#sexuality shifting just as their relationship with gender has

[wowitsverycool]

This whole king situation is like that one time I got a crush on gabriel ultrakill but so much worse

Also Nooooo, I can't make a self insert, it's been a running joke with me that all of my self insert oc's I make to ship with other characters never get with the person whom they desire because that person is too busy, I'd be ruining my streak

But if I were to make a regular oc, not a self insert one it still brings the question of why? The reason my first thoughts were siffrin and euphrasie is both have reason to hold personal grudges against him (siffrin more so than euphrasie maybe but hey we don't know what sort of rage hides behind that affable smile). But siffrin would never want to touch him like that and again I feel weird exposing euphrasie to him, she could handle him but I feel if it was her the situation would become about him very quickly and no! He needs to be diminished!

Like I need someone who hates him but also knows how deeply pathetic he is from personal experience so when they pull at his hair rolling their eyes calling him annoying it comes from somewhere deeply personal

uhhhhhhhhh panicked spongebob filing cabinet brain image. uh uh uhm OH OHO. well. you see. i have this headcanon .

[yunnimilk]

hey :D if you're accepting requests can you do domtop amab reader with subby amab gojo with them secretly dating? Hcs or a small drabble is fine

If you're alright with it, you can do a satosugu version if ot3's aren't against your rules! If you can't dw you can just write gojo :3 (if you do write satosugu then it's the same as the just gojo one!)

tyty for your time

⋆.˚ ★ ᝰ.ᐟ ; 1st p. ; AMAB! SUB! BOT! Saturo Gojo x AMAB! DOM! TOP! GN! Reader + 2nd p. SUB! BOT! AMAB! Satosugu x DOM! TOP! AMAB! GN! Reader VERS.

. 𖥔 ݁ ˖ | kinks \ tags ; orgasm denial, brat taming, spanking \ impact play, sex toys ; both parts !

,. 𖥔 ݁ ˖ | two sets of headcanons ; cw : none, I have two versions for this! Satosugu + you vers. and you + gojo only! I am just assuming that you wanted geto and gojo to be sub . AMAB LANGUAGE , reader has gender neutral prns. there will be a nsfw vers and a sfw vers, I should update my rules for ot3 , and hope you have a great day, anon, you are so sweet xoxo

BEWARE OF NSFW UNDER THE CUT !

Gojo x Reader vers. ;

SFW ;

Dating Gojo was quite the adventure, especially if you're doing it in secret. He pops in your place randomly, awaiting the affection that you give him ,

You two have mini dates in the breakroom, he likes making matching bentos for you both. Caressing your hand while he tells you about his day ,

Sometimes, he's not so subtle about your secret relationship, everyone assumed that you two had a crush on eachother, at the very least. You still kept it a secret notheless, no one needed to be in your business

sometimes he feels bad about not giving you any attention because he's so busy ! So expect to be smothered in kisses after his shift !

Gojo loves having shared showers / baths with you ! It doesn't even need to be sexual, he just feels relaxed with you in a bathtub !

Before you two go to work, you both go to a cafe that isn't really visited by anyone, no one familiar can see you two there so he can flirt and cling onto you all he wants !

You leave little notes in his lunch when you can't hang out with him during it, seeing them melts his heart, so he decided to do the same to you !

Whenever you call him he acts like you're his grandma or a doctor, but he's kind ofna good actor so everyone actually believes him for the most part !

NSFW ;

Behind closed doors it's anything but wholsome, if Gojo decided to act like a little brat, you'd stroke his wet cock and only stop if you felt it twitching which indicated that he was cumming ,

Spanking and fingering him over your lap, giving him a pillow to bite on and moan in. You slap his inner thighs, dangerously getting close to his cock, it leaks of pre-cum as you jerk it off for a second but then rob him of that pleasure !

But he still acts like such a little brat, being condescending on purpose, you slide a vibrating cock ring on his dick, then he sobs from the pleasure, screaming so loudly. The best part is that he can't cum, so he just squirms in your lap while you get harder from the sight ,

You stroke his white hair while his back arches and his body fidgets from the vibrations, Gojo grinding his cock pathetically on your leg. His drool seeping into fabric of the pillow, his mind was too far gone !

Using a little ball gag to block off his whimpers while you abuse his prostate with your cock, his thighs are shaking and his hole is getting more puffy ,

The pink hole looks so adorable trying to take you. When you take it all the way out, you can see it clench around nothing, then when you're about to put the tip in, his hole tries to desperately suck your cock in !

Satosugu x Reader vers. ;

SFW ;

Geto's more calm and collected than Gojo in the relationship, not to say that he doesn't have the same thought process, I mean, the two boys have been with eachother since highschool. It's nice to have a mix of peaceful and chaotic energy in your life ,

It's best to keep this relationship a secret since Geto is trying to get rid of all non-jujustu sorcerers, which makes him a major enemy to jujustu high, it'd go hellish if anyone found out about this poly dynamic ,

They love to suffocate you with kisses in the morning, no matter how 'ugly' you think the drool dribbling down your cheek looks or the crazy bed-head that you get is, it's the minimal time you all have together before starting the day

Geto actually looks so amazing in the mornings while Gojo looks like a wet cat, the raven haired man has such a princess look while he's sleeping, but when you look at Gojo, he just looks very messy ..

When they both get home, they just want to cuddle with you, not letting you go, even for the bathroom. Probably planned to pounce at you so you wouldn't escape their grasp !

Movie nights! You guys have one at least once a week, watching knockoff Disney movies with popcorn. You lay on Geto's chest while Gojo places his head comfortably between your thighs .

NSFW ;

Imagine you sending nude photos at work, Gojo basically mewling at the sight of your bare stomach and cock while Geto already getting hard, dick straining against his pants ,

When you all get home, they're already fighting to suck your cock, fighting to yank off your underwear, looks like you have to punish them for fighting ~

You make the other one watch while you fuck one of them, not letting him touch himself either, but you make sure that the one that's reciving treatment doesn't get to cum, he doesn't deserve it anyways

Gojo getting on top of Geto to make out with him, you spread both their legs to push the head of your cock inside their velvety hole. Spanking both of their thighs until it turns red, and teasing their holes, they both whine from the minimal pleasure they receive ,

You make sure that they don't get to reach their orgasm, you pull out your fat cock to see their cute holes wink at you, basically leaking for you ♡

You take turns to fuck them, but they cry when they don't get attention from your dick. You have to fuck the brattiness out of them until they're both babbling from the amount of cum covering them and filling them up !

Geto gargling on your cock and Gojo sucking your balls, they look so cute! Hearts in their eyes while they try their best to please you ,

The pleasure bekng so intense that you shoot gallons of cum, the white liquid dribbling down their chins making sure to drink up every last drop !

You make sure to shove buttplugs in their spasming holes so none of your seed can escape, taking care of them by feeding them with your cum !

[cameronspecial]

Rafe x reader - camping trip with both families, they are made to share a tent. Maybe she forgets her bedcover and rafe offers his but she doesn’t accept it. She then gets cold and he warms her up.

Flirting, kissing, body warming naked

Stubborn Little Girl

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Sexual Jokes and Being Naked Together In A Non-Sexual Situation

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.0K

Masterlist

Everyone knows Y/N is stubborn. She can’t be swayed to change her choices for anything and it drives people crazy, especially because it means she won’t admit when she made a bad call. Her parents tried to warn her that she would need more than what she packed for their camping trip, yet she wouldn’t listen. She already decided what she needed and argued that since she was an adult, she didn’t need her parents' input. This belief doesn’t change even with Rafe’s concern. Rafe and Y/N just finished putting up their tent and she is dragging all their stuff inside of it. He looks through the trees to the other clearing where their parents and siblings are setting up camp. There wasn’t enough space for both of the families to be in the bigger clearing, so they agreed that the oldest siblings would share a tent in the small clearing a few feet away. He watches as she pulls out her blow-up mattress because of course, a Kook will glamp. She pumps her mattress and exits the tent. “Aren’t you going to put any bedding on it?” Rafe questions, pointing to the bare plastic. She shrugs, “Nah. I’ll wear a hoodie to sleep. I should be fine.” “It’s supposed to get colder at night, Kitten. You’ll need actual blankets,” Rafe points out. Y/N rolls her eyes, “How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that, Cameron? And I’m a grown woman. I don’t need you to tell me what to do.” 

She body-checks him as she passes them toward their families. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he yells after her with a shake of his head. Even though they’ve known each other since they were little, Y/N and Rafe have always had a hot and cold relationship. Cordial moments would quickly turn to an argument with the snap of their fingers and vice versa. They may have been closer in age than the other siblings, but Y/N bonded better with his sisters because their gender gave them more in common, while Rafe took her little brother under his wing. It may not have been a great idea to put Rafe and Y/N in the same tent, except it is the only option they had. 

———

After hiking, eating dinner and spending time around the bond fire, everyone returns to their tent. Sleep can’t fall upon Rafe because he can hear the constant rustling coming from Y/N’s mattress. He tilts his head to the side and catches her movement. She keeps switching from side to side, always bringing her legs in toward her chest and her arms wedged between the two. He can see the shivers that wave through her body. Rafe sighs and peels his blanket off of him. He shifts to one side of his mattress. “Come on,” he orders. She looks at him with a crease between her eyebrows, “I’m fine.” “Don’t be ridiculous, Kitten. You are freezing,” he asserts, getting up to pull her by his side. She struggles against him, “I said I’m fine, Cameron. I don’t need your help.” She won’t budge; however, Rafe knows how to get her mind to waver. “Stop being a stubborn little girl. If you get sick, then who is going to take care of Steven after school?”

She freezes at the mention of her little brother, processing the truth of Rafe’s words. Although her parents are Kooks who can afford a nanny, ten-year-old Steven is taken care of after school by his big sister. He is extremely introverted and doesn’t like to be left alone with strangers, so Y/N takes care of him whenever she can. Rafe has seen her loyalty to her family and figures it would be the only thing to get her to change her mind. It does. She stops resisting his hold and rests her body against his. Her front accidentally presses against his front and she feels the stiff member in his pants. She giggles, “Are you sure the only reason why you wanted me in your bed is because I was cold?” His face reddens and he pulls her hips away. “Shut up,” he groans. Eventually, he begins to chuckle with her. The laughter dies down, but her shaking doesn’t stop and this worries Rafe. “I think we both need to strip naked,” he suggests, already preparing to take off his shirt. This causes her to completely detach from him, “Woah, slow down, Cameron. Just because you are nice to me, it doesn’t mean I’m going to have sex with you, especially with our families so close by.” He shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant. You are shaking like an earthquake and we needed to get you warmed up,” he explains. 

“And how is getting naked going to help me with that?”

“Because my body heat will help warm up yours. I promise this isn’t for any funny business. I just don’t want you to get a cold.”

“You really think this is going to work?”

“I promise.”

She doesn’t voice her agreement and instead, begins to remove her clothes herself. Rafe follows her movement until they are completely nude. They avoid the temptation of looking at their private areas by looking at each other in their eyes. The silence is broken up with laughter. “This is definitely not awkward,” she jokes, placing her hand above her elbow. He places his hand on top of hers, “It doesn’t have to be.” She tilts her head to the side as he brings his face closer to hers. His lips pucker and he gives her enough time to pull away before their lips touch. She closes the distance, lacing her fingers through his hair to bring him closer. His hands fall on her hip to tug her closer to him. They break the kiss for air and place their foreheads against each other’s. “Thank god you are such a stubborn little girl,” he whispers. Kisses and giggles fill the tent until both of them fall asleep from exhaustion and newfound warmth. 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

[inhonoredglory]

Defining Ineffable Love (or, Aziracrow Learn the Rules of Romance)

(In response to this ask about ineffables and asexuality)

One of the major threads this season was Aziraphale and Crowley asking themselves what exactly is their relationship. Not what it is in terms of how much they love each other. (That's a given.) But what it is in terms of the human implications of their love.

Crowley and Aziraphale definitely come at the relationship with different perspectives, in terms of what they’re willing to admit to the relationship being. I don’t think we can entirely interpret it in human terms. –David Tennant (source)

For 6000 years, they’ve never put a name on their relationship. They didn’t, because they’re inhuman, genderless, sexless beings and they didn’t grow up (as it were) with labels. And even when they did learn them, they couldn’t say it was love, because admitting that was a death sentence.

All of Aziraphale’s heart eyes and pining could live comfortably in his mind if he never admitted what that said about him as an angel (trauma compartmentalization). Crowley tries desperately to be cruel and nasty to add white noise around the blatant reality of his constant loyalty to Aziraphale. If you don’t put a word to it, it’s not real and they can’t punish you.

After the Not-pocalypse, for all rights and purposes, Aziraphale and Crowley chose humanity as their identity. We see Aziraphale “playing house” in various human roles (as a landlord, a private eye, a magician).

We even see Crowley intentionally taking on human behavior to handle emotional issues: “Just breathe, that’s what humans do.” They’re slowly and intentionally enculturating themselves into the world they want to belong––earth.

Yet it’s setting up Maggie and Nina that makes Aziraphale and Crowley start thinking about their relationship as a human construct.

