#and there's a very specific look on women who don't realize that they need to update their fashion as their body ages

[neverendingford]

.

[moki-dokie]

been seeing some stuff on blue eye samurai and big yikes to nearly everyone pushing extremely western ideals onto these characters.

this is early edo period. 1600s. the japan you know now did not exist yet.

yall. please. there was NO concept of sexuality in pre-modern japan. that came with both the influx of christianity and western influence very very late in history. like, mid-1800s. (yes, there was christianity pre-1800s but it was not a widespread idea yet and wouldn't be until about the 1800s since, y'know, missionaries were routinely murdered before then)

"so and so is either bi and hasn't figured it out yet or..." no. that isn't how it worked then. nobody gave a shit what was between your legs. anyone could be attracted to anyone else. it was a little more common for male homosexual relationships to be between an adult and younger male - like many other places around the world - but two adult men could bang and love each other just as easily. relationships between women were quite common - especially since so many men were often away at war. there's tons of pornographic prints from the time depicting all manner of fun queer relationships. sex itself had absolutely no moral assignment to it. good sex was good health. it didn't matter who with. (well, social class/caste mattered more than anything else tbh but that didn't stop upper and lower class from fucking.) that isn't to say people didn't have preferences. of course they did. that is human nature. preferences arose more from physical appearance, caste, and circumstances with gender being about the last thing one would look for in a partner - romantic, casual, or otherwise. the only role in sex where gender actually mattered was for procreation.

there would be no queer awakening moment, no sudden switch flipped, no stigma to have internal conflicts about because it simply did not exist as a concept whatsoever. you were either attracted to a person or you weren't, it was that simple. gender played no role when it came to sex and sexual attraction. the japanese were lightyears ahead of western cultures in this particular area - like most cultures were before christianity came in and ruined everything with its backwards morals and strict good/evil dichotomy.

yall have got to realize queer rep will not and should not always adhere by modern western standards. there was no straight, gay, bi, or anything else of the sort. the closest they ever got was referring to roles during sex - as in who is giving and who is receiving.

i know this is mostly a made up story but it is still set within a very specific time period and culture, which should be honored and respected by not making it fit into our box. tons of research went into making this show historically accurate (albeit with some discrepancies but tbh they aren't really that huge) right down to the calligraphy writing. please please please don't whitewash the culture from these characters.

i say this mainly because without this knowledge, so many of you are going to build these characters up on a foundation they aren't meant to be on and then you'll rage about queerbaiting and bad queer rep if it isn't somehow super explicitly stated, if it doesn't match your very modern, very western ideal of what queer looks like. don't try to force this plot and narrative and characters into something they canonically and historically aren't. headcanons are a thing, AUs are a thing, fanfiction is a thing - leave your western thinking for those and let these characters simply exist as they should otherwise. this is one of those times where the queerness really does not need to be examined at all beyond what we get.

i know it can be hard to wrap your head around - sexuality is such a huge part of our identity in the western world and has slowly started to spread amongst other parts of the world in importance. but just keep in mind with these particular characters, that concept would be so very alien to them.

[asidian]

One thing I haven't seen talked about is Crystal's character arc, and specifically the way the timing of it interacts with Charles' arc. They stumble over each other in the worst possible way en route to their respective character growth, and from a narrative perspective, it's absolutely genius.

I'm going to preface all this by saying: none of this is a criticism of Crystal. Part of what makes her such a dynamic, refreshing character is that you don't get to see women in fiction written the way she's been written. You don't get to see women with her flaws that aren't throw-away mean girls or villains. You especially don't get to see women with her traits who learn and grow and become better people. So yeah, I'm going to talk about Crystal's character flaws. No, this isn't Crystal hate. We love our girl in this house. Okay? Okay. Let's start.

Crystal's character arc, at its heart, is all about her learning to be a better person because she has good influences that love and support her for the first time.

When the show starts, Crystal is not a nice person. She's abrasive in a way that's specifically designed to push people away. She's used to getting her own way, and it shows. She's used to having no meaningful connections with anyone, and it shows. She's breathtakingly selfish, in the very literal sense of the definition. She is focused on her self. Her problems are front and center to her; everything is about what she needs, and what she wants, and how she's struggling.

Jenny calls her out very early on. In episode one, Crystal is complaining about the boys, and Jenny, for all her cynicism, strikes right at the heart of the problem. She tells Crystal, "Everybody is always thinking about themselves, all the time." People only care about their own problems. And she says, correctly, that that's what Crystal is doing, too.

This moment is a revelation for Crystal. For the first time, she considers what her behavior looks like from another person's perspective. As she says, she gets mad at herself over it, and that awareness allows her to do something selfless for the first time in the series. She takes a step back and insists that instead of focusing on her problems, they go to help a little girl. It's a big moment for her.

But importantly, she's not done growing as a character here. She's only just getting started.

On my first watch through, I didn't realize how often, over the next few episodes, Crystal redirects things to her problems during conversation, but it's quite a lot. She's still focused on herself – selfish, in that most literal definition of the word. The issues most important to her are her issues. She's starting to learn to think about other people, but she's not there yet. The process is still underway.

Which brings us to Charles.

Charles' arc is a different sort of self-reflection. He's terrified that he's a bad person the way his father was and the way the boys that killed him were.

During the course of the show, he gets systematically stripped of his confidence and made to feel helpless, and just like Crystal needs outside influences to help her reach a more stable place, Charles does, too. He desperately needs reassurance that he isn't everything he's afraid he is.

But my goodness, the timing in their arcs is such a trainwreck when you put them together, and it is brilliant.

Let's start with the Devlin House.

Crystal has some amazing character growth here. She displays genuine concern about Charles, makes an attempt at comforting him, and learns to work with Edwin even though she still doesn't particularly like him at this point.

Charles, meanwhile, is beginning to fall apart. He's just had the worst night of his afterlife. He's been viscerally reminded of how helpless he is. He couldn't stop the Devlins from being killed over and over, just like he couldn't stop his own father's abuse. He messed up his attempted rescue so badly that he was completely out of commission until the case was finished. He managed to help not one single thing. He made no impact at all. He couldn't help those girls any more than he was able to help himself, while he was still alive.

So they get back to the butcher shop, and what do we see? Monty immediately coopts Edwin. Niko doesn't know what's happened because she wasn't there and Charles has been all fake smiles with her. And Crystal goes off with Niko, leaving Charles to flounder on his own in the wake of everything. She's still learning how to support other people. She isn't there yet, and it's extremely on display in this moment.

Then we get the lighthouse episode, and they both get put through the wringer here. Crystal gets her hopes and expectations jerked around by the Night Nurse in the very worst way, and Charles gets hit with a whole pile full of trauma. All that helplessness wells to the forefront again. Combined with being forced to relive some of his worst memories and the desperation to keep Edwin safe from hell, Charles lets himself act on his anger for once.

And what does he get in the aftermath? Horror.

Everyone who cares about him is horrified by what he's done. Edwin goes so far as to call it extreme. They don't know the half of it, of course; they haven't seen what the Night Nurse just put him through. But in this moment Charles is at his absolute lowest, and all he sees is confirmation that he's exactly as terrible as he thinks he is.

That's why Charles shrugs off Edwin's attempt at comfort, here. When he needed to be able to do something to protect Edwin and also himself – when he needed to believe that he could be better than what his father always was – all he sees is the confirmation from the people he cares about most that when push came to shove, he really is a bad guy.

Then comes the aftermath. And this moment is such a brilliant, awful clash of both of their character arcs. It is so delightfully messy.

Because Charles starts to open up to Crystal here. He starts to lay himself bare, the way he ends up doing with Edwin in episode 5. He's on the verge of admitting something that he's been worried about for literal decades. He tells her, "I've been angry for such a long time."

And what does Crystal do? She's still in the midst of her own character growth. She's still struggling to support other people. She's still learning how to. In a lot of ways, though she's made progress already, she's still that selfish girl that Jenny called out in the very first episode.

And she shows it here it with the absolute worst possible timing. No sooner has Charles started to talk about what's bothering him than she cuts in with her own problems. She's tired of riddles and spirits and demons and not knowing who she is. And the look on Charles' face. The moment when he visibly sets aside his own problems, because Crystal doesn't need any more disasters on her plate? It's heartbreaking. You can actually track the subtle change in his expression there. The actor does a phenomenal job.

And then comes the kiss. And what spurs it? Crystal saying she needs something real.

This moment isn't about light-hearted attraction, the way the earlier flirting is. It's Charles setting aside what he needs – comfort and reassurance and a moment to talk through the things that have been tearing him apart – to give her what she says she wants. He can't even feel it. And Crystal isn't far enough along in her character growth here to realize how selfish she's being. Like Jenny said way back in episode one, she's only thinking about herself.

And then comes the absolute unmitigated disaster of episode 5.

Straight out the gate, Charles leans in for a kiss. From his perspective, they have something together; there's affection there. Charles "I think I'd miss kissing" Rowland, who has been starved for meaningful physical contact for thirty years, is not in a hurry to give this up.

But Crystal is fresh out of a nightmare where she conflates Charles with her abusive ex. She withdraws; she calls what they had a distraction. She cuts it off almost as soon as it's started, so focused on her own worries here that she misses how damn fake Charles' smile is, to cover up that he's coming to pieces.

To be clear, she's absolutely not in the wrong here. It is 1000% her prerogative not to jump into a relationship again while she's still struggling to work through what happened with David. But the arc of her narrative is still early enough that she does it all without so much as the awareness that her focus on her own issues has hurt Charles terribly.

And then the episode really kicks off, and both of them are in shambles in very different ways.

Crystal is projecting her issues with David onto Charles. She has a lot of history, and David seems as though he's exactly the right sort of toxic to leave lasting a lasting impact. But Charles hasn't done anything to deserve her assumptions, and he takes the brunt of her temper here and throughout the episode.

Charles is desperately projecting onto the dead jocks. He very badly wants them to be good guys, because he sees himself in them and he needs himself to be a good guy. He snipes back at Crystal for the very first time in this episode, and he does it in the worst way possible, accidentally prodding her where it will do the most damage.

They're both hurting. They both say some truly painful things to one another.

She does not need to hear that she has unsorted hangups about David still plaguing her while she's unable to move past them. He desperately does not need anyone to tell him that he has rage issues while he's still struggling to think of himself as a decent person.

They apologize, in the end. They start to move past it.

But it's telling that Charles doesn't try to open up to Crystal again. He goes to Edwin instead, even though Edwin is the one who called his actions regarding the Night Nurse extreme. He gets the reassurance he needs so badly; he gets the connection he was looking for with Crystal from Edwin, instead. (I have a lot of thoughts on why Charles initially tries to open up to Crystal so quickly, but it is very much an aside, and this is already extremely long, so it will have to wait for another write-up.)

But the important thing here is, Edwin is the one to offer Charles what he needs to overcome the self-doubt eating him alive. Edwin provides the physical affection Charles was seeking in the form of that long-overdue hug. Edwin is the one who's able to reaffirm for him that he's not just a good guy, he's the best person Edwin knows.

And for all intents and purposes, Charles' major character arc ends here.

Charles has a few last little moments to go on the path to rebuilding his own self-image, after this, but for the most part his concerns have been resolved. He saves Crystal in episode 6 and Edwin in episode 7, proving to himself that he's able to make a difference in the face of overwhelming odds. He's not helpless, no matter what the Night Nurse told him; he can be a force for good in the world. By the end of the series, his crisis of self-doubt seems to have been largely overcome.

But it's the conversation with Edwin at the end of episode 5 that really allows him to work through his most pressing issues. Edwin is there to help support him when he stumbles. Edwin provides him the comfort he was looking for while Crystal was too worried about her own problems to notice how badly he needed the help.

Crystal, meanwhile, still has a ways to go after episode 5. The last three episodes are where she does her most important character growth.

In episode 6, she learns some hard lessons about keeping secrets and letting people help and appreciate you even when you can't offer them anything in return. And Charles, importantly, is there for her every step of the way. He consistently offers her physical and emotional support. He models for her, in a very real way, what it looks like to have someone prop you up when you need the help.

And in turn, Crystal steps in to save the boys. She's the big damn hero at the end of this episode.

The breakthrough continues into episode 7. She's so intent on helping to get Edwin out of hell that she literally goes to face her own demons, not for herself for once – not for her own purposes or needs or wants – but because she wants to help someone else.

And episode 8, at long last, brings her to the culmination of her character arc.

Crystal is at her absolute lowest here. Her family, the people who were supposed to love her unconditionally, didn't even realize she was gone. Her precious memories, that she's spent the entire series trying to regain, have showed her that she's not the person she hoped she would be. She's overwhelmed enough that she means to flee, to cut herself off from her new friends entirely.

Then the boys get kidnapped. And just like that, she makes up her mind.

For the first time since the start of the series, she sets aside her most important issues in order to let what other people need take precedence. She disregards all of her own personal concerns and focuses instead on others. She's finally stepped out of those selfish impulses that Jenny calls her out on, all the way back in the first episode. She's finally learned how to support other people when they need it.

Crystal has finally figured out how to be there for others, despite having troubles of her own.

It's a lovely arc, and it's beautifully done.

Charles' is just as touching.

And god damn, but it was a brilliant narrative choice to have their character arcs line up in exactly the wrong way.

[heli-writes]

A dragon's heart, part 8.

Pairing: Barbarian!Bakugou Katsuki x female!reader

Summary: The dragonblood tribe is known for being cruel, barbarian warriors that slaughter, loot and rape all places they pass through. They are feared among the villagers and even bigger cities. Having lost most of their women to a plague, they're trying to ensure their tribe's survival by kidnapping women from other places. However, they're not the only monsters in human form out there. When y/n experiences this first hand, she has no choice but to ask for help from no other but the barbarian leader Katsuki Bakugou himself.

Disclaimer: injuries, sexism, mentions of male genitalia, orgasms and (oral) sex

[Please don't read if you are sensible to or triggered by the topics mentioned above.]

Minors do not interact.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

Series Masterlist

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Katsuki fastens the stag at the dragon's back behind the saddle. Y/n stands beside him and secures the stag while Katsuki uses the straps to make sure that the stag doesn't fall off during the flight. She watches as Katsuki works with a grim expression on his face. More grim than usual, she thinks. She wonders why. She doesn't know that Katsuki takes her to his tribe today. He didn't even try to tell her since she wouldn't understand him anyway.

He would never admit it but he's anxious. He knows that his men will celebrate his victory. Coming home with a successful hunt. Bringing home a woman for the tribe.

Concerning the old hag, he's not so sure. His mother is one of the few remaining women in his tribe. The plague took most of the fertile women. Meaning old women past their fertile prime and young girls before their first blood survived. Leaving a whole generation of young men behind.

