#the fucks ups as they try to be Men vs actually being considerate. they touch on this but not really

[iftari]

long running shows like modern family start to fall apart bc they reduce the 3D-ness of their characters into quick words n change them up as dependent on the plot v understanding the characters and keeping their growth consistent. also bc theyre yt and white comedy shows dont know how to engage in anything beyond surface level humor even when they are to some degree tryign to be political

[honourablejester]

Fantasy, Horror and the Intangible

I’ve been thinking a bit lately about why I like some stripes of horror/fantasy and less others. Actually, I’ve mostly been thinking about how I like dark fantasy, but I like dark fantasy mostly in the sense of ‘fantasy crossed with gothic and/or cosmic horror’ not ‘fantasy but everything is horrible and ultimately soul-crushing’, like I want ghosts and eldritch star gods, not grimdark ‘everyone is a terrible person and morality is meaningless’ bullshit.

Sorry. That was strongly phrased. But. I grew up in the 90s. I’m a little tired of grimdark.

And I think when I look at it a bit, it comes back to a basic … not ‘problem’, maybe, but divide, with a lot of fiction. I think it does probably come back, in a large sense, to the ‘realism’ debate. What I mean is, I’m getting a sense with a lot of fiction that it wants sort of … tangible conflicts? Tangible threats, tangible moralities, tangible consequences. Physically grounded things. There’s a feeling I get that fiction right now doesn’t like a lot of the more … ambiguous or delicate concepts or emotions.

Okay. Pulling back a bit. Here are a few subgenres that I really, really like:

gothic horror

cosmic horror

fairytales

paranormal investigation

There are others, obviously, I like a lot of things (sci-fi, most notably), but these are the ones I’ve been circling lately. Because they have a thread of something in common, and something that’s actually increasingly hard to find: intangibility. Uncertainty. Also: wonder. Awe. Curiosity. Apprehension. Terror. Insanity.

They’re genres that play a lot with non-physical threats and promises, essentially. With emotions to do with things that aren’t here yet, or things that may not be real, or things that are felt but not seen. They have consequences that are often not merely fatal or unfatal. Costs in cosmic horror, gothic horror, fairytales, paranormal stories, and even mystery stories are often more on the abstract end: you lose your sanity, your humanity, your freedom, your believability, your reputation.

They’re stories that famously rely on emotions. On atmosphere. On dread, enchantment, curiosity. People don’t usually have powers, they have feelings. They sense things that other people can’t sense. They see things that other people can’t see.

There’s magic in all of them. There’s another world layered over the base one, secrets that most people can’t see. There’s wonder. Whimsy. Secrets. Arcane rules. Mysteries.

And then, because that other world often contains monsters, there’s fear. Apprehension. Terror. Dread. Not just that you might die, but that you might in some way lose yourself.

I think another thing I’m skirting around is that they’re genres focused on exploration rather than combat necessarily. Sure, you might slay the werewolf eventually, or shotgun some cultists in the face, but the combat usually isn’t the point. The tragedy of the werewolf is the person who lost their humanity to it. The terror of cosmic horror is that the cosmic entity that spawned said cult is likely fundamentally unbothered by losing it. These are stories with the tangible powers of combat are fundamentally lessened, because the true wonder is exploration and the true terror is something that all the shotguns in the world can’t stop.

I remember leaving a prompt on a comm once, I can’t remember for what, and what I wanted was a low-level ESP-type paranormal story. With psychics sensing things and investigating. What I got was X-men level ‘Professor X fights baddies’. Which is … I feel like a lot of fiction nowadays defaults onto ‘have powers, fight baddies’. Which! There is nothing wrong with! Sometimes I very much want that! But not in that instance. I wanted a lower-key story where people felt things.

(I did thank them anyway, I did enjoy the story, it just … didn’t quite hit what I wanted)

IDK, I just feel like, maybe as a consequence or just co-morbid with the massive rise of things like the superhero genre and the oddly non-conflicting, despite all logic, ‘realism in fantasy’ type debates, a lot of fiction right now is going out of its way to feel a) grounded in physical reality and b) action-oriented. Threats are things you can stab. Horror is man’s general inhumanity to man. Powers are things you can fight with. Your righteousness is shown by who you punch in the face.

I miss the less tangible emotions of fairytales and gothic horror. Those two particularly. The wonder and mystery of magic, the terror and apprehension of the unseen. Where you’re guided by exploration, by feeling, by sensing things. Where the threat is not necessarily to life-and-limb, but to the soul, the humanity, the sanity. Where righteousness is resisting your own corruption, not punishing someone else’s.

(Sidenote here on Dracula: I feel there’s a thing here with Mina Harker vs Lucy Westenra a bit, in that Lucy was unmarried when she died, and fell to corruption, while Mina, the relatively ‘sinful’ woman who had a husband and presumably had relations with him, began to be transformed but spent the whole latter half of the book staunchly resisting it and standing beside Van Helsing – granted, though, there are practical considerations in that no one knew what the fuck was going on with Lucy so they just didn’t know enough to save her in time, while with Mina everyone, including her, knew what was up and what she has to fight – anyway, sidenote ended)

I just want more stories with the more delicate and intangible sorts of feelings, I guess. Wonder. Particularly wonder. Seeing things that are not necessarily useable but still magical. And apprehension. Terror. On the darker end of things. Not just fear for your life or cynicism or despair, but the creeping fear and atmosphere you get when you don’t know what’s happening. Where there are unseen things happening, and you’re worried not for your life but for your sanity and possibly for your humanity. Where you fear not being killed but being changed. (Or, on the flipside, where you hope to be changed, transformed, become the fairy princess you secretly want to be)