Because fundamentally, Aziraphale and Crowley are not human. Like Neil Gaiman tells us constantly, they can’t be defined in human terms when it comes to gender and sexuality. They can shift and move through each and any of those markers at will, purely for the pleasure of the thing: “angels are sexless unless they really want to make an effort.”

IMO that makes them originally asexual, in the sense they were created without the need for sex. And it makes them fundamentally transgender and genderfluid, because while on earth, their sexless, eldritch spiritual bodies take on human, gendered forms and clothing. What gender (and sexuality) they identify with while on earth varies through the eras. Crowley definitely has a fluid gender identity, while Aziraphale appears to have settled on gay man (aka THE southern pansy) for his internal typology (although all of these identities are subject to change).

In the midst of all this fluidity, it’s no wonder Aziraphale and Crowley haven’t thought of their relationship in human terms before. There’s just so much different in them and their bodies than what they see in humanity. And there are no books and songs that show the kind of love they have, in the malleable, sexless bodies they have, with the background they have; it’s all ineffable.

Aziraphale and Crowley didn’t start out thinking they were in a romantic relationship. Whatever feelings they had were long repressed, redefined, and shuttled away. But they did love each other, without question. And it was that love which scared them, because it was bigger than anything they saw among humans, a love that was beautiful and blasphemous and unfathomable.

Kinda like what David Duchovny said about Mulder and Scully in The X-Files, “I don’t know if they’re in love. In a way, their relationship is deeper than that, because they cannot live without each other.”

Now take this profound, ineffable love and drop it into the little boxes and labels human culture has created for itself.

Full disclosure: I’m an asexual demiromantic person in a queerplatonic relationship, so I’ve done a fair bit of research on what romance is and how the rituals of romance are, in many ways, social inventions that vary from culture to culture. There’s love and then there’s romance, and they don’t always overlap. So my interpretation of Aziraphale and Crowley comes through this lens and the fact that Neil Gaiman has affirmed the validity of an ace-spec reading on our ineffables.

Which brings me back to my thesis: That only now are Aziraphale and Crowley thinking of themselves as a romantic couple, precisely because they are interfacing with humans and taking on their social rules.

I like this one asexual person’s description of their experience, which feels very much like our ineffables (from a very good article, I def recommend):

If there is a border between friendship and romance, then in my internal landscape, it goes right through a misty forest where no one has ever bothered to place signs.... Neither of us had intended to start anything even vaguely romantic, but the activities we did and the intense kind of immediate connection we had was coded as romantic in our culture.

That’s what Crowley realizes when Nina confronts him about his relationship to Aziraphale.

“It looks like that from here.” What Crowley and Aziraphale share is beyond definition, but Nina cannot imagine the anything beyond the human labels she was taught. The tragedy of an everlasting love is that it can only be conveyed properly to other humans if it is cast in such small human words––partner, boyfriend, husband.

Because when Crowley denied those human roles for Aziraphale, Nina slid down the path of thinking Aziraphale was just his “bit on the side,” because there were no labels left she could imagine for them. If you don’t put a word to it, it’s not real.

That’s the purpose of labels, to culturally validate a person's identity. Labels, of course, DO NOT create reality; people's experiences are always real, in all their varied ineffability. But labels allow a space for culture (ie other humans and political and legal society) to recognize formally your lived reality.

So Crowley started really thinking about him and Aziraphale, about the ineffable love between them and realized that in human terms, those would be the things he’d call Aziraphale, because those were the words that gave Aziraphale that place of importance in his life.

But with that realization comes all the human trappings and behavioral patterns around those words (the candlelit dinners, dramatic rescues, drinks at the Ritz, etc.) which Crowley had never thought of before, and yet… maybe romance is what he and Aziraphale have been doing all along.

That’s why this season centered so much around Aziraphale and Crowley using cultural artifacts (film and literature) to understand romance, because romance is so deeply socially-defined.

Aziraphale himself has been leaning hard into the romantic social cues (he’s more well-read in the cultural trappings of romance than Crowley is), especially post-Blitz. But when he watches Maggie and Nina dancing, he works up the courage to do something with Crowley that’s even more explicitly loaded as “traditionally romantic” than anything he’s done up to that point.

Because while risking their lives for each other and defying everything for each other is love in its purest form, dancing (specifically in Jane Austen’s world) is a public performance coded for potential marriage partners. It's an intimate ritual of the entire body. (And in British slang, dancing has been used as a euphemism for sex.)

Crowley's "We don't dance" is really telling, because it shows Crowley’s awareness of the unknowable devotion between them vs the human roles Aziraphale is asking him to fill, specifically its physical aspects. Aziraphale is asking to make their relationship more public, more physically explicit, more coded as romantic in a setting specifically intended to couple individuals.

While Maggie and Nina inspired Aziraphale to progress their relationship into a publicly physical direction, Maggie and Nina inspired Crowley to think of the emotional implications of their human roles: the commitment, security, and monogamy of a husband, a partner, an us.

That’s what he decides after Maggie and Nina confront him in the end. “You never say what you’re really thinking.” He wants to codify his relationship so they each become responsible to one another. Aziraphale has always been his soulmate, the one he could always rely on. But he wants to place a word and a role to their love that will bring with it Aziraphale’s commitment and dedication to him.

And that's another reason why Crowley kisses Aziraphale, because he knows Aziraphale was willing to make their relationship physical, and he wants that, too. To consummate this bond in the way humans do.

But Crowley doesn’t really know how to kiss; he’s not as worldly as he makes out to be. (It’s Aziraphale who owns the gun, and Crowley who’s never fired one.) He uses the kiss as a tool to get across to Aziraphale what he wants for them, in the physical language Aziraphale has been using, because "one fabulous kiss and we're good," right?

But it doesn’t work, because real life and real emotions don’t work like that; life and love don’t follow a script, despite the novels and plays and songs.

Aziraphale and Crowley spent this entire season trying to figure out what their relationship is and what they wanted out of it, trying to make sense of the unfathomable thing they share and the human implications of it, and not quite landing on the same page.

Part 2 of this Analysis, covering a correction in Crowley’s statement (“You don’t dance”) and the further implications of dancing/sex.

[holybibly]

hmmm shy recently presented omega has a crush on older omega hwa......... but it's too embarrassed to confess because she thinks alphaxomega are meant to be but wants so so bad to mix slick with hwa

૮꒰ ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ྀི꒱ა

Oh baby, I love this so much.

Our gorgeous Omega Seonghwa, lovingly caring for the little innocent Omega who doesn't even know that Hwa is just waiting to wrap her up in his silky sheets.

NSFW link highlighted in text

It was easy to fall in love with Seonghwa - it was too easy. He was soft, gentle, radiant and so beautiful that just the sight of his face was enough to bring tears to your eyes. Park Seonghwa was perfect.

Park Seonghwa was the perfect Omega.

In a society where all relationships are based on the second gender, Omega couples didn't stand a chance, your parents used to tell you.

"One day, you will find an Alpha who is worthy of you."

When you presented yourself as an Omega on your 21st birthday, your mother told you. But you didn't want an Alpha. You wanted Seonghwa.

You loved him so much that you went to work at the kindergarten where Seonghwa was teaching.

He had the scent of strawberries and champagne, a perfect match for your delicate scent of whipped cream and white chocolate. Everything inside you knew that you were made for Seonghwa, but the gendered framework your parents put you in prevented you from even hinting at how you felt.

And even if you did, you were sure that Seonghwa would reject you; why would he want a shy little Omega when he had so many beautiful Alphas all around him? Of course, Seonghwa was dating; he often went out, and the next day he shyly hid countless purple hickeys on his thin, long neck. You always wanted to be the one who would leave them on his neck.

He didn't often tell you about his one-night stands, even though you were friends. Or Seonghwa was friends with you while you drooled over him and embarrassedly flowed for him. It was terribly awkward and embarrassing for you to admit it, but your panties were always wet because of his presence. As if your desire for him was not already obvious, your body clearly showed its willingness to give in to him and allow Seonghwa to claim you as his own. Allow another Omega to be your mate.

It was almost a year of unrequited longing for Seonghwa until one day you met Yunho. He was a tall, charming Alpha with a face that made you want to get married.

Yunho was a great distraction from your slightly painful love for Seonghwa, and you were happy about it, or so it seemed. While your relationship with Yunho was on the rise, your friendship with Seonghwa was on the decline. He was pulling away from you, becoming quieter and more withdrawn. His beautiful, sparkling eyes became distant and dull when he looked at you, and his juicy and delicious strawberry smell became sour in your presence.

You searched desperately for the reason for such a drastic change, but you were never able to understand what exactly was your fault until one night.

You and Yunho were already at the stage in your relationship where sex was almost a vital part of it. And although the Alpha was a true gentleman and did not insist on anything, you were no fool and understood perfectly well that if you spent the coming heat separately, your relationship would come to an end.

You didn't even know who to talk to about it because you had never had sexual experience with an Alpha before. That was until your eyes fell on Seonghwa. So you plucked up the courage and went up to the older Omega.

"Hwa, I'd like to have a word with you in private, if that's ok?" Already feeling the mucus leaking from your hole and staining your underwear, you shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. As always, your body gave an automatic greeting to Seonghwa.

His lips parted, and his tongue flicked out a little to lick the plump pink flesh before he swallowed loudly and gave you a reply.

"Are you able to come over to my house today?"

"Yeah, sure." You gave a sweet nod. "Thanks a lot, Seonghwa."

It was hot, wet, and sweet, and yes, sweet, because Seonghwa tasted exactly the same way—morbidly sweet. How you ended up here—in the silky bed of Omega Park Seonghwa, with his long tongue between your legs—you have no idea.

As agreed, you came to see him in the evening, nervous and overwhelmed, hoping to talk about the coming heat and how to spend it with Yunho, but it didn't go as planned.

"Seonghwa..." You moaned loudly as Seonghwa's tongue carefully licked your pussy and you arched back on the bed. Your slime poured out of you like a waterfall. It mixed with Seonghwa's and filled the room with the incredibly decadent scent of strawberries and cream, with the finest hint of white chocolate and sparkling champagne.

"You're so perfect, Princess. Perfect for me, no Alpha could ever have you; you were made just for me," he said. With each letter spoken, his plump, soft lips touched your pussy, his hot breath flowing around the sensitive folds, stimulating you further.

All this made your head spin. You couldn't believe that Seonghwa, who you had been in love with for so long, was fucking you in his bed right now.

The excitement becomes unbearable and you can feel the knot in your stomach burning.

Seonghwa smiles as he notices the way your hips unconsciously arch to meet his tongue and lips. His own excitement grows every time your legs try to close around his head and a trembling moan escapes your throat.

He has been dreaming about you for so long, imagining this moment a thousand times, going mad thinking about tasting you and making you his. Seonghwa had always wanted you, and after he had smelled the creamy slime of you for the first time, his desire had become almost painful. He had planned everything, had thought of your whole life in advance and was just about to ask you for a date when Yunho appeared and all of his plans were shattered like glass.

The handsome Alpha was like a bone in his throat. He tried to distance himself from you, to let you go your own way with a sweet Alpha who would love you and respect you. But every night when he fell asleep, Seonghwa imagined him kissing you, worshipping your body with his lips and tongue. He imagined him tasting you, mixing your mucus and his on your tongues while you moaned into each other's mouths. Seonghwa wanted you and now that he had you, he wasn't going to let you go. He is making you his.

As Seonghwa's lips wrap around your clit, sucking lightly, you unconsciously spread your legs wider for him. You arch your back sharply as the older Omega worships your beautiful swollen cunt with her magnificent mouth. He kisses it hungrily and lets out a moan of his own as he feels the slickness of your dripping into his mouth.

The whimpers, moans, sighs, and Seonghwa's loud slurping sounds of shameless cunt eating bounce off the walls of the elder Omega's exquisite bedroom as you writhe and tremble under his ministrations.

His big, shining eyes never leave your sweet, flushed face, but as soon as you take your eyes off him, the stimulation immediately stops.

"Have a look at me, my love. Look at how I am enjoying you; I love you so much." Seonghwa's voice sounds almost desperate in your mind, which is clouded by lust. You nod and quickly look back to meet the eyes of the gorgeous Omega.

His long, deft tongue touches your plump clit as he sucks sweetly on it. It sends shivers down your spine. Tiny beads of sweat roll down your heated skin, and you feel like you're suffocating. Your cum stains Seonghwa's face and silk sheets, older Omega's own oozing from his pretty pink hole. Seonghwa has been fucked many times in his life, but it was always his dream to fuck you, and for some reason he was sure it would be a million times better than the knot of some worthless Alpha.

Your hips jerk forward, and Seonghwa's face literally buries itself in your sweet pussy. He doesn't mind at all and eats you up with even more devotion and passion. As you get closer and closer to coming, you find it harder and harder to keep your eyes open.

You close your eyes for just a second, but it is enough for Seonghwa to stop and ruin the orgasm you are about to experience. The line between pain and pleasure is so blurred that it may not exist at all. The fire burns beneath your soft skin and pulls a frustrated moan out of your throat.