His mother always had very specific expectations of how Katsuki's life was supposed to take place. Becoming the tribe's leader, for example. That being said, he's not sure she will approve of him bringing home a stray female. Well, that'd be alright if he did and brought her for his men. Or for himself for a night. But definitely not as a potential mate for himself.

Suddenly, there's a warm hand on his bicep. Y/n. She must've said something to him considering how expectantly she looks at him. „What, woman?“, he spats. Y/n furrows her brow in worry. Clearly, something is upsetting Katsuki.

Y/n walks closer to him and wraps her arms around his middle and leans into him. For a second, Katsuki wants to push her away because he is annoyed. When he sees how she looks at him, he changes his mind. Soft eyes look up at him, making him dizzy.

He shifts so he can take her into his arms. He leans his forehead onto hers and takes a deep breath. He can still feel the angry feeling in his stomach. Or is it anxiety? He doesn't know. Either way, it feels like a stone lying right behind his belly button.

Y/n moves her head and meets Katsuki in a kiss. Without opening his eyes, Katsuki kisses her back. In contrast to yesterday at the bonfire, this kiss is sweet and slow. There's no fire behind it just reassurance. Katsuki doesn't realize how the stone dissolves itself.

Breaking the kiss, Katsuki looks down at y/n who places a hand on his cheek and softly strokes it. He wants to sigh and kiss her again but y/n slips out of the embrace and gets another bag that needs to be secured at the dragon's back.

Before they take to the sky, y/n takes a look at Katsuki's injury one more time. She's afraid that the wound won't heal properly with Katsuki moving around so much. Katsuki thinks it's completely unnecessary but he lets y/n fret over him for a bit. Maybe he also enjoys it a bit. When she's done, they mount the dragon.

Y/n watches their surrounding with excited eyes. Somehow, she can't get enough of watching the landscape from so high above. Katsuki does not do any stupid tricks this time and just lets her enjoy the view. Now and then, he presses a kiss to her neck which makes her feel fuzzy inside.

Slowly, but steadily the landscape starts to change. The forest areas become less and less dense and few more settlements can be spotted. The air grows cooler.

They fly for two or three hours when y/n starts to notice a painful ache in her tights. She remembers what happened last time when they flew for a longer period of time. She tries to ignore the pain until it becomes too much. She turns around and asks Katsuki to land. When he doesn't understand her, she keeps pointing to the ground.

„What, you gotta piss? I've told you to go before we left, stupid woman.“, Katsuki mumbles but gives the dragon a sign to land.

After the dragon touches land, Katsuki helps y/n down. He notices how her movements are stiff. He touches her legs and notice how cool she's gotten. He scrambles for some clothes when y/n wobbles behind a tree.

There, she lifts her dress and looks at her tights. There are blisters forming and there are fine tears in her skin. „Fuck.“, she mumbles.

„Fuck?“, Katsuki's amused voice says behind her.

Y/n drops her skirt and turns around. Dramatically, she rolls his eyes to make it clear what she thinks of that comment. She's sure as hell that Katsuki has a foul mouth. He shouldn't make fun of her when she uses a swear word here and then.

„You done?“, he says putting his hand on his hips. Wordlessly, y/n wobbles back to the dragon and looks for the medicine bag. Katsuki watches her closely, not getting why she needs wound dressing.

„You stay here“, y/n tells him, „Don't look.“

She wobbles behind the dragon and sits down carefully she looks for the rash cream and some bandages. Katsuki follows her closely behind.

„Go away!“, she tells him and waves her hand. Katsuki picks up one of the bandages.

„Why do you need those? Are you hurt or what?“, he asks. Y/n gives him a mean look and keeps pointing behind the dragon.

When Katsuki doesn't move, y/n sighs in defeat. It's not like he will see anything inappropriate. It's just legs after all, y/n tells herself and starts ruffling up her skirt.

Katsuki's eyes widen when he realizes why y/n wanted him to leave. However, he does not show any signs of moving away. Instead, he very intensely stares up y/n's naked leg. Y/n makes sure lady parts are covered but can't help feeling embarrassed by Katsuki's stares. He must know this intimate. Especially when she has to prop up and spread one leg in order to get to the wound.

In all honesty, very indecent thoughts run through Katsuki's mind when he sees y/n in this position. That is until he sees the wounds on y/n's thighs. Immediately, he steps closer, kneels down and grabs y/n's knee hollow pushing her leg further apart. Y/n yelps as she almost loses balance.

Katsuki inspects the wound. „Rider's rash.“, he determines. Not uncommon if you ride a horse or dragon without proper clothes. Y/n's dress definitely falls under the category of improper clothes for riding. Katsuki wants to scold himself. He should've thought of this. It's not like y/n had any other choice but to ride with the clothes on her back since she had no others.

Katsuki lets go off her leg and grabs the rash cream.

„I-it's fine! I can do that myself!“, y/n says jittery and tries to grab the cream out of Katsuki's hand. She really doesn't want him to touch her anywhere near there. No, that's wrong. She definitely wants that but not now and not here.

Katsuki just swats her hand away and takes a big goop of cream. Carefully, he spreads her leg again applying the cream onto the wound. While he's very concentrated on treating the wound, he's also painfully aware of how close he is to the place his men would kill for. When the cream is applied he wraps a bandage around it. Without asking, he checks y/n's other leg and repeats the process.

Meanwhile, y/n's face burns in a bright red.

Once he's done, he lets go of her and pulls her skirt over her legs again. A gesture that y/n appreciates. Then, he rumbles through a bag and gets another pair of pants. It's shorter than the one he wears. He helps y/n into the pants and y/n stuffs her dress into the pants trying to use the fabric as a cushion for the wounds that already formed. Katsuki also wraps his cape around her shoulder and arms.

Then, it's time to fly again.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

They fly for the rest of the day. Only taking a quick pee break in between. While y/n is fascinated by the view for a while, she eventually grows tired. At some point, she leans back and rests her head against Katsuki's shoulder. He lets her because he knows how tiring flying can be to an untrained body. He remembers how beat he was after his first few flying lessons.

When the mighty Bear Fang Mountains come into view, Katsuki nudges y/n awake. Actually, she bolts awake and when she remembers where she is, she immediately clings to Katsuki's arms for balance.

„Wow“, she breathes at the sight in front of her. A large mountain range opens up in front of them. Are we flying lower or are these mountains higher than we fly?, she thinks.

„We call them Iron Peaks“, Katsuki tells her. He points along the range of mountains and repeats: „Iron Peaks“. Y/n follows the motion of his finger and mumbles: „Iron Peaks“. Katsuki corrects her pronunciation and y/n repeats the words until she feels Katsuki nod behind her.

Katsuki takes her hand and uses her index finger to point to a mountain to the right of them. „There's my home. There's where we're going. Back home.“, he tells her. Again, y/n repeats the last word Katsuki utters and he nods approvingly.

„Yes, we're going home.“, he mumbles into her hair.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It's not long before the dragon starts flying lower and a settlement comes into sight. Y/n instantly recognizes how it looks different from the settlements in the kingdom. The settlement is made of tents instead of brick houses. Suddenly, a feeling of nostalgia hits her. While most villages in the kingdom were assembled out of brick houses, that's not where the wandering folk lived in.

Her people also lived in tents. Portable homes that can be set up anytime anywhere. And, of course, one cannot be struck dead by falling stones. Just the sight of the arrangement of tents makes her think of her people, her parents, and her childhood. Her heart aches and she can feel tears pricking in her eyes. Quickly she rubs them away and hopes that Katsuki mistakes them as the result of the cold wind piercing her eyes. She really can't wait to sleep in comfortable leather walls again.

Katsuki's mind is too busy to notice y/n's tears. He's growing more tense with each passing second.

The dragon approaches landing and y/n can make out human figures in between the tents. When the dragon's feet stand firm on the ground, a bunch of rough-looking men walk towards the dragon with loud roaring. For a second, y/n thinks the men are going to attack them until Katsuki lets out a triumphant howl in return.

Katsuki jumps from the dragon and his men immediately tackle him. Katsuki laughs and shoves the men away playfully. Y/n feels awkward watching him greet his friends from atop the dragon, so she carefully demounts the dragon by herself. The motion grabs the men's attention.

„A woman?“, a blonde man says with his eyes as big as saucers. „I thought you wanted to go hunting. You should've taken us with you when you planned to raid a place!“, another man complaints. Katsuki shoves him roughly.

„I wasn't on a raid, you dumb fucks. Basically, found that one roaming the woods.“, he tells them.

„Our chief is a lucky one then, heh?“, the blonde grins, „Is she a good fuck? Or you kept her decent so one of us can have her?“.

Katsuki shoots the blonde an angry glare. „Shut the fuck up, Denki. That one's mine, you got that.“, he growls.

The blonde named Denki raises his hands in defeat. „Alright, chief. But what will your mother say about that?“, Denki teases. Katsuki stomps his feet.

„I'm chief and that old hag needs to bow to my decisions.“, he shoots back.

It doesn't go unnoticed by him how his men exchange uncertain glances. While Katsuki took over the regiment a few years ago, the former chief of the tribe, his mother, still holds a certain power over people.

Y/n walks closer to the men and gives the men uncertain smiles.

„Why is she dressed like this?“

„She's so small. You sure she's gonna make it around here? Their kind is not known for being mountain-weather-resistant.“

„Are her boobs big? And her hips wide enough?“

The men swarm her trying to get a good look at her. Y/n feels really uncomfortable and, by the way the men look at her, she's worried they'll try to tear the clothes off of her.

Katsuki steps in between them. „Y'all shut the fuck up. Get your asses to work. Unload the dragon, and take care of the stag! Tonight we feast!“, he yells at them and grabs y/n's arm.

The men get to work and Katsuki wordlessly drags y/n behind him deeper into the settlement. More men wait outside their tents. Upon seeing Katsuki's angry face, they decide against greeting their leader. Nobody wants to deal with Katsuki in a bad mood. They also oogle at the woman at his side.

Y/n searches for women among them to no avail. Where are they?, she wonders. Do they stay in the tents? Are they with the kids?

She doesn't find an answer to her question. Then, Katsuki arrives at his destination. A large, painted tent in the middle of the settlement. There's a small brick hut attached to its side. One of the only stone constructions y/n spotted so far.

Katsuki leads her inside. Once inside, he lets go of her arms and throws the knife he was holding onto a table at the side. Y/n looks around carefully.

There's a large bed with furs and other blankets in the middle of the room. There are multiple wooden chests on the side of the tent.

There is a small table and two chairs on the other side. And there are weapons. A lot of them. Hanging from the ceiling. In buckets on the ground. Thrown carelessly onto the trunks.

Y/n is pretty sure that this must be Katsuki's tent.

"Y/n", Katsuki says sternly. Y/n turns around carefully. Katsuki says something that sounds like an order and y/n stares at him with furrowed brows. We really have to work on this language thing, she thinks to herself while shrugging helplessly to make him see that she doesn't understand a thing.

Katsuki sighs. He grabs her arm and pulls her to the side of the tent. Behind the table, there is an opening in the tent that is closed off with another piece of leather. Pulling it away, Katsuki reveals the entrance to the small brick hut y/n saw from the outside.

He pulls her inside and a sort of bathroom comes into sight. It's sparsely furnished but has everything that is needed. In the middle of the hut is a bathtub that is already filled with steaming water.

Katsuki points at her, then the water and says: "Bath!". Y/n nods and repeats the words. Katsuki nods and turns to leave.

The hot water feels good on y/n's skin. The cool mountain air already cooled down y/n's body and she's glad she can warm herself up a bit. Also, she hasn't washed herself since before the festival at the village. Now that she thinks about it, she must really stink. She wonders if Katsuki noticed.

Embarrassed, she scrubs her skin until it is burning. Katsuki's tribe must not care too much about smells at least there are no nice soaps or scented oils in the bathroom. Just an odorless curd soap. After y/n dried herself off, she wished she had some of that bee wax lotion that her mother made. Her mother always put some lavender oil in it which y/n find quite relaxing.

When she's done, she wraps the towel she found in the hut around her body. She doesn't want to put on her old dress since it's all sweaty and gross.

Katsuki isn't in the tent when she returns. She sits down on the bed while she waits for him. When she grows cold again, she loses the wet towel and wraps herself in one of the blankets.

After a while, the opening to the tent is lifted and Katsuki steps back into the room. He acknowledges her with a curt nod.

Y/n hops off the bed wrapped in the blanket. "Can I borrow some clothes from you?", she asks him. When she sees he doesn't understand, she holds up her dress and repeats: "Clothes?".

"Clothes?", he repeats and looks at the dress and then at her. Y/n can see the wheels in Katsuki's head turning. Suddenly, his eyes widen and he looks at the dress and then at her in realization.

The realization is that y/n is naked underneath the blanket.

Katsuki swallows hard. There's a naked woman wrapped in his blanket in his tent. Quickly, he tries to shake off the thought. He starts rummaging through the chests for some clothes for her.

He finds a woolen shirt and linen pants. He doesn't have any female clothes and he makes a note to get some for her tomorrow.

Katsuki throws the clothes at y/n and y/n almost drops the blanket. Katsuki wishes she would drop it. He's curious about how she looks naked. So, he tries his luck and keeps looking at her expectantly. Maybe she'll change in front of him.

She doesn't. Actually, Katsuki staring at her makes her a bit angry. It's rude, she thinks. "Turn around!", she tells him and makes a rotating movement with her index finger.

Katsuki waits another moment in hopes she will change her mind but then turns around. It takes all the self-restraint he possesses not to peek.

When he feels her hand on his arm, he turns around again.

"Socks?", y/n asks and shows him her naked feet and Katsuki scrambles for some socks. The socks are way too big for y/n but they are thicker than her own socks.

Y/n feels a lot better now that she wears some fresh clothes even though she must look ridiculous since the clothes are way too big for her and not something a woman would ever wear.

Katsuki however can't take his eyes off her. He hasn't taken her on as his mate yet and the fact that she wears his clothes is so... intimate to him. Like she's already his.

Y/n wraps the blanket around herself again since it's still way too cold for her in the tent. Katsuki leads her to the bed and makes her sit down.

He looks at her for a moment and pets her head for a second before telling her: "Stay here".

Y/n sighs deeply. She already learned what "stay" means. He must've told her a thousand times already. But, she doesn't complain.

She's tired and not in the mood to be confronted with his strange men outside. She just nods at him and lays down. Katsuki tucks her in and presses a kiss to her forehead.

When Katsuki leaves, it doesn't take long before y/n's eyes get droopy and she slips into a slumber.

Somewhen when the sun's already down, she is woken up by loud yelling outside. There are sounds of a celebration but y/n is too tired to care. She just pulls a pillow over her head and goes back to sleep again.

