until she has her lips pressed against your neck, leaving a trail of hot and wet kisses.
"robin" you hiss under your breath. "we can't-"
but when her hand moves further up your leg you shut it, your hips rolling against her for more.
your girlfriend chuckles against your neck as she caresses your skin-
"yeah..." she mumbles at that first hip roll. "that's what i thought"
you know just how wet you are when she presses her fingers to your pantie-covered entrance and looks at you with mock surprise.
"who would've known" she whispers. "that y/n y/l/n was into getting fucked in the movie theatre..."
"i- uhm- I'm not"
but there really is no point denying it when she pulls your panties down your spread legs and pockets them, before using her index- and middle finger to spread you open for her.
"and you're so fucking wet too" robin's raspy voice is right next to your ear.
you can't see her hand, your skirt turns out to be an amazing cover for what's happening underneath, you can only feel it when she spreads your lips apart and dips a finger down to your entrance.
you gasp and she hushes you immediately.
"shit gotta be quiet for me..." she looks around but no one seems to be paying any attention.
"we wouldn't want them to hear"
now what you think she means is that she will turn this into a quick little thing before focusing her attention back on the movie.
you think she will make quick work of flicking your clit and finish you off in record time.
what you don't think is that she will fuck you through multiple orgasms in a now, without stopping for once.
after your first orgasm, you are sweat soaked and have a hand thrown over your mouth to hold back the noise.
you look at her as if you're expecting her to withdraw her hand.
she doesn't.
robin gives you a wicked grin and pumps her fingers into you again.
your eyes widen in surprise and you bite down on your hand.
you mouth a "robin...please"
but robin knows better. she knows you want this and she can tell by the way her fingers meet no resistance at all that you don't just want but need to cum again.
your walls flutter around her skilled fingers at one particularly deep thrust.
you're thankful for the loud volume of the movie that's playing.
otherwise, the whole room would hear the wet noises from between your thighs.
with your eyes rolling back and your grip tightening around the armrest of your seat, you cum again.
you arch your back off of your seat and bite down on your lip so hard you're almost certain it'll draw blood.
robin watches in amazement, her fingers gathering all of your cum and arousal and pushing it right back into your aching cunt.
you squirm when she pushes them back inside and a small whimper falls from your lips.
it's all becoming too much and yet not nearly enough to feed your hunger for more...more of her touch, more of those sensations that are washing over you like waves...more of robin.
robin, whose brows furrow when you whimper. regardless of how quiet it is, she stops her movements for a second to warn you;
"gotta be quiet baby, someone can turn around and see the mess you’re making"
and you sure are making a mess, your wetness running down your thighs and soaking right through the thin fabric of the skirt and into the seat.
she pulls out of you and collects your arousal on her fingertips, moving upwards.
you nod your head, willing to do anything robin asks of you as long as this does not stop.
you can feel your overstimulated cunt throbbing, but you want to give her that.
you want to make robin proud and give her one more. you know it's there, coiling in your lower abdomen as she circles your clit slowly.
"will...will be so quiet" you breathe, with your head falling back against the wall behind you. "please"
"oh i know you will" she smiles. "good girl"
and, as she says it, robin pushes her fingers back into you, watching every single one of your reactions.
"you're gonna give me one more yeah...? yeah...?" she whispers the words so sweetly, as if she isn't pushing her fingers into you, perfectly timed with every word.
and each time they seem to go deeper than before, hitting that spot of yours a little too well.
"y-yes" you nod your head with your eyes closed.
"look at me" robin mumbles. "please- i wanna see your face when i set this new record of making you cum"
under other circumstances, this remark might've earned her a giggle but you can't. you can't.
you can hardly open your eyes, but force yourself to do so anyway.
the sight in front of you is a delight; robin has been watching you the entire time and, judging by the look on her face, she's getting just as much pleasure from this.
"gonna cum...gonna cum..." you mouth, your lips parting when you feel the beginning of third orgasm washing over you
and when she angles her hand the slightest bit different, causing the heel of her hand to hit against your clit with each one of her thrusts, you cum. hard.
so fucking hard that you lose control over all your body does. you throw your palm over your mouth to hold back the moans, wishing robin could hear how good she's making you feel.
but robin doesn't need to hear, not when she can feel and see.
the last thing you notice before everything does dark is a weird, new sensation of fluids leaving your body and gushing against her hand.
your orgasm is still rippling through you but you are aware enough to be extremely embarrassed for this mess.
"oh my god- oh my god-" you whisper, brought back to reality by that feeling.
you are mortified and bring your palms up to hide your face.
but robin looks down at you in amazement.
"holy shit y/n..." she whispers. "fuck- that was- that was the hottest thing ever"
"i- i never did this before i-" you stutter. "it's-"
but robin grabs your wrists and pushes you up.
"i need to have you...right now...screw this movie..."
she pulls you out of the seat and walks first, leading the way out of the cinema.
all you can do is turn around one last time to see the mess you've made on the seat.
god, you really hope no one will ask about it on your way out.
#robinsno1lesbian drabbles#robin buckley#robin buckley x reader#robin buckley x you#robin buckley x y/n#robin buckley x fem!reader#robin buckley x female reader#robin buckley smut#robin buckley drabble
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moron
90s trey parker x fem!reader (y/n)
warnings: angst, indirect sexual harassment, implied alcohol & drug use, smut (vaginal penetration), virginity loss, violence (trey gets smacked for being a a perv)
notes: first person perspective (I, me, my, etc.); the beginning is kind of rough so just bear with me. also this is a oneshot but oh my god why is it so fucking long; he looks like such a faggot in the image its so funny
word count: SEVEN THOUSAND ONE HUNDRED NINETY FOUR (7194)
—
“Truth or dare?”
“Truth,” Trey responded, seemingly not wanting to risk getting any more messed up on another dare. His temples looked sweaty and his entire body was limp and relaxed, flush with the back of his chair. I, personally, was miles away. I was the only girl left at this party (if you could even call it a “party”; there were only about seven people at this point) and it was way too late for me to be awake.
“What’s your ideal type?” Our friend, Dian, asked him. “Like the woman of your dreams.”
Matt laughed, keeping his eyes closed as he too was completely relaxed and almost melting into the couch. I kept my gaze on Trey, watching his lips curl into a devilish smile as he finished his thought process and formed an answer.
“Virgin,” He said simply. Something about his tone and the way his face looked as he and the other guys laughed it out made my face burn up. Not in a good way. I wanted to shoot myself in the head.
Matt, Trey, and a few other guys all just chuckled, seemingly agreeing with each other. It was like I wasn’t even there. Granted, I barely was, and in their defense, none of them could have known that I myself had never had sex before. But I figured this was a conversation they would save for a “boy’s night.” Maybe they were too far from sober to care.