The excitement is running through your veins, making you tremble in Seonghwa's arms, and your pussy is clenching around nothing. You struggle to catch your breath, still shaking from the intensity of the experience. The only thing that occupies your hazy mind is the burning sensation between your legs. You have never been touched before; you have never allowed anyone to caress your body; no one before Seonghwa, and these sensations are literally destroying you from the inside out.

As Seonghwa runs his finger around your small, shrinking hole, you let out a high-pitched whimper. You feel the tip of the Omega's finger caress your silky walls as it penetrates you, and you squirm in an attempt to get more of the necessary stimulation from one finger.

The two fingers that are already inside you are gently curling, stretching, and spreading until your mucus soaks the whole of Seonghwa's hand and runs down his forearm, making you so wet that he can slide a third long finger into you without any resistance. Then Seonghwa jerks his hand back sharply and watches as your whole body trembles from the intense stimulation and as your pretty little mouth opens in a soft cry of pleasure. 

He can't wait for your lips to wrap around the flowing head of his cock and press against his own wet hole so that you can get a taste of his slickness.

Seonghwa slides his long fingers in again, enjoying your delicious squeal before he stops moving. You let out a whimper; the sound was soft and pitiful.

"Seonghwa, please..." You arch on Seonghwa's fingers, buried deep in your pussy, jerking your hips in treacherous desire.

The older Omega leans closer to you, kissing and licking the soft pink folds of your cunt, greedily gulping down every drop of your slick like a drunk.

His lips wrap around your swollen clit once more and pull it into his beautiful, hot mouth. It is at this moment that the words seem to leave you completely, your voice dissolving into incoherent cries and moans.

Your knuckles turn white as you grip the damp silk sheets beneath you, now soaked in a mixture of your own and Seonghwa's mucus. Your eyes are glazed over, but you can't take your eyes off the stunning Omega between your legs, his lips enveloping your pussy.

Eventually you can't hold out any longer, your orgasm growing stronger by the second.

"I'm so close, Seonghwa, oh my God..."

"Come on, darling, cum... please cum for me; I want to see your face when you cum on another Omega's fingers and mouth." Seonghwa answers you before he starts swirling his tongue around your sensitive clit again.

His simple permission is enough to make you come in an obedient manner. The orgasm spreads visibly through your body; your moans mix with Seonghwa's; you feel the vibrations on your pussy; your mucus flows uncontrollably out of your hole; and Hwa swallows it as if he's dying of thirst. His fingers continue to stroke your tender walls from the inside.

Your whole body is shaking so much that it's hard to tell when exactly you've come again, splashing out streams of mucus out of you and making the bed underneath you wet. Seonghwa feels his own hole tighten as you orgasm, his cock twitching painfully against his flat stomach. You two are an absolute mess—a wet and slippery tangle of bodies in love. He doesn't care how disgusting you look now; everything is covered in mucus and saliva. Now you belong to him, and he will never, ever let you go. Even if he has to put up a real fight, Seonghwa will fight to the death for you.

You were created for him and only for him, and the fact that nature did not make him an Alpha is not a sign that he will ever sacrifice his love.

You had the impression that your soul was on its way out of your body. You squirmed in Seonghwa's arms, searching for something to keep you grounded in reality. Your trembling hand wrapped itself around the hand of the older Omega that was between your legs. Seonghwa continues to caress you, curling his fingers around you and hitting that delicious spot inside you again and again.

Your toes are curling up, you are choking on your own moans, and tears are flowing freely down your flushed cheeks as the stimulation becomes so overwhelming that you are struggling to stay conscious.

And then another orgasm hits you, sending you over the edge and tearing a loud moan of Seonghwa's name out of your throat.

With a last soft kiss on your clit, Seonghwa pulls away and you suddenly go limp, like a puppet that has been cut from its strings, and you fall limply onto the mattress, your breathing becoming short and rapid. Seonghwa smiles at you tenderly and wipes the mucus from his chin with the palm of his hand before licking it off of his hand.

"I am so in love with you, starlight." He whispers and gives you a tender kiss on the cheek, enjoying the salty tears he can feel on his lips.

After a while, you finally come down from your high and bury your face in Seonghwa's shoulder, breathing heavily as you do so. The older Omega lets out a soft sigh and kisses your forehead, holding you close to him.

"My love for you is more than words can express." There is no point in hiding it any longer, you are crazy in love and as it turns out, the feeling is mutual. You feel a sense of peace and contentment in this embrace, in the warmth of your closeness. You feel that you belong to each other at last.

"I am more in love with you than life itself, my princess." Seonghwa whispers back to you, his voice heavy with emotion and filled with sincerity and warmth.

As you embrace each other, the world around you seems to disappear, leaving only the warmth of your love between you.

[txttletale]

Obligatory "in good faith" premise.

I've seen an argument against tme/tma that focuses on the fact that there's no similar terms for other types of oppression (as in, no terms like "racism affected/exempt"), and how tme/tma aren't good terms because they imply there's people who can't be affected at all by transmisogyny, regardless of whether it would be "misdirected" or not (which I do think it would be, although a lot of people against tme/tma would disagree).

Since tma/tme functionally ends up meaning just "transfem" and "not transfem" (or at least that's how ive seen it used and advocated for), do you think there's something to the idea that we could just say that instead when discussing transmisogyny? Or is there something about these specific terms that adds to the conversation?

I mean, I guess it would be awkward to put "not transfem" in your bio maybe

i mean like. there are those terms, though, those terms dfo exist, they're jsut called 'poc' and 'white'. liike the construction of 'whiteness' is such that it basically literally means 'racism exempt' within the context of white supremacy (which is ofc the context in which most discussion of racism takes place).

i feel like people are really getting caught up on like, 'exempt' and 'affected' as like, total absolutes 100% of the time and bringing up edge cases as though this absolutely refutes them when i think that's not a particularly useful thing to do for what are fundamentally abstractions for discussing a particular set of nuanced and diverse relations to transmisogyny! like obviously every single person has a unique and specific relationship to transmisogyny, but that doesn't make the terms useless an ymore than 'gay' or 'trans' are useless because people have complicated sexuality or gender situations.

& i think that if we started saying 'transfem / not transfem' then all the exact same edge cases and arguments would just start shifting onto the definition of the word 'transfem'. which i don't think is synonymous with TMA. i think that e.g. arguing that drag queens who regularly have their lives threatened by nazi militiamen with guns are not Transmisogyny Affected is kind of sillygoofy, right, but a lot of them don't identify as transfem! & i think moreover that saying 'trans women' and 'non trans women' kind of is the exact same maneuver as people who say 'don't say cis' because like the implicit content of using those constructions is that there are 'default' people who need no descritpor and then there are 'transfems', right?

+ i think TME/TMA are valuable because they articulate exactly what's relevant about the distinction, which is a relationship to transmisogyny. like a trans guy isnt 'TME' because he's a trans guy, but because if he gets into an argument with me he can pull out the classic 'aggressive' 'scary' 'creepy' 'predatory' 'sexual deviant' cards and try to have me socially murdered and have people side with him by default, something he shares with a cis guy and a cis girl in the exact same situaiton. because of the Trans Misogyny that i am Affected by and he is Exempt From and that therefore can be weaopnized against me in any interaction.

[geekgirl-1717]

Cuddling with... One Piece Characters!

Part 2 (Franky, Nami, Robin, Ace, Sabo, Shanks)

TW: Non-sexual nudity for Robin's part and slightly suggestive jokes for Shanks' part, but otherwise SFW. Gender-neutral reader, no use of (y/n)

I kinda got carried away so some of this is just how they express affection in general ? But also there's cuddling too lol

How (more) One Piece characters would cuddle with you!

Franky: At the beginning of your relationship, he’s a little hesitant to cuddle with you. He’s much larger than you, not to mention that most of him is made of metal, which makes him worry. What if he accidentally hurts you? Is his body too hard or cold to cuddle you “properly?” But with enough reassurance, you’ll turn Franky into a cuddle machine! Due to his sheer size, he usually ends up spooning you or holding you in some way, like against his chest, but he will never turn down a chance to be the little spoon. This man is absolutely shameless in everything he does so he has no qualms about cuddling in front of others either.

Sleep was a precious luxury when sailing the seas. Getting a proper rest each night was never guaranteed, as any number of threats could have you springing out of bed and into the heat of battle at a moment’s notice.

It was a perfectly calm night. No freak weather incidents, no resonate booms of cannonfire, no stomps or shouts from your lively crew. Even better, you were curled up in the embrace of your boyfriend. You laid against his sturdy chest, his massive hands engulfing nearly your entire body.

Which only made it all the more frustrating when you couldn’t fall asleep.

You suppressed the urge to let out a groan, instead directing your gaze up towards Franky. His eyes were closed, but his breathing was somewhat shallow, leading you to believe he may not have been asleep either. You decided to take your chances.

“Hey Franky, are you awake?”

You whispered softly, absentmindedly tracing your finger across his collarbone.

His eyes didn’t open, but a large thumb started stroking up and down your back.

“Yeah. Can’t sleep either, baby?”

You let out a hum in affirmation. Franky slowly opened his eyes, flashing you a sleepy grin, one that you happily returned.

You both remained like that for a while, basking in the silence and each other’s love-stricken gazes. Finally, you spoke up.

“Can we switch? Wanna hold you.”

Franky chuckled, jostling you slightly from your position on top of him.

“Of course, baby. Whatever you want.”

He gently slid you off his chest, shifting so that he was laying on his side. You wrapped your arms around his waist, smushing your face into his broad back.

You never minded that your boyfriend was a cyborg, but you secretly loved moments like this. His back was so warm and soft compared to the rest of his metal body, and you couldn’t help but snuggle deeper into him.

Franky was enjoying himself just as much as you were. Franky was someone that radiated confidence from his very being, but he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t ever worry about how you perceived his unusual body. Feeling your warm breath fanning across his spine, your hair tickling his skin, the sensation of you pressing into the more sensitive flesh of his back, made him feel truly human again.

A large, imposing, audacious cyborg being spooned by his lover, whose arms could barely reach around the length of his body, would be a ridiculous sight for anyone else to behold. But the two of you were in absolute bliss, your prior sleeplessness forgotten as you both drifted into a peaceful slumber.

Nami: She loves to cuddle with the both of you facing each other, especially when you’re sleeping together. There’s been too many times in her life where she’s woken up alone, away from anything that’s ever felt familiar to her. Now, you’re the first thing she sees when she opens her eyes, reminding her that everything's real, that she’s safe now. She also likes any cuddling position where you’re holding her, whether she’s sitting in your lap, being the little spoon, or laying against your chest. She views cuddling as something more intimate and vulnerable, so she prefers to have it happen in private.

Sunlight slowly began to filter through the little porthole, scattering sunbeams across the room.

Nami was roused from her sleep as the offendingly bright light hit her eyes. She frowned in discomfort initially, wishing she could have gotten a few more precious hours of sleep. But as her vision adjusted and she took in the sight before her, her heart softened.

You, still slumbering peacefully. Your hair was a little mussed from sleep, your mouth hung open slightly as you breathed deeply, and your sleepwear was ruffled and wrinkled. But to Nami, you were the most beautiful thing she’d ever laid eyes on, more precious than any treasure she could dream of.

Your arms were wrapped around Nami’s waist, but she pulled back slightly from your grasp so she could get a better view of you. Unable to help herself, she reached out to brush her hand softly across your cheek, almost as if to affirm she wasn’t still dreaming.

The action stirred you from your sleep, but just you smiled and leaned into Nami’s touch.

“Good morning, love.”

Your voice was a bit raspy, but it was music to Nami’s ears.

“Good morning to you, too. Sorry for waking you.”

You shook your head, your eyes finally fluttering open.

“It’s okay.”

You pulled Nami closer to you, placing a kiss on her temple and resting your chin on the top of her head. She eagerly snuggled into your embrace, her arms coming to circle around your waist as well.

“Wanna just go back to sleep?”

You asked softly.

You weren’t quite ready to leave the warm comfort of your and Nami’s shared bed. Luckily, Nami seemed to feel the same way. She merely nodded in response, already drifting back to sleep.

This little routine of yours has become so normal, so mundane, and yet Nami cherishes every morning she wakes up next to you like it’s the first. To hold and be held by you reminds her that she’s finally escaped the horrors of her past, that she’s living out the dreams she’s had since she was a young child, and that she gets to do it all with you. And that’s worth more than anything money could buy.

Robin: Hold this woman. Please. You would think her Devil Fruit powers would make her the perfect big spoon, and of course if you want to be held by her, she would be more than happy to indulge you. But please make sure you hold her, too. She’s desperately craving the comfort and intimacy. However, it’s difficult for her to vocalize her needs and as such, you’ll have to initiate the majority of cuddling. A very common way you cuddle is Robin sitting in your lap leaning back into your chest while she reads, making sure to turn the pages slowly so you can read over her shoulder. Another private cuddler for the most part, but wouldn’t mind small displays of affection like leaning your head onto her shoulder.

“Darling, I’m going to take a bath. Would you like to join?”

Robin peeked her head into the room where you had been laying in your bed. You had been on the verge of taking a nap, but practically jumped at the opportunity to spend time with your girlfriend.

“Sure! Let me just grab a few things.”

You grabbed a change of clothes and some toiletries before taking Robin’s hand and letting her lead you across the ship.