She's woken up roughly by Katsuki shaking her uninjured shoulder. He holds a steaming plate into her face.

Suddenly, y/n is awake in a second. Her stomach is grumbling. While y/n eats, Katsuki disappears into the stone hut.

The food is delicious. It's the stag meat and some form of mashed potatoes but spicier. While y/n eats, she notices how quiet it has gotten outside.

Seems like the party's over, she thinks when Katsuki returns to the main room again.

The food almost falls out of y/n's mouth.

He's naked. Absolutely butt-naked. He's not even trying to hide his manhood.

Y/n throws a pillow at him.

"What?", Katsuki snarks and y/n throws another pillow at him.

When he turns fully around at her to scold her for throwing things at him, y/n slaps her hands in front of her eyes.

"Tsk", Katsuki exclaims but has to hide his grin, "What? Did you expect me to act all innocent like you? This is my home, y'know. Also, you should get used to it!"

Y/n doesn't move until Katsuki puts on some proper clothes (which for him is thin linen pants and that's it) and even then her face is still burning red.

Katsuki lays down next to her and props up his head. Even though y/n's appetite is dimmed after the naked encounter, she finishes the plate to not seem ungrateful.

After she's put the plate away on the table, Katsuki grabs her waist when she returns to his bed. While it takes y/n by surprise, she doesn't fight it. Before she knows it, she's pinned beneath him and his lips are on hers.

Katsuki kisses her feverishly, starved even. As if he's been waiting all evening to kiss her. Which, to be fair, he did. The action overwhelms y/n for a second but when Katsuki doesn't pull back and y/n wraps her head around it, she kisses back.

Katsuki lets his hands wander. He avoids any body parts that get him hit with a pillow, at least for now. Y/n mirrors his actions and runs her hands up and down his arms and back.

Katsuki forces his tongue into y/n's mouth which she gladly accepts. With a dizzy head, she acknowledges that Katsuki is an extremely good kisser. At least to her. Not that she kissed that many people before.

When Katsuki starts pressing open-mouthed kisses onto her neck and collarbone, y/n lets out a breathy sigh. Katsuki's mouth and hands on her just feel too good.

While Katsuki's dick has been hard before this, it jumps at the sound y/n makes.

There's nothing more in the world he wants right now than tearing the clothes off of her and exploring every inch of her body with his mouth.

He knows it's off-limit until they become mates and for a second he contemplates if making her come on his tongue really breaks the rules since he's technically not mating her. He decides not to test the rage of the gods.

He detaches from her neck and rolls over facing her. Y/n is left lying on her back, breathing heavily.

"You asshole", she tells him and Katsuki has to laugh.

She turns to him and Katsuki opens his arms to her. Y/n crawls into his embrace while Katsuki pulls a heavy blanket over both of them.

For a while, they lay in silence. Katsuki strokes over y/n's back and presses a kiss onto her forehead every now and then. Somewhen Katsuki's movements become slower and eventually, they stop.

He must've fallen asleep, y/n thinks. Meanwhile, she's wide awake. She snuggles deeper into Katsuki's chest and listens to his soft, steady breathing.

Somehow, she feels at ease. Even though she's been brought to this place and its strange men. She should probably feel anxious about what happens tomorrow but she can't find it in her to stress out about it.

All thoughts eventually spin back to Katsuki and how she's sure that whatever happens, Katsuki will protect her.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tag list: @graviewaviee @cosmicbreathe @tsukikoxo @nnubee @witchbishsblog @elajede @bsallergy @frxcless @berryvioo @eyesforbkg @shamelesjaroflaffytaffy @pastelbaby1111 @iamlizardgod @plvt0fvtvre @hello-peanutdoodle-blog @guccirosegold @kookiemyfeelsposts @sweetblueworm @54fangirl @sakurarr1122 @rv19 @leeliyah @king-dynamight @confused-smol-fan @xmaudx @waterstarz @pinkwhiskerglitter @adeline96 @zoom1374 @fingui @giuli-in-earth @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @futuristicallykawaiiturtle @tragedyofabrokensoul @dynakats @rebel-loves-anime @cloudxluv @itsssyagurll @sunshineandwitchery @cloudxluv @hollykanuki @atouchofmidnight @nutellaenjoyer @musicbecky @miacitocco @cassouandco @penguinlovestowrite @sleepykittycx @bakugouswh0r3 @xxjesshuxx @helenamaximoff @ssssssws-world @k1tk4tkatsuki @gh0stgirl333 @anon-mouse223 @bexxs @i-am-ms-rebel-heart @wannabeisekai @spragaraga @faemagic88 @kolakoke @faetoraa @cax-per @willy-the-witch @stardream14 @jiyuu-da @mintytalesblog @sparklyoperaroadpie @musicbecky @maria-patricia @mistermemister @katsukismrs @l0kisbitch @bakukiriswife @rebel-loves-anime @drink-water-456

@spragaraga @fudo-aki @stillcrazystacey @bakkusimpp @itsiambaby @leelee28901 @angie-1306 @miniaturebouquet @skibbiescoober @weebperson2003 @maria-patricia @alicecil87 @darlink-xoxo @novthewolf @berryvioo @all-in-the-fandoms @deftonianfr @faemagic88 @l-bozo-l @kolakoke @stxrrielle @gold24fish @notsaelty

[Please comment beneath the last update if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters]

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

hi! last anon here again. i won't go over all your advice here, and there's some i disagree with, but i have found it helpful and insightful as a whole, so thank you. i don't know if you actually wanted clarification on these things, but i figured it would be worth providing in case you genuinely wanted it.

straps as female disidentification - i do see it as different from other sex aids; it's partially about not imposing man/woman sex dynamics on sex between women, and also that as part of recovering from trans identity i've been encouraged to disengage with any practices, thoughts, or self-beliefs that represent false consciousness/male identification, and that includes a desire to have a penis/penetrate women/take the male role, and replace that with meditation and mindfulness. unfortunately i suck at meditation so i haven't gotten anywhere. i see it more as a behavioural problem than an object problem; it's unhealthy because it's a maladaptive coping mechanism about reality; i don't have a penis and can never have one and pretending i do during intimacy is hurting a theoretical sex partner.

female infantilization - this is about the bush thing; attraction to shaved vulvas is dysfunctional and unnatural.

being put off women's bodies - again this is a dysphoria thing mostly. i like how pretty much all women's bodies look, particularly femmes, and before radfem stuff i mostly just felt horny seeing nude women, but being in an environment that's very focused on the importance of reproductive organs and secondary sex characteristics to female identity has involuntarily caused me to fixate on this; when i see a woman naked i end up thinking about her uterus and the size of her breasts and her hips in relation to passing; i know that things like testosterone/hysterectomies/double masectomies/binding are really unhealthy for you physically and psychologically now, so seeing a woman's body makes me uncomfortable now because i just feel a kind of despair that if she has big breasts or big hips she'll never be able to pass for male without hurting herself and if she has small breasts or hips she got lucky with natural androgyny and she's wasting it, either way neither her or me have any way out of this and we're female forever. which is not very arousing.

once again, thank you for your advice. it's definitely given me a lot to think about (and read). i appreciate you hearing me out.

I'm actually stoked for a response, because these clarifications are very illuminating and genuinely so saddening to read.

that entire paragraph about disavowing the strap is genuinely tragic to me, as an advocate that people should just fuck however they want to fuck. you'd think if womanhood was such an innate and unchangeable thing then a fake dong wouldn't have the power to somehow impose manhood in a relationship between women, but I guess the strap is more powerful than I realized. I would love to know if this applies to fingering, given that you can't really argue that fingers are specific to any gender, or women who use straps to peg their male partners.

being told to meditate instead of want to fuck women is so funny, it's really giving 15th century nunnery.

you may not have been born with a penis but it is just literally a factual reality that you could have on if you wanted; regardless of what radfems think of it, phalloplasty is a very real surgery that can in fact produce a sexually functional penis that many people are extremely satisfied with.

okay sure super normal to fixate on someone's uterus.

I do actually very seriously need to correct this part: testosterone/hysterectomies/double mastectomies/binding are not unhealthy. they're healthcare, and the people who benefit from them - which, reminder, is not only trans people - tend to experience tremendous boosts to their physical and mental health because of it. there's nothing radical at all about opposing people's rights to determine what they do with their own bodies, and between that and the hyperfixation on reproductive organs you sound /this/ close to explaining why women shouldn't be allowed to get abortions.

in the politest way possible if looking at women makes you sad because it reminds you of your own dysphoria, you need to get out of radfem spaces and start hanging with some trans people who can help you figure some stuff out and help you envision a future where you don't fear your own body and sexuality.

[neechees]

How is the cult from Midsommer white supremacist? Because they are swedish and borrow from paganism? The nazis appropriated Norse culture, they even misused different runes and symbols, and Scandinavia is one of the most tolerant regions in Europe.

There's Nazi imagery throughout the film, & the fact that all the poc die first is no mistake. Ari Aster himself has said that the Harga are White Supremacists:

Defying an outdated horror trope, Aster does not kill off Josh (William Jackson Harper) — the only black character for miles — first. As Aster points out, though, the Hårga are racist, a callback to “a part of Swedish history and European history,” and all of the “outsiders” or “new blood” recruited for mating are purposely white.

“He’s thrown away in a way that the other members of the main cast are not," Aster notes. “And that is because these people have no further use for him.”

The Harga, when not inbreeding with each other, go out and groom new members to either 1. Be sacrified or 2. Introduce new genes by manipulating people into the cult or drugging & raping them (what they did to Dani & Christian), & they ONLY pick white people for this. There are no nonwhite Harga & that's not an accident.

The script also makes it crystal clear that the nonwhite couple were specifically chosen (bc they are not white) & brought there to be sacrificed & were never going to live. The member that brought the nonwhite couple displays hatred & malice towards them when they're not looking, but doesn't do this with the other white outsiders

(Ingemar is the Harga that brought Connie & Simon, the nonwhite couple). Connie & Simon didn't do anything wrong, they didn't do anything outright to insult the Harga. The only thing they did was be shocked about seeing the ritual suicide & express desire to leave (and they weren't the only ones who did this, Dani also did). And yet they were some of the first to die.

Even the visuals-- the Harga wear all White, it's always in blinding daylight. Whiteness is a GLARING theme. There's also foreshadowing early on in the film, where a book titled "The secret Nazi language of the Uthark" featured in Christian's room just before they go to Sweden.

There's also other Nazi ideology present within the Harga, such as the strict gender roles (the women all wear dresses & cook & clean & care for the children together but the men butcher the bear together), eugenics & ableism (the elderly are killed off at a certain age because they see disability & needing to be cared for as an elder "shameful", which is what one Harga states at the ritual suicide scene, & of course killing off the nonwhite characters), the "return to tradition" ideology (there are NO modern technology in the community, & it's in the countryside).

You see a cult full of ONLY White people, using Norse paganism (something VERY popular with Nazis) in an isolated area, who routinely murder poc, don't intermix with poc, kill off their elderly, Dani (the blonde, light eyed white girl) is praised for her beauty & made their May queen by the Harga, with strict gender roles, & this film was made by a JEWISH MAN to show the Harga as the bad guys, & you don't have a hunch that the Harga are maybe supposed to be white supremacists/nazis? That doesn't raise any red flags for you?

& let's not forget how Scandanavia committed genocide against the Saami, the Indigenous population who were there for hundreds of years before anyone else. That's a little off topic, but as a First Nations Canadian I aint gunna let that just go unacknowledged. Scandanavia has a white supremacy problem too, & Ari Aster is right for pointing it out

[euniexenoblade]

I'm transmasc and I don't think I completely understand the discussion around TMA/TME.

I'm pretty sure I mostly agree with you. Like, "transandrophobia" is not a helpful or accurate description of the transmasc experience, and I can see how it could be used to belittle what transfems go through.

Transfems definitely get more attention from hate groups. Transmasc erasure sucks, but it can definitely be a blessing when the bigots are picking their targets.

I keep seeing posts comparing trans men to incels and MRAs. I haven't seen many transmascs who would warrant that comparison.

That's not to say it's necessarily an unfair comparison. On the contrary, it probably means that there's a lot of transmisogyny going around that I'm not seeing. And if I'm not seeing it, that probably means I'm inadvertently participating in it.

IDK why I felt the need to send this to you. I guess I was hoping you'd tell me how to do better, which totally isn't your job. Feel free to ignore me and/or tell me to fuck off.

I'll send you $20 for tolerating my bullshit. Have a nice day.

Ok I wanna answer this before I get too high (I'm honestly feeling it already). Thank you for the $20, when I realized I forgot to pack a lunch today that money helped me eat still so legit thank you.

So first off, "trans women get more attention from hate groups, transmasc erasure sucks but can be a blessing." (I can't copy and paste on this screen, so I'm paraphrasing) yes but I wouldn't call erasure a blessing, no matter who it's for. They're two sides of a very fucked coin, on the one side transfems get lots of attention and vitriol, and the erasure of transmascs makes it harder for some transmascs to understand they can be trans. But on top of that, the form of transfems we see are never real representation, 99% of the time it's a transmisogynistic ideal of trans women, it's the weirdo white boy spreading lipstick all over their face just before they smash the mirror in a fit of "dysphoria" kind of shit. Though transfems have extreme visibility, our actual selves are not visible, we are ultra violet rapist horn dogs or we're the super ignorant, super emotional crybaby.

And, a side tangent, cuz you sorta did a thing the transandrodorks do that is frustrating. It's not a measurement of what's "worse." That's not how oppression works, that's not what we are saying, we are talking about the forms of oppression.

Men are not oppressed for being men. They can be oppressed for a variety of things, racism, ableism, interphobia (is this the right term I forget), homophobia, etc etc. Masculinity is rewarded, masculinity is the desire, patriarchy exists so men get to be above women. Things like "misandry" do not exist, they are inventions of violently misogynistic men, your MRAs, your incels, your conservatives (this includes liberals btw).

The person who coined "transandrophobia" used to talk about wanting to correctively rape lesbians. I'm not gonna go at someone's kinks, but the blog was not presented as a kink blog, I literally went there myself and read the posts when this first popped off and they come off as true lesbophobia in the context of their blog and coupled with the misandry posting, this person literally looks like MRAs and incels. The defense the community uses is "it's a kink are you kink shaming?? It was on a private locked blog!" Which, the latter, no it wasn't, I literally went there and looked, and the former. Idk I think if you're saying you want correctively rape lesbians while also talking about misandry and counting "transandrophobia," you look misogynistic and homophobic.