“It can’t be that good,” Dian argued. I wasn’t entirely sure if he had actually ever had sex or not either. Not that I cared. I didn’t know him that well anyway.
“It is,” Matt and Trey said in unison. My gaze stuck to my hands in my lap, trying to check out of the conversation and humming What’s Up? while plugging one of my ears. It wasn’t uncommon for the boys to be pervy like this even while I’m around, but ever since I moved in with them, it’s been happening way more often and it was starting to get old.
“It’s insane,” Matt said calmly, tilting his head back. “They get so worked up over basically nothing.”
“Drenched in like, two seconds,” Trey added.
For some reason, I felt betrayed. I didn’t really care what Matt had to say; I knew he got around a lot and I’m pretty sure he thought I was lesbian anyway. Trey’s words hit me harder. We’d been friends since we were 16 and he’d stood up for me on multiple occasions, when drunk assholes at bars or parties would try to make moves on me. Maybe he just wanted to show off. He was being ignorant at my expense.
I cracked my knuckles and tilted my head to pop my neck on either side, not getting any sense of relief or a satisfying pop in any of my efforts. I was still tense and stiff. I was still uncomfortable.
“Dude and once you get in there… fuck, man,” Matt mumbled, hitting his fist against the coffee table.
Trey nodded, grinning. “That’s the best fucking part-”
The blonde yelped slightly as my hand collided with the back of his head, causing his entire body to jerk forward and the room to go quiet.
“I’m a virgin, you asshole!” I shouted, staring down at him. His eyes held a pretty intense look of shock, fear, and anger, before subtly shifting more towards a guilty, cowardly look. “Just ‘cause I live here now doesn’t mean you guys can talk about shit like that in front of me! Wait till I’m asleep or something, fuck!”
By the time my sentence was almost over, I had tears streaming down my face. I instantly regretted hitting him, but I’d already reacted before I even thought about how I was going to react. All the nights where I went to bed irritated and just let them talk like that were just piling up and finally toppled over. My feet carried me to my bedroom before my hands slammed the door shut behind me. I paced around, waving my hands and forcing deep breaths through my nose as I cried.
The panic came from the shock of my own reaction. I can’t believe I hit him. That was so embarrassing too, the way I’d yelled and started crying right after. They must all think I’m psycho.
I let my hair out of my claw clip and threw it on the floor, taking deep breath after deep breath until I stopped crying and my eyes were puffy. I still very much felt that swell in my throat that threatened more tears. I was far from done crying, but I forced myself to stop before my makeup got any more fucked up and I looked like a pile of sad shit.
Why did I even care? I lived there. It shouldn’t have mattered to me how I looked. I could kick those people out if I wanted to. They didn’t have to see my face, red, puffy and wet from tears.
“Y/N?” I heard an unmistakable voice outside my door. I knew exactly who it was. “It’s Trey, um… Can you let me in?”
I swallowed back the remaining tears, rolling my eyes before wiping my face on the black baby tank I was wearing. I stood in the doorway as I opened the door, preventing him from taking any steps further into my space. His head immediately snapped up from looking at his feet to looking in my eyes, where he likely found the most annoyed, unamused, impatient, pissed off gaze he’d ever seen.
“M-Matt told me to apologize,” He mumbled, looking down at his hands as they fidgeted with themselves. His blonde hair was messy and hung low over his face, partially covering his eyes and eyebrows.
“Hmph. At least Matt can read a room,” I muttered. I knew that Trey could read a room too, it just was that, more often than not, he didn’t care to and liked to push people’s boundaries sometimes. Now was one of those rare situations where he crossed the line before Matt could stop him.
This only made Trey more ashamed, it seemed. He laughed slightly, his face smushed into his palms.
“It’s not funny,” I told him, crossing my arms. My heart had started beating faster since I’d stopped crying. I wasn’t sure if I was gonna cry again, if I was mad at Trey, or something else. “You’re fucking gross. All of you.”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry,” He said, clearing his throat. “I’m sorry.”
His apology still felt fake. I knew he was shit at apologizing, since it was pretty much against what he stood for, but you would think he’d be able to apologize to his best friend of almost ten years. Then again, maybe I overestimated him.
“...Have you been crying?” Trey asked cautiously.
“No, this is the funniest thing that has ever happened to me. YES, I’ve been crying, fucking dick,” I mumbled. “You’ve been the person I trust the most for the past nine years and suddenly that feeling is long gone. It’s kind of fucking heartbreaking, Trey. I can’t even look at you without feeling gross.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. Trey just looked down, swallowing harshly as he rubbed the back of his head. That reminded me.
“Bet that hurts,” I said coldly. I hid the genuine concern I felt for him behind my harsh tone, not wanting him to know that I did feel guilty about hitting him. I just hoped he knew that he kind of deserved it.
“Yeah, like a bitch,” He laughed. “Not the worst I’ve taken, though.”
“I can hit you harder,” I offered, shrugging.
“If I say something gross will you hit me as hard as you can?” He asked me, caressing his chin as he thought. Somehow he’d managed to distract me from why I was even upset. I let him in my room and closed the door behind me, nodding in response to his question as I prepared my hand.
“Okay, um…” he said. He sounded antsy and… excited. I was starting to feel a little better; maybe this was his way of entertaining me in order to stop me from being upset anymore.
He did this when we were teenagers too. He’d do stupid things to himself or make fun of himself to make me laugh. Trey rarely ever confronted me about my feelings and asked what was wrong. He would just try to fix it. We were a lot closer back then; many nights I’d accidentally fall asleep against him after crying for several hours. His arms around me, hands stroking my hair, heart beating against mine…
Now we were adults and everything had to be crude all the time. The true “man” in him really started to shine through once I began hanging out with him and Matt, and eventually started living with them. I guess the fact that I was a virgin somehow never came up between me and Trey or anybody, really. I had no girl friends.
“Hmm… You’re taking too long. I don’t wanna hit you anymore,” I stated, turning towards my door. I never wanted to hit you in the first place.
“No, no! Wait, just wait. Hold on,” he told me, holding my forearm. He was much closer to me now, having pulled me away from the door as he grabbed me and subconsciously held me closer. I felt my cheeks turn red as he leaned in, giggling slightly, and whispered, “I bet your… I bet you would… you’d feel so good, um, wrapped… wrapped around… I don’t know.”
Trey couldn’t even get through the sentence without laughing, pausing every few words to giggle. Unfortunately, his laughter was contagious and caused me to start giggling as well. His hand moved up to my upper arm as his forehead met my shoulder.
“You fucking dick,” I said, relaxing my hands. My arms slid over his waist to wrap around his torso. “I hate you. Don’t say shit like that again.”