When you and Robin first started dating, intimacy and vulnerability was something she struggled with. She had learned to live without much affection from a very young age, so she wasn’t used to giving or receiving it.

But you were patient and understanding, giving Robin all the time that she needed. Now, you both treasured the small moments of closeness you were able to carve out amidst your tumultuous lives as pirates.

Bathing together had quickly become one of your favorite ways to spend time with each other. Even when you two would try to read together in the aquarium bar or share a cup of tea on the deck, it was never a guarantee your peaceful moments wouldn’t be disturbed by one of your crewmates, and Robin was not one to indulge in PDA. Aside from sleeping together at night, taking a bath was the only way the two of you could cuddle without interruption.

After rinsing yourselves under the showerheads first and drawing a warm bath for yourselves, you settled into the water first, leaning back against the rim of the tub. Robin climbed in shortly after, resting her back against your chest. She let out a deep sigh, the tension practically melting off of her shoulders.

Although to anyone else it seemed that Robin was always calm and composed, as her lover you knew that she often kept her guard up, not allowing herself to be fully vulnerable. But alone with you, she was granted a rare moment to truly relax.

Wordlessly, you went about your usual routine, reaching for bottles of shampoo and conditioner and a bar of soap. You laughed softly to yourself when you recalled the first time you asked Robin to do this with you.

“Take a bath… together? My, you’re being rather bold today, aren’t you?”

She had teased, making your face heat up as you realized the implications of your words.

“N-no, nothing like that! I mean, not that I don’t want that- but I just thought, maybe uh- you’d want someone to help wash your back?”

You fumbled for any excuse you could think of. Truly, you had just wanted an excuse to spend more time with her. Neither of you brought up the fact that Robin could easily wash her own back with the help of her Devil Fruit ability, and to this day that fact remained unacknowledged.

You started with Robin’s hair, gently massaging shampoo into her scalp and brushing conditioner through the ends of her long, dark tresses. Then, you moved to wash her back, though you eventually devolved to just massaging the tense muscles. You couldn’t help but place soft kisses on her bare shoulders and neck from time to time, and Robin’s heart fluttered with each gentle press of your lips to her skin.

Even as the water grew tepid and your skin began to prune, you both remained in the bath. Your arms had found their way around Robin’s waist, her hands coming to settle on top of your own.

“Love you.”

You mumbled into her skin, finally breaking the peaceful silence. Robin turned her head to rest her face in the crook of your neck.

“Love you more, darling. Thank you.”

Ace: Not unlike his younger brother, Ace loves cuddling and physical affection. If you say you want to cuddle, he’ll drop whatever he’s doing and have you in his arms in a heartbeat. The rest of the Whitebeard pirates tease him for the way you have the infamous “Fire-Fist” wrapped around your finger, but neither of you are bothered by their words. He likes to have you resting against his side or chest, but also loves laying his head in your lap. Run your fingers through his hair and he’s a goner. When he falls into one of his sudden sleeping fits, you’re always there to lay him against your shoulder or across your lap.

The Moby Dick was as lively as ever, with alcohol flowing endlessly and the sound of drunken laughter and sea shanties filling the night air.

As much as you loved indulging in the festivities, it could get a bit overwhelming at times.

You had snuck away from the party a few minutes ago, making your way to the ship’s stern. You could still hear the ruckus of your crewmates, but it was much more muted now. You were sitting with your back against the ship’s railing, letting the sound of crashing waves soothe your senses. At first, the cool breeze felt refreshing on your flushed cheeks, as you were still a bit drunk yourself, but soon you felt a shiver wrack your spine.

“Hey sweetheart, you alright?”

Perfect timing.

You opened your eyes with a smile, instantly recognizing Ace’s voice.

“Mhm, I’m good. Just need a little breather.”

Ace made his way over to you, plopping down beside you and slinging an arm around your shoulder. You instinctively snuggled into him, resting your head against his chest. Despite his lack of shirt and the chill of the evening air, Ace’s skin was almost hot to the touch. Thanks to his Devil Fruit, your boyfriend often acted as your personal space heater, a role he was happy to take on.

You let out a contented sigh as you warmed up in Ace’s embrace. He let out a chuckle and leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

“Comfortable?”

He teased. You looked up at him, your smile never having left your face.

“Very. You’re really hot, you know?”

You said with a wink. Ace laughed out loud this time. He tried to put on a suave smirk, but you could see a hint of blush across his freckled cheeks.

“Oh, I know sweetheart.”

You both giggled at this, grinning at each other like two idiots in love. You eventually settled into a comfortable silence, Ace’s arm never leaving your shoulder. You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but you eventually felt Ace rest his head on top of yours.

The music and laughter continued in the background, and as much as you delighted in Ace’s presence, you didn’t want to keep him from the fun.

“Ace, honey, you can go back to the party if you want. I’ll come join you guys again soon.”

First, there was only silence. Then, Ace let out a snore above you.

You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself again. Of course, he has fallen asleep. Whether it was due to his narcolepsy or the exhaustion of drinking and partying, you weren’t sure. But you always cherished the moments when Ace would fall asleep on you.

Gently, you shifted Ace so that his head was now in your lap. You removed his hat and placed it on his chest so you could run your fingers through his dark locks.

From this position, you had a perfect view to admire Ace’s features. The way his bangs fell on his forehead, the constellation of freckles across his cheeks, the soft smile he wore even while he was sleeping.

Your back would surely start to ache from sitting against the railing, and your legs would probably end up falling asleep from Ace’s weight on them, but seeing Ace so at peace in your embrace made it all worth it.

Sabo: The ASL brothers just love to cuddle, what can I say? This man would hold you like a giant stuffed animal and refuse to let you go until he says so. The chaotic and uncertain life of a revolutionary means time to cuddle is exceedingly rare, so any opportunity you two can get is savored. Ultimately, Sabo’s not picky on how you guys cuddle, but he would favor arrangements that let him put his face in your hair. He finds your scent so comforting, especially after a difficult day.

Your eyes slowly cracked open as you awoke from your slumber. The room was silent and the sun hadn’t even begun to peak over the horizon yet, but your body knew instinctively it was time to wake up.

The life of a revolutionary was exhausting in many ways, but the hope of creating a better, more just world was enough to pull you out of bed each day to endure whatever grueling training or expedition was planned.

That, and knowing that every new sunrise meant another day of waking up with the love of your life. It was a precious gift, especially given the dangerous nature of a revolutionary's life. You loved Sabo, and he loved you, but it was only under the gentle spell of sleep, away from the terrors and turmoils of war, that you two could fully bask in each other’s comfort.

The object of your affections was currently still fast asleep, his arms draped loosely around your waist with his face pressed into your hair, lulled into slumber by your familiar scent. You wiggled in his grasp, turning so the two of you were face to face.

You always loved waking up before Sabo so you could steal a few brief moments to admire him. The only time you saw the young Chief of Staff truly at peace was asleep in the safety and comfort of your shared bed. You could never resist reaching a hand out to gently trace along his scar, a sight you found both saddening and beautiful at the same time.

You spared one last glance at your boyfriend before you rolled over again, shifting towards the side of the bed so you could get up and start preparing for the day.

You had barely moved an inch before the grip around your waist tightened, a strong pair of arms yanking you backwards. Sabo’s hold on you remained firm as he slung a leg over yours and buried his head into your shoulder, his whole body almost enveloping yours.

You huffed, but you couldn’t fight the grin tugging at the corners of your lips. You gave a half-hearted wiggle, pretending like you were trying to escape Sabo’s grasp when really you wanted nothing more than to fall back to sleep in his embrace.

“Sabo, love, we have to get up.”

Sabo only shook his head in response, his blonde hair tickling your bare skin. He wound his arms around you even tighter, almost squeezing the breath out of your lungs. Sabo snuggled into you like a child clinging to their beloved teddy bear.

“Jus’ a few more minutes.”

He mumbled, not even bothering to open his eyes.

And who were you to deny him?

Shanks: Believe it or not, he’s actually a little hesitant to cuddle or hold you at the beginning of your relationship. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be close to you, but age-old insecurities about his arm arise when you first get together. However, with lots of communication, reassurance, and love, you’ll turn Shanks into a cuddle fiend. He likes having you in his lap or resting against his chest. We know this man is shameless, so get ready for a lot of PDA. Shanks likes drinking, and he likes having you sit in his lap, so having you sit in his lap while drinking? Perfect! You’re in a public tavern with tons of people around? No worries!

“Shanks, honey, you gotta help me out here.”

Your voice was exasperated and strained as you struggled to keep both yourself and your intoxicated husband upright. Said husband was seemingly unaware of your plight, swaying to and fro with each clumsy step, leaning his full weight into where his arm was slung around your shoulder.

You nearly toppled over as Shanks leaned in to press a sloppy kiss against your cheek, laughing jovially as he did.

“I love you too, honey!”

You couldn’t help but smile along with him, your heart fluttering at such a genuine display of affection in spite of your previous annoyance.

After a somewhat perilous trek, you finally made it back to the Red Force with you and your husband thankfully unscathed. You gently guided Shanks to sit on your shared bed in the captain’s quarters, taking a moment to catch your breath. By this point, your clothes and hair had become disheveled and you could feel a thin layer of sweat accumulating from the effort it took to haul Shanks back to the ship. This, however, did nothing to deter your husband, who was currently gazing at you with such raw devotion and tenderness in his eyes that it made you falter.

You blushed and shyly turned your head away from Shanks, which only made him chuckle again. Despite having been married for years, he had the ability to feel like you were falling in love with him all over again.

You sifted through the dresser near the bed, pulling out a set of sleepwear for the both of you. As you approached Shanks, the heavy smell of alcohol lingered in the air, making you scrunch your nose up. He really needed a shower, and so did you to be honest, but you shuddered at the thought of washing him in this state. You had barely made it to the ship in one piece, but trying to keep Shanks upright on a wet, slippery floor sounded like a disaster waiting to happen.

I’ll just wash the sheets tomorrow.

You conceded, moving to discard your current outfit in favor of more comfortable pajamas. You turned your head back to see Shanks gaping at you. He looked almost sheepish, as though he were witnessing something he shouldn’t be despite having seen you in various states of undress more times than he could count, and now it was your turn to giggle at his flustered state.

Once you had finished changing, you moved on to your husband, grabbing the hem of his shirt and lifting it over his head. He complied easily, his abashed expression quickly being replaced by a smug grin.

“Oh? Just can’t keep your hands off me can you, sweetheart?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you tugged a nightshirt over Shanks’ head. Ignoring his suggestive smirk and wiggling eyebrows, you moved on to tugging off his shoes and pants. Shanks gave a teasing, low whistle in response.

“Wow, gettin’ right to business, are we? Not sure why you put my shirt back on, but I guess we can make it work-“

He was cut off by you flinging his pajama pants at his face. You could hear his muffled chuckles through the fabric.

“Put your pants on, pervert. We’re going to bed.”

“Again, not sure why I need my pants then-“

“To sleep, Shanks. We’re going to sleep.”

It wasn’t long before the two of you settled into bed. Even in his tipsy state, Shanks’ arm instinctively reached out to wrap around your waist, pulling you into his chest where you belonged. For all his eagerness earlier, Shanks seemed to fall asleep almost instantly, but not before murmuring sweetly in your ear.

“G’night baby, I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

[heliza24]

Thoughts about Domesticity, Carework, and the American Dream in episode 2.5 of Interview with the Vampire

I’ve been mulling over episode 2.5 a lot. There was so much to love in the episode (the incredible writing, the kitchen sink off Broadway play of it all, the chemistry between Luke, Jacob and Assad, the vulnerability in Eric’s performance). But my mind keeps circling a couple of themes, trying to piece them together. So as usual I’m here on tumblr to try to work it out. 

I keep coming back to the way that Armand was gendered in this episode. His big complaint to Louis was that he was “home picking lint off the sofa”. He arrives with “mop and misery” to clean up the mess. Louis insults him by calling him “the good nurse”. All those things are feminized. They’re also extremely of the era; these are Feminine Mystique, mid-century housewife type complaints. The wife’s job is to make the husband’s life smooth and never worry about her own happiness. Obviously in the 1970s we’re seeing this begin to change thanks to second wave feminism. We’re in the process of trying to ratify the ERA, Ms. magazine has just been founded, and things are shifting. The kind of cheery domestic American dream of the 1950s is definitely shifting, and we see this in the episode as well. Betty Hutton selling sewing machines competes with Spiro Agnew resigning on TV. The watergate scandal signified a loss of faith in American authority, a kind of parallel destruction of the country’s father figure (brought down by journalists, no less). The comfortable lie of domesticity, the “prison of empathy” that Armand has created around Louis is crumbling. Armand is boring but he’s also bored, like a housewife taking valium to get by. The whole episode is set in an apartment that reeks of divorce, according to Daniel, and we’re seeing it play out in real time. When Armand lashes out to hurt Louis, he does it not through direct violence, like Lestat, but by holding his failure as a father over him, telling him that Claudia  never loved him. That jab, in combination with the way he’s edited Louis’s memories (gaslighting, another time honored form of domestic abuse) is enough to get Louis to hurt himself. LIke a wife who is always outwardly obedient to her husband but spends her time exacting petty revenge against him for the way he takes her for granted, Armand’s methods are never violent. They are soft and subtle and targeted.