I grew up on the likes of The Last Unicorn. The Neverending Story. Dracula. Ghost stories. Fairy stories. Stories where you can just feel something else beyond the bounds of what you know. Where the price of love is regret, where the price of power is humanity, where the cost of evil is haunting and insanity. I grew up into mystery, into cosmic horror, into fantasy. I like the intangible. I like the feeling of things out there that I can feel but not know. I like thrill of fear from a good haunted atmosphere, from the knowledge of threats that I can’t actually touch. I like the vast feeling of cosmic horror, of things out there that are just too big to comprehend, let alone fight. Not because I like despair (I very much do not), but because I like the feeling of exploration, that there is more in the world than we can understand (yet) and that we might still be willing to take the risk to try. (Usually in cosmic horror this results in gibbering, but hey, at least we’re still trying)

I like stories where the solutions are also equally intangible. You learn enough about the ghost to lay them to rest. You investigate the cult and find out how the seal the cosmic gate. You win through exploration, through engagement with the emotions, not always through physical force, even if that does also have its place with, say, staking the vampire through the heart. Stories where victory is resisting corruption, absolving old sins, discovering new worlds, rebuilding new worlds through just your wishes and dreams and willingness to hope (hi, Neverending Story, how are you!)

Also, I love the aesthetic. The atmosphere. The feeling. Wonder and intrigue and apprehension and curiosity. Imagery. The spooky castle on the cliff, the faun leading you down into a world of wonders. The joy of magic, the terror of the unknown.

I don’t know what my point even is here, I’ll be honest. I just want more feelings and less punching, I guess. More engagement, more exploration, more mystery. Less ‘sort out the rules and punch the villain in the face’. Less grimdark, more wonder and terror. More magic. More unknown.

More acknowledgement that … You don’t need to be able to fight everything you come across. Sometimes you just need to experience it.

And survive it, yes, hopefully. But you get what I mean.

Embrace the intangible some more. Ambiguity and intangibility are not crimes. You don’t always need to give the answers, you don’t have to ground everything in a punchable reality, you just need to give people a feeling. An experience. An emotion.

And not even necessarily a good one, though I will say again that grimdark is a bit tired, I feel, probably, go a bit easy on the crushing despair maybe? But that aside.

Magic good. Terror good. Go explore.

(I am aware that there are current examples of all of these, by the by, thank you Guillermo del Toro for always leaning into the spooky and delicate, and I’m happy to take recs. I’m mostly just talking about a general feeling I’m getting about the state of the genre fiction at the minute)

[stormtrprinstilettos]

“Move those hips like I know you can.” - Roger x fem!reader (smut)

Summary: It’s 1983 and Queen is recording their next album at the studio where you work, and things get a little heated between you and the drummer.

Word count: ~4.6K

Warnings: smut, age gap (21 vs. 35), smut, language, and smut. 18+ please and thank you

[A/N: I have no idea where this came from, but it happened. This is supposed to be a one shot, but if people want more, I can always keep the adventure going!]

You were stuck in an endless cycle of monotony. The same morning routine, the same route to work that seemed almost robotic (you didn’t even have to check the bus numbers anymore), same methodical system at your job, same route back home, and the same routine after getting back to your apartment. Change your clothes and laze around until bedtime. You had fallen into a monotonous routine on the weekends, too, since meeting a guy a couple of months ago. You’d wait for Alan to call, usually around 7:00 on Friday night, about an hour after you got home from work, and you’d meet him at the same bar, order the same drinks, stay for exactly two hours and fifteen minutes, then head back to your place. The only times things would change would be if you decided to have sex, and that was even monotonous.

This morning, though, was going to be the start of something different, or so you told yourself. Jack, one of the sound engineers at the studio where you worked as a glorified secretary, as you called yourself, agreed to let you sit in on a recording session today. Of course, he agreed before, but the artists who were recording on those days always seemed leery of letting you sit in. You weren’t sure why – it’s not like you were going to touch anything – but it always ended up happening where you’d be told “maybe next time.” The most you were ever allowed in was when you were delivering food or drinks or whatever other stupid things these prima donnas wanted.

Today, if this band said they didn’t want you there, you were going to put up an argument. Okay, so you were going to beg and promise not to do anything stupid. At least you were going to try not to do anything stupid. Jack was a little nervous about inviting you in – this was your favorite band, and he saw how nervous you’d get around people you weren’t even fans of, so he didn’t even want to imagine any possible catastrophe that could have happened if you became a bumbling idiot. “Come on, Jack,” you pleaded as you were literally on your knees begging. “I’ll probably be too scared to even say anything, let alone move. I’ll sit in the corner. I promise.”

Of course, as your luck would have it, the four members of your favorite band (and their manager) walked in as you were on your knees, begging and pleading and making promises you knew you never had any intention of fulfilling. In fact, the first time they saw you was when you were standing up from behind your desk as he was chuckling. Not exactly the first impression you wanted to give.

“Do you mind if she sits in with us today?” Jack asked them as you were standing up. “She won’t break anything.” You were too mortified to turn around, and they were too shocked to say anything. You wanted to cry and run away, but that would have made you look even worse. Jack started to howl with laughter. “This is not what it looks like.” You heard five men behind you all start to laugh, and you slowly turn around. “She was just being dramatic.”

“It may be nice to have new ears,” Freddie says with a chuckle. “What’s your name, darling?”

You were trying desperately not to bumble, instead forcing yourself to exude confidence and smile. “I’m Y/N,” you say as you hold out a hand to shake. “I, uh…” You want to die, right there in front of everyone, as your nerves start to take over.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” Freddie says with a smile. “These are the others,” he waves his hand in their direction. “And I’m sure they won’t mind having you sit in with us either.” He turns to them. “Right?” They all smile and let you know that they don’t mind as they start to file in.

You quickly turn to Jack after they are out of your line of vision and slap him on the shoulder. “What the fuck, Jack? You could have told me they were walking in!” You’re still feeling absolutely mortified and want to cry. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was?”

“No, I don’t, but it was funny as hell,” he says though his hard laughter. “Come on. Let’s go in.”