His laughter calmed and he leaned back, looking in my eyes. “I won’t. I-I am really sorry. I’m sure Matt is too. We didn’t know-”
“I know. It’s fine,” I said, almost whispering. “And I don’t really give a fuck about Matt. It’s you that I think needs to be taught a lesson.”
Trey’s face lit up slightly, his wide eyes widening further. The blonde grew a devilish smirk. “And what lesson is that? Sharing is caring? Treat others how you wanna be treated?”
“To shut up once in a while,” I said, putting my hand over his mouth. “You might get more girls if you’re not constantly making jokes about how tight their vagina is, hm?”
Trey scoffed. “I don’t need ‘girls’. I’ll have you someday,” he stated, poking my nose with his fingertip.
My hand met his cheek in a lighter, but still harsh, playful slap, before I let go of him and took a step back. “Excuse me?” I laughed, feeling my face burn again. This time, in a good way.
“The only girl I need is right in front of me,” He beamed, clear mischief present in his eyes. “And… And I know I’ve messed up a few times but I’m still waiting for her. I always have been.”
Suddenly his tone became softer and more serious. His smile was replaced with a nervous bite of his lower lip.
Tonight was a fucking roller coaster and I felt like I didn’t have a seatbelt on.
“Trey…” I squeaked, watching as he took a single step closer to me.
He ignored me. “And I feel like an idiot around her. I am an idiot,” He laughed, swallowing harshly. His eyes darted around my face, looking for my reaction. I was frozen in shock. “And now I’m messing it up again.”
“She’s here,” I said softly, holding my arms tensely. The situation was completely foreign and completely out of left field. “She misses you. E-Even though you never really went anywhere…”
I backed up against the wall next to my door. “And she feels safe with you. Even though you’re an idiot sometimes,” I said, smiling slightly. Trey laughed and came closer to me, continuing to speak as his hands carefully caressed my waist.
“I miss her too,” He whispered, leaning closer. “And… And I wanna taste her lips so bad.”
I felt his forehead collide with mine and his body move closer, his hands softly squeezing my torso. This was not the first time we’d been in this position, believe it or not; we just didn’t go any further. That fateful night at the club after our first day at college had been blocked out from my memory for the past seven years, until right about now.
“She wants you to kiss her,” I whispered, staring at his lips. “So bad.”
Without much more hesitation, Trey leaned forward, just barely grazing my lips with his to see my reaction. More, I thought as hard as I could, hoping he’d be able to read my mind. His eyelids lowered and he smiled, kissing me again.
I exhaled, not realizing how long I’d been holding my breath. My body sort of melted as he kissed me more, his right hand moving up to caress my face while his left held tight onto me, pulling himself closer. Trey kissed me gently, but with haste.
“I guess you have a thing for virgins?” I laughed slightly, humming as he kissed me again and carefully started to lift up my shirt. I let him run his warm hands underneath the fabric and explore my body, while his mouth started to venture onto my neck and shoulders. My own hands ran through his hair, which was still slightly damp from the shower he took in the middle of the “party” he was supposed to be hosting. There was something wrong with him.
Trey lowered his voice, moving his lips right over my ear. “Sorta. Not ‘cause they're tight or anything, though,” He explained softly, tracing small circles into my hips. “If I tell you the real reason, you can’t judge me. At all.”
He pulled away from my neck, looking me in the eyes to see if I would agree. “Talk to me,” I said, twirling a strand of his hair on the back of his neck.
Trey leaned back in, pressing his nose against my forehead. “I just like the feeling of… like, feeling like I’m turning them to like, the dark side,” He said, laughing slightly at his word choice. “That’s a stupid way to put it, but y’know.”
“You like corruption,” I said simply, raising my eyebrows at him to tease him. Idiot.
“...Yes,” he said, sounding slightly unsure. “Something like that.”
“Weirdo,” I joked, pushing him off of me slightly. In reality, I sort of liked having a conversation like this with him. It made me realize how much I didn’t know about him, despite calling him my best friend for the past decade. Maybe these were the kinds of things only… more-than-friends would have.
He laughed, diving back in to kiss me while his hands worked through my hair, his teeth grazing my bottom lip.
“Have you french-kissed before?” he asked me, barely leaving me any space to answer as he kept smothering my lips with his.
“Yes, Trey. I’m not twelve,” I answered, not letting his tongue into my mouth despite his best efforts. I liked the feeling of him desperately trying to push through my lips, then giving up, then trying again.
“How would I know? A virgin at 25…” He said defensively. “You might as well be Mormon at this rate.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him. He had a weird thing about Mormons. Maybe it was related to the corruption thing. He just laughed, grabbing my jaw with his whole hand so he could stick his tongue in my mouth. Fuck. Fucking dick caught me off-guard.
I let him explore my mouth with his tongue, the muscle warm and wet; he tasted like tequila. It was fucking intoxicating.
Unfortunately, my reaction to the sensation was much more vocal than I wanted it to be. I softly moaned in bliss, his mouth attached to mine as the noise escaped me. I felt him smile and open his mouth up wider, encouraging me to take my own turn exploring his mouth. Trey’s hand slid down from my jaw onto my neck, softly grasping my throat and applying little to no pressure, just holding it. I was unsure whether he genuinely wanted to treat me like glass or if he was just holding back his violent urges and secretly wanted to choke me.
“I’m not having sex with you, by the way,” I stated, pushing him away by his chest. I tried to ignore how his lips glistened from the excessive amount of saliva built up from our exchange. His face was flushed and his eyes looked slightly sad, but tired, and definitely not sober.
“Why not?” he asked, whining. I pushed past him, taking a look at myself in the mirror. My shirt had ridden up to the middle of my ribs, my hair was messy, makeup smudged, neck and shoulders decorated with a few small bruises that I could only blame on one person. Thanks a lot, dick, I thought, scoffing.
“‘Cause you’re gross,” I stated, leaning against the edge of my bed while putting a hoodie on to cover my freshly assaulted shoulders. I pushed myself up so I was fully sitting as Trey came closer to me and got down on his knees.
“What if I let you sit on my face?” He asked, giving me puppy eyes while his hands caressed my calves. His touch was gentle and gave me butterflies.
“Tempting,” I hummed, tapping my bottom lip with my index finger. I ran my hand through his hair, as if he was about to suck my dick or something. I laughed to myself as I imagined this. Trey Parker, on his knees, sucking silicone cock. “What if you suffocate?”
“I’ll die in bliss,” He stated, tilting his head back as he reveled in the feeling of my fingers in his hair. He was really determined. I could tell that he probably wasn’t gonna give up either. Too bad, though. I wasn’t finished teasing him yet. Munch.