I have to thank @bluedalahorse for first alerting me to the way the crumbling domestic American dream is threaded through this episode. And after she mentioned it I saw it *everywhere*. 

Obviously there is a level of complexity here in the Loumand relationship that this metaphor cannot fully capture. For one thing, Armand is a man. He was turned in a time before modern understanding of gender and sexuality really solidified, so in some way it makes sense that he would be the most gender fluid of our main characters, but his position would be a lot different if he were a woman, even a woman vampire. And Armand is very powerful. His insecurities and crippling fear of being alone keep him from exercising this power and walking away in a way that would perhaps be healthier for both him and Louis. But he is not trapped economically or socially in the way a wife would have been in this era. (That being said, I get the sense that *something* about the way the fire happened in Paris has made Louis and Armand go to ground. Maybe there is an element of being “trapped together because of fear of exposure”. But even then, I think my point still stands.)

To drill down and become more specific, there’s an extra added layer to the way Armand is feminized in this episode. I’ve written a lot about disability in this show and also the way it approaches eugenics, and those things were very on my mind as I rewatched this episode. (To be fair, they are always on my mind when I watch anything. Being disabled will do that to you.) Anyway, the specific way that Armand casts himself in this episode is as a caregiver. He is a beleaguered, bitter caregiver to those weaker to him. I think you hear this especially when he describes to Louis what happened: “you said the worst things you ever said to me, and then you walked into the sun. And now you are a convalescent.” The absolute sneer on the word convalescent.  The absolute disdain for being put in this position again. The way he denies Louis the blood and keeps him out of his coffin for so long. The “final act of service” in calling Lestat. And then the tenderness laced with fear. Will he “be on suicide watch for the next 1000 years?”. 

Armand is fascinating to me because of the way he seems to instinctively reject people who remind him of his own past weaknesses. Those weaknesses are buried down deep in his characterization, but they’re there and they’re important. He was sick and wasting away when he was turned. And before that he was an abused sex worker. You can see the way he dismisses people in similar situations in the way he treats Daniel in this episode. He calls Daniel a “broken boy” when he’s talking to Louis. He casually rejects the idea that there might be any sort of truth captured in Daniel’s tapes. The interviews on those tapes are with a sex worker and gay veteran and his disabled refugee husband. All of these people are so close to Armand in so many ways. I even think this is why Armand comes down so hard on Claudia, and why he cannot abide the true empathy and love Louis has for her. Claudia was turned when her body was weak. Weaker and more disabled, so to speak, than Armand. But they are not dissimilar. But Louis loves Claudia anyway, and respects her strengths. No one ever shown the love Louis shows to Claudia to Armand. No one ever granted him true empathy. The only way he has been able to hold on to any love at all is to grovel, to manage, to care give. The only way he experiences care is to give it. Of course he’s broken, of course he’s bitter.

So now we come to Daniel. The broken boy who has suicidal ideation and a drug problem, things that make him imminently dismissable in Armand’s mind. But Daniel also has a drive, a passion for life, and a love for the people who slip through the cracks. Louis and Daniel definitely share this great affection for humanity, and it’s what allows them to connect in San Francisco and again in Dubai. And it’s what makes him inscrutable, and captivating, to Armand. Because there really is no greater act of service than telling somebody’s story. Daniel describes himself as a therapist ironically in Dubai, but what he’s doing is carework. It’s real empathy. And Armand doesn’t understand that. Armand doesn’t understand what someone is doing recording the stories of people who were just like him. A whole universe of possibilities opens in the moment when Armand almost starts telling Daniel his story. Out of all the ways Daniel tries to save himself, that little life line of empathy is what almost snags Armand. But then Armand clamps back down, realizes he’s staring into a “black hole”. He’s trying to insult Daniel when he says that, but to me it just sounds like he’s describing himself.

When Armand is lulling Daniel into death, the thing he chooses to describe to him is the American domestic fantasy. He describes it as a fate worse than death. He describes it as a boring trap. And he specifically casts Daniel in the masculine, straight role in that fantasy, with a wife “vacuuming on valium” who “counts down his thrusts”. In some ways Armand is painting his own relationship to Louis as the worst possible fate that Daniel could suffer. (And it makes me wonder– did Armand ever wonder if he would amount to anything? Does he think his life has any meaning at all, if you subtract the vampiric powers? Armand has never stopped to introspect like this, but I wonder what would happen if you forced him to.)

But Daniel is stubborn, and his desire to tell stories and empathize with people resists death. I love that he still defends himself, still claims that he’s “a bright young reporter with a point of view” and that that is worth something. Because it is.

When Louis asks Armand to save Daniel, Daniel unwittingly becomes a symbol of Louis and Armand’s continued marriage. He’s a wedding ring, a vows renewal. He’s emblematic of the continuation of failing vampiric domesticity. And when Louis tries to repair the damage Armand has wrought, he isn’t able to offer Daniel soothing words about his ability to find a spouse or raise children or understand love. Louis doesn’t understand those things, so how could he teach Daniel about them? But Louis has always understood stories and humanity, so he is able to gift Daniel his writing and his reporting back. 

I think you can interpret Daniel’s failed marriages and difficult relationship with his children in a lot of ways. We could say that he was always going to fail at these things, regardless of whether or not he met the vampires, because of the discontent that Armand sensed in him. Maybe the trauma that this aborted gay hookup with Louis created was enough to re-closet him, and send him down a dark road of unfulfilled straight relationships. Or maybe Armand’s words really did echo around in his head and pull him down as much as Louis’s lingered and sustained him over the years. Maybe we’ll get more answers about this as the show goes on, or maybe it will live in the ambiguous world of memory and manipulation the show so often plays in.

Regardless, I think this episode was a masterpiece, and the way it firmly established these themes about the failure of domesticity and the burden and joys of carework are going to really matter, I think, as we hit the brutal conclusion of the season. When emotions are at a breaking point, especially between Armand and Louis, they are going to resonate because they were grounded in this little claustrophobic wonder of an episode.

As a little postscript, I’m not quite sure where we’re going with Devil’s Minion after this episode, or if we’re even going there at all. If a DM timeline happened in the past, it would require additional editing of Daniel’s memory, and I’m not quite sure if that reveal would work structurally. (I would love to be proven wrong about this though, because I would love for young Daniel and Armand to have interacted more, for Assad and Luke’s chemistry if nothing else. They were so wonderful together.)  If it were to happen in Dubai, or to happen again Dubai, however… well that’s interesting. Because older Daniel is disabled. He’s even more firmly in this category of people that Armand is apt to dismiss. And if they were to get together, there would probably be some aspect of caregiving on Armand’s part. And there would also be some caregiving on Daniel’s part, in his ability to listen to Armand. So that has the potential to be really fascinating, and maybe mutually beneficial to both characters. But I think we have to cover a lot of ground before we would be able to get there.

[bluetooththereptile]

Father in law (part one)

(Potential yandere Bruce Wayne x reader)

( English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes in the following text.)

Note: I use a gender neutral name, Angel, for Bruce's child.

Summary: Your life with your partner isn't going well, you have to do something about it.

Tw: mentions of abuse, harm and unaliving.

The sound of the TV echoed in the living room of the Manor, the atmosphere of the room tense, it had been like that since whenever you visited your partner. You rolled your eyes as you heard the chuckles of the presenters on the screen, a picture of you taken by paparazzi when you were in a hurry plastered on the corner of the screen. Angel tried to distract you by offering you a cup of tea but you declined, making them worry even more for you, but you were too lost in your misery to care.

Since your relationship became serious with Angel your life had become a literal hell, every date had ended up in some form of misery for you, Angel didn't get any of the side effects of your situation though and you didn't know how it had happened. How you had ended up on the paparazzi news, your life displayed as the worst version of what it could be, belittled and bullied, you had lost your job because of your tarnished image and you had lived in your car since your landlady had thrown you out because you were a "sexually deviant, arrogant and abuser" person and she didn't want you close to her own home. Speaking of the car, you had to refill its tank, but you didn't have the money for it. Damn it!

You groaned under your breath as you looked At angel who had tilted their head to the side, calling your name to catch your attention. God, how much you both hated and loved them at the same time. It was easy to love them, they were kind and caring, beautiful in every sense, perfect in every way, no wonder they were so popular, but, that also was the reason that you hated them as well, they had everything you did not, and since the time you had started dating, your life had become a literal hell.

"Angel..." you spoke, a little surprised by your tone, it sounded...weak "I wanted to talk about something..." Their body turned towards you so they could give you their whole attention, you wanted to wince at the gleam in their eyes, they looked at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world, at first it was pleasant to have someone like that but now it was sort of like a hex, giving you the chills. Shivering slightly you cleared your throat and shifted on your seat "I've been thinking about breaking up..."

"What?! Why?!" Angel's hurt voice made you recoil in your seat, you wanted to tell them everything, to tell them all that happened to you had made you miserable, but you only sighed in their response "Something has been bothering you?" Angel's question made you wince, Angel was perfect but had a mortal flaw, they were delusional, you didn't know but it ran in their family. In their eyes you weren't dirty or miserable, you were simply tired, bored, or perhaps a little sick. What was on TV was just a joke, and perhaps you didn't have the humor to laugh at it, you were just a little rusty, that's all, right? Then why you wanted to break up? Was the date you had not good enough? Your dates were so much fun, they always ended up with a funny scene, you had so much fun together, and you were perfect together, why now you were talking about breaking up?

You palmed your face, sighing, looking away from Angel, only to see their father standing in the corner with an interested look on his face, Bruce Wayne, oh God you hated that man to your core, whenever you met him he'd roast you so hard that you'd end up like a lump of burnt coal, the look in his eyes showed that he looked down on you, not to mention his fucking family, ugh, you just wanted to get away from all of this, after all, you got into that mess just for the sake of dating Angel Wayne.

You turned to your partner "Look, I just want to break up okay?" Angel paused, the look on their face darkening, oh dear God here we go. "Am I not enough? Y/N, I have done everything I could to make you happy! What is wrong? Don't you love me anymore?" "No! I don't love you anymore!" You said harshly, wanting to push them away, even if it meant they'd be hurt emotionally, but to your frustration, Angel took in a deep breath before speaking "I know I have been busy with my work and you've been under so much pressure lately, I understand that you feel burnt out and want to take some time apart but breaking up is just overreacting to our situation!"

You felt like you'd want to roll your eyes so hard that they'd come out of the other side of your head, they didn't want to understand, they didn't take no by its literal meaning. You sighed, rubbing your eyes, if it was with someone else you'd feel thrilled that someone was so understanding and considerate, so hell-bent on keeping you by their side but this wasn't that, you felt like you were suffocating under the pressure. Your phone rang, making you flinch, as you looked down at its screen you let out a scoff, it was another call from another unknown number, how your phone number had ended up on the internet for people to bully, you didn't know. You were sick of this, sick of life itself!

No job, no house, your own family hated you for just existing after fabricated evidence of your various offenses had been published, you couldn't hurt a fly, and yet you have assaulted an old lady...sexually?!?! Angel touched your arm to pull you out of your thoughts but then you slapped their hand away. standing up, you didn't even turn to look back at them for the last time, ignoring their pleas "Y/N, you're being ridiculous please stay-" Angel paused as Bruce talked "Let them leave darling..." you rolled your eyes once more before walking away, not looking back to see the smirk on Bruce's face as he held his child

down by their shoulders on their seat; stopping them from following you.

You didn't know why all of this had happened, you didn't know that it was all because of Bruce Wayne, the bastard himself. He had paid people to tarnish your image, ruin your livelihood, and push you into depression so you'd let go of his child, you were never perfect for his Angel, his Angel deserved someone so much better than you. Barging out of the Manor you walked your way outside the yard and the gates, of course, you didn't have the money to pay for a taxi, so you started a walk into the night, too frustrated and angry to think of your safety.

Before you could figure out where you were heading you found yourself in front of the drugstore your mother used to take you to, the cashier was still the same old lady with those large eyeglasses. Without thinking you headed into the store, perhaps some nostalgia would help? The smell of lavender filled your nostrils, you walked to the second isle to avoid eye contact with the cashier, sighing as you looked at the different things for sale, until your eyes landed on the familiar brown bottle, something that your mother used to call her little helpers...Xanax.

You reached out for the bottle and looked at it, whenever your mother took one of these everything seemed better since she'd end up more relaxed, perhaps if you were to take some you'd feel better too? But you didn't have the money to buy it, and clearly, you didn't want to embarrass yourself by asking to borrow it, so you looked around, and since the only camera in the old store was way away from you, you quickly put the bottle in your pocket, walking out of the store as if nothing had happened, you'd finally have some resemblance of relaxation soon.

....

Angel's cries echoed in the Manor as they banged their fists on the door, pleading for their father to be let out, they had to see you, they had to touch your body, even if it meant it was cold already. Bruce closed his eyes, leaning to the door of their room as he tried to think of something else, something other the fact that your suicide had ended up messing his child so much that they had gotten into a maniac episode. Dick had found your body in the car, motionless with the empty bottle of pills, you had given up on everything.