Your nerves started to subside after that first day when all you did was sit there in a daze. Sure, they just oozed rock star vibes, naturally, but once your brain fully comprehended the fact that you were indeed not dreaming and that you were really sitting in listening to and watching Queen make their music, you felt much calmer. And they did everything they could to make you feel at ease. John was the one who would make you giggle constantly with bad jokes. Brian was somewhat reserved, soft spoken, but he did chat you up with interesting conversation after finding out you were learning how to play guitar. Freddie made you feel like your presence was appreciated, always calling you in to ask your opinion on things, which he and the others did take into consideration. Then there was Roger, who was exactly how you imagined him to be when you’d fantasize about meeting them – a funny, eternal flirt. Not that you minded one bit. You were used to men flirting with you, and this was Roger fucking Taylor, the epitome of your teenage rockstar fantasy – like you were going to have a problem with him flirting with you. Much to your surprise, you had no problem dishing it back to him.

“Don’t you have better things you want to be doing right now?” he asks you that first Friday night they were recording. “I’m sure a pretty thing like you has someone else to be spending a Friday night with besides us two blokes,” he chuffed as he pointed behind the glass to John.

You shrug. “I’m quite enjoying myself right now,” you smile. “I find all of this interesting.” Your smile faded into a smirk. “Company’s good, too.”

“Yeah,” he smirks back. “I’ve no complaints.” The two of you were snapped out of your mutual flirting session by John, who was beckoning Roger for some help.

Jack wheels his chair back to where you are sitting and raises an eyebrow, and you raise one back. “You know his reputation,” he mumbles quietly. You roll your eyes, smirk and say nothing. He starts to laugh loudly. “I forgot who I’m talking to. You chew them up and spit them out with the best of them.”

“Jesus Christ, Jack,” you say a bit too loudly as you’re laughing too, catching the attention of Roger and John, who you didn’t realize were within listening range. “Why keep them around if they start to get boring?”

“We’re going to call it a day,” John said as he walked over to where you were, interrupting your conversation. “We’ll be back tomorrow afternoon.” He and Roger walked out after saying their goodbyes, leaving you and Jack to straighten everything out before locking up.

Jack left first, leaving you behind to turn out the lights. When you walked out and locked the door, you heard a voice coming from behind you. “So what does Miss Y/N do around here on a Friday night?” It was Roger, and he startled you a little bit, giving the both of you quite a laugh.

“Usually? I just go down to the bar and have a few drinks. I’m not very adventurous,” you giggle.

“Ah, keep it simple,” he chuffed. “Care for some company?”

Really? you think to yourself. He wants to hang out with me? After getting over the initial shock, you nod your head. “Sure,” you smile. “But I must warn you – I’m quite boring.”

“Nah,” he chuckles and holds out his arm for you to lock yours into. “We’ll have fun I’m sure.”

When you walk into your usual hangout, it seems like all eyes turn to you. You don’t think anything of it – it’s full of all the same regulars as every other night. You exchange pleasantries with a few of them and lead Roger to the back corner after stopping at the bar to get drinks.

“Tell me about yourself,” he says. “Other than work, what do you get up to?”

You roll your eyes, unamused. “This,” you say as you wave your hands around. “Work and this pretty much consumes my time.” You raise your brow. “Told you. I’m quite boring.”

He started to laugh. “You live in Los Angeles. There’s a lot you can get into over here.”

“I hate it here,” you mumble. “I’m only here for this stupid job, and it doesn’t seem like I’m ever going to get where I want to be.” His face turns concerned. “I’m sorry. There’s no need to start my whining,” you chuckle, but he gives you a look that tells you he wants to hear what you have to say. “I took the assistant job at the studio with the understanding that I was going to be shown the actual workings. So far, that hasn’t happened.”

“You seem to be learning things?”

“All I’m doing is watching,” you shrug. “But at least I get to do that.”

“I’ll make sure you get to do more than just watch.” There was a different tone in his voice when he told you that. It went beyond flirtation, and you didn’t know if he was even talking about the studio anymore. You were staring into each other’s eyes and smirking, forgetting that other people were around. He inches his hand closer to yours on top of the table, making sure he grazed just close enough to barely touch you. What the fuck is happening right now? you screamed internally, hoping your face didn’t let on that you were giddy as hell.

Just then, there’s a tap on your shoulder. You turn and see Alan. “I was calling you, but I guess you didn’t answer because you’re already here.” Your head falls into your hands. “Who is this?” he asks as he points to Roger.

You bite your top lip in annoyance and look up to him. “This is Roger and we’re…”

“… on a date,” Roger finishes, smiling at you.

“A date?” Alan yells. “So you’re cheating on me with this old guy?”

“Cheating?” You say with a hearty laugh. Roger leans back and crosses his arms, clearly amused but not saying a word.

Alan is upset. “But… we…”

“We fuck when I want to fuck, Alan. That’s all we do.” You’re looking up at him with sheer annoyance, hoping he walks away while he still has a small amount of dignity left.

“But you told me…” he starts to whine, annoying you even more.

“Oh, come on. I never made you any promises,” you pop back, rolling your eyes.

“You said you enjoy my company, and we…”

“We fuck. That’s it. I’ll say anything as long as the dick is big enough.” You wave him away.

Alan stomps away, feeling humiliated and Roger roars with laughter. “That was brutal, Y/N. Where has this person been hiding? Who knew you had it in you to be vicious?” He leaned over the table and looked at you curiously. “This is probably rude, but how old are you anyway?”

“That’s quite rude,” you chuckle, “and I’m 21.”

People start to recognize him and begin to stare and whisper. “Everyone’s looking at you,” he jokes.

“They’re not looking at me. They see me all the time. Probably wondering what I’m doing here with an old guy,” you giggle. People start to approach him at the table. He takes it in stride at first, but you can tell he’s starting to get a little bit annoyed. “Want to get out of here?” you ask with a whisper.

He nods his head and you get up from the table and head outside. “So where else does Miss Y/N go on a Friday night?” he asks as you start to walk down the street.