“You’re disgusting,” I said, raising my eyebrows matter-of-factly and flicking him in the forehead. I swung my legs to the side, standing up off the bed next to where he was kneeling. I started towards the door, waiting to hear him scramble to his feet and stop me in my tracks. He was too predictable.
“I’ve been wanting this since we were in 10th grade,” He told me, grabbing my wrist before I could open the door. “I’ll be gentle,” he added, waiting for my response. “I promise.”
“I believe you,” I said. “I trust you. You’re just not quite what I imagined for my first time.” I gave him a passive-aggressive smile of sympathy. I was full of shit, of course. Thinking about it, the only person I would ever want to take my virginity was Trey. I thought that maybe I’d been subconsciously saving it for him this entire time without even realizing.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he asked, clearly offended. He laughed it off, but his face told a different story. His cheeks were wildly flushed and his eyebrows were deeply furrowed. Was I really that convincing?
I rolled my eyes, kissing him softly. “I was joking, moron,” I said, locking my bedroom door.
It was then that he looked at me with probably the most awestruck, wide-eyed gaze I’d ever seen from him, his pupils having blown three sizes once I pulled away. I simply giggled, wrapping my arms around his neck as I kissed him again. “You have to tell me the password.”
“Password?” He asked, laughing. “Pussy password?”
“Yep. You’ll never guess it,” I stated, running my hands gently down his body.
Trey took a moment to think, looking up at the ceiling.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph McCarthy,” He guessed. My face turned red.
Fuck.
“You can’t beat me, Y/N. I’m always five steps ahead of you,” He laughed, hooking his hands under my knees to lift me up and carry me to my bed, which was a complete disaster as blankets, sheets, clothes and pillows were strewn in every direction.
“How the fuck did you guess that?” I whispered rhetorically, so shocked that I didn’t even register that he was now on top of me, having laid me down right where I usually sleep.
“You only said it like, a million times over the whole two weeks when we were reading The Crucible in English. D’you still think that’s the funniest thing ever?” He teased me, straddling my hips. I suddenly felt fatally nervous being under him. Maybe I didn’t want this. “I figured it would either be that or ‘San-Fransican Kegflip’-”
“Stop,” I choked out. “Stop for a second.”
Trey paused, confused for a fraction of a moment before shutting his mouth and moving to the side. I bent my knees, closing my legs and covering my face with my arms. I felt like I was going to cry again. For some reason, the idea of finally losing my virginity had me about ready to shit myself, I was so scared. I trusted Trey, of course, but this was just… so new. What if he sucked in bed and I was overestimating him? That would be funny, but it would probably make for the worst virginity story anyone had ever heard. You waiting ten years to fuck your best friend and it wasn’t even good? Just shoot me in the head, why don’t you.
“Sorry,” I laughed, feeling my body start to tremble.
“Don’t be, hey,” He said softly, scooting closer to me. “You don’t have to do this. We don’t have to do this. Even though I totally guessed the pussy password right on the first try.”
I could hear the boastful smile in his voice, causing me to smile too. He couldn’t see it. “Shut up,” was all I could think to say.
I could sense that he’d shut his mouth and backed off. “...Do you want me to leave?” he asked.
“No,” I answered quickly. “Please don’t.”
My body shot upward, facing him. My hands held his arms, caressing the warm skin and toned muscle as he looked at me with patient eyes. My own were welling up with tears as my entire body vibrated.
“I’m scared,” I laughed, pulling his arm as I laid back down. Trey climbed on top of me again, caressing my face and neck. I felt the lump in my throat swell as he kissed my forehead and cheeks.
“Am I scary?” He asked me, his voice soft. He didn’t make any further advances, he just kissed me a few times and held my hands.
“You wish you were,” I laughed, grinning as I found the courage to touch him again. My hands rested on either side of his neck, rubbing the soft, freckled skin of his jaw and shoulders. “I just wanna get this over with.”
“You really don’t have to do-”
“No, let’s do it,” I said, taking a deep breath. “It’s been long enough. I think we’re way past the point of no return anyway.”
I sat up, pulling him into a kiss, until he gently pushed me away by my waist, looking me deep in the eyes.
“Are you sure-”
“Please fuck me, Trey,” I whispered slowly. “Make me bad.”
The blonde just sat there, our faces inches apart, his eyes wide and absolutely dumbfounded. I wasn’t sure why he was surprised. Maybe ‘cause I smacked him twenty minutes ago for talking about wanting to take someone’s virginity.
“You can still change your mind,” he sighed, obliging and laying me down while pulling my hips up so my ass rested on the top of his lap. I could see the smirk he was trying so hard to contain. “Let’s get these off first.”
I lifted the humongous hoodie up and over my head, looking up as Trey got to work at my skirt and underwear. He removed them pretty easily, lifting my legs up so that my ankles were resting on his shoulders. I had to admit, the sight was something straight out of one of those movies. Him, still fully clothed in a snug gray T-shirt that did wonders for his chest and arms, and me, pantsless with my legs propped up on his shoulders and my bare fucking vagina on full display.
I thought I could see Trey’s eyes intentionally avoiding the area as his warm hands slid up the sides of my body from my freshly bared hips. He remained focused on my still clothed chest, my shirt riding up higher and higher as he massaged my torso. “Here,” He hummed, moving my legs so that they were wrapped around his hips.
My mind was pretty much blank as I stared at our hips, my naked crotch only inches away from his own clothed one. I was interrupted however, by a soft pair of lips pushing against my jaw so my head would tilt back.
“You look really pretty,” he mumbled sweetly, kissing my throat with basically no pressure. I hummed in bliss, running my fingers through his hair. I then laughed, realizing the irony of the situation. I’d basically just had a panic attack right before he came into my room, and now he was on top of me, telling me I looked pretty.
“Just ‘cause I trust you doesn’t mean you can lie,” I grinned, sliding my hands up his biceps and underneath his sleeves, lightly squeezing the muscle as it flexed at my touch.
“You’re so-” Trey started, a teasingly annoyed tone in his voice. “Just be quiet.”
I pulled him in for a kiss again, gently tugging on his hair. I heard him groan softly, causing my body to heat up. I’d gone further than I ever had with anyone at that point, especially once he took his shirt off.
He wasn’t exactly fit but he was definitely muscular. Light brown hairs covered his upper chest and trailed all the way down into his pants. I could see the waistband of his plaid boxers sticking out from under his jeans, held snugly to his hips by an old black belt. At that point I don’t think I was able to form coherent words anymore. I was too nervous to encourage him to keep going, but I was too excited to tell him to slow down.
“Are you okay with this?” he asked me, sitting up against his heels so his body towered over mine. His right hand reached up to rub the back of his neck, while his left held a gentle grasp on my thigh. I nodded, swallowing harshly. I could see him blushing, the sight giving me a little more confidence. Enough to tease him some more.