But what bothered Bruce was not your death or Angel's distress, it was the fact that he felt...pain. surely it wasn't because he deep down had softened up a little for you, right? He had told himself those lies for about a week, and it was driving him mad, he had to do something about it to save both his sanity and Angel's, and he'd do anything in his power to make things right.

[lexithwrites]

Moonwater head canons? How Sirius reacts, how they get together etc

This might get super long + I’ll throw some nsfw in there for fun:

- Remus wasn’t around as much as James was growing up but when he was, little regulus would always stare at him and he never knew why

- he was pretty average looking but there was something there that regulus liked

- and as they grew up, and he transitioned and came out, reg realised it’s because Remus is just a nice fucking guy

- regulus doesn’t really date at all (personal opinion) because he never really felt interested in it, sex too, it seemed too much so he doesn’t have much experience but he’s confident in what he likes and has very high standards

- Remus unfortunately gets fucked over a lot, he has a big heart and just wants to care for someone and people don’t appreciate that as much as they should so he’s been dumped a couple times

- but then one night when they group all goes drinking regulus touches remus’ arm during a conversation and something just shifts between them. They’re gently bumping arms and knees and their pinkies brush, Remus buys reg some drinks and regulus just leans his head on his shoulder most of the night

- Sirius knows. Sirius isn’t stupid, he can see it coming a mile away but wants one of them to come and tell him first, just in case

- they stay close after that and regulus texts Remus a lot because he doesn’t want to stop talking and Remus always smiles when he gets a new message

- then their relationship shifts into flirting and Remus is done for. He gets SO flustered and blushing because regulus is good at flirting with him, usually he’s not great but there’s something about Remus that let’s a new side out and he loves it

- he also starts getting off to thoughts of him and he’s usually lying in bed panting just wishing Remus was with him

- Remus is quiet but he has the filthiest mind when it comes to reg and he’s caught staring at him so many times it’s crazy

- then one night reg invites Remus over for dinner and after some glasses of wine reg just kisses his neck during a movie and they make out for SO long

- there’s grinding and touching and it’s the most intimate they’ve ever felt and it’s so beautiful

- they don’t have sex for quite a while after actually dating bevause they don’t feel rhe need to rush, plus making out and dry humping is fun af

- remus’ favourite thing to do is grab reg’s ass and squeeze and regulus likes holding remus’ bicep and drawing circles on his skin to make him shiver

- they kiss,,,all the time

- when they do eventually sleep together it’s slow and steady, and Remus makes it romantic so they’re both comfortable

- reg doesn’t get off the first time and Remus almost cried because he felt so guilty but then regulus later guides him during head and he cums so hard he tears up and Remus holds him so tight

- they shower together not even for sexual reasons it’s just practical and fun

- regulus goes non verbal around Remus a lot because he’s comfortable and Remus loves taking care of him during those moments

- he kisses reg’s hair and strokes his cheek to reassure him he’s happy to look after him

- regulus hates mornings but he wakes up early to get Remus coffee because his man has insomnia and wants to sleep in

- when they get more comfortable sexually they start getting more adventurous and they love trying new positions

- remus’ favourite is bending reg over things/prone bone whilst wrapping an arm around regulus and reg loves riding, but they both love missionary for the eye contact

- there isn’t a dom/sub dynamic with them but they’ve tried things before

- reg has called Remus daddy and even tho it’s rare it can be fun for Remus to take charge like that

- Remus does call reg sir a lot, it’s gender affirming but also regulus likes being in charge

- and Remus calls reg puppy/gets called puppy by reg when he’s really desperate (pet play Remus you’ll always be a star)

- reg doesn’t always like penetration and Remus is more than fucking happy to have his face ridden or be on his knees for his man any time of day (reg LOVES oral, giving and receiving)

- but besides sex they’re a very soft, intimate couple. They cook together, read together, nap and shower together, all of it

- they’re attached at the hip but still individuals and it’s a good balance

- Sirius was also happy when they told him, they never hid it and wanted his blessing first and he hugged them both

- but he did give them separate talks about not hurting each other otherwise he’d be mad

[ladyriot]

Once upon a time, I used to believe that the reason I read Rizzoli and Isles' Dean arc as queer was the way he came up in the fight that Maura and Jane have in the first episode of season 3, wherein Maura directs specific vitriol at Jane's "boyfriend" in her anger at feeling betrayed when Jane shoots Paddy. I've realized recently that it all starts much earlier. As in... the literal first episode. And it's actually, subconsciously, been one of the major reasons I ever interpreted Jane and Maura as potentially queer for each other.

In Jane and Maura's first scene on screen together, Dean makes an appearance that reveals a tension between the two women and plays off of their earlier intimacy.

First, Maura and Jane display their close, intimate relationship as they survey the crime scene. Both Maura's immediate defence of Jane as she chastizes Korsak for not warning her it was a Hoyt-like crime, and Maura setting Jane's broken nose present them as intimate.

This is placed almost immediately next to their meeting Dean for the first time, reinforcing him as a stranger, even an interloper onto that scene of intimacy. Maura indicates her interest in Dean non-verbally (which reads as intimate too), and further, she reads the potential for Jane's territorial behaviour to emerge and both gives a little warning and phsyically steps between them.

Because of Maura's displays of intimacy and knowledge of Jane, Jane's response of outright aggression becomes more meaningful. Her posture shift does not only indicate a desire to threaten Dean's intrusion onto her crime scene but also Dean's intrusion into her intimate connection with Maura. Jane slants herself as if she's offended she's not an option.

Um... what is that thing about how you point your feet at the person you're most engaged with in a social situation? There has to be some meaning about where you point your pelvis...

Anyway, later scenes show us what Jane looks like when she's inviting romantic attention from men, and that involves her making herself smaller, making herself look less sure and aggressive, and leaning into traditional femininity. It's quite the opposite of what she's doing here, which I read as laying a claim... on the crime scene but also on Maura.

This is fascinating because, at first, I'd mistakenly believed it was Maura's queer jealousy that cropped up first, but this reading actually presents the opposite scenario.

This kind of framing comes up again, in this same episode, when Jane flees her apartment to stay at Maura's for the night. In Maura's guest room, Jane spies to see who Maura's nighttime visitor is, and then they have that exchange on the bed. The question of Maura's potential attraction to Jane comes up in the same brief span as the question of whether or not Maura has ever had a crush on the same guy as her best friend, intermixing these two potential attractions in such an interesting way.

It's almost like Jane is giving mixed signals here. She's asking Maura if she's attracted to her only in joking terms... because for some reason she doesn't feel like she can ask it seriously. But as their conversation turns towards Dean, and their supposedly shared attraction to him, I'm instantly reminded of the concept of some of Eve Sedgwick's work on homosociality and erotic triangles and how those theories have impacted my own understandings of love triangles in media. I'm going to way oversimplify it here, but essentially when two people of the same gender are vying for the attention of the same different gendered love interest, I'm more interested in the bonds presented between the two of the same gender — whether it's rivalry, intimacy, potential sexual attraction (especially when it's wrapped up in taboos, social norm violations, and repression), or some complex mix of the three. And just, wow, this connection between Jane and Maura is ripe for that kind of reading. It becomes really easy to read Jane's "pursuit" of Dean as a way of attaining conventionality through a connection that also engages her potentially unconventional attraction to Maura (and a resistance to admit that) by being with someone Maura finds attractive. Jane isn't really showing attraction to Dean, but she is very much going for the closest conventional relationship she can that partly expresses her repressed, "taboo" attraction. (I wonder now if this contributed to my reading Jane specifically as a lesbian, rather than bisexual, through most of the series, but that's a bit besides the point).

Doesn't this just make it so interesting how Maura had physically insinuated herself between Jane and Dean?

It's also significant for me that when Jane does pretty herself up with lipstick to go see Dean, she rebuffs him and is consistently iffy about him despite the so-called attraction she admits to Maura. It's also very much giving that repressed queer experience of having a crush on a girl and being so jealous of her relationship, but not being able to conceive of yourself as queer, so mistaking that for a crush on her boyfriend. You know?!

Later on in the show, when Jane is with Dean, there is still so much to this dynamic. Maura calls Jane on a date with Dean and she immediately runs to meet her, choosing her, prioritizing her. It's what makes it so sick-inducing when, after Maura reveals that she doesn't know if she wants Jane to catch Paddy, Jane goes on to tell Dean the FBI agent with a hard-on for catching criminals at all costs about his presence in Boston in a specifically romantic scene. You know, which then causes a chaotic scene that requires Jane to shoot Paddy after feeling up his daughter to set her up on a sting... There was so much wrong with that, I'm honestly surprised there was a moment in Maura's tirade for her queer jealousy to slip in, but it does.

Hell if they're not in big fat queer love with each other, whether they admit it or not.

[maaarine]

The Heteronormativity Theory of Low Sexual Desire in Women Partnered with Men

"Since the birth of the twins, Denise felt a great sense of loss after leaving her previously rewarding job, James’ work increased in duration to compensate for the shift in income, and Denise’s identity as a mother superseded any sense of herself as a partner or lover.

She lost desire for sex and for James completely and perceived his requests for sex as intrusive; they were yet another demand placed upon her following a full day of devoting herself to her two demanding children who slept no longer than 4-h intervals through the night, even now at 22 months old.

James withdrew from childcare and household chores and activities, in part due to exhaustion following his 14-h work days and in part to “punish” Denise for withholding sex from him.

She resented him for expecting that she would be the sole caretaker for their children, and lost attraction for him as he increasingly retreated to online gaming late at night after the twins were asleep.

(…)

And yet, as they went to leave the end of their first session with the therapist, James turned to the provider and asked, point-blank, whether she thought that “the female Viagra” could help solve their woes.

This case study is one example of the issues plaguing perceptions of low sexual desire in women partnered with men.

That is, while James and Denise’s situation seems an obvious example of contextually-determined low desire, James ascribed the problem to a biological dysfunction in Denise’s body.

The idea that low desire rests in the individual reflects an essentialist view of sexuality that has been advanced by the medical field for decades and cogently critiqued. As such, James’ reaction is not particularly surprising or uncommon.

(…)

But why have essentialist, medicalized views of sexuality come to monopolize how people understand low sexual desire?

One argument is neoliberal—that locating the problem of low desire in individuals’ bodies has high financial stakes.

Naming low desire as an individualized biological dysfunction creates a demand for biological (i.e., medical) solutions; thus, pharmaceutical companies stand to gain by selling a “treatment.”

(…)

It reflects what has become a suspiciously common pattern in women’s relationships with men more broadly, where a woman’s sexual desire disappears and/or becomes “too low” and then is deemed a dysfunction within the woman.

This pattern is suspicious because the numbers of women reporting low desire are so high that they might be modal, if not ordinary; and, they are certainly too high to reflect individual pathologies within individual women’s bodies.

It is also suspicious because many women who report low sexual desire describe considerably similar interpersonal problems with their men partners.

Thus, while low desire is likely not an individual problem within Denise’ body, the issues and inequities it results from are also likely not an individual problem within James or the interpersonal dynamics of James’ and Denise’s specific relationship.

Instead, we turn to a structural level explanation: gender norms, following other foundational work.

(…)

Desire is often situated as low because of its relative status to a partner’s level of desire.

Interestingly, however, this is not a gender-neutral process and the bound is often set with the man partner as reference point.

Accordingly, when a woman experiences lower desire than a man partner, her desire is often labeled low.

In the converse situation, however, men are still the referent: in the case of a man reporting lower desire than a woman partner, the woman’s desire is labeled too high (e.g., they are labeled insatiable or “sluts” in negative ways), rather than the man’s desire being labeled too low.

This highlights the gendered subjectivity inherent to conceptualizations of low desire, where low desire is most often seen as residing not just in bodies, but in women’s bodies relative to men’s desires.

(…)

In Prediction 2.1, heteronormativity’s inequitable casting of women into a caregiver-mother role to men partners contributes to the women’s lower desire.

While heteronormativity slots women into nurturant caregiving roles in general, this caregiving is also directed at men partners specifically.

Nurturance—warm, loving, and caring treatment—is a critical aspect of long-term and/or successful relationships, but one inequitably shared between women and men in relationships with each other.

Heteronormative asymmetries in caregiving can matter not only because they are inequitable, but because they translate into dependencies that contravene contemporary norms of relational interdependence.

Interdependent relationships involve a mutual ethic of care, with partners supporting each other simultaneously or sequentially, akin to a something like a mix of equals, friends, and sexual partners.

The gender inequities inherent to heteronormative framings of complementarity violate norms of relational interdependence, transforming expectations of a partner–partner relationship into something closer to one that is caregiver-dependent or mother–child.

Women end up doing many of the same things for their men partners as mothers do for their children, e.g., reminding them of chores, organizing social events (or playdates), buying clothes, ensuring there is food for snacks and meals and that these are made available.

Additionally, women often take on tasks for their husbands or other men partners that were originally performed by the men’s mothers, perhaps an implicitly-held leftover from more historical understandings of marriage.

(…)

In Prediction 3.1, the heteronormative push for women to focus on their appearance, especially during and in reference to sexual activity, contributes to their low desire.

Heteronormativity focuses on women’s sexual appearance over their pleasure, socializing women to be sexy rather than sexual.