“Told you. The bar and home. That’s my fun filled evenings,” you shrugged.

“Let’s go, then.” He smirks as you look up at him. “Seriously. Let’s go. Show me boring. I haven’t had boring since ‘68.”

“Would you like something to drink? Eat?” you ask after walking in your apartment.

“No, thanks.” He walks over to your stereo and starts glancing over your music collection, quite impressed by the organization of it all. “Alphabetical order. Nice,” he chuckles, rubbing his finger starting at letter A and stopping when he gets to the Q. “Ah, I see you’re a fan of those idiots from England,” he laughs. “They’re alright.”

The whole moment is completely surreal to you. This whole week had been, but right now – right this second – was more surreal than anything else that had happened. Roger Taylor, in your living room, looking at your music collection – in your living room. He comes and sits down right next to you on the sofa. “Do you want the TV on?” you ask, quietly as he inches himself as close to you as possible. He smiles and shakes his head no, as he brings a hand up to your hair. You take a deep breath, trying hard to mask your nerves, but you’re not doing a very good job. You just know he can hear your heart beating in your chest.

“Am I making you nervous?” he chuckles. “You don’t have to be nervous.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just…” He takes his hand away from your hair and moves it down your arm, taking hold of your hand. You start to giggle. “This is 16-year-old me’s fantasy right now.” You start to feel your face flush with embarrassment and you look down, unable to control your nervous giggle.

“Well,” he starts with a soft tone in his voice. “21-year-old you gets to live it out.” He lifts your chin, making your eyes meet with his, as he smiles gently. “If she wants to, of course, help 35-year-old me live out his.” He can see the somewhat baffled look come across your face. “What?” he laughs. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed my relentless attempts to be as close to you as I could possibly get.”

“Me?” you ask, laughing. “I’m your fantasy?”

“I’ve been thinking about all the things I want to do to you since I saw you on Monday, Y/N,” he says with a raspy, throaty tone as he smirks mischievously.

“Oh yeah?” you ask, biting your bottom lip, completely forgetting your nerves. “Like what?”

“Should start with a kiss, yeah?” he says as he leans in to you, taking your lips in his, giving you the most tingling sensation you’ve ever felt from anyone before. His lips are soft and soothing, and feel like velvet against yours. You move a hand to the back of his neck, gently rubbing your fingernails against the bottom of his hair, as he moves a hand behind your head, gently rubbing on your scalp. You don’t break the kiss as you move to straddle his lap, making it easier for you to kiss him. You pull back gently to look at him, making sure this is actually happening. He smiles and puts his hands on your hips as you lean back in for more kissing. “I saw you dancing through the window yesterday,” he sneered with a smile. “Move those hips like I know you can.” He starts to nudge your hips back and forth as you smirk at him, and you get the hint to keep moving as he runs his hands up your back, lifting your shirt up in the process. You pull out of the kiss again so he can take your shirt off, staring deep into each other’s eyes, letting each other know exactly how far you want this to go.

You hold his face in your hands as your hips continue to rock and you kiss him deeply, harder than before, as his hands move back onto your hips. “I know you want more than this,” you breathlessly whisper before climbing off him and kneeling down in front of him. “Unless…” your voice trails away as you start to unbutton his pants. “Unless this isn’t part of your fantasy.” You smirk as you continue undoing his pants.

“Oh no,” he chuffs. “You’re doing just fine.” He lets out a tiny gasp as your hand slides into his pants and touches his cock, pulling it out, as he tilts his hips up and starts to pull down his pants with your help. You hold his length in your hand, rubbing up and down, watching it grow with every stroke, a drop of precum releasing from the tip.

“You don’t mind, do you?” you jokingly ask with a grin before placing your tongue on top and slowly licking it away, taking great pleasure in knowing that your tongue caused him to buck his hips closer to you.

“Oh, fuck,” he gasps as your warm mouth wraps around him. You hold on to his hips to steady yourself as you move back and forth along his member as he gently holds a grasp on your hair. “You’re good at this,” he chuckles, causing you to giggle with your mouth full. “Mmm, stop,” he commands you as you lift your head up and make a subtle pop when you take his cock out of your mouth. “Don’t want to waste this,” he chuffed as he leans up to meet you, kissing you before growling in your ear.

You fake a pout. “But I was just getting started,” you say with a fake whine before you start giggling.

“Your turn, baby girl,” he whispers, guiding you to stand up in front of him as he grabs the waist of your pants. “We don’t need these anymore, do we?” He raises an eyebrow and smirks as he starts to pull them down, admiring every single inch of you standing before him. He runs a hand up your thigh and over to your mound, lightly grazing your folds, lightly touching your clit with the tip of his thumb. “Already wet for me, hmm?” he mumbles as you bite your lip and smirk at him. “Good girl.” He reaches behind you and pulls you closer to him, softly kissing your belly button as one hand wanders back to your flower, being ever so gentle as he rubs around, exploring with great concentration. “Not here,” he whispers as he looks up into your gazing eyes. “Show me your bedroom.” He holds you as he pushes you back so he can stand up, kissing you when his mouth reaches yours.

When you walked into your room, you turned to him as you unhooked your bra, letting it fall to the ground on its on fruition. His gaze instantly focused on your breasts before looking back up into your eyes and a breath stuck in his throat. “You, Y/N. You’re fucking beautiful.” He smiles and slowly walks towards you, a slight smirk across his mouth, taking off his shirt, and taking note of the proximity of the bed from where you’re standing.

He grabs your shoulders and pushes you down on the bed, catching you by surprise. “All you had to do was ask,” you say with a laugh. You lean up on your elbows, scoot up further into the bed and look at him, still trying to wrap it around your brain that this was actually happening.