The main writers people follow for transandrophobia related content are straight up liars, who make shit up, and one specific non horse entity consistently cites himself as his own "source" and when he doesn't, he cites terf blogs that are connected to kiwifarms and sites of the sort. They will take bits talked about in feminism and present it as a thing they discovered and present it as transandrophobia. Ie. "Men can't show any femininity and can't cry and that's misandry" despite things like this are discussed at length in feminist texts, men can't do these things cuz that makes them more "woman" in the societal lens. Yeah it's fucked, but it's misogyny, not misandry.

I am, consistently, misgendered by the transandrodorks, and so is every other trans woman that disagrees with them. And it's definitely intentional.

Then there are token trans women who don't know much of anything about feminism or transphobia and will straight up harass you for saying women are oppressed. They often weaponize transmisogyny against other transfems, they misgender, suicide bait, or in velvetvexations case, will stalk your blog for two days even though you ignore her and when she's sees you're on a date with your wife, she goes to your wife's blog and starts messaging her instead. Legit, this woman is one of the worst people on this website, the only reason she's not seen as communismkills 2 is cuz men like her.

On top of this, terfs consistently support "transandrophobia" as a concept and constantly say that transandrophobia is compatible with terf ideology. The transandrodork community is ripe with terfs and crypto terfs. Like that one who said he hoped a friend and I get raped, cuz saying "men arent oppressed" warrants wishing rape on people. Or the trans guy that outright said "trans women are male" and tripled down harder saying "trans women don't experience misogyny and oppress transmascs cuz they're really men," claims that were so wild that even velvetvexations couldn't agree with them lol.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: not every person that believes in transandrophobia is a bigot or a bad person. A lot are just young transmascs who are under read about oppression and history, and this terf/transphobe community swoops in and pretends to be representing them and sucks them in. For every disparaging transmisogynist piece, there's two more that are talking about the problems of transmascs. So when you tell these guys "that's a hate group" they don't remember the post calling trans women men, they remember stuff about T being super illegal. So they think we are attacking them for having a problem, not the actual bigotry on display.

Honestly, if these people would just stop misgendering trans women, they might have more trans women who'd be nice to em. But that's the consistent trend.

Transandrophobia is a violent, transmisogynistic ideology that is propped up by terf ideology. That's why they are compared to MRAs and incels.

[nekropsii]

your staunch defense of transfeminine people in a community where we're so routinely mocked and sidelined does not go unnoticed or unappreciated.

you're doing a fantastic thing

Hey, I'm glad it's doing something!! It was... Kind of radicalizing realizing that no one's fucking normal, actually, they just say they are. But the really, really radicalizing thing - the thing that got me to start being very loud and aggressive about it all - was getting hit with wave after wave of misdirected Transmisogyny for two reasons...

I acknowledged Transfem reads of characters exist, and stated that I actually - gasp! - enjoy some of them, even over the popular Transmasc readings of the same characters. Getting hit with backlash for this was expected, but I didn't foresee how that would manifest. Several people - all self-reporting as trans men, weirdly - flooded my notes and inbox talking down to me, treating me like I'm stupid, and that I don't understand Transmasc struggles (I do, I just distinctly was not talking about them), and... Most vexingly, treating me like I'm a woman, and acknowledging me as such. By saying I, for example, preferred a Transfeminine reading of Dave over the popular Transmasculine one - by simply bringing up trans women in a conversation that didn't include putting them down - I had apparently branded myself as a stupid bimbo woman in their eyes that desperately needed mansplaining to. By discussing trans women positively, I had branded myself as an "other", and needed to be treated as such. I don't understand why it was all trans men doing this - you'd think they'd know better than to start misgendering and condescending people just because they started talking about feminism or trans rights. You'd think they'd understand meeting feminism with traumadumping is inappropriate.

I put a Cis Woman in my Webcomic, and she apparently wasn't feminine enough for some fucking people. Mind you, none of us on the Dev Team ever really thought that she was any degree of Masculine. She was never designed to be masculine, and she wasn't designed with transness in mind. We'd always referred to her internally as a cis woman. She just happens to have broad shoulders, narrow-ish hips, an Adam's apple, a bigger nose, and some serpentine heat pits on her face that happen to look like facial hair.

This is her. The uncanny, ugly, mannish freak who should've just been a boy. She looks normal! She's just a regular woman! Apparently, when you tell people that what human beings would identify as sex characteristics are totally randomized on an alien bug species because that alien bug species literally only has one sex, that's cool and based until it's applied to women? Even then, these are all traits that some normal human cis women have in real life. What's even more jarring is that almost all of the Transmisogyny thrown at me over Tejuri's appearance was done over fucking Cohost - the website people fled to specifically to escape Tumblr's Transmisogyny. The site that touts its pride in getting rid of all Transphobes. God.

I've noticed that people often preach their alliance not as a genuine statement but as a way to keep with the trends. A lot of reblogs on posts about loving trans women are viewing them as either a body ("loving trans women" taken as synonymous with wanting to have sex with them), an object ("loving trans women" taken as their value being synonymous with their romancability), or a token (saying that you "love trans women" is the latest political trend in progressive spheres, and professing this makes you look like a better person, even if you don't mean it). I've learned recently that a lot of people don't know anything about Queer Theory or Transfeminism. A lot of people apparently don't even realize Transfeminism exists. It's been a fucking wild past few months. Things I thought were just basic human decency and common sense apparently need to be stated, because it turns out my standards for what counts as "basic human decency" is a lot higher than most. Wild. @_@

Every time someone pulls this stupid horseshit on me, I get more annoying and more powerful. Nothing's gonna make me back down. At the end of the day, I have the privilege of being able to shut up and stop facing harassment. That's not a privilege trans women have. It's why true allies cannot stop fighting even when it does get a little hard. We can put the weapons down. They cannot.

Every now and then I think about the phrase "Trans Women are the Women of Women". Every day, it becomes more true.

[oikasugayama]

Hihihi! Can I please please please request BSD men with an older fem! s/o? Especially Dazai, Kunikida, Sigma and Fyodor but feel free to add more! I have this very distinct convo in my head that I can’t stop thinking abt and it goes smth like this:

~

*Dazai doing his usual women flirting, holding your hand and staring up at you with sparkling doe eyes and rosy cheeks*

Reader: “Oh, I’m truly flattered, darling, but it’s just that a boy like yourself…you’re just a bit too young for me.”

Dazai: “Young? Well, my dear belladonna, I don’t under-“

Reader: “I’m 43, honey.”

*He is visibly surprised, mouth forming an ‘o’ shape and eyes widening before he recovers, a charming smile slipping on once more.*

Dazai: “Well then, ma’am, I must say that you aged like a fine wine because you don’t look a day over twenty-one! I know that I’m probably inexperienced compared to you, but at least give me a chance to prove myself!”

~

Idk man, I just need BSD men with an older woman, who is mature and elegant and maternal and experienced.

i cringe so hard every time someone writes dazai saying b****d**** to his partner 🤢 sorry anon, it had to be said.

Dazai's is smutty, Kunikida's is fluffy.

Dazai likes the mature look, he likes the well-developed body, he likes the attitude and casual confidence that comes with an older woman. a hint of gray at the edge of a woman's bangs makes him start the chase. he looooves gentle aging on the face, thinks mature women are so beautiful.

he definitely chases them for short relationships, nothing serious. he'd like to take them out, spend some time being a young little shit and flirting his balls off, only to turn into putty in the older woman's hands when she suggests he come back to her place, because he's so young and must have a roommate, so they'd have more privacy at her place ;)

he tires to take the lead, but he usually inevitably lets the older woman tell him what to do because he wants to do exactly what she wants. of course the woman is usually pleased to know such a good looking younger man is so attracted to her, and of course she wants that hot man on top of her, but with her age comes experience and she's gonna make sure they both have an excellent time when he gives her the reins.

dazai likes the most when his partner takes her shirt and bra off and her boobs lower and naturally hang. he likes playing with them, sucking on them, especially when the woman runs her hand through his hair and holds him. if he has a complex because he didn't know his mother, no he doesn't. don't talk about it. while in this position one woman says to him "drink up baby, don't you like mommy's titties?" and it makes his dick throbbbbb.

from then on he realizes he likes calling women mommy in bed more than he likes being called daddy. he wants a hot mommy to play with, he wants to get pussy drunk, thrusting desperately and rapidly, chanting/moaning "mommy, mommy, mommy," while she tells him he's a good boy and he can cum in her pussy whenever he's ready.

Meanwhile, Kunikida...

His ideal woman is older than him. obviously he gives up most of his ideals after his coworkers make fun of it and tell him it's unrealistic and honestly kind of disrespectful to women, but one thing he knows for sure: he just prefers older women. he thinks they're beautiful, he loves how intelligent and experienced they are, he loves when they give him advice on things they've experienced already that he's only going through for the first time, he loves how confident they are, he loves that they're independent, he honestly can't think of a thing he doesn't find appealing about an older woman.

when he's ready to date, he specifically approaches mature looking women. he gets to know several, dates around for a short while, but relatively soon he finds The One. She's beautiful, she's intelligent and kind, she's independent but enjoys having his company.

They get serious quickly and within a year they've decided to move in together to save on costs, so he moves into her home. he enjoys waking up to her and having another presence in his home. it's very comforting and something he missed after moving out of his family home and into the ADA dorm.

he's SO proud walking around town holding his partner's hand. he isnt very fond of PDA and it isn't the most acceptable thing, but a simple hand-hold is enough to show that they're partners in a fairly subtle way.

kunikida isn't ashamed at all if/when someone asks if they're related rather than dating; he always very politely says they're partners and deflects any further conversation.

he will NOT take shit from his coworkers about his partner. he tells them off so harshly the first time they try that even dazai doesn't make jokes about the age difference anymore, unless he's drunk like at the ADA holiday party when he called kunikida's partner a MILF right to her face, making her toss her head back and laugh. she didn't mind, so kunikida let it slide.

[r0-boat]

Instinct

Male! Dragon! OC x AFAB!gn!reader

Feat: Yandere OC Silas

Cw: possessive behavior, yandere character, mentions of murder, mentions of blood, animalistic behavior, biting, claiming bite.

NSFW

Thank you @devotion-disorder for this lovely art piece I'm so glad I commissioned you!!

You smell good.

So good.

Your Skin;

So Soft to the touch,

smooth and unblemished,

just begging for a mate to pin you down and sink his fangs into. Your mere presence was tempting.

Silas knew full well that as the months got warmer and the snow melted, more primal desires started to call to him. An animalistic need that demanded satisfaction. However, a Duke dub Cedric from a neighboring kingdom invited him to a ball and offered he could not refuse even if he wanted to. The Duke was kind enough to Grant him a plus-one, and now, standing before you in an outfit that the maids and tailor specifically prepared for you, how the woven silk fabric hugged every part of your body, oh, how he wishes he could forget that stupid party and rip your outfit in two and ravish you right here in this carriage.

His hungry eyes did not go unnoticed by you. Even now, as elegant and princely as he looked, Silas looked like a caged, starving animal. His eyes were only on you the entire night, even as other more elegant women wine and flaunted their bodies to get his attention, only to clutch their pearls in frustration when the prince only had eyes for you.

Silently stalking behind you like your shadow glaring down upon you like a premium steak on his plate ready to devour you.

But Silas held back his urges for the sake of his reputation, as all Noble eyes were on him. He stopped following you around like a lost puppy and began mingling with Sir Cedric. Talks of trade business gossip from other kingdoms were a much-needed but small distraction from the burning in his core, but now and then, he would sneak a little glances at you. His pupils waning into slits as he watched the other attendants stare at you with the same hungry eyes he had been.

Veins rush with adrenaline when one of the Nobles who had been eyeing you gets the courage to approach you.

The conversation becomes background noise as he tries to concentrate on what that man is saying to you, glaring daggers at the noble, making you smile and chuckle. The dragon in him hissed and snarled, becoming more and more restless. To it, you are an unclaimed potential mate being pursued by a rival.

Silas feels his claws threatening to rip out of his gloves. He clutches his fist with images of the noble's blood painting the walls of the ballroom, Imagining the taste of his flesh on his tongue. He quickly storms out as the Duke is still talking to him.

You look over to see Silas approaching the both of you.

Eyes burning with fury, be prepared yourself for a gruesome site only for it to never come.

" Excuse me, gentlemen, my apologies for interrupting your conversation, but I believe I asked this lovely person to dance with me."

Silas said politely, eyes still burned with a jealous rage that you were all too familiar with. A small, gentle smile on his face, Which only made him more unsettling. And his hand ever so gently stroking your hip, has he pulled you closer to him.

The man, a kind soul, really, took the hint. If he were to stay within your presence any longer than he'd had, this Prince would make him disappear.

"Ah, Sorry, Your Highness, I hadn't realized they were taken already."

Yes, taken… They are mine

A shiver goes down your spine when your eyes meet his, giving off a slight draconic glow of violet piercing into your very soul.

As you danced with him, his hold around you was tight, and his touch was borderline sensual as he caressed your parts in ways along with notice. You flushed, knowing that you couldn't do anything while Silas was feeling your body in public. Even as you try to look away, he moves his head to keep your eyes on him.

"Don't look away from me." He whispered a husky, demanding tone, his thumb gently pressing against your bottom lip as he forced your head back to him. His thumbs wipes across your bottom lip. His fang sinks into his, Imagining the taste of your lips upon his

"Eyes on me, dear."

With the last of his self-control, he lasted from the dance the carriage ride home, letting out a low-throated purr, seeing your small body sat pretty in his lap, his large veiny hand underneath your clothes grasping at your bare thigh. He stayed eerily quiet even as you tried to talk to him. He'd only give one-word answers or hums, his mind thinking of only one thing. His gaze focused on your unblemished neck, shoulders, and collarbone. You feel his hand squeeze your plush thigh, fingers dipping dangerously close to your core. Silas's breath tickles your neck, gently pressing kisses up until he nibbles on your ear. Finally, he whispers.

" As soon as we get out of this carriage, you are coming into my bed tonight. Do you understand?" He smiles as he sees you nod obediently.

When the carriage finally does stop as at his Castle, he immediately has you in his arms, carrying you like a bride, to his chambers, throwing you onto his large bed, going back to the door to lock it.

When you sit up, you see him breathing heavily, his face flushed red, looking back at you with that familiar, hungry look. Silas slowly begins to peel off his clothing one by one as he makes his way closer to the bed to you.

"Do you know what you do to me?" A growl rips from his throat, now half naked, his fingers playing with his belt.

" all night, as I suffer, you sit pretty looking up at others with those big doe eyes.

He creeps closer, hands pressing against the mattress as he leans into your face.

" walking around and then gorgeous outfit men drooling over you like panting dogs. Unaware of who has already claimed you.