It positions women as sexual objects for men partners, and women’s bodies as offerings gifted to men for sex as part of a relationship contract.

This can result in sexual objectification.

The internalization of this objectification—sexual self-objectification—means that women’s desire is often contingent upon whether they think they are desirable.

(…)

Penetrative intercourse is painted as the only version of “real sex” within heteronormativity, but women have a low likelihood of experiencing orgasm (a highly pleasurable experience) with penetrative intercourse.

Heteronormativity means that, though women may want to be sexual, even with men partners, they are often taught that they can’t be in the ways that are more likely to feel pleasurable for them.

This ongoing separation between experiences of desire and sexual pleasure may dampen desire because it is not reinforced or followed up by sexual activity that actually leads to sexual pleasure.

In Prediction 4.3, seeing sex as a duty to perform with men will contribute to lower desire in women.

Some women have sex they want, and some women have sex that their men partners want and that the women are open to.

But a number of women (and almost no men) have reported in a nationally representative survey that they engaged with sex because it was part of their job, a duty or obligation of being married, which is a heteronormative hallmark.

“Duty sex” is not very sexy, and people—including men—report losing sexual interest in this situation, as occurred in our case study above.

(…)

Moreover, that low desire is seen as a medical and health issue could make for a circular association between it and chronic stress.

Women come to know their desire as “too low” and report feeling like failures as women and partners, making for an iatrogenic source of chronic stress.

Locating the “problem” of low desire in women’s bodies and minds ultimately places the responsibility for it on women, arguably a form of gaslighting when the problem exists outside women and will not be fixed with individual effort.

This can exacerbate women’s stress, by placing yet another responsibility on their shoulders but one that is impossible: to fix their desire problem by fixing themselves, when they are not the problem."

[littleoddwriter]

Special Little Lamb | Cooper Abbott x GenderNeutral!Reader | Dark Fic

Hey there! This fic is inspired by this textpost and @hibiskooks' tags, which led to further thoughts on my part and then the urge to turn them into a whole short story (hence why I linked my own reblog on my horror sideblog because it shows both our tags and the thought process). Understandably, it's a dark fic, albeit romantic this time, unlike my previous Cooper fic, hjdkhsjk! I hope you'll enjoy it! summary; You were once a captive of the Butcher, but as it so happened, you formed a deep connection with him and are now helping him with his victims. One of them tries to get through to you to help them out of the basement, but hadn't realised your status as the Butcher's favourite. You have a tattoo to prove it, though, and so does he. notes/warnings; Gender Neutral!Reader; Dark Fic; Reader used to be a Victim (still is, if you will); Reader most definitely has Stockholm Syndrome and is Morally Grey/Dark; Implied/Mentioned Murders; Active Captivity of a Female Victim; Abuser/Victim Relationship (if we're being realistic); Ableist Language (once); Partner Tattoos; Hints at Sexual Acitivity, but nothing Explicit whatsoever; Kissing.

With practised ease, you opened the several locks, and then the door they were a part of, down to the basement in the usually vacant house in a small neighbourhood on the outskirts of Philadelphia. The door opened with a loud squeak. You made a mental note to remind Cooper to oil the hinges, again. 

As if on cue, you could hear chains being dragged across the concrete floor and frantic rattling of metal against metal. 

Carefully, you went downstairs to the basement, where a woman in her thirties was held captive. She sat on the ground in the middle of the room, and the chains of her cuffs were attached to the far wall. 

“I’m a little late today, I know. Sorry,” you told her gently, shooting her an apologetic smile. 

For a long moment, she just looked at you, while you were walking over to her and then crouching across from her. And just like you did the previous times you visited her, you retrieved a protein bar and a small bottle of water from a bag, handing each item to her. 

The woman, Anna, ripped them out of your hands, scooting further away from you when she did, like a small, wild and scared animal. It was almost amusing to you. There was no reason for her to be scared of you, after all.

In silence, you watched her devour the protein bar and down the water in one go. You really had been late that day. 

Once she was done, you stood back up, picked up the trash and put it back into your bag. Cooper didn’t like to leave it there in the basement, and so you didn’t either. 

You were about to start your way upstairs again when the woman called out to you, “Wait!”

Turning around to face her, you made a small noise, indicating that you were listening.

“You don’t have to do any of this… please… just let me go. You could just unlock the cuffs and leave the door open. He doesn’t have to know! Please!” she pleaded with you, tears in her eyes and desperation clear in her voice, “I won’t tell anyone, okay? I promise. I won’t tell anyone that you’re involved.” 

This was the fifth time she begged you to let her go. She was more persistent than most of the others ever had been. Or maybe she’d just been there long enough to come up to five separate occasions of pleading for her life to be spared. 

Sighing softly, you shook your head, “No. I can’t do that, I’m sorry.” You crouched down across from Anna once more, making eye contact with her. Then, you pointed to the far edge of the ceiling above and behind you, looking back at her. “He has a camera here. He’d know if I helped you. And even if he wouldn’t… I’m not ruining this for him.”

Sometimes, Cooper liked to take his time with them. This having been one of them. Although, you knew that a lot of it had to do with his work. He had to do extra shifts and stay on call these past two weeks because they were short staffed at the firehouse, due to injuries that affected half of the regular team and rendered them unable to work for a while. 

It was only a matter of time until Cooper had the chance to commit several hours to this woman in front of you. But for the time being, you had to keep paying her visits to bring her snacks and drinks, and let her use the toilet in the back of the basement, just so she’d stay alive long enough. 

To keep them for more than a week was risky, though.

“Why are you doing this?” Anna asked you after a beat, changing tactics apparently, because this question was new. “I recognise you. I saw you on the news a few years ago. You went missing, too.”

Frowning, you let out a deep exhale, “I know what you’re trying to do. It’s not gonna work, so stop it.”

“What did he do to you? Is he forcing you?” she pressed anyway, unsurprisingly ignoring what you said.

Groaning softly in annoyance, you got up, stretching your back. You looked down at her, seeing nothing but a desperate woman, who was grasping at straws to ensure safety. Unfortunately for Anna, her pleas would only be ignored, since you had no interest in helping her.

“He’s not forcing me. I chose to stay and help,” you told her, then. 

For you, this was the end of this conversation, but Anna clearly wasn’t ready to let it stay that way, reaching out to you and gripping your wrists tightly, her chains clanking loudly. At the suddenness of all this, you flinched, trying to shake her off of you. 

“Let go of me!” you hissed at her.

“No! Listen to me,” she urged you, her grasp unexpectedly strong, “I don’t believe you. He must have convinced you that this is what you wanted, told you things, threatened you. Why would you ever willingly stay with a monster like him?”

“He’s not a monster!” you interrupted her, raising your voice at her.

Anna wasn’t deterred by it, though, “He kills people! Keeps them in this crappy basement until he’s done with them. He’s a monster. People don’t do that. And you know that he’ll get to you at some point, too.

“Do you really think that he’ll spare you forever? You might be useful to him now, but there’ll be a point where you make a mistake or he just gets bored of you. And I mean, why wouldn’t he? You’re nothing to him! He’ll find somebody else, somebody less damaged than you. And when he does, he’ll discard you, like you never meant anything. Because you don’t. Not to him.

“But if you help me out of here, we can go together. And we’ll get help, okay? He won’t hurt you anymore. You’ll be free, we both will,” she finished her little speech, breathing heavily, frantically, once she was done, and looking up at you with wild eyes, just hoping to get through to you.

There was no denying that she’d hit a nerve in you, but not in the way she had hoped.

Your brow twitched as you tried to keep your immediate rage at bay. 

Instead, you composed yourself with a couple of deep breaths, feeling Anna let go of your arms when she seemed to think that she was starting to achieve her goal with you. 

With a flourish, you pulled the long sleeve of your jacket up, exposing your inner left wrist to Anna’s questioning eyes, which widened almost instantly when she saw the tattoo on your skin. It was a black thin lined tattoo of a meat cleaver in front of a background that appeared almost ethereal, despite how minimalistic it was. But she quickly connected the dots. Cooper had a tattoo just like it, only that instead of a meat cleaver, it was a lamb at the centre. 

“I’m his favourite, you know? We got these tattoos about a year ago. He told me that he wanted something to represent me on his skin, as well, when I begged him to let me get a tattoo that would remind me of him. I didn’t ask him to get one, or make any sort of suggestion to wanting that. But he did it anyway. Because he wanted that reminder of me,” you explained the tattoos to Anna, who just looked at you in disbelief. 

With a pleased smile on your lips, you slid the sleeve back down to cover your arm again. 

“‘The Butcher’s little Lamb’ is what he told me when we got home after the tattoo appointment,” you told her softly with a wistful smile as you reminisced, “He let me go. But I stayed. I begged him to let me be useful to him. And he did, because I’m special to him.”

“You’re crazy,” Anna spat out in disgust at what she was hearing.

“And you’re nothing. To him, or me. Or anyone,” you retorted easily, “You see, in a few weeks, you’ll be nothing but a faint memory. And in a few months, you’ll be nothing but another number. And for me, you’ll be nothing but that beautiful bracelet you wore when he abducted you.”

This time, Anna had nothing more to say, it seemed, as she slumped back in defeat. You took the chance to finally pick your bag up again and go back upstairs, locking the door behind you to the sound of faint cries.

When you arrived at yours and Cooper’s house, you already saw his car in the driveway, making you feel excited to see him again. It was tough for you to be apart from him while he was working. 

Inside, you came to a sudden halt, though, seeing Cooper lean against the doorway to the foyer of your house, idly playing with his phone in his hands. You didn’t expect him to wait there for you, but instantly relaxed when you saw that he was smiling at you. It was one of his gentle smiles that always melted your heart, just like it did now.

“Hey, little Lamb,” he greeted you softly.

Feeling your heart flutter, your face brightened as you beamed at Cooper, walking over to him, as he pocketed his phone and loosely wrapped his arms around your waist, looking at you with a pleased expression.

“I heard what you were telling poor Anna there,” he whispered, “I thought I’d check on you two when I got home earlier, seeing as you weren’t here when you should have been.”

Averting your gaze in shame, you apologised, “I know, I’m sorry. I was cleaning the house and lost track of time, so I left later than usual. It won’t happen again.”

Cooper clicked his tongue quietly, using his left hand to gently take hold of your jaw and move your head to make you look back up at him. “Hey, it’s all right. I was just worried that something might’ve happened,” he told you soothingly.

There was nothing in the world that could compare to the feeling you got when Cooper showed that you were important to him. 

“You did a good job, you know?” Cooper continued, then, still speaking in a soft, gravelly tone, “She was out of line with all those cruel things she said to you. And trust me, I’ll make her pay for it very soon. I promise. I’m proud of you for handling it the way you did.”

Those words had such an instantaneous effect on you, causing you to feel hot all over, warm and fuzzy inside your chest as your heart seemed to swell with pride. 

“Thank you,” you giggled happily, unable to contain your giddiness. 

Praise such as this wasn’t something you were used to, and Cooper wouldn’t have said it if he hadn’t meant every word. You felt like you were on top of the world.

Cooper’s fingers were still gently wrapped around your jaw, now moving upward, his fingertips grazed your lips and cheeks before his palm settled and cupped your face. His dark eyes met yours. His gaze was soft, yet piercing nonetheless, and it took your breath away, just like it always did. There was no escape from his all-consuming presence. It was dominating your every sense.

Leaning his head further down, Cooper’s lips hovered above yours. “I think you’ve earned yourself a reward,” he whispered, brushing his lips against yours as he spoke.

You couldn’t do anything but make an excited sound in the back of your throat, while your hands were tightly gripping his shirt, where you held onto him on his chest, right below his shoulders. 

Amused, Cooper breathed out a small chuckle before pressing his mouth against yours in a lovingly heated kiss that conveyed just what kind of reward he had in mind for you. You instantly melted into the kiss, reciprocating it as best as you could while your entire body and mind felt like they were on fire. Even after a couple of years of this, it never ceased to amaze and overwhelm you. 

And when you later lay in bed, bodies intertwined and in their most natural states, your finger was lazily and gently tracing the lines of the tattoo on Cooper’s right wrist. The tattoo that was a reminder, a representation of you, for him. You couldn’t suppress the smile when the happiness you associated with that rushed over you.  

“My special little Lamb,” Cooper whispered, watching your dreamy face as you kept tracing along the tattoo, and pressed another kiss to your temple and then your cheek and your lips again. This time, it was a gentle show of affection, which you happily accepted, soaking up every moment of it.

Soon, Anna would realise just how wrong she had been about you and Cooper.

[watermelonlovershigh]

Makeup💄/blurb/

AN: here's a little surprise blurb i've wrote. i hope you like this concept and enjoy reading. keep in mind the harry in this isn't our famous harry so any talks of his sexuality is fake for the story. it's also kinda short but still worth the read. xoxo

This stories contains: talks of breaking gender norms, talks of fluid sexuality, fluff

{ boyfriendrry - soft!harry - any harry era of your choice - au harry }

word count- 791

As Harry watches you do your makeup for a night out, he finally shares his desire to wear makeup too when you gently coax it out of him.