As he crawls closer to you, his smirk grows bigger. “I want to taste you now,” he growls as he parts your legs and starts to kiss your inner thighs. He moves closer, and you can feel his breath at your core, before he parts the lips and continuing his earlier exploration, this time using his tongue. He was clearly experienced, as he took no time before directing his attention to your clit, making sure he spent the perfect amount of time both circling with the tip of his tongue and softly caressing it with his tongue flattened.

You moan and arch your back. “Oh fuck, Roger,” you groan as you grab hold of his hair.

“Mmm,” he chuckles. “Like that, do you?” You can’t answer. Every sound you want to make is locked in your throat. “You taste so fucking good,” he groaned before he started to suck gently on your lips before sucking gently on your clit. He moved the fingers he was using to hold your lips apart down to your entrance, and you let out a loud groan as your thighs began to twitch as he inserted one finger. “That’s right,” he whispered. “Good girl.”

You look down to him and see his eyes looking up at you, and you can feel his smile against you as he continues to work his tongue on your pussy. “Fuck,” you moan with a giggle as your head falls back onto the bed. “You’re good.” You raise yourself up so you can watch him again.

He moved his head back, smile still across his face, and he inserted another finger inside of you. “Cum for me,” he groaned, curling his fingers deep inside of you as he lowers his mouth back down onto your essence.

“Oh, fuck!” you scream out, becoming a complete puddle of ecstasy. He holds his free hand on your stomach, making sure you can’t move away, still thrusting his fingers in and out, never moving his mouth from your clit, riding out your orgasm with you.

When you finally came down from your high, he got up on his knees, his pleased smile not leaving his face as he looked down at your exhausted body while his fingers kept pumping inside of you. “Mmm,” he chuckles as he leans down for a kiss. “Hope you’re not too tired,” he said with a raspy whisper. “I’m not done with you yet.”

“You better not be,” you say, breathless, as you bite your bottom lip. “16-year-old me fantasized about more than that,” you giggle.

“Good,” he grumbles as he kisses your neck, his fingers still moving inside of you. “Because 35-year-old me fantasized about doing more.” He quickly pulled his fingers out and started to rub his cock against your wetness. He knelt up between your legs, raising them and resting your calves on his shoulders before slowly entering you, teasing you first with the head before pushing the shaft all the way in, both of you taking a deep breath at the same time, never taking your eyes off of each other. “So fucking tight,” he grunted as he slowly thrusted his cock in and out.

Your hands run up and down his back, your nails digging in to his skin. He clearly likes that, because every time you grab him with your nails, he starts to thrust faster and faster. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, grunting and trying to control himself as much as he can. “You feel so good inside me,” you loudly whisper in his ear, nibbling at the lobe before pulling back with your teeth still clinched. His thrust gets slower, trying to pace himself to make it last longer. He looks up at you, his face flushed with heat and sweat, and he pulls himself out of you, going back up to his knees. You scoot up and sit, never taking your eyes off of his. “Take me from behind,” you say as you get on your knees as well.

He leans in to you, holding you close, molding your bodies together, and gives you a deep, passionate kiss. “No,” he tells you. “I want to see your face when you cum for me again.” He lays on his back, and you climb on top, slowly lowering yourself onto his shaft. He raises his hands and grabs your breasts, twisting your nipples in between his thumbs and forefingers. “Move those hips like I know you can,” he says with a smile. You start to rock back and forth, grinning wickedly as you bite your bottom lip. “Good girl,” he coos, pinching your nipples even harder, eliciting a small whine from your mouth.

You lean back and hold yourself up with your hands on both sides of his legs as you keep rocking and rolling your hips in a circular motion. “You like that?” you ask as you look down to him, watching his face as he smiles and nods his head as best he can. You grab one of his hands and move it down to your mound, and he takes the hint and starts to softly massage your clit with his thumb. “Mmm, yeah. Like that,” you whisper.

“You’re such a naughty little minx,” he growls as he watches you pleasuring yourself with his dick. He can feel your walls start to clinch and he knows you’re getting close to orgasm. “Cum for me,” he tells you. “Cum all over my cock.”

You sit up, moving your hands up to your breasts. “Make me,” you purr seductively. He grabs your back and pulls you down toward him, kissing you heavily, your tongues wrapping together as you moan in unison. He starts to buck his hips and thrashes into you, forcing himself inside of you as deep as he can go. “Fuck, Roger,” you groan. “Fucking pound me,” you instruct him.

“Dirty girl,” he hisses in your ear. “Such a dirty girl with that tight pussy.” His speed quickens and you know he won’t last much longer. His breathing is getting harder, louder, and he’s about to lose all control. Your walls tighten as he grabs you harder, the sound of you slapping against each other and your mornings fill the room as you push hard against each other. His panting and moaning gets louder, and you scream out his name as your body starts to shake before your muscles contract around him as he cums hard inside of you, filling you with his warm seed, meeting your orgasm at the same time.

You sit up, not moving him out of you and push your hair out of your face, looking down on him with a smile as you let out a giggle. “Yeah, that was much better than what I imagined it would be,” you joke, making him laugh.

He reached up and grabbed your waist, rolling you onto your back as he moved to hover over you before giving you quick pecking kisses on your neck and collarbone as you giggled. “Told you we’d have fun,” he smirked. He laid down on his back next to you and smiled. “Strawberries,” he mumbled as he turned his head to look at you. “You smell like strawberries.” You started to laugh. “I happen to love strawberries.”

Early next afternoon you went into work, happier than usual. It was a Saturday, and you normally wouldn’t be there, but they were planning on recording again, so you wanted to make sure everything was in order when they arrived in an hour. Jack came in a few minutes before they did. “Had a nice night?” he asked, and you started to get flustered, suspicious that he knew what you got into and with whom. “What? You’re radiating. Alan must have done a good job, that’s all,” he said with a laugh. You said nothing, opting to give him a smirk instead. When you looked up, you saw Roger and John walk in, followed by Brian and Freddie. You and Roger immediately locked eyes and shared the same subtle smirk. Jack noticed. “Oh, fuck, Y/N, you didn’t.” He started to laugh and slapped his forehead.