“Are you nervous?” I asked him, propping myself up on my elbows before he pushed me back down and started kissing my neck.
“About what?” he asked, huffing slightly. I held onto his broad chest, massaging his shoulders and tracing each muscle and bone.
“Taking my virginity,” I answered. “This isn’t your first time doing someone during their first time, is it?” I acted as though taking someone’s virginity was just as infamous as losing it.
Trey chuckled, pulling my shirt up. “If it weren’t you underneath me, I think I’d feel better. Sit up,” he said. I obeyed him, allowing him to pull my shirt off completely, exposing the little pink lounge bra I’d been wearing all day. He held my neck and kissed my forehead as I reached behind my back to undo the clasp and slide it off my shoulders, rendering me completely naked beneath him.
Now the nerves were back. I swallowed harshly, staring down at his hips as he undid the buckle of his belt, moving one hand to rub slowly up and down my stomach as the other pulled the leather strap out from the confines of his jeans. His head was tilted down, all of his focus devoted to the task of getting his pants off.
Suddenly, his eyes met mine, and he smiled shyly. Fucking Christ.
I remembered the night we went to prom. I wasn’t his date and he wasn’t mine; he had his own date, but he and I showed up together, since we only lived three houses away from each other. I recalled the moment I opened my front door to see him at my doorstep, wearing a white suit with black pants and dark green accents. I told him he looked nice, and he smiled shyly. I guess we were both a lot more innocent back then.
“You okay?” He asked, stroking my knees. I’d zoned out and not realized that he was just in his boxers now, waiting for my permission to proceed. I nodded, crossing my arms over my chest. Trey noticed, smiling slightly.
“Is it cool if I, um, finger you? For like, prep?” He asked me, adjusting his boxers slightly.
“What are you gonna do if I say no?” I asked, smiling.
“Fuck off, I dunno,” he laughed.
I sat up and kissed him, pushing his chest so that he’d lay back, but he just took the kiss and grabbed my hand, confused. “What are you doing?”
“I’ll be on top,” I offered. “That way you don’t have to keep stopping to ask if I’m okay.”
“That is not how it works,” he laughed, raising his eyebrows. “But go ahead.”
He laid back against my pillows, half sitting up with his head and shoulders against my headboard. Trey watched me intently as I crawled on top of him, unsure of what to do with my hands as I moved. I felt like I was put in a spotlight, shyness overcoming me as my eyes met his. He just stared at me with a soft, awestruck gaze, his hands lightly stroking my thighs.
My hair fell in front of my face as I leaned down to kiss him, my shoulders tense as I propped myself up with pin-straight arms to keep my weight off him. I felt him smile in the kiss, chuckling as his hands moved up to my hips and caressed my ass ever so slightly.
“You can sit on me, you know,” he said, looking up at me. Trey pulled my hips closer, lifting his own up slightly to shift his position and make himself more comfortable, holding in part of a grunt. “Just relax. Stop if you need to.”
“You’re not making me very bad right now,” I stated, kissing his throat. “Are you stalling?”
“I think you’re stalling, sweetheart,” He countered, tugging my hips into his again, harsher this time. My heart skipped a beat at the action and the fire in my stomach practically exploded. “I would have finished with you twice by now. Maybe three times.”
He was finally starting to get impatient. For some reason, deep down, I liked the idea of him rushing me. Just imagining it caused my adrenaline to kick in and my heartrate to pick up.
I took a deep breath, nerves building up again. Without looking, I held my breath, pulling the waistband of his boxers down just enough for his cock to slide out and present itself to me. I heard Trey gasp, seeming genuinely surprised.
This was happening.
“I-I don’t have condoms,” I said, swallowing harshly.
“I do,” he huffed, his breath having picked up in pace. “In my bedroom.”
Fuck. I didn’t want him to have to go get them and I certainly wasn’t going to go fetch them myself. I weighed my options as quickly as my brain would allow; either risk getting caught and interrogated, or risk getting pregnant. Humiliation, or bearing my best friend’s child. Only one of those options could be truly reversed.
“It’s fine,” I shook my head, fixing my hair. I stared at his stomach as he breathed rapidly.
“You sure? I can go get them real quick-”
“I trust you,” I told him, tracing small circles in his hips. His body shivered, before he sat up, causing the muscles in his abdomen to flex. Trey leaned in close, his lips grazing my ear.
“I’m dead fucking serious, Y/N,” he whispered. “Are you sure? 100% sure?”
I nodded quickly. I really was. I really wanted him. The past nine years had been taunting me all night. “I trust you.”
Trey looked in my eyes, searching for any twitches or other movements that might hint at me lying, but he found none. I gave him a look of longing, my eyelids low as I looked from his eyes, to his lips, to his body, and back up again.
“Let me get on top,” he whispered.
Without hesitation, I listened to him, holding his torso as he crawled on top of me once again, his hair tickling my face. His head was tilted down, staring intently at his piece which he took so much care to prepare, stroking it slowly.
I knew what was about to happen. I knew how it was going to feel, and I dreaded it. I’m sure this wasn’t new at all, either. According to him and Matt, this was the best part.
“It’s gonna sting,” He said, swallowing harshly. He looked incredibly nervous. Possibly more than me. Why? “I’m gonna try to be gentle.”
I just nodded. Holy fucking fuck shit fuck holy fuck. It was finally happening. For real. Literally. It was actually literally happening. He was about to be inside of me. What the fuck.
I put my hand over my eyes, holding my breath as I felt him shift, waiting for the pain to start.
Trey lowered my hand, placing it on his arm. “I want you to see,” He whispered, kissing my forehead. “Breathe.”
I felt like I could cry and I wasn’t even in pain yet. Maybe it was the fact that the man I trusted so much and felt so safe with was making me feel extra safe in such a dangerous, foreign situation. Then I started to feel it.
A wince left my throat pretty much immediately after he started pushing in. It felt like I was being ripped in half by the legs. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, kissing my neck and all over my cheek.
He paused, giving me a bit of a break to adjust. I held my palms over my face as tears welled up in my eyes. No wonder I waited till I was 25.
It wasn’t long before he started moving again, slower than fucking molasses, until he bottomed out. Trey propped himself up on his elbows, kissing my neck again.
“I bet you’d feel so good wrapped around my cock you pretty virgin whore,” He said in a dumb voice. I laughed, partially crying through it. It still hurt to move, despite Trey’s efforts to soothe me through gentle kisses all up and down my neck while he traced circles into my hips.
“I definitely would have smacked the shit out of you,” I said, my voice breaking.
“Well, I was right, so,” He bragged, grinning like a cocky piece of shit. Douchebag.
“Don’t test me, Parker,” I warned him. “Once I can move without splitting in half, you’re a dead man.”