You were sitting at your vanity doing your makeup while your boyfriend Harry sat on the edge of the bed watching you. You were going out to a local club tonight and wanted to dress sexy for the occasion.

When you began to apply some silver glitter over the tops of your pink eyelids, you notice Harry shifting closer to you, as if he's really studying how you apply your products. You've noticed a few times now that when you're doing your makeup around Harry, he always watches you closely and you find it quite adorable.

But this time, as you glance to the side and look at your boyfriend, he seems nervous. Fiddling with his ringed fingers and moving his mouth like he's wanting to say something but can't find the words.

"Is something wrong, H?" you question carefully.

Harry hesitates before stuttering, "Um, it's just, um. Nevermind actually."

You stop doing your makeup completely so he has your undivided attention and take a wild guess as to what he's wanting to say, or more so, ask. "Harry, by any chance did you want me to put some makeup on you? Because if you did want to wear some, that's fine."

Relief washes over him when you guess correctly. For a while now Harry's had this want to try out and wear some makeup. Not everyday or just anywhere. But to the club or a party, he would fancy a little color and sparkle to his face. He's just been afraid to ask because he was scared you'd judge him.

Nodding his head, Harry replies, "Yes please."

His answer has a soft smile take over your face. You stand up from your vanity chair and walk over until you're stood in front of Harry's legs. "Baby, why didn't you tell me you wanted to wear some makeup? I wouldn't have cared. I think you'd look fantastic with a bit of shimmer on your eyes and rouge on your cheeks."

Looking up, Harry answers sadly, "It's just, I thought you'd judge me. I know anyone can wear makeup and it's not just for girls but, I didn't know if you thought that way. I only fancy wearin' some when we go out on the towns. Not everyday or anythin'."

"That's fine, Harry," you began, "I'd never judge you for wanting to wear makeup sometimes. And you're right, makeup is not just for the girls and the gays. Anyone can wear makeup if they want, okay."

Giggling, Harry says back, "Okay, but I am a little gay aren't I...."

You can't help but giggle back at his words. What he means is that his sexuality is fluid and he told you early on in your relationship that he wasn't straight. Harry was equally as nervous to disclose his sexaulity to you as he was minutes ago, admitting he would like to wear some makeup. But you knew him wanting to wear makeup had nothing to do with his sexuality. Unlike what stereotypes have you believe.

"Alright, go sit on my vanity chair and pick out what color of eyeshadow you want to wear. And pick out a glitter if you want a touch of that as well." Harry listens to your instructions and picks out the colors and shimmers he'd enjoy wearing tonight.

He chose a bright blue for his lids because he said it would pair well with his outfit. Then requested just a small dusting of your silver glitter to complement the blue shadow. You stood in front of Harry and he relaxed as you took your brushes and did your magic.

To pull this look together, you add a little mascara and some coal liner in his waterline. Then apply a clear lip gloss over his perfectly shaped lips. Harry struggled a bit when you applied the mascara, saying it felt like you were poking his eye out. And when you were finished, he kept blinking, not quit use to having eye makeup on.

"Okay, all done." you announce with a clap. "Did you want anything on your face like foundation or concealer or just this for now?"

Harry studies his face in the mirror ahead and decides, "This is all f'now. Wow, do I look stunnin'. Thank you, m'love. And thank you for not judgin' me."

Looking down at his face slightly, you reply, "Of course, H. I'd never judge you. You can wear all the makeup you want. Or if you ever fancy wearing a dress or heels, I'd never judge you for that either."

Smiling, Harry responds, "Only time I've ever had the desire to wear a dress and heels is maybe for a Halloween costume. But if that changes, I'll let you know."

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @hsfanficsrecss // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @itfeelslikemytherapisthatesme // @damnasstyles  // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet  // @meetmyblondemuffins  // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles  // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles  // @skyangel57   // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss  // @kissmyaxe140  // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore97 // @florencepughily  // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom  // @swiftmendeshoran

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______________

My Masterlist Masterpost

[faded-if]

DEMO (TBA)

Have you ever had everything you thought you wanted? Everything you could ever dream of just within your grasp? Only to find out it was all built on quicksand?

You were the lead singer in the most popular band to grace the music industry in over a decade-- breaking records, amassing fame and fortune, and launching your career into a height you never believed possible. Everything was going great, better than you could ever hope to imagine, until it wasn't. Until everything started to fall apart. The dreams you had thought you wanted, the life you thought you'd be able to build, began to crumble around you.

So, you did the only thing you thought you could do, you ran. Left the band that you had created within a garage back in high school, and the people that had been with you through it all, behind. Never thought you'd go back, that you'd simply fade into obscurity, but the past has a way of catching up with you. Even after five years of being away, you'll always find your way back home.

Just like you find yourself back in the world you thought you'd left behind for the Legacy Tour-- an event that could right all of the wrongs you had caused.

Will you be able to save what's left of your career, your relationships, and your passion for music? Or will it all simply fade away once more?

Faded is rated 18+ for explicit language, sexual themes, drug/alcohol use, potential violence, morally questionable behavior, and more!

✯ FEATURES ✯

Customizable MC: name, nickname, appearance, gender, hobbies, facets of your personality, various vices, public image, and more!

Delve back into the world of the music industry! Will your MC enjoy being back or secretly long for the simplicity that they have carved out for themself?

Create your own music! Will you share it during the Legacy Tour? Wherein millions could finally hear the true story behind why you departed so swiftly?

Engage in romance with a variety of characters! Some may cause more gossip than others, and be notable for the tabloids, but it's all in the name of love!

Interact with fans, new and old, and discover what they think of your departure. Will you be able to win some of them back?

✯ THE ROs ✯

Hudson Lock ✯ He/Him, 26 ✯ A fan that still remembers when you had met years before; citing that you're the reason he has pursued his passion for photography. His passion, as well as his fervent drive to do better, is something to be commended-- especially when it's focused in the manner it seems to be during the Legacy Tour.

"You've been someone I've looked up to for so long, I hope that I can be someone you can rely on when it counts too."

Noah/Nora Fox ✯ He/Him or She/Her, 28 ✯ Your oldest friend and the person that had helped create the band with you-- the only person that had believed in you during the earlier days. The very same person that can barely look you in the eyes, and has shifted from a happy ray of sunshine to the classic partier that sleeps around. Will you be able to fix what's been broken?

Special Romance: Choose to have simply been best friends with them or have been in a relationship prior to you leaving.

"I hate how much I love you sometimes, I hate that it's still your face that I want to see first thing in the morning and the last thing I see at night. I fucking hate that you destroyed me, yet you still hold all the shattered pieces."

Angelina Thorne ✯ She/Her, 28 ✯ The woman that has taken over for you within the band. With an attitude as fiery as her hair, Angelina isn't one to back down from a challenge, especially if she feels threatened. It'll take a while to break down her walls, but she may just be worth the effort.

"I don't know what bugs me more. The fact that you're here or the fact that I can't fucking stand it when you're not."

Elijah/Elizabeth Knight ✯ He/Him or She/Her, 34 ✯ Your old manager hasn't changed in the slightest; barring that they're no longer married. You don't know how you feel about the news, nor do you wish to comprehend what it could potentially mean, but you do know that nothing would ever happen as long as they kept you at arm's length.

Special Romance: Choose to have had a crush on them, but nothing ever happened because they were married.

"You are, and will always be, my only exception."

Jaime Winters ✯ They/Them, 28 ✯ One of the few people you've let close to you within your new "normal" life. They're not the most talkative person, which you can appreciate, but they always make sure you know that they're listening, and they can brighten any room with a signature smile of theirs. Plus, when they do get comfortable their teasing quips and sly remarks can lighten the mood if needed.

"You're still you. You'll never be anyone else to me. I don't care how famous you are."

Harry/Harley Sharpe ✯ He/Him or She/Her, 29 ✯ A security officer that's been placed to protect you, and the band as a whole, during the duration of the Legacy Tour. They seem to be overall a gentle individual, surprising given their career choice, but their drive to protect and serve creates quite an intimidating presence for anyone wishing to cause you harm. Will you be able to resist their gentle eyes and understanding nature?

"I don't know why this happened, or if it's smart that it's continuing to happen, but I can't stop. I don't know if I'd even want to if I could."

[eatmangoesnekkid]

Lovemaking/Fucking as a Regenerative Practice for Women and Other Female Bodied People to Share With their Beloved of Any Gender:

I truly believe that a slow, thoughtful, openhearted, tuned in lover can just as effective as years of therapy. This is probably one of my top 3 favorite sexual arts to channel and translate about. And I know that the uninitiated read the word "fucking" and may tense up and think derogatory things. But real "fucking" is not careless or thoughtless. It is built-up or ongoing non-mechanistic primal desire--the hot, wet, sticky, dripping, stealthy, lusty, passionate heat and hunger that more easier accessed in new relationships but can nurtured or revived in long-term ones. It is our cells and tissues way of craving depth--before thought. It is actually quite divine and prayerful to be able to access this state when your mind is empty and heart is open towards your lover. Begin threading your life with more slow relaxing energy. Have a love affair with mindfulness and distill more presence in your life, like through a meditation practice, chanting, or listening to soulful music like gospel music as a passionate, holy, primal frequency that instinctively calibrates you into deep feeling. Embarking on the journey to living a slower life will greatly support you in your unrepressed lovemaking and healing arts in the future. You may find yourself naturally divesting from distractions like celebrity culture without much effort.

As you start to get familiar with and play in different colors and intensities of this regenerative practice, be sure to open your mouth, open your back throat, which opens your cervix, your metaphysical heart, and streams down even more heavenly love energy into your hands and body. Love is the healing energy, you see and when you begin to embody more love, your hands and body become portals to healing/regeneration. A lover being connected to or inside your body regenerates them over and over again, in different ways. To be a Love Goddess or Sex Priestess, means that you have generous access to your innate healing energy to shift an experience. In the female form, this is your creamy lubrication that's not just confined to your pussy, but also in your throat, ass, hands, underarms, areolas, nipples, heart, I mean- your whole body and its abundance of pheromones become oceanic.

A woman's body arcs open wide as pure water quenching every cellular thirst.

When making love/fucking, you want to also simultaneously transfer or transmute some of your arousal, desire, and heat towards the stagnant inflamed parts of your lover. Let's say your beloved lover has stagnant eyes or chronic migraines. As you climb onto or straddle your lover's lap, as you sit your ass on lover's thighs, and invite this person to suck your breasts (not that you say words, but feel the desire and intention), you then transfer that heightened arch-back energy into your lover's face by lovingly massaging and kissing and speaking life into their eyes or scalp out loud (your voice/ranges of sound is also regenerative), stimulating their energy to flow which is what creates their new body narratives. Also you don't just work where the pain site or stagnation issue is location. Also work on the extremities of your Beloved like their feet, hands, calves, etc.

Basically you are finding ways to touch and speak life into their entire body depending upon what position your body is arcing open inside of. Sitting on their face? Lovely--also massage and knead their calves while sitting to bring heat, warmth, lymph and blood flow happiness into lower extremities. For people who have body challenges, the extremities are usually more tight and cold which support eye and migraine issues and the like. You do this while being touched/sucked on (be sure to grasp/massage the nape of the neck too for greater energy unlocking) and it's this beautiful dance and transference of energy that orbits and volleys back and forth between you and your lover. It’s how you can help drain the depressive energy stored in lover’s body over the years as well. This is an advanced practice.

If you are truly connected to divine feminine, you never have to be afraid, particularly if a depth of love is present in your relationship connection. None of us will ever be all “healed” or unblemished in this 3D reality —it’s impossible and we can still share our bodies with our imperfect lovers who may be having a hard time or going through some shit for very long time and actually be of service to them. After any kind of lovemaking/fucking, be sure to go outside on grass or sand or in water on the same or next day and shake your body vigorously while barefoot and lightly clothed. When we make love or fuck, our bodies are used as portals to give, receive, exchange or extract energy. Sex is the deepest energy work, the nastier and more unrestrictive and un-egoic, the better the medicine.

You can do this same act for knee pain and anything else. As you kiss and grip your lover's body (while taking caution and care around the pain spot), you send that arousal, love, care, and desire energy, maybe you even see or feel golden, violent, or green healing and send it into the knee and the surrounding areas. You speak love into the knee and the surrounding areas, almost like you are wanting to penetrate or be penetrated by it. Penetrative (giving/receiving) energy when love is present is deeply healing for all bodies. There is so many layers and viscosities that we get to play in when it comes to healing and regeneration, where lovemaking becomes artful and a much needed 'hands on, hands inside' skillset.

When you become sensitive to energy, and aware of what it means to have a female body in your every day life, you can place your hand on lover's spine and bring an immediate shift in their reality. You can do the same thing for your child or father. You are not trying heal or fix ANYTHING--you are merely allowing your body to be that portal to love/creation it was divinely oriented to be.

But with lovemaking/fucking, that same innocent energy is extraordinarily heightened into larger and more robust erotic energy to be orbited between two lovers with open hearts and undernourished egos. While doctors can be incredibly valuable, there is also something mystical that melts and swells in you that can do what no physician can. It’s incumbent that you lay down what you no longer need to carry and access those deep states that allow you to live your highest potential and help your loved ones do the same. -India Ame'ye, Author