“Shut up, Jack,” you giggled as they walked into the recording room.

Everyone said hello, and Roger walked over to you and leaned in your ear. “I’m still not done with you,” he whispered and winked.

“Good,” you whisper back. “Because I’m not done with you either.”

He smirked as he murmurs in your ear again. “You’ll say anything as long as the dick is big enough.”

“Yeah,” you wryly reply. “I guess it’s a good thing you know what you’re doing then.”

Brian walks over and clears his throat. “You ready to get started, Rog? Or do you need a moment?” He grins at the two of you, completely aware of what went on last night.

“Go home,” Roger quietly tells you. “You’ll need to rest up for later.” You start to say something, but he stops you. “There’s a present on your desk,” he grins and walks away to join everyone else.

When you get to your desk, there’s a box wrapped in pink paper and a lime green bow. You look at it curiously with a quiet laugh before opening it. Inside there’s a t-shirt with a cartoon strawberry on the front. You look up through the window and see Roger watching you with a smile. He winks at you before turning his attention to his work. You shake your head, smiling, and gather up your things and head home. He’s the one who needs to make sure he’s rested up, you giggle to yourself, already getting flushed imagining what you’ll be getting up to tonight.

[part 2 >>]

[southern-belle-outcasts]

🎖- What is it that attracted you to your muse? & ⚓️ - What fatal error means you will instantly drop a thread?

@mynameisanakin

//I have...multiple muses. Sooooo, get comfy.

Obviously (not so obviously?), my brain children didn’t have anything in particular drawing me to them. They were just born, and they’re constantly revealing new shit as I write more, and pulling slick ones on me. I cannot be held responsible for anything these assholes do. They’re doing their own thing and I’m just along for the ride. Nilza is 9-10 years old (depending if you want to count the year I dabbled with her on goodreads before tumblr) and I’m still learning new shit. Farrar is months old and I’m high key still pulling out information from him. I don’t make the rules. They do.

I got drawn into Rogue, brace yourselves you new peeps that are comic snobs, via Wolverine and the X-Men tv show on being on Netflix at the time. Yes. I got into Rogue off a cartoon that wasn’t the original tv show OR the comics. Suck my left tit. I don’t care. After that I watched the XMCU movies, and then as I developed my blog on here, I started reading the comics, watching The Animated Series, and just researching via wiki and 616 rp blogs. So if you want to get bent out of shape, bet I had you fooled. I was running a movie/cartoon based blogs for years before I officially switched it to TAS, and then finally now just canon divergent 616. But I digress, what actually hooked me beyond Rogue’s power being badass (who the hell wouldn’t like the idea of being able to steal other powers or memories as needed?), I really liked her relationship dynamic with Logan where he wasn’t forcing her to be all happy sunshine and rainbows over her inability to touch people, but neither was he encouraging her to not accept her power. He was basically “yeah kid it sucks, so figure it out and use it as best you can”. She’s introverted, with good fucking reason, yet not shy of back talking anyone. Her moral leaning is to that of good but she’s also not going to let rules stop her. The eye roll at the insufferable goody two shoes people in her life, I feel on a spiritual level. Basically, I relate to Rogue a lot minus all the powers. Which I am constantly given shit for liking Rogue for the fact she’s OP as shit in the comics, and I’m just sitting here like “the Rogue I started off liking didn’t have all these bonus features, dude. I didn’t know they existed. No I’m not writing them away but I will better explain them or why I think she wouldn’t be thrilled to have them or use them excessively. Die mad about it, idk.”

Padmé was for the fact she’s so damn self assured and doesn’t have a hidden agenda. Don’t @ me about her using decoys and not telling people. That’s not deception that’s staying alive when you have active hits on you. It’s not the same and the people that want to bitch and moan about her being sneaky, blah blah blah, no one needs that in their life. Go away. Like for a politician to get into politics, and stay in politics, and be legitimately concerned about continuing to hold up her peoples’ best interests while at the same time having the rest of the welfare of the galaxy also held into consideration, and just be flat out honest up and front about it...even as a little kid I was immediately recognizing “this chick doesn’t give two shits- she’s not playing the game, and they’re trying to KILL her for it, and she just sticks to her guns harder. I’m in love.” So everyone that was like “waah Anakin couldn’t possibly be like ‘wow she’s incredible I want to marry that, he was too young for that’, hi 👋🏼 it me, I’m Anakin. I watched that shit when I was 8. And yeah, instacrush. Also looking back and realizing the Bi was strong in this one, it just wasn’t labeled as that yet 🙃 And I’m fully aware I am not, nor will I ever be, the confident badass that she is, and I’m okay with that. That’s what writing is for. Much easier to explore that with characters since they tend to write themselves, and not try to emulate things in real life since that doesn’t go well. And I never really dropped her so much as I went on hiatus on all my blogs, for over a year because life was poop, and THIS DUMBASS BEING KNOWN AS MYSELF...forgot what the fuck random email and password I used. I tried so many combinations. No success. So I’m just locked out forever, and since I have so few people for the fandom following Rogue’s original that I turned into my multi, I just relegate her to by request only.

As for what fatal error will cause me to drop a thread...there’s a few. Constantly write at me vs to me. If I’m giving you stuff to work with and react to, and I’m constantly being given next to nothing to actually engage with, I’m going to drop it. I’m not carrying a thread. That’s a chore, I’m not here to work. If you start attempting to fuck my muse out of nowhere. I’m not talking flirtations, I’m not paranoid, but like actually hands down pants, making out out of nowhere, etc with no interaction lead up and no discussions, nope. That tells me you didn’t read my rules, or you were like fuck it, and I just, can’t vibe with either. And it’s not like I don’t make my rules readily available by reblogging them on a weekly basis, pinning them to the top of my blog, etc. (I’m fully aware my theme is outdated af which is why I’m constantly telling people I will send character bios and rules in both asks and in posts so that people aren’t stuck clueless. I’m stuck on the app with no good functioning netbook, let alone a laptop. It’s been my pain for years now.) Most anything else is a failure to find muse for lack of plotting for the thread. Them’s the main reasons.