He cocked his head to the side, furrowing his eyebrows. “I’ll keep that in mind later when you’re begging me to stop teasing you,” he mumbled, kissing me.
I stopped arguing, just reveling in the feeling of his lips on mine. That was a much better feeling than the sharp pain in my hips, which actually, was starting to feel a little less intense. I opened my mouth for him to slip his tongue into once again, hoping he would start moving by himself without me having to ask him to.
Trey groaned slightly, kissing me harder. My legs wrapped carefully around his waist, attempting to pull him closer without fucking up the more comfortable position I was already in. My prayers were answered and the idiot took the hint, slowly drawing his dick out, and even more slowly, pushing it back in.
“Pull my hair,” he mumbled quickly, leaving my lips for my neck. Now his nose was right up against my ear and I could hear every single breath he drew in and pushed back out. They were strangled, like he kept holding in inhales and exhaling in short, harsh breaths. My fingers worked their way from the base of his neck, moving upward to gather as much hair between them as I could, and clenched my fist as tight as possible. Trey whimpered; it was high-pitched and almost girly. If I didn’t hear it again in the next few seconds I would die.
Without telling him, he had already sort of picked up the pace, burying his mouth into my neck and shoulders. I felt his hand press flat against the lower part of my stomach, applying light but very noticeable pressure to the area as he continued to fuck me.
“If you were any tighter I think my dick would lose circulation,” He huffed, looking at me. I could see his temples glistening from sweat.
“If you were any bigger I think I would fucking die,” I countered, resting my head back to look at the ceiling. His lips had left damp spots on my neck that started to feel cold, giving me chills.
“I think you might be the best I’ve had,” he whispered, mumbling into my neck. His voice carried so much passion. I felt like crying again. No surprise there.
“Same,” I grinned. “You’re the only one I’ve had.”
“Can I go faster?” he asked, ignoring me.
I nodded, holding his head close to me. I stared at the ceiling, my entire body rocking slightly as Trey’s hips collided with mine again and again. My eyes fell shut as he started moving faster, and inevitably deeper.
He was a lot less vocal than I’d hoped. Likely because he didn’t want us to get caught and/or interrogated. Plus, I knew how loud Matt could be at times… in fact out of the two I only ever recalled hearing Matt.
Without even realizing, my back arched upward as the most electrifying wave of pleasure shot through my entire body, causing me to gasp and moan at an unfortunate volume. Trey had sent a harsh, pointed thrust into me, hitting that infamous spot with great force and friction.
“Mm-hmm,” He hummed, acting like he knew I would react that way. Embarrassment washed over me at the vulgar noise that had just erupted from me, but there wasn’t much I could do to protest except bite the back of my hand while Trey fucked me harder and harder, pushing similar sounds out of me.
“Fuck, fuck… fuck… Trey- mmnh,” were just a few things among the obscenities that erupted from my throat as he just pushed me closer to the edge.
“You’re doing so good,” He whispered, kissing a spot under my ear that gave me goosebumps.
I pulled his hair again, hoping to earn another one of those ridiculously pathetic sounds that was burying so deeply within him. His hair was soft and slid so nicely between my fingers; the feeling and scent were almost enough to make me cum right then.
I tugged on a chunk of his hair, causing him to whimper again, then causing me to arch my back as I felt my orgasm rushing through my body, and then causing him to fuck me faster still.
I think I saw my entire life flash before my eyes once I felt his middle and ring fingers dip between my legs and rub circles against my clit, pressing on it and pinching it ever slightly. The high hit me like a bus and I shoved my wrist into my mouth, crying out his name as my body twitched and the knot came undone within me.
“So… pretty… fuck-” he groaned, his rhythm faltering to a stutter as he started to get close too. A sharp pain struck my lower half as he quickly pulled out and came all over my hips and thigh. That worked out nicely, except now my sheets are fucking sticky and I’m covered in this fuckwad’s children.
I thought it was incredible how, even though this guy managed to make me scream his name in a way that you’d only hear in special types of movies, I still managed to think of him as a worm. No brain and no spine (occasionally). I still loved him, of course. No matter how much I hated him. He was still my Trey.
“Aren’t you just the tidiest?” I said sarcastically, catching my breath. I ran my fingertip through some of his spill, rubbing it between my fingers. It was hot and sticky, but sort of… silky. It was weird and I liked it a lot. Especially since it was his.
“Shut up, woman. Jesus,” he huffed, laughing.
There was a knock at my bedroom door. “Y/N? Trey? You guys okay?” It was Matt, inebriated.
I looked at Trey, fear in both of our eyes, until I spoke up, “You know what, fuck you! You’re a piece of shit pig! I don’t even know why I moved in with you in the first place!”
Trey’s face only read as pure shock as I spoke, but it worked, and Matt walked away. “Wow, okay. I guess not,” He’d said.
“You’re a good actor,” Trey told me, brushing my hair out of my face.
“Hmm, I guess. But you don’t want me anymore, do you?” I said jokingly, pouting.
“What are you talking about?” he asked, grinning.
“‘Cause I’m not a virgin anymore,” I said, giving him the biggest doe eyes I possibly could.
“Oh, oh, right. Yeah, that does change things,” He said, biting his finger. “I think I’m about finished with you know. Goodbye!”
He sat up to leave the room, until I whacked his arm and pulled him back down next to me. I knew he was joking. He knew he was stuck with me forever.
“You can’t go bragging to everyone just yet,” I told him. “Slow down.”
Trey scoffed. “I’m not telling them jack. All they’ll do is ask questions that I won’t answer.”
“They have to find out eventually,” I said.
“Says who?”
“Says God,” I shrugged in a nothing-I-can-do-about-it sort of manner.
“God is dead,” Trey said, grimacing.
I grinned, leaning forward to kiss him. “You’re never getting rid of me, Trey Parker.”
“That’s fine with me,” he said, pulling me in for another kiss.
#i can write a 7k+ word long trey fic in 1 day#but i can’t write a 2.5k word long matt fic in 5 days#what the fuck#trey parker#trey parker x reader#x reader#fanfiction#fem reader#fluff#smut#baseketball#cannibal the musical#south park#matt stone x reader#angst#mattrey
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Read over what was going on with anon asks and your posts, and tbh, if you are 16 and you are reaching this kind of critical thinking and actively trying to better yourself through meaningful debates and convos, you are doing god's fucking work from early. I couldn't even begin to form the kind of arguments you are articulating at your age in your posts, so fucking kudos.
I have a similar opinion of sexism being bad no matter the form it takes, patriarchy affects everyone because it imposes roles on everyone, not only women. Breaking those roles on all sides and genders should be the ultimate goal, not try to benefit from the system to become the oppressor.