He caresses your cheek before his hand slides down, grabbing the collar of your outfit. Pulling you downward, your forehead rested against his.

"Strip."

Claws dug into the fabric. If this weren't off in five seconds, it would be torn off your body.

He watched you slowly shimming out of your outfit. With each delicious amount of skin exposed, he touched and caressed.

Your thighs, your hips, your stomach, your chest. The Prince couldn't keep his hands off you. He could barely hold back when he pressed you into the mattress, a hand secured firmly around your throat.

Fingers trail down your stomach, slipping beneath your undergarments. Thick fingers press. Play with your core. Pressing gently at your tight entrance, fondling your walls, listening to the sweet sounds of your insides as he stirs them. He releases your neck, caressing your cheek as he leans down to taste your lips. His breath shakes as he goes down for another. His tongue is sliding into your mouth as he deepens the kiss, his fingers tangling in your hair pulling you deeper. He presses his entire naked body against you. You could feel how hard he was straining his pants.

"I want you."

His voice shakes in desperation

"I want to be the only man you look at.

"I want to claim you as mine, to make it so everyone knows who you belong to."

His hand slips to his belt, undoing it, while remaining eye contact.

" I need to be inside you,"

He keeps looking at your core, licking his lips.

" But first, it has been a while since I've tasted you. Let me make you feel good."

Grabbing your ass, he lifts your lower half with ease. He lets out a feral growl as he goes down onto your core, eating you like a starved beast. His eager tongue tastes all of you because he puts his whole mouth on your little body. Lewd noises of his lips slurping your wetness fill the room, which only turns him on more, his feral growls turning into whimpering moans, grinding his hips against nothing in particular. You clenched the bed sheets, wailing and trembling, your body trying its best to squirm away from the intense pleasure only for him to hold you tighter.

You were not getting away from him.

Silas needed to make you cum to taste your essence on his tongue. He needed to feel that satisfaction of knowing that no other man could make you feel the way he feels.

His eyes rolled back when your hand tangled in his hair, pulling on his long jet locks as you braced yourself for your own orgasm. He holds his mouth in place, drinking every last drop of you. Finally, finishing his meal, he drops you like a rag doll, wiping his mouth with his hand before licking his fingers. He was no longer a man at that point, with only one thing on his mind: he flips you over, a firm hand on the back of your neck, pressing you down. He slipped his cock out of his pants, his big hand manhandling your ass open. Your entrance is wet enough with the saliva, cum, and juices, even with his vast draconic cock. He forced himself inside with one motion, mounting you like an animal. You felt his breath already against your ear as he put his hand around your throat. His pace was rough and relentless, grinding his hips with each thrust, trying to drill as deep as he could.

"Mine! Mine! Mine! Mine! All mine!"

He repeats like a mantra. You can feel the tip of his dick pressing against the sweet spot inside you, making you clench around his thick rigid shaft feeling every monstrous and inhuman ridge on his dragon cock. His cock felt hot, threatening to burn you out from the inside. You cum again on his cock. Silas is lost and in pleasure, mercilessly fucking you through your orgasm. He removes his hand from your throat, snaking it till around your mouth, muffling your sweet screams when you feel his teeth sink into your neck, his sharp, beastly fangs piercing, breaking your skin as the taste of your blood feels his mouth; he explodes inside you, his whole body is shaking the sheer pleasure making tears well up in his eyes. His hips still as he grinds every last drop deep inside you, claiming you for himself, claiming you in the most primal way any man can. You go limp into his arms, and he catches you, supporting your entire body in his arms. Silas, in a daze licking the new wound on the back of your neck, gently suckling the red liquid from the new mark; his cock throbbed deep inside you, still hard, and his body still felt hot.

"I need more."

[makeyoumine69]

My Lovely Detective VI

— PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Detective!OC

— CO-WRITER: @iron-flavored-lipgloss

— CONTAINS: Dub-con smut, accidental voyeurism, fingering, choking, blow jobs, manhandling, degradation, dirty talk, pet names.

— WORDS: 2.4k

— A/N: Hello dear readers, here's a new chapter! We hope you enjoy it and please feel free to share your opinions with us! Big hugs

— LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [SERIES MASTERLIST]; [AO3].

Loosing Myself

Nothing had ever stopped Patrick from getting exactly what he wanted; the little boy who had always owned every new shiny toy and whose pets had disappeared under mysterious circumstances had long since become a man who now bathed in the shallow pleasures of endless luxury, drugs, sex...

It was true that most women only slept with him for the power of money, a purely transactional affair, or in the hope of siphoning off his wealth and status. 'Although that's not to say that these sharp features and the size of my cock don't help in attracting these whores,' Bateman mused briefly, his hand running down his flat stomach and stroking his hardening length in self-indulgent fascination.

"No" doesn't exist in his world, because "yes" is usually just a matter of payment, and so he finds a certain satisfaction in taking what wasn't even part of the deal. Those materialistic sluts screaming underneath him, realizing that they made a miscalculation, that he will rip and rape their bodies, because nothing is worth anything to him anymore, and death is the real price of a night with him. No woman has ever come close enough (or lived long enough) to know the real Patrick Bateman. But Andrea, who he kidnapped and brutalized, and who was now begging him to fuck her...

'Is she losing it? Are there now two lunatics living on the 11th floor of the American Gardens building?'

"You're a stupid fucking bitch," Patrick groaned, confused and yet aroused by the desperation in her voice, her body writhing and shaking with what seemed to be a serious need for him. "I guess I already fucked your brain out, Detective," he muttered, emphasizing her profession with a certain mockery as his hand wandered between her legs. She was so wet that his fingers slid effortlessly into her this time and Patrick couldn't help but laugh in disbelief.

"You really are a dirty, filthy whore to me," he realized as Andrea took one finger after another inside her, more than ready for him, but now of all times he was dragging things out. All this in spite of the fact that Patrick was aching for her at this very moment, rubbing his erection against the silk sheets to take the edge off. 

He was creating a special kind of torture for both of them with the way his thumb kept teasing her clit, his mouth instead attacking the sensitive area around her inner thighs, leaving bruising kisses on the plump flesh. Andrea's skin was so warm to his touch, a heat that radiated not only from her body but also from the look in her eyes as she met Patrick's gaze. 

"Not satisfied with my fingers, huh? Then I need you to be more specific. I need you to tell me exactly how you want me to fuck you."

No, that was not her, it was simply not possible. Andrea, she always knew, wouldn't act like a fucking whore in heat, but... but what if that Andrea was already gone? Lost in the chaos of pain, filth and depravity?

"Ah," the woman gasped as Bateman pulled her hips toward his groin, the leaking head of his cock slipping teasingly between her pussy lips, now so swollen they literally blossomed with arousal. "I want...I want to feel you deep inside me...all of you-aahhh!"

The moment Patrick began to thrust his hips against her rear, all of her insides were already on fire, it was like a fucking torture to be stuck in the middle between being so empty and so full. 

Whimpering, Andrea wanted to bite the blanket to stop herself from crying. Although her pathetic condition could be seen in the mirror on the other side of the bedroom. "Please, just, take me," the woman turned to face him, his prominent eyebrows knitted together as the man was so focused on the process before his hazel eyes; the sight of Andrea's moist, tight cunt enveloping his veiny dick with such eagerness. "Patrick, mmm-Patrick!"

Did she just moan his name? Did she? Or was that not her?

Trapped in her own internal conflict, the Detective fell limp on the sheets under the weight of Bateman's muscles, and that one move gave him the perfect opportunity to bury himself as deep as he could until his balls began to slap her curvy butt.

A low, almost animalistic grunt erupted from the man's chest as he thrust into her, then again and again. Each time was harder and more savage, Andrea had to push the fabric of the covers into her mouth, using it as a gag, her pussy struggling to take him all in, even though it was quite difficult.

"Mmhm," she murmured, almost screaming, while her hands raked around the bed, not knowing what to grab on to, but the next second Patrick fixated them in front of her face and lowered himself even closer to her, so that now his hot breath fanned around her neck, scorching her tender skin. "Big...so big, a-awww." Andrea convulsed several times as the man grabbed her hair with no mercy, forcing her to look up at him.

Those dark eyes, they were the eyes of the devil, nothing more, nothing less. 

It had been days since Detective Donald Kimball had last heard from his assistant, and considering her last assignment had been the interrogation of Patrick Bateman, it was obvious what must have happened.

Now Kimball had to admit it to himself—letting her go alone had been a miscalculation. He had simply assumed that Bateman would be more rational. 

Because even though the serial killer had taken the trouble to cover his tracks this time, Kimball knew where to look first. 

He had been skulking around the American Garden building for days, fully expecting not to be greeted with a single sign of life from Miss Moore. He was ready to expose Bateman for what seemed to have cost his colleague his life - until he saw Andrea Moore through the window. 

Very compromising, not well, but obviously alive. 

For some reason, Bateman must have taken a liking to her, because why else hadn't he killed the woman who was sitting next to him like a ticking time bomb?

Was this man just waiting for his luck to run out? Was he longing for Kimball's punishment?

Which he could have given to Bateman. 

He should have called for backup to storm the apartment immediately. 

But after 20 years of service, he was motivated by more than honor and a handshake. The government paycheck didn't reflect his excellent work, Kimball had decided.

Just as Kimball was about to leave this place, tired of wasting his time just looking at the motionless female body on Bateman's big bed, an owner of that luxury apartment appeared in the detective's vision. Patrick, naked in all his glory, moved slowly toward Andrea, who was still lying on the bed, probably unconscious. And only then did Kimball understand what all this could mean—Bateman had finally found his perfect little doll, or rather, a helpless slave.

For a moment, the man put down his binoculars, wondering if he really wanted to know what was about to happen. With a sigh, Kimball let curiosity take over, and now he was back to watching the couple, who were completely unaware of a sudden onlooker. But even if Bateman knew, he would probably enjoy it. Why had Kimball thought of this? Maybe because of the big camera that was right in front of the king-size bed, the sheets of which were so white that it was painful to look at them.

As in the pornographic movies that were quite popular these days, Patrick positioned himself over the dark-haired woman and gripped her neck hard enough to bruise, Donald could swear he could hear her shaky gasping next to him. Was he going to kill her afterwards? At some point, the detective couldn't believe that his assistant had been here all this time. The train of thought distracted him for a moment, but when he returned to the lewd performance, the man almost dropped the binoculars from the way Andrea was sucking Bateman's huge cock as if her life depended on it. But maybe it was? 

Too many questions and no answers. Too much depravity and literally no shame in their movements, it all looked like they had done it so many times before. Patrick's tight grip on the back of her head, urging her to go faster, to take him deeper, until she felt the scratch in her throat, until his cum dripped from her luscious lips and down her chin.

There was something about the way Bateman bent her neck so their lips could meet, oblivious to the taste of his own release, perhaps even turned on by it. About Andrea pressing her soft body so willingly against Bateman's defined abdomen. And if Bateman had ever harbored violent urges toward Miss Moore, now was clearly not the time to convince her; they both sank back onto the white sheets, his broad shoulders almost completely blocking the view of her smaller frame to the voyeuristic eye of Detective Donald Kimball. 

Andrea's legs wrapped around Bateman's surprisingly slender waist, clinging to him as if he might disappear forever if she didn't. Their bodies turned, and if this was a fight, it had to be a very passionate one...

Bateman's hand all over her, on her face, her waist, her backside.

Kimball couldn't help but make an embarrassing noise, fortunately only audible to his own ears, and he gripped the binoculars tighter in response. 

He would never have expected this from a woman who dressed so conservatively every day. What surprised him even more was how a man like Bateman could be so enraptured by a single tantalizing, if not a little trashy, tattoo. 

Massaging the inked skin and kissing his way lower between her legs...

Kimball couldn't say he fully understood what was going on between them, at least psychologically, because the physical attraction was clear to him even from this distance. It was evident in the way Bateman buried his head deeper between her legs, grinding against the sheets, and Andrea's body convulsed and shook with undisguised pleasure.

And Kimball felt relief of a different kind wash over him - for now there was a way for his depraved mind to justify the next step: A private offer Mr. Bateman couldn't refuse.

How many days have passed? Andrea could never know, since she was imprisoned in a golden cage on the 11th floor of the American Gardens Building. The apathy seemed to reach its limits, and the woman even began to refuse to eat, shower, or even leave Bateman's bedroom, hiding under the covers like a frightened animal. Such an attitude only made Patrick more cruel and brutal, Andrea's skin was like a canvas for his marks, such as bruises, scratches or even bites, which he left each time they fucked, but he always took care of them meticulously, applying some balm and bandage.

Why couldn't he just let her die? Why did he keep dragging her out of bed day after day to give her a bath, as if she were his dear pet that he loved to take care of? Well, maybe she really was? The meals Patrick gave her were extremely nutritious and healthy, they were deliciously cooked, but Andrea could never really enjoy their taste. Colors seemed to leave her current life as well as her former self. She was like an empty, broken phial, and all of Bateman's attempts to fill it up were unsuccessful, to say the least; the fact that he was possessively pumping her with his seed didn't count. Though, it was a fucking miracle that the woman hadn't gotten pregnant yet. 

'If I'm really stuck here forever, there's only one way out,' Andrea thought to herself as she watched Bateman cutting an apple for her in the kitchen, the knife so sharp that Patrick didn't even have to use any pressure to cut the fruit. 'I should try to kill him,' she jerked away as the man appeared in front of the kitchen island and offered her a slice of apple with a wicked glint in his hazel eyes. 

"I'm not hungry," Andrea muttered, turning away and crossing her arms. The only thing she could think about now, besides the constant plotting of her possible escape, was the upcoming party Bateman was going to take her to. Even though she still couldn't believe that he was actually going to let her go out with him. It was so weird. "Am I really going with you? Or it's just another evil joke?"

There was an undisguised challenge in Andrea's voice that only fueled Bateman's interest in her. This woman was like an unruly element, a force he wanted to tame so badly, and he knew that one day he would eventually do it.

"No jokes, honey," Patrick sneered, leaning against the kitchen counter, the apple slice still in his hand. "But," the man suddenly straightened up and walked around the corner to get even closer to Andrea. "This is not an ordinary party, this is a special one."

"Special?"

Smirking haughtily, the man stopped right next to her, his one hand already finding a place on her shoulder, kneading it in a relaxing way, but it only made her more nervous. "Yes, it's hosted by one of my friends from Wall Street," his soft baritone echoed off the walls, creating a strangely hypnotic vibe. "I'm sure you'll like it."

With a devilish grin, Patrick quickly popped the apple slice into his mouth before drawing close to Andrea's face and in the next second, their lips collided in a sweet but possessive kiss. The fruit was so tasty and soft that its juice spilled out and ran down the woman's chin and neck. Holding her in place with his strong arm, Bateman pulled away only to catch the small drops of sugary fluid running down her soft skin, causing Andrea to shiver, but she managed to stifle a moan.