[incarnateirony]

as an emerging lgbtq+ (i'm 'BT') guy i am so glad you're making the point you made in your last post. I've always gravitated towards Dean because he is so 'imperfect' in his queerness, like me. but he's not a uwu soft queer so apparently that bothers a lot of ppl on here? Especially younger queer women, I've noticed. But a lot of guys, cis and trans, struggle with being attracted to men so much in a way that is simply different (not better or worse) than (1/2)

being wlw, especially depending on one’s generation and region, etc. basically what i’m saying is a lot of the few queer men that there are in the fandom stay quieter as it is almost completely queer women dictating what is and what isnt, and not quite empathizing with the unique struggle many queer men have with internalized homophobia/being Unmanly for being attracted to men. hope this wasn’t too all over the place, ive had this on my mind for a Long time and i’m glad you brought it up. (2/2)

ps: I’m not trying to put down queer women for being a significant part of the fandom. I just really wish the environment of the fandom felt more like somewhere queer men’s voices can be heard better, considering the largest pairing is, needless to say, mlm

Well, first of all, welcome Nonnie. I take it you’re addressing this untitled post addressing intersectionality, representation vs tokenization, represented demographics and just general motivations of those in discussion, yes? (x)

You’ll find this is a longstanding topic of my blog, be it excavating creator commentary people have buried for their own motivations and talked down and around, or dual faceted issues. 

(If you haven’t read the crosslinks on the post you’re addressing, you may want to read The Problem With Dreamhunter (x) It discusses exactly this issue, even if it was written over a year ago at that point, showing just how cyclic this issue is. It talks about MLM/WLW intersectional issues, migrating goalposts, a bunch of show stuff and some of Bobo’s sociopolitical commentary from 2003 about advancing LGBT representation through moderate incremental methods being proven effective at expanding the media presence/platform exponentially above liberal, or more severe/extreme styles)

But when it comes down to it, basically: Yeah, you right.

I didn’t just arbitrarily develop this opinion. I didn’t… just magically tune in to what the LGBT men that literally dodge fandom, for exactly the reasons you say, and know it’s because of the reasons you say – like that didn’t manifest. It came from leaving fandom (un)”safe” spaces. It came from engaging a great variety of LGBT males in real life, many of which engage the content. From observing how they spoke of the content in multifandom servers, or even *why* they chose to avoid speaking up.

And no, I personally didn’t get a read of you, like, insulting LGBT women for their part in fandom. Women engage social media for primetime TV fandoms at an exponential rate above men, so it’s almost unavoidable and it’s nobody’s fault really, but that says nothing for the perpetual habit of drowning out their voices to the fact that– well, they literally abandon engaging.

I’ve seen it enough times it *hurts* me. I shouldn’t *have* to pull my gay writing buddy out of holes to face this, and him still hide silently. I shouldn’t *have* to be the vein of news and information on the show to the bi male friend I have that refuses to touch this fandom. I shouldn’t *have* to even speak up about this. I really do want *you all* to speak up about this, because I can only speak so far, because you’re right: OUR JOURNEYS ARE DIFFERENT.

Hell, even a cis lgbt male vs a trans lgb(t obvious) male have entirely different journeys even though they’re both validly men. These battles are not the same. One community can speak up to defend another, and help hold them up and amplify them if there’s just not enough of them to project the way they need to, and this is something *greatly under respected* in this fandom. Nobody’s holding up the LGBT male voices when actually talking about representation. And you’re right, it’s mostly women, and you’re right, our path is different and our struggles and needs and wants and lives are different. But unless you take a considerable amount of time talking and sharing and learning personally the perspective of the LGBT male community, you’re not… really… helping them speak.

And let it be said, “holding up LGBT male voices” does not and should never equate to “despite having multiple LGBT men saying one thing, I found the one LGBT male saying the thing that matches what I want, who may or may not even actually be in the targeted demographic set of the character we’re discussing representation about, because it’s more than just being bi, it’s entire lives, paths and challenges– but you know, I found the ONE, so fuck the others.” That’s using your friends as tokens and cards. If you want to genuinely add to the conversation, what you do is you introduce your male LGBT friend to the other male LGBT friends and let them have a long conversation to talk out the sources of their disagreements before engaging in conversation.

But drawing a pretty base line collective from all people in the represented demographic, respectfully learning the majority wants and needs and struggles, and helping voice those is pretty key.

Women can sit here all day, and pass around things they’ve been told by other women are woke points, or things that sound progressive and good, and often sort of decontextualized from their purpose (be that the dresswear mentioned shortly hereafter, or what LGBT want/expect/SHOULD want or expect – but in the end, if you’re not sitting down and having dialogues – not just with one, or two, or even three LGBT men – but large handfuls and subsets, able to actually critically examine the differences in LGBT males of gen X, Y, or Z and their lives and stories – if you’re not doing that… If *that* isn’t the core of your discussion values, rather than pass-along buzz vibes– then you’re really not talking representation. You think you are. But you’re not.

There’s the uh. Thing. You noticed. About how women expect the men to engage.

When it comes to young queer women, I’m going to risk pissing some people off, but the long and short of it is (I could probably dig up the link but it’s been an eternity) a while ago they ran a psychological study to figure out why young women were attracted to yaoi, and gay porn, especially what is essentially stereotypical force-role type gay porn. It has to do with blooming attraction, primal fear, and trying to make the men more appealing in a way that does not intimidate them. 