In any case dude, good luck with the unavoidable influx of people who will misinterpret your posts. Also, your art is hella cool!
i think that alot of ppl just have a rlly hard time like, getting over the gut response to defend themselves when they recieve some kind of serious critisism, like, i think ppl understand on some level that sexism as a concept is stupid, but it can be hard to fully see all the nuances it takes and like, actually recognize it when its subtler
sexism is bad and when i point out that alot of you guys believe ideas that are like, really sexist then thats like, im assuming none of you are like "YEAA SEXISM RUELZZZ!!!! I HATE PEOPLE BASED ON THIER GENDOR" and u rlly rlly dont wanna be lumped into that group
its rlly normal to not wanna be mischaracterized and if you dont self identify as sexist then when someone points out sexist retoric it feels like an unfair and reductive veiw of u
and its like, you really really really need to work past that, im talking abt this stuff because i want ppl to change and be better and if you want that for yourself u have to like rlly chew on these kinds of things
i think what alot of people have issues with is like, relatability in artwork, like "of course im gonna like art with queer women in it more and find it more valueble if im a queer woman" but i think that this points to a really rigid and uphelpful veiw of gender
ive discussed before that, because the mind numbing ammount of biological differences people have theres no actual objective definition of sex or gender, its socially constructed and entirely arbitrary and subjective
i think that labels for sexuality and gender are useful shorthand in our current society though ideally we wouldnt need them, but you need to remember that these things arent rigid
butch lesbian is not a definable group, gay man is not a definable group, they are arbitrary words that mean something different for literally every different person
likewise acting like those meaningless labels somehow make some artwork more or less valueble just points to a bias against people with a certain label
like, the labels dont mean anything they shouldnt change your veiw of a work, if you resonate with a peice of work why does it matter what label is put on it? why does that affect your veiw on the peice?
and yes you are objectively going to relate to some experiences more then others, but i dont think relatability should effect how you value the work, infact id argue seeing perspectives different then your own is incredibly incredibly valueble and, if your disregarding (even subconciously) certain things because theyre made by men then that not only hurts men but it hurts you, it isolates you
maybe i didnt word that perfectly im not always the most articulate but like, i think most of the issues people are having with this are coming from me articulating things maybe not as intuatively as i could or from people refusing to properly engadge with what i have to say
idk, regarding the people accusing me of transmysogeny i just wanna say that like, I AM NOT ALLERGIC TO TALKING TO YOU ABT THIS!! i want to be better and i dont want to be mysogenistic! and if you do see concerning behavior in me i want to be told of it, you keeping these kinds of things to yourself or refusing to engadge with me when i actively am trying to be like, thourough and nuanced about things is just kinda, not productive
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intimacy headcanons about bottoms (2023)
okay, so i have a lot of feelings about this movie right here. i watched it in theatres with one of my bestfriends, and we couldn't stop talking about it afterwards - more specifically, headcanons we had about the fight club OG members and their reactions to sexual intimacy.
hear me out, okay.
PJ (we start with the queen who started it all):
- talks a big game but actually wildly unknowledgeable about everything to do with the female orgasm.
- is a bottom. it's in the title, it's in her genes, it's in her jeans.
- has a controversy kink (cute cheerleaders, chicks that can make shit explode) and will vehemently deny that she likes the thrill of crushing out on someone she ABSOLUTELY has no business crushing on.
- learned halfway through the movie that she's into pain!
Josie (the brains of the operation... sometimes):
- pimpy as fuck. she thought she'd be shy and nervous, but when she gets going she's three steps from being the hugh hefner of lesbians.
- she's a top, but a service top who will let her girl do the 'topping' if she wants to (and by girl, i mean Isabel).
- secret collection of toys "just in case" she needs the help with her stamina (girl just recovered from a broken arm)... spoiler alert, they use absolutely none of them and still run for like four to six rounds.
- too embarrassed to admit she used to watch videos to "take notes".
Hazel (my baby, she is everything to me):
- is baby girl, but is also daddy depending on her mood (and what PJ is into at the time) but is precious none the less.
- refuses to turn the lights off because she likes to watch you both during and after the throes of passion.
- lowkey but also kind of highkey enjoys public displays of affection after the kiss that started the straight up murder of an entire football team of teenage boys (also enjoys shoving it in Tim's face that she's got a girlfriend, and he's got... Jeff!).
- ridiculously good at what she does but doesn't brag... instead PJ brags to everyone for her, and she ends up with a reputation.
Isabel (shiny, shiny, shiny, shiny):
- first time she slept with Josie, she lost all hope that a man would ever know how to satisfy her - or another woman for that matter.
- seems like she would be a pillow princess but is actually extremely into giving, and fights with Josie all the time over "topping".
- gets turned on watching Josie break people's noses (it's happened a few times, all to the same effect) and isn't ashamed to admit it.
- went to Hazel for tips on how to do things, before word even got out that Hazel was a pro... Isabel just had the feeling that Hazel knew.
Brittany (token straight girl... literally the token straight girl):
- since turning down PJ, has kissed more girls than the entire club combined (it doesn't help that half of them are all into each other).
- wavers on the border of being bi-curious, but just didn't know how to turn down PJ gently, also just not ready to fully come out yet.
- definitely fantasizes about women while she's with her boyfriend though. he knows and doesn't really mind about that.
- stands by Hazel deserves better than PJ, and if she were just five percent more into women, she'd steal poor Hazel away in a heartbeat.
and to a lesser degree, we had some headcanons about everyone else...
Stella-Rebecca (the regina george, only nicer):
- looks like a pillow princess, absolutely is a pillow princess.
- into some crazy ass shit; things that the rest of the girls won't even search online for until they're at least twenty-five, married, and bored in their current intimacy lives.
Sylvie (let's crowdfund to get this girl some help):
- looks like she'd be in charge, is also a pillow princess, but is completely unashamed to admit that she prefers receiving.
- has been hooking up with Annie since the second meeting of fight club. only Hazel knows, but she isn't a snitch.
Annie (you fool nobody, you a freak my dear):
- has been hooking up with Sylvia since the second meeting of fight club, when she very concerned about the girl's homelife asked her out for dinner to "talk" and then they ended up spending the entire night together, before they kissed and fooled around a little bit, and Annie told herself for the longest time she was only doing this to make Sylvie happy because the girl is wildly unhappy, only to realize that she's the unhappy one and Sylvie makes her happy.
- doesn't know that Hazel knows about them. she aint a snitch.
and for extra bonus points... we had lots of feelings about this.
Jeff (i'm saying he counts, so there):
- has never found THE spot, ever.
- had to practice with Tim on how to take a bra off because he kept getting confused by all of the buckles and "why is there so many straps? why do they even need these things? can't i rip it? what if i just buy them a new bra after? okay fine."