"Does your friend know what you've done?" She asked quietly, her head tilted to the side, and even though his touch was pleasurable, there was no way she was going to show it to him. 

"And what have I done?" He replied, locking his tantalizing gaze with hers. "I just claimed what was mine, don't you think?"

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and my amazing co-writer @iron-flavored-lipgloss and turn on notifications to know when we update!

[supernaturalscribe67]

Unwarranted

Words: 4,983

POV: 3rd Person

Pairing: Team Free Will x Male!ExAngel!Reader [Platonic]

Warning(s): Mention of past sexual harassment, sexual harassment, angst, hurt/comfort

Summary: Humans are interesting and complex creatures, and ever since the reader lost his grace, he had to learn to become one. Luckily, he had his friends by his side to help him through his trials and tribulations. What happens when he's face-to-face with a human experience he never anticipated, and how will Team Free Will help him resolve his issue?

Request:

Hi! I hope you're having a good day/night. This request is very specific. I would write it myself, but im awful at it. I hope you don't mind, lol.

May you do (ex?)Angel!Male!reader x TFW (platonic obv). You can make it where Reader joined after the angels fell and was castiels past battle partner and was good friends with him, or something else if you'd like.

Reader lost his grace after a rogue angel took it from him. He has no idea how to be human and struggles a lot, even with the help of Dean, Sam, and Castiel. Anyways, to get to the point- Reader picked a pretty attractive vessel, so both men and women hit on him a lot when the group goes to diners or bars and most of the time Reader wanders off to explore since hes never really gone to earth before so the boys never notice, and he doesn't know how to react or what to do when they start to get touchy, only that he doesn't feel comfortable with it at all, but he thinks if he tells them to stop its a form of being rude, so he never says so. the person usually stops when they realize Reader isn't having the type of reaction they were looking for.

When Reader mentioned this to the boys randomly, they realized that Reader didn't know that it was bad that they were touching him and explained what it was, what to say, and do when that happens and comforts him when he finally cries as a human.

Anonymous

A/N: I am so sorry for going off the grid for a while! Honestly, keeping track of dates and time frames has not been my strong point, especially with everything going on with work. Luckily I'm almost done with another request as well and will have that up by this weekend! I hope this gives the request justice. As always, feedback is very much appreciated!

~ Much Love!

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Humans are interesting and complex creatures, each with their own thoughts, wants, needs, and interests. When (Y/N) first joined Castiel on Earth two years prior, he was amazed by the array of personalities and emotions. No two people are alike, but, due to the vast differences, many of them can be categorized under three distinct titles; good, neutral, and evil.

The good people are the ones who are selfless. They take the first step when it comes to helping others. They aren’t perfect but they are as close as anyone can be. Only a small amount of people fit into the category of ‘good’, most of which find themselves canonized into sainthood years after death. Many strive to be classified under such a prestige title, but few make the cut. However, just because someone isn’t worthy of the title, doesn’t make them a bad person automatically. 

Neutral individuals are what most would describe as your ‘average Joe’. It is the category in which most people lie. They are neither good nor bad. The choices they make in life come with a mix of positive and negative intentions. An example of a neutral person could be someone’s English teacher, who partakes in volunteer work after hours, or your boss, who had just been caught cheating on his wife with Jim from the mailroom. Just because people do bad things, doesn’t make them inherently evil. 

True evil is much darker. An individual who would put a demon to shame with their actions, thoughts, and desires. One with little regard for the well-being of others. Ones that hurt others purely for self-gratification. To gain an advantage. Those are the ones that end up in prison or a seat in Congress. They’re usually manipulative, have a silver tongue placed in their mouth at birth, and can easily coerce those who are weak and gullible. 

(Y/N) had met his fair share of individuals from all three categories throughout his time on Earth, supernatural entities excluded. At first, with his angelic powers, he was able to make an assumption of others based solely on their thoughts. Ever since the fall, however, his judgments on people had become rather askew. He was able to get the full experience of being human - not able to truly tell what one was thinking during various interactions - and he would be lying if he said he enjoyed it. Rather, the lack of understanding when it came to others caused him to develop a sense of paranoia. The last thing he wanted was for others to assume the worst of him. Even as an angel, he would treat the worst of the worst with as much kindness as he could muster.

Little did he know that the paranoia would lead to his downfall and a deep realization of how evil some people could be.

The first couple of weeks after his grace was stolen, (Y/N) was lost. He knew next to nothing about maintaining the necessary needs to keep his body alive. It was all tedious in his eyes. Why did humans need to eat, drink, and go to the bathroom so much throughout the day? Who possibly had the time to do so? Do they have to thread their needs into their schedules for work and school? On top of that, why did humans need to pay for food and water? Were they not necessities? Why would someone need to pay to survive? (Y/N) held a plethora of questions in his mind that still go unanswered. 

Thankfully, Castiel, Sam, and Dean were all there for him, guiding him through the processes necessary to provide for his new form. It took a while for him to get the hang of it - the most overwhelming thing was when he was introduced to a large variety of foods. All the new flavors and textures send his tongue into sensory overdrive. Dean was more than happy to realize, though, that the two of them were rather fond of the same flavor of pie. 

With the loss of his grace came the depletion of his strength. He was no longer invincible to man-made weaponry. Because of this, and since Sam and Dean’s jobs were so physically demanding, they spent weeks in training. Blades, firearms, and hand-to-hand all had their challenges, but (Y/N) was a quick learner, something the brothers respected him highly for. Within a month and a half, he was on the road with them, hopping from case to case. 

Saving people, hunting things, the family business. 

And true it was. The time he had spent with Castiel and the Winchesters was extensive, and there was never a dull moment. Away from the darkness and the monsters that crept in the night, Sam and Dean were playful jokesters. Childish, yet mature when they needed to be. It was noticeable that Castiel had also developed certain aspects of their personalities, as he was more lighthearted than when (Y/N) first met him. As time passed, (Y/N), too, started to display those characteristics. He felt like a member of the team. A real Winchester. For the first time since the fall, he felt at home. 

*~*

(Y/N) had been to a handful of bars since he turned human, before becoming an honorary member of the Winchester family, and there was one fact he could confidently state; he didn’t like them. 

Sure, he met some rather nice people while at said bars, mainly the middle-aged female bartenders who gave off a motherly aura, but with every kind individual he saw, he encountered twice as many assholes. Those were the ones that drunkenly called him slurs even though they knew nothing about him, the ones that shoved him out of the way when they wanted to get to the bar, or the ones that continuously pushed their limits on his personal boundaries.

Unfortunately, he had experienced the latter more than he would have liked.

He couldn’t quite describe how he felt when he had those interactions. When a bar patron would press themselves against his back or chest, touch his ass or thighs, or even leave kisses on his neck, shoulders, cheeks, and lips. It was decided, though, that he was extremely uncomfortable. Why would he possibly feel that way? He assumed that touches and kisses were how humans expressed affection towards one another. So, why didn’t he like it? He chalked it up to not being used to that form of affection or affection in general. Surely, he was bound to get comfortable with it eventually. 

After-hunt celebrations were common with the Winchesters. Either the day of or the night after, they would all gather at the nearest watering hole, grab a drink or two, and then head back to the motel. Sometimes, Sam or Dean would abandon the group to retreat with a romantic partner, but (Y/N) would always stick with Castiel and the remaining brother. He never had any interest in human relations. It was a new, complex situation outside of learning to be human. He was just getting used to that concept, and he had no desire to learn about other aspects of humanity yet. 

Classy Cline’s sat on the edge of a small town in Washington state. While its name suggested an upscale establishment, the place was, in all actuality, a shit hole. The booths and barstools were ripped at every corner of the seam, the tables were chipped and scuffed, and it appeared as if the employees hadn’t swept or mopped the floor in well over a decade. They had all been to nasty bars in the past, but Classy Cline’s took the cake.

“I don’t even wanna drink from this glass,” Sam mumbled as he eyed the pint glass Dean had placed in front of him. 

While aesthetics weren’t on Cline’s side, the beer looked more than appetizing. An amber/gold liquid, topped with a beautiful, white head. Any beer enthusiast would foam at the mouth at the sight. The glasses, contrary to the floors, looked spotless. If they had put as much effort into cleaning the building as they did disinfecting the glassware, lines would be out the door, and Cline would be a millionaire.

“Oh, don’t be a baby, Sammy,” Dean rolled his eyes and gave a beer to (Y/N) and Castiel. “It may not live up to its name, but the beer sure looks good.”

“Thank you, Dean,” (Y/N) and Castiel spoke in unison.

“I’ll never get used to that,” Dean shook his head and sat down next to his brother. “It’s as if you two are constantly in sync.”

(Y/N) furrowed his brows as he cupped the glass with one hand, condensation coating his palm. “We’re an American boy band from the 90’s?” He cocked his head to the side.

Dean froze, the glass inches from his lips as he shot him a questioning glance. “While I’m proud of you for remembering what I taught you about music, that’s not what I meant. ‘In sync’. Two separate words.”

“Oh…”

“(Y/N) and I have worked together for well over a century. We’re bound to have some similarities.” Castiel explained.

Dean shrugged. “I guess you’re right,” he took a sip of his beer.

(Y/N) noted Sam’s hesitancy to drink, so he took a moment to examine the liquid himself. It looked clean, safe, and better than many other beers he had drank before. He took a swig and was pleasantly surprised to find that it was still very cold. A layer of foam coated his upper lip. Sam picked up his glass and examined the bottom.

“Will you stop that?” Dean scolded. “The beer is fine, Sam, you’re not going to die. You look like an idiot.”

“Well, excuse me for being skeptical, Dean! Have you seen the state of this place? I believe I have a right to be concerned.” Sam hissed.

“The beer is very pleasant, Sam,” (Y/N) smiled as he took another long swig, downing half the pint. 

Sam slowly nodded. “I can tell,” he mumbled and glanced down at his glass. He hesitated for a moment before he took a careful sip, letting the liquid rest against his tastebuds before he swallowed. He hummed and raised his brows. “Wow, that’s pretty good.”

“See? Your big brother knows a thing or two about beer,” Dean smiled.

A bartender waltzed into view - an overworked twenty-something with her dirty blonde hair tossed back into a bun that she should have fixed hours ago. She sat a rocks glass in front of (Y/N), the ice emanating a clink inside as it shifted. He stared and intensely studied the dark liquid.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I didn’t order this,” he looked up at her.

The bartender sighed and gestured towards the bar. “The man over there sent it,” she grumbled, her voice unenthusiastic and laced with exhaustion. She didn’t give him any time to further investigate before she swiveled through the booths and tables, vanishing into the crowd of regulars. 

The group looked at the drink with curiosity before their attention shifted to the bar. Only one of the patrons had their gaze glued to the hunters. He looked to be in his mid-forties, with short, salt-and-pepper hair decorating the top of his head and a beard to match. Age lines crinkled the corners of his mouth and eyes. A leather jacket covered his broad shoulders and the jeans he wore left little to the imagination. When (Y/N)’s eyes connected with the stranger’s, the man smirked and winked. (Y/N) continued to stare at him, lips slightly parted, until he felt an elbow in his side. His gaze shot over to the eldest Winchester.

“Give him a smile and a wave. That shows him you appreciate it.” Dean said through a smile.

“Oh,” (Y/N) raised his brows and looked back at the man, whose eyes were still on him. He gave a small smile, followed by a timid wave.

The stranger grinned before he turned his head away. (Y/N) looked down and studied the glass once more. The liquid was a slightly darker shade than the beer, but more transparent. When he picked it up, the liquid sloshed inside. The smell was strong but slightly sweet. Whiskey. A sip of it caused him to cringe. It was Fireball. Not the best choice to send a stranger across the bar, but to each their own. 

Dean leaned in close to him, his cheeky grin still prominent. “You should go over and talk to him.”

“Why?”

“He just gave you a drink. He wants to talk to you.”

(Y/N) gave Dean a confused stare. “How does that-”

“It doesn’t matter.” Dean waved him off. “He’s flirting with you by sending over the drink! You should go flirt back.”

(Y/N) looked from the drink to Dean, from Dean to the stranger. He was a very attractive man, but (Y/N) was far from interested in flirtation. However, if Dean thought he should, what could go wrong? He trusted Dean’s advice.

Hesitantly, (Y/N) stood, the glass of Fireball in hand, and made his way over to the bar where the gentleman sat. He took the empty barstool next to him. The man looked at him out of the corner of his eye and smirked.

“Good to see you up close,” he said and turned his body to face (Y/N). “You’re even cuter than I thought. Chris,” he held out his hand.

This is a handshake. This is how strangers greet each other.

(Y/n) grasped Chris’ hand and shook it gently. He noticed how firm his grip was. “My name is (Y/N),” he said.

Chris smirked. “A beautiful name for a beautiful man,” he pulled his hand away and casually placed it on (Y/N)’s knee. “I’ve been coming here for, close to, fifteen years, and I have never seen anyone as good-looking as yourself. You new around here?”

(Y/N)’s eyes shifted to Chris’ hand before they returned to his face. “My friends and I are on a trip.” He replied. It’s a classic lie most hunters use and one that was taught to him early on in his training.

“Ah, and how long will you be staying?”

“I believe this is the last night we’re here.”

“You’re not sure?”

���My friend, Dean, drives us. He knows more about our itinerary than I do.”

“A ‘go with the flow’ kind of man. I like it.”

As they continued to talk, Chris’ hand ventured further up (Y/N)’s thigh, squeezing the flesh on his leg from time to time. Simple conversation switched to flirting rather quickly, the majority of it one-sided. What started as cheesy ‘first date’ type questions turned risque in the blink of an eye. At first, they were easy questions that (Y/N) could answer without an issue, but once they started to get dirty, his mind turned blank. Half the vocabulary Chris used was new to him. While he knew all of them revolved around sex, he couldn’t quite pinpoint the definition, regardless of the context clues provided. 

He could feel the familiar pit in his stomach as the questions droned on. The sensation that he couldn’t quite give a title to yet. At least, not an accurate one. ‘Uncomfortable’ seemed as if it fit too loosely for the circumstance. It felt as if there were a swarm of bees buzzing around in his stomach, moving from his gut to his chest periodically.

Chris leaned in close to (Y/N)’s ear, his warm, whiskey-filled breath caressing his cheek. (Y/N)’s eyes were cast down. He had lost the ability to maintain constant eye contact when the mood shifted, and the bees began their attack.

“What do you say we get out of here?” Chris asked. “I could show you a thing or two.”

When Chris’s hand landed on (Y/N)’s crotch, every muscle in his body was on fire as they clenched tightly. (Y/N)’s eyes went wide and his body froze. The bees didn’t just fly, they infiltrated his entire nervous system. He felt an overwhelming need to retreat like one would in a battle they knew they couldn’t win. But he wasn’t in a battle. It was a simple conversation. Why did he feel like that?

Chris pressed small kisses on the back of (Y/N)’s ear. (Y/N) inhaled and turned his head slightly, the need to get away from Chris strong. Chris immediately stopped and opened his eyes. He paused for a moment before he pulled away and sighed.

“I see you’re not as interested as I thought you were,” he gave a tight smile, pulled out his wallet, and slammed a twenty on the bar. “Thanks for nothing.” He grumbled before he got up and stormed away.

With his presence gone, (Y/N) felt a sense of peace and ease wash over him. The beating of his heart inside his chest began to lessen and return to a normal pace. With a glance down at his hand, he noticed the way his fingertips trembled. That hadn’t been the first time someone else had gotten so bold with touching him, and he was certain it wouldn’t be the last. When was that feeling going to go away?

After a minute or so passed, he was able to compose himself enough to stand from the barstool and wander back to the table where Sam, Dean, and Castiel sat. He joined them without a word, not wanting to interrupt their conversation, and grabbed his lukewarm beer. There was no chance he was going to drink anymore that night. Not with his stomach as uneasy as it was.

“Hey, you okay?” Sam asked.

“I’m fine,” (Y/N) spoke.

“You sure?” Dean chimed in. “Guy looked like he had a stick up his ass when he left.

(Y/N) shrugged. “I believe he just wanted to leave.” He tried to keep his voice as straight as possible. He could tell his nerves hadn’t fully recovered.

Dean shook his head. “Well, his loss.”

*~*

One thing (Y/N) adored about being human was the way showers made him feel after a hunt. He never quite realized how tense his muscles could get until the hot water caressed his limbs. It was as if all the adrenaline was washed from his body. It made him feel refreshed. Renewed.

That night, he got the last shower. The water wasn’t as hot as other showers he had taken, but he would accept warm any day. By the time he left the bathroom, clad in a pair of night pants and a loose t-shirt courtesy of the youngest Winchester, Sam, Dean, and Castiel were dressed to leave. Another post-hunt celebration. Dean glanced at (Y/N).

“You’re not coming?” He asked. 

(Y/N) shook his head and walked over to his bed. “Not tonight, no.”

“Why not? You never miss out on a bar.”

(Y/N) settled into the bed, and sat up with his legs crossed. “I notice that humans get very physical when they are at bars. I’m not quite used to it yet, so I think I’m going to wait until I’m ready.”

“Ready for what, (Y/N)?” Castiel asked.

“The touching.”

The three of them shared a concerned look before Sam waved his hand dramatically, eyes closed tightly. 

“Wait,” he reached a hand up and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What do you mean ‘get used to’?”

“Well, I’m not accustomed to the way humans express attraction. I surely wasn’t aware that there was as much physical contact involved. So, I figured it was something I would be more comfortable with as time went on. I mean, I never knew strangers were so interested in touching each other’s genitalia.”

They all furrowed their brows, confusion etched perfectly on their faces, and slowly made their way over to the bed. Sam sat at the edge next to (Y/N), Dean stood next to him, and Castiel sat on the opposite side of the bed from Sam.

“(Y/N),” Sam started, his voice soft and steady, the same voice he used when talking to the families of victims. “Have you…given these people permission to touch you?”

(Y/N) cocked his head to the side, slightly taken aback by the question, as it was something he had never even considered before. Had he permitted them to touch him? He could not recall. Then again, he didn’t remember them asking. He took a moment to think back on the times he had been in bars since he became human.

“No,” he answered. “The first couple of times it happened, I pulled away from the touch, as it made me rather uncomfortable, but they would just get upset. One man told me it was wrong to ‘lead him on’ and then deny his touch. After that, I let people touch me. I would like a break from it for tonight.”

“(Y/N), other humans need permission to touch you,” Castiel said.

“But they get upset-”

“To Hell with them being upset,” Dean interjected. “No one has a right to touch you, especially if you don’t want them to.”

“Is that why that one guy left the last bar we went to left? You wouldn’t let him touch you?” Sam asked.

(Y/N) could feel his cheeks and neck heat up. He suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to hide his face. Was it because of the answer to the question? Was it because of the question itself? He couldn’t quite pinpoint the origin of the sense of dread, but he knew it wasn’t going to vanish anytime soon.

He shook his head, eyes cast down to his hands. “I let him touch me. I assume it was because I didn’t respond when he asked me to leave with him.”

Dean’s jaw clenched as he ran a hand down his face. “Son of a bitch,” he growled and began to lightly pace between the motel beds.

Sam slowly shook his head. “(Y/N), those people are horrible. You should never touch someone without consent, and you should never let anyone touch you if you are uncomfortable with it. Do you understand?” His eyes were laced with sympathy.

(Y/N) went to say something, but he felt a lump in his throat prevent him from doing so. Instead, he just gave a short, brief nod.

“I can only imagine how tough it was to become human. To lose all that power. You may not have the power to heal us anymore or read others’ minds, but you are still your own person, (Y/N). You have the power to tell people to keep their hands off of you. You have the power to let yourself have a good time at these places. It doesn’t matter what other people think about your choices. In the end, all that matters is you, okay?”

“Okay,” he replied, his voice shaky and barely above a whisper. 

(Y/N) sniffled, and he felt as if his head was pulsing. Tears sprung to the corner of his eyes and cascaded down his cheeks. For the first time since he lost his grace, he cried. It wasn’t loud and dramatic, but, rather, soft.

It explained so much. How he hated the way bar patrons touched him, the sinking feeling when they got too close, the panic that coursed through his veins. That was no flaw on his part, but a flaw on the strangers. What they did was wrong, not him.

And that validation broke him.

(Y/N) immediately knew he hated crying. His chest ached as the silent sobs racked his body. In a way, it was relieving, though. It felt as if all of the pent-up discomfort was being released. As if he was reborn. Still, it hurt worse than it did comfort him.

Castiel was the first to respond as he placed a gentle hand against (Y/N)’s back, Sam, being the closest, engulfed him in a near bone-shattering embrace, and Dean halted his paces to kneel beside the bed, one of his hands landing on the small of his back. (Y/N) closed his eyes tight and leaned his head against Sam’s chest. Their touch made him feel safe. This was a good touch. This was how touch should make him feel. He shouldn’t be forced to feel uncomfortable to please others, because, in reality, some people aren’t going to like him, even if the reasons are far from valid. It was a harsh reality, but as long as he had his family by his side, he didn’t mind if the whole world hated him.

After a few quiet minutes, filled with silent cries, the tears stopped. (Y/N)’s eyes were bright red and puffy, and he occasionally sniffled.

“Hey,” Dean said, his voice soothing.

(Y/N) lifted his head from Sam’s chest and glanced over at him. Sam pulled back a bit so the embrace wasn’t nearly as intense.

“If you’re ever in a situation like that, where some douchebag won’t keep his hands off of you, all you have to do is say the word and we’ll kick his ass for you.”

“What if it’s a woman?” He asked quietly.

Dean opened his mouth to give a quick answer but shut it as he thought about it. “Then we will have Cas bring Jody or Charlie in to kick her ass. The point is; fuck everyone else.”

(Y/N) furrowed his brows. “Does that not mean to have intercourse with them?”

Dean sighed. “Sam, Cas, a little help?”

“What Dean is trying to say,” Castiel chimed in. “Is that you should not prioritize other peoples’ desires over your comfort. You are more important than a stranger. They are not important, you are, and what other people think doesn’t matter. If someone does not listen to you when you deny them, we will do everything in our power to protect you. We still care about you, and want what’s best for you.”

Dean pressed his lips together and nodded. “Couldn’t have said it better myself. That’s exactly what I meant.”

Sam rolled his eyes, but couldn’t hold back his smirk. “Look, we know how tough it is to be human. Dean and I have been dealing with this our whole lives. We know that there are setbacks that come with the package, but there are also a ton of fun experiences. We don’t want some jackass to ruin it for you. Cas said it better than Dean or I could. We care about you and want to do everything we can to look out for you. You deserve it.”

The tears reappeared, but they weren’t tears of sadness. They were tears of joy. Of relief. As if his heart would burst with all the love and care his friends will it with. (Y/N) took a moment to wrap his arms around each of them in an individual hug to show his appreciation. 

“Thank you. I am very grateful to have friends like you.” He smiled warmly.

Dean smiled before he cleared his throat and waved him off. “Alright, enough of the chick-flick crap,” he said as he stood from his spot on the floor, a groan escaping his throat that he tried not to make too noticeable. “What do you say we skip the bar tonight, order some takeout, and watch a movie? I hear Roadhouse is on at seven.”

(Y/N) cocked his head to the side. “What’s Roadhouse?”

Dean froze, wide-eyed. His jaw dropped in shock. “‘What’s Roadhouse’?” He repeated in disbelief. “Action movie? Patrick Swayze? Sam Elliott? Kelly Lumch? Julie Michaels? Keith David!?” With each name, his voice got louder.

“Are those actors?”

“I-” Dean threw his hands up as he turned his back on him and began to pace around the room once more.

(Y/N) flashed a worried look at Castiel, then Sam. Sam shook his head and chuckled. 

“Dean’s just being dramatic,” he whispered, which caused (Y/N) to let out a sigh of relief.

“I am not being dramatic!” Dean retorted before he stopped, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. “This is all my fault. I was so focused on teaching him about good music that movies never crossed my mind. Have you at least seen Indiana Jones?”

“Indiana…as in the state?”

“If it makes you feel any better, (Y/N), I, too, have yet to see Roadhouse or Indiana Jones,” Castiel said.

Dean deadpanned. “I have some work to do. Sam, go get us some food. I need to make a list of movies for them to watch.”

Sam snorted as he stood from his spot on the bed. “Yeah, yeah. Just text me what you guys want.” He mumbled and retrieved his jacket from the back of one of the chairs.

As Sam left to get them food, Dean began to ramble on about movies he determined (Y/N) and Castiel had to watch, most of which were either action or old westerns. He talked with such passion regarding the films that (Y/N) couldn’t help but smile. Dean was right, the opinions of others didn’t matter, especially those whose only goal was to satisfy their selfish desires, disregarding others’ wellbeing. They were foolish, scum, true lions in sheep’s clothing. Those hidden evil beings could make themselves look innocent. (Y/N) didn’t need to please them. Didn’t need to make them happy. He only wanted to make his family happy, just as they did him. For how much they’ve helped him on his treacherous journey into manhood, they deserve it, for they have taught him the most valuable lesson of all;

His worth was priceless.

…

“Hey, are you even listening?”

[spicybylerpolls]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Okay, I guess.

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

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

[fatal-blow]

what are some ways hypermobility can effect your body that no-one really talks about?

it's interesting actually because i don't think hypermobility is inherently disabling. we've all heard about those freaks (affectionate) who are active and healthy, but just happen to be able to contort their bodies into unbelievable shapes. so much of hypermobility seems to be the way it interacts with other factors. I'll go over some stuff that i know is directly related to hypermobility though!

hypermobility has little to do with joints, and everything to do with everything else. see, muscles are connected to bone by tendons. hypermobility increases the stretch of the tendons. this is like making the ropes attaching your hammock to the trees really stretchy. so when the actual muscle flexes, it first must pull the tendons tight before it can start moving the bone that it's attached to. ergo, hypermobility makes the muscles work harder to achieve the same results as non-hypermobile bodies.

for a lot of people who have hypermobility and don't realize it, and now have chronic pain, this is often due to the overuse of muscles. you are not weak, you are not frail, you are just very, very tired. please look at my pinned post--learning how to treat trigger points has allowed me to treat my pain!! it's reversible!! you CAN get better!!

relatedly, this is why building muscle can help combat the negative effects of hypermobility. but you can't build your muscles until they've been treated for overuse. this is where i think a lot of physiotherapy falters.

seems to be related to estrogen! because estrogen is involved with collagen synthesis, and collagen is the thing in the tendons that makes things stretchier. I've yet to read more into this in detail, but considering hypermobility seems to affect those with higher levels of estrogen in the body, I'm not surprised.

similarly, pregnancy causes the tendons and ligaments to loosen, presumably due to the aforementioned effects of estrogen. whether or not things go back to normal after pregnancy, I don't know.

hypermobility can also affect the veins and nerves, making THEM stretchy as well. I'm more knowledgeable about the muscular impacts, but I've seen suggestions that varicose veins are more likely, causing the veins to stretch around blockages rather than. be blocked by them.

in a fit of irony, i, personally, think that hypermobility actually saves the body from the effects of stress--or more specifically, body wide muscular tension. because when your muscles get tight enough, they pull on the bones and start pinning nerves and crushing veins--literally crushing you to death. having a wibbly, squishy body could totally counter that. could even be why women tend to live longer than men! this bullet point is pure speculation on my part though, so take that with a grain a salt (or however much you want to trust my hypotheses gjfj)

the way hypermobility presents in people can make it difficult to diagnose. for instance, people who aren't super stretchy could be hypermobile, except their muscles have stiffened up so much that they seem like they have normal range of motion. my mother, queen of eds, is like this! that's why it's important to look across a broad range of diagnostic criteria, and consider your history and the current state of your body.

I DONT...actually think stretching makes hypermobility worse. but i do think stretches need to be targeting the right spots to be effective. unfortunately this requires knowing things both about the human body and your own body. it's a lot of work.

oh also hypermobility can make your body feel less stable and more unbalanced. and when you feel unbalanced you start clenching muscles so you don't fall over. and then those muscles get overused and tired, so you clench other muscles to keep THOSE muscles from failing. it's a nasty little feedback loop that can be difficult to break, and if allowed to continue, it can really fuck your shit up.

but i really do want to stress that so many of the problems related to hypermobility are not only treatable but reversible. muscle overuse is a HUGE problem with hypermobility, but after reading the book in my pinned post (and realizing that every pain pattern in there matched MY pain patterns) I've been able to work on recovery.

like i had symptoms of carpel tunnel, of tendonitis, bursitis, even some symptoms of diabetes and pancreatitis, (and more but if i keep listing them we'll be here all day) and the muscle treatment in that workbook has steadily reduced and eliminated those symptoms. my mother was practically bed bound by her disability and now she can go on short walks and feels better than she has in a very long time. it's reversible. you don't have to be in pain forever. we can all get better (it'll just take a while, I've been doing this for a year and a half and I'm still working at it, but what matters is that I'm better)

[sevensoulmates]

7x05 Buddie Meta YDKM Part 3 (of 4)

Part 1. Part 2. Part 4.