- genuinely does not realize that Mrs. Callahan's daughter Hazel goes to his school and knows his girlfriend, until he is confronted by them.
- falls asleep thirty-six seconds after he finishes like a lazy ass.
#bottoms 2023#bottoms movie#ruby cruz#rachel sennott#ayo edebiri#havana rose liu#kaia gerber#virginia tucker#zamani wilder#summer joy campbell#nicholas galitzine#headcanon#smut#fanfic smut
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actually your entire post sounds like fucking bullshit lmao none of those people can possibly be what you claim they were. gay men aren't gay if they're into tits and no actual lesbian would ever invite a man into their bed. Do people just like, not know that words have meaning anymore? Or are you just straight up lying? Either way, you cunts are disgusting as hell and I hope you all die. This shit is why I can't fucking stand 99% of other queer people. Absolutely fucking delusional.
*puts down the clipboard* do you think maybe this is a projection of your own loneliness and jealousy? That you aren’t having the experience you think you deserve by conforming to what your oppressors expect of you? I’ve been like you before. Thinking if I just follow the rules, stick to what is expected of me then I’ll be fine. Then I realized I wasn’t straight. So I thought oh I don’t want to be one of the bad queers so I’ll be what the rules expect and still be accepted. Then I realized I wasn’t cis. So I thought oh I don’t want to be a transtrender, I’ll transition “correctly” and be what people expect. Then I realized I was nonbinary. Queer means queer. It’s messy and “odd” and refusing to acknowledge that is what’s deluded.
You’re pecking at crumbs and lashing out over the fact that I’ve got such good game I can pull cis men, cis women, trans men, trans women, and folks of all orientations and genders and you’ve got…what? A hobby of hate-reading positivity posts?
If you like the taste of boot so much, may I suggest the leather community? But watch out! I hear there are queers there…
#ask#anon ask#hate mail#when you’re done pitching a hissy fit#you may find there is a whole world out there IN the queer community that likes you#if you weren’t such a rancid bitch
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The Lies of Locke Lamora by Scott Lynch
Nonspoilery: This is a super fun read that is very much in keeping with how I like my fantasy. I wish it were slightly more on the con man side, but I recognize that those are very difficult to write because one needs to actually be clever enough to come up with the insanely clever plan that unfolds, and, you know what, I'm not there either. But it absolutely is a fun crimey fantasy novel, well written that expects you can actually follow a line of description and maybe even look up a big word, that tries very hard not to bore you with needing to refer to a glossary or map.
I will say, and I'll talk about this more below: There are basically no women in this novel. it's a little disappointing. I still overall think it's worth it if you like this sort of thing though.
SPOILERS BELOW:
THIS is the kind of thing pitchless draw was made for. You could not have talked me into reading this book. Unless you possess an incredible skill--I'm not sure *I* could have talked me into reading this book, and supposedly no one knows me better.
But I did really enjoy myself. This is a flat out FUN novel, that doesn't mind being long but never feels long. I LOVED the long bits of description in this book, I BEG for flavor in some many modern novels that strip away anything that isn't an immediate moving of the ball. Actually, one of the things I would say that's not a criticism so much as a preference, is that I feel like this book, and probably this writer, remembering his short story from Rogues, is more plot-driven than character driven. I am a girl who loves a really interior novel, and this isn't that, but it did not stop me from having a GREAT time. It's a romp.
I like Locke, and his whole backstory. I wish he were a woman. Specifically, I would love to see a femme con artist, second coming of Minako Aino, Becky Sharp ass bitch. THAT would be my dream for Locke Lamora. And I know my friends who have read this book all want butch Locke and I love that for you, and I know y'all have known me long enough to know I love a butch, but I deserve a treat as well, and I LOVE con artists, and goddamnit, if I could change one thing about this novel, Locke Lamora would be a femme lesbian and I would change NOTHING else. You wouldn't even have to. One fo the great things about Lynch not being a real interior writer is literally any of the mains could be a woman and it would change nothing.
This does segue into the big problem here--there's no women in this novel. It's a 700 page book and I could condense the lines said by women into like two or three pages. I actually DO get it. I think we're reaping a little bit of what we've sown, as a community, with the requirement for perfection in our representation that leads to very boring and safe choices. Everyone is a man. We're only swarthy at best. Can't be criticized for bad identity writing if you don't write them at all! ANd this isn't me being salty, I get how that happens, I have also sometimes fallen into making any character of identity boring as fuck or not writing them at all to avoid any criticism. And no one cares about ME, I'm not a best seller. I do think, maybe, people will get better about this. Pendulums and all. I miss the awkward, good faith 90s where you had the United Colors of Benetton and one character who randomly celebrated Hanukkah. We'll see.
ANYHOW NOT RELEVANT. But I do find it irritating that because of this, we don't see women in this huge story at all. None of the gang, even though it would have been easy as fuck to make, say, Bug a girl. Even doing something like making Nazca Barsavi the actual heir apparent, and to have her marrying Locke because she knows he won't try to be Capa, and she'll let him do whatever the fuck he wants, can play the henpecked husband while being the Thorn of Camorr, could be really fun and would do more for Nazca and also play up their friendship. It could make her death mean a lot more, if they were running their own little Barsavi con.
Anyhow, the really fantastic behind the scenes worldbuilding was how I wish more fantasy novels did it. It didn't often try to explain things to me, it spoke as if I mostly understood them, or had cahracters say them in ways that made sense to the story (In this capacity, Lukas Fehrwright is fucking BRILLIANT as Someone That Must Have Camorr Explained). So I didn't feel like I was being sat down and told the history of a place I barely know, while having stupid fucking vocabulary words thrown at me. We never define any physik or magic beyond what needs be done because fuck you that's why. I love it. Thank you for not telling me what alchemical botany can or can't do. Thank you for dropping literally only what I need to kjnow about wraithstone into the plot. You have a crown in heaven.
Or I know I said I wish it would have been more con-ny and less "kill the new mob boss" at the end there, but oh my fuck, how much did I love the whole job at the counting house. I SCREAMED. It was so good, I had no clue where it was going the whole time and I would never have gotten there, but I LOVED it. What a great time.
One...weakness, for me, I guess I'll say, is that lack of interiority makes it hard to really feel the weight of some things. We don't get enough about Galdo, Calo, or Bug to feel anything for them, and I knew Bug was dead from the time he showed up. Actually, I thought we were going to kill jean Tannen, because that was the only relationship REALLY laden with emotional weight in the book. Didn't bother me enough to not recommend the book, as I'm mostly recommending it on fun, but I did notice.
ANYWAY, uh...any specific questions I'm happy to take!
Unfortunately, this means that @verbforverb nabbed me again. So, I had a great time reading the book but at what cost
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