Eddie. I cannot stress this enough. If this was a partner that you actually had a good relationship with, you could go home and talk to them, tell them your feelings. Hell, you should feel safe enough just to say, "hey, I don't feel like having sex right now" and your partner should be able to accept it.

Why does the idea of saying no to sex terrify Eddie? There is a stigma that men are always supposed to want sex, and when they don't, that automatically means something's wrong, either with the man or with their partner. A lot of women might think they're the problem. One could argue maybe he doesn't want Marisol to feel bad, but if that was the case, then he would be doing his damndest to reassure her that he just needs a minute with the nun thing and not to take it personally. Instead, he avoids her, doesn't respond to her messages, and now--looks very panicked at the idea of her possibly trying to initiate sex with him. Which is kind of hilarious because what makes you think she even wants to have sex with you right now after you've been avoiding her all day?

This is another interesting line because it suggests that Eddie finds sex to be a chore. An obligation. Something he must provide his partner in order to keep them satisfied, and something that he's always done just to please his partner. I'm not saying he gets no pleasure from sex with women, but it doesn't feel to me like sex is really something Eddie really likes all that much just for himself if it's something "he'll get through somehow." I understand that this is a joke on Buck's end, but it's still written into the show on purpose, and sometimes jokes are just ways to cover up speaking the truth.

I want to talk some more now about Perception, specifically how both Buck and Eddie felt perceived this episode in ways that made them uncomfortable. For Buck, he was experiencing for the first time what it feels like for the world at large to perceive him as a queer man. Seeing eyes everywhere when no one was really watching. And for Eddie, it's the same, except instead of society perceiving him it's God. Both society and "God" are both entities that are known to be judgemental overall. But my question is, why does Eddie feel judged for sleeping with a woman who never even made the final steps to become a nun?

Buck is right, if God is an omniscient presence he would've always been watching, so why now does the idea of an All Powerful Being perceiving Eddie having relations with a woman terrify him so much? Is he afraid of "someone" knowing what actually runs through his head when he's being intimate with a woman? Is he ashamed that he's not actually as into it as he appears to be? Maybe now that the catholic guilt has been brought back up in Eddie consciousness, the thoughts are spilling through, and he's not able to stop them this time, and he's scared that someone, God, or society, or whoever, will see that he's not actually as into women as he wants people to believe. All of this is something I don't think he's realized. It's just as much unconscious to him as Buck's bisexuality was to him last episode. But something is bound to happen that finally clarifies it for Eddie.

He comes to the conclusion that he has to break up with her. But when confronted, he says he doesn't actually want to break up with her. Why? Because she just moved in. Not because he "really likes her" or because "he wants to build a life with her" or because "he wants her there" or because "he wants a relationship with her", it's because it's inconvenient because she just moved in and it makes him look bad (honey, far too late). He doesn't actually want to be with Marisol, he just likes the idea of cohabitating because it gives the illusion of a family without actually having to put any effort into building and strengthening it. This is exactly like how in the scene previous, he admits to Bobby that he liked being married, not necessarily that he loved Shannon. He just loved being married to her. This is the exact same thing.

This showcases Eddie's fundamental misunderstanding of both Tommy AND Buck. He has his blinders on the entire episode, and he walks a fine line between just misunderstanding or being willfully ignorant. The same way he doesn't see Buck and Tommy's queerness is in my opinion, the same way he doesn't see his own queerness.

Eddie's facial expressions here--Gosh, hats OFF to Ryan!! He really looked like he was shaken to the core. Especially his face in the last still. You can tell he did not see it coming at all. Because for "manly men" like Eddie, Buck, and Tommy, he's probably never even thought of it being a possibility for people like them.

This is especially evident when his first thought is not of Buck being queer, but of Tommy. And I don't think this is because he's surprised more about Tommy, or is not putting enough emphasis on Buck. I think it's more so that Eddie is aware that Tommy and he have A LOT in common, so much so that Eddie probably heavily identified with Tommy, and to have this part of Tommy be something so "different" from what Eddie expected is more shocking to him in the moment. Because if a man like Tommy (Eddie's narrative mirror) is queer, then what does that say about Eddie? I think that's why his first thought is about Tommy.

It might also be because it's easier for Eddie to process Tommy's queerness in the moment than it is for him to process Buck's queerness. In the same way that Buck was so unsure of why he was so hesitant to tell Eddie, Eddie might be struggling to comprehend Buck's queerness and what that means for them and their relationship without appearing to be unsupportive.

Additionally, it's interesting that Tommy's queerness never came up in conversation since it seemed like Tommy and Eddie got pretty close and "clicked" in a very short period of time. Is it possible Tommy is supposed to contrast Buck here? Buck says "Tommy just doesn't offer that information up". Maybe Tommy is also aware of how supposed "straight" men react when they learn that someone like him is into men. It provides an interesting contrast to Buck, who was so anxious about telling Eddie because he worried about how it would affect their relationship in particular, whereas Tommy just opted not to tell him at all just because he doesn't tell people unless they ask.

Buck asks if this is weird for Eddie, but Buck is aware that Eddie is not a homophobic person, and therefore wouldn't need to be worried (like Tommy could've been since he's only just met them both three weeks ago). Buck's known Eddie for six years, he knows Eddie knows plenty of queer people and has never had an adverse reaction to them. But this is personal because Buck knows that he's one of, if not the closest adult in Eddie's life. If Eddie is uncomfortable with Buck, it ruins their entire...everything. This says to me that Buck knew that by telling Eddie about this something would change, but he just doesn't know what.

I told myself if Eddie said any statements in this episode along this line, anything that felt like it was in the same vein as "no homo" that it would signal to me immediately that they were going to go there with Eddie's sexuality storyline, and this counts for me.

Eddie, it should be a given that you don't like Tommy in the same Buck does. No one in the room is accusing Eddie of being queer, and yet he says this all on his own for no reason other than to purposefully distance himself from queerness. All of which point to internalized homophobia. A person who was secure in their straight sexuality would not feel the need to clarify that they are straight (making it a bit about yourself there, huh, Eddie?) immediately after a close loved one just came out to you.

This is not a scenario where someone's coming on to Eddie and he has to say "no, sorry I'm not into men." This isn't someone asking him point blank, "are you gay?" and he says no. Nowhere in this conversation was there anything that Buck said that could've made Eddie feel like he was also being accused of queerness and yet Eddie feels the need to make it known that is in fact, not gay.

Eddie, a confident straight man, should understand that this convo is about Buck's queerness, not whether or not Eddie is being perceived as queer. This coming right after he looked so shocked about Tommy, when the last two episodes spent a lot of time painstakingly telling us that HEY! HEY! EDDIE AND TOMMY ARE SUPER ALIKE!

Eddie. My guy. Your queer realization arc is coming and of that I am certain.

This line read to me in the same way as the line in 7x01: "but with only one [gender] is there underlying sexual tension". This line, spoken by Buck, was disproven in episode 4. This line here from Eddie is put there to eventually be challenged. This line has two meanings, which is that of course the foundation of their friendship will not change because of Buck's queerness, but it does signal to the audience that some part of their relationship will change. What could that be? The only thing that makes sense at this point in the story is for the romantic aspect of their storyline to finally be explored. I think this is foreshadowing that story that's likely going to come at some point down the line. I don't know if it'll be this season, but it's going to come, of that I'm sure now.

Bucktommy as a direct parallel to Eddiemarisol is so interesting because whereas with Buck you can tell that he genuinely has interest in Tommy, it's heavily juxtaposed by how uninterested in Marisol Eddie has acted pretty much since the second they got together in season 6. Even Eddie's face here looks like he's thinking "wish I knew what that felt like". Don't get me wrong, I do think that Eddie wants a real connection, but I think he thinks that if he just stays with a woman for long enough one will just develop through proximity alone. But that's not how relationships work. It didn't work with Shannon and their relationship continued to be dysfunctional until the day she died. It didn't work with Ana, but that time, his physical reactions were enough to get him to break up with her. With Marisol, I think Eddie's at his patience end. He doesn't want to give up and be alone again. Or worse, have to start trying all over again. He doesn't want to fail again, because failing this time not only means failing himself but failing Christopher as well.

We just saw in 7x01 that Christopher believed that it wouldn't matter what he did, people (girlfriends in this case) would always leave. Christopher learned this from Eddie. Eddie deciding to stick it out with Marisol is both him desperately trying to grasp onto the possibility of a connection, but also a way to prove to himself and to Christopher that not all relationships have to end.

But in this case, Eddie's advice makes sense for Buck, because he's literally in the early stages of this relationship with Tommy, he's still trying to get to know Tommy, and he's trying to adjust to queerness for the first time in his life. For Eddie, this is at minimum a 4-6 month old relationship, one that he's just randomly decided to take "to the next level" and he did all of this without bothering to get to know Marisol AT ALL. That ENTIRE time. While it's true that Buck hasn't yet had a chance to figure it out what it is with Tommy, Eddie has had many chances before but has chosen not to take them. And I think when faced with the reality that he would giving up on yet another relationship, the prospect of failing yet again, he decides to go against what his gut is telling him and stays with Marisol.

I love that Eddie realized before he left that Buck needed physical assurance and gave it to him. This is their first hug in many seasons and it's a beautiful one. Eddie puts his thumb on Buck's pulse yet again, and I'm sure that was a very reassuring thing to feel, to know that Eddie still cares that deeply for him. He even puts his finger up and tells Buck to call Tommy, showing his support for Buck's relationship with Tommy, which was never a question that he would do. Because it's no question that Eddie loves Buck to the core, and he will always want Buck to be happy. He just hasn't figured out that his own happiness is possible specifically with Buck.

This entire scene also was physically blocked very similar to the scene in the episode right before, the scene that ended with Tommy kissing Buck. The only difference here was the topic of conversation and the fact that it ended in a hug and not a kiss. Buck lets out a sigh of relief as Eddie leaves, exactly the same way he let out a sign of relief after realizing his attraction to men.

Marisol's possessions in this episode have been a metaphor for who she is. Eddie's choice to look in the boxes at the beginning of the episode was him finally dipping his toe into learning who she is and he was uncomfortable with what he saw there, not because of Marisol, but because it reminded him that he's not being true to himself in this relationship. And now, he's given another chance here at the end. Marisol's metaphorical box is open, and an invitation for Eddie to take to get to know her more, and instead of wanting to get to know her, he says he "doesn't want to know what's in there". He admits that not only does he not know Marisol, but he doesn't WANT to get to know her.

In the same way, Eddie doesn't know the truth of who he is, he doesn't want to find out the truth. He doesn't want to open the pandora's box inside him and wade through the shit until he finds the tiny little bit of hope. Eddie would rather close the box and leave it closed and keep this relationship with Marisol going rather than try to dig deeper to figure out the real reason why this whole issue happened.

Marisol's reasons for not telling Eddie about the nun thing herself are understandable. She was worried about judgment, rejection, or possible fetishization. It makes sense to me why Eddie, in the end, was able to ask for just a minute to digest it. I think he realized that in the end, the nun thing isn't the whole dealbreaker here, it's something else. Something he's not willing to examine at this time. And since he's realized that the problem isn't Marisol, but him, he can move past the weirdness, and accept Marisol.

Because it's not Marisol he's accepting or rejecting, but the promise of a continued relationship in the future.

Marisol offers him a chance to back out, and you can tell that his first instinct (his "gut" reaction) is to take it. And yet....he adds a "yet". He keeps her on the hook, and he ignores the signs his gut is telling him. In an episode written partially by Taylor Wong who laid all the same "the universe is screaming" and "I do not panic" story threads, Eddie is once again ignoring them and going against his gut despite what he says next.

Eddie tells Marisol that he tends to rush his relationships, and this is true. Despite Eddie being so stubborn and hard to get to know most of the time when it comes to his romantic relationships, he over-commits. I've already talked about how he did the same thing with all of his relationships, including Shannon. He over-commits and under-delivers. I'm glad that they're pointing this out textually in canon because it's true and it's a large part of the issue, even though the root of it is not yet being explored.

However, him saying he "goes with his gut" and lets his head catch up later, is both a true and false statement. When it comes to his romantic relationships Eddie purposely ignores his gut, each and every time. When his gut tells him that he shouldn't bring Shannon back into his life, he ignores it (though this situation is a bit more nuanced). When his gut tells him something's wrong with his relationship with Ana, he says he's going to stick it out anyway. When his gut tells him to end things with Marisol, he doubles down.

The true part of this statement is that he lets his head catch up later. But the thing is that when his body tries to show him later on that something is wrong, whether that be through panic attacks or sexual dysfunction, he continues to ignore it or refuses to dig into it deeper. He still hasn't confronted the truth of his unhealthy relationship with Shannon. He didn't examine why his relationship with Ana didn't work, and he's not questioning himself deeply enough to ask why he's so deeply uncomfortable in his relationship with Marisol.

One thing is for sure, Eddie is an unreliable narrator. He has a hard time understanding his feelings let alone communicating them, and therefore whenever he says statements like these, I think it's worth it to always question it. Does it actually feel like he's telling the truth from a place of understanding, or from a place of what he wishes he could feel?

Go to part four (last part).

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

[bonesandthebees]

Thoughts on Chappel Roan?

she's the lesbian femininomenon the world desperately needed

ok proper thoughts: I'm not usually super into pop music, at least not the super boppy pop that Chappell makes, which is a testament to how good she is at what she does because I actually love a ton of her songs. I think a lot of it is fun and silly and great to dance to (I should know, I recently went to a Chappell Roan dance party at a bar and it was great). I wouldn't say she's a favorite artist of mine or anything because I only really listen to 2-3 of her songs semi regularly, while everything else I have to be in a super specific mood for.

also, I 100% understand that the queer community is excited to have a lesbian artist be so popular. believe me, I'm a lesbian myself so I'm definitely thrilled. but I also feel like there's a lot of weird... gatekeepiness going around? not exactly the right term but like, I mean with the whole "don't bring your cishet boyfriend to the chappell roan concert" discourse I really started getting the vibe that some fans don't realize that straight people can also just... enjoy her music because it's fun.

I personally think it's great to see a woman that sings very explicitly about her attraction to women get such an intense level of mainstream attention (of course, this isn't to discount other popular wlw artists like Janelle Monae, Hayley Kiyoko, etc. who have blown up in the past, I just mean that Chappell has had such an insanely fast rise that I haven't really seen before), and I can really picture her becoming a bit of a cultural icon in pop music with her wild costuming and great performance skills for the next generation like Lady Gaga was when I was growing up.

ok that's probably more than you were looking for but I actually have had a lot of thoughts on Chappell brewing for a bit so there you go lol