This later manifests into feminizing them, setting twink/bear roles that go beyond into top/bottom, and conflating it with penetration, position, power, dom/sub, fork/spoon, sometimes served with a dose of internalized misogyny being projected into the vessel of whatever twink/sub is positioned, and generally— like, kink culture. Often this is passed with narrowly progressive-masked arguments of “Men should be allowed to be feminine if they want!” rather than a genuine answer to, “Why do you perpetually heterosexually resize, or reframe, and enforce heterosexual structure onto characters that do not meet this mold, and why is that a personal gain to you?” because in the end– it’s a personal gain. And again, at that point it’s not about representation.

Now again, I’m not… shaming anyone for having a kink. But kink/fetish needs/wants have blurred themselves in as if to hedge on equal territory to discussing canon content. Or sprinkling the quite literal fetishized art (power to you if that’s your thing, I guess, even if I do bear discomfort over fetishization of any LGBT demographic, even by another LGBT demographic) and reasoning with dialogue that implies it as being representative, and inserting that into the representation discussion, which *literally* just makes the entire bog muddier, makes the LGBT men trying to speak more easily dismissed in a vat of “just women/fetishists”, it just– it’s Not a Good. I’m… personally not a fan of it. Like at all. A lot of it makes me angry tbh. So I don’t engage. I don’t browse fanfiction. I look at very little art. 

Hell most of the people around here don’t even realize it’s actually a *minority* of LGBT men that choose to engage in penetrative sex, but it’s become a topic of outright obsession around here. There is so much simple… lack of awareness and discussion of the lives LGBT men lead, even by LGBT women because again – we don’t have your path. We can only listen to you. (And BOY have I gotten earfuls from my LGBT male friends absolutely going apeshit banana bonkers over fandom’s obsession with penetration culture, gender role enforcement while feigning it as liberation, and all kinds of other stuff. And that’s what I base most of my talking points on.)

Because if I’m going to talk representation, I’m going to talk about representing the demographic the character is supposed to represent, not molding him into a tokenized wash-over of every single person’s wants. If you’re an LGBT woman that can resonate with Dean Winchester, that’s great. Sometimes representation can be shared. But a character’s origin determines what demo he represents and not all of any given representative’s character’s attributes, methods, functions, anything – not all of it is going to meet any one person’s goals collectively, but the target demographic is inevitably closer to it.

Another point to raise is that it feels like people have lost track of *what* the representation battle is about. It isn’t just about any one person attaching to any one character. It’s about developing a TVscape that looks more representative of the real world, with a fair presence of PoC, of women, of LGBT people of all types, of the disabled community, of people that are even more than one of these, of people with different stories: people. About, well, normalizing it, because it should be normal. About saturating television enough that one day, and that day will not just be tomorrow per convenience, that people won’t be desperate for representation even vaguely in their wheelhouse, that they can turn on and see people of any intersectional type and go– wow, the world finally realizes we’re real. And that in that wide, realistic menu, yes, being able to turn a channel and eventually see someone *just like you*. A day when any show turned on has at least *someone* in your wheelhouse because every show eventually should have some sort of realistic spread, but if you find the *right* show, *there you are.*

That’s how it’s built. We don’t start by footstomping and tokenizing everyone to be vaguely representative of everyone or it doesn’t count because it didn’t work for *them*. We start by sharing truly diverse narratives, each unique to their own, just as diverse as straight stories are, maybe even more. That’s the only way you’re actually going to end up with a TVscape full of The Gays, and full enough to find *explicitly yourself* in there.

Deleting normalized, non-sensationalist text for lacking either visibility or flavor, even if you weren’t the intended demographic for it to speak to, is quite literally contrary to the entire fight.

and tbh?

This shit is why I hate shipping culture.

And I say that as someone who presumably “ships” Dean and Cas, if it’s shipping to address canon bullshit happening in front of you and just watch the show as it folds out without going into denial for *whatever* personal reason. 

There’s a lot of well intended people, most shipping fandom is full of good beans, but as a collective group – skewed by sociopathically manipulated dialogues we can literally track the origins of – have been driven into much of the above while genuinely believing they were doing the right thing, in a long chain of being told this was what and how to fight for, without really stopping and critically examining the nuance of the conversation. Because why would you? Seems to be the popular gay thing to do – while a lot of bisexual people currently hide their commentary via reblog hashtags or hedge awkwardly into an anon box sideways.

That all said, it continues to be my focus. It will never change on this blog. I will never surrender to being pressured, be it by antis or bitters or people just wanting to argue, into pretending things that were text are subtext. I will not move that goalpost. You are real, and you are valid, and you are welcome in my inbox any time, Nonnie, confidentiality guaranteed. Like, DM too.

but lmao like shit, dawg. There’s a reason the LGBT guys I’ve had as writing partners as Dean literally refuse to play with another Cas. That’s not just because I’m a *super aweSOME auTHOr*, it’s because they recognize I do not come from the wing lost to fanfiction, to troll wars, or even to shipping culture, love of a ship be damned. I don’t try to force gender roles on them. I listen when they speak, and often, surprise many with the angle I ever enter discussion or listening from to begin with, because of spending so many years listening to begin with. It’s an intrinsic understanding of why they resonate with the content, not what I can pull some transformative art stuff on or wanting to *make* it into anything else to fit *my* molds. It’s because of being someone engaged to the male perspective, without the need to twist or change a character to be content with it, and being WILLING to hold those challenging conversations.

Listen first. Talk later. But never in front of or over the people you claim to be talking for.

[afearing]

since apparently theres no consequences for delivering unto this website extremely long and good takes i will present to you my hot take on the ace d'escourse, with no sources because I Dont Feel Like It. its more words than is reasonable bc i have been stewing in this for like 4 years and if i dont type it out at some point im going to fucking lose it. no, literally, it’s 3 pages long in word about shit no one cares about anymore. please remember to like and subscribe.

some background on me, i id’d as ace for something like 8 years, from the first time i read the wikipedia page on it back in maybe 2009 or thereabouts. i also id’d as aro for about a year in 2016. that is to say, i have a lot of compassion and understanding for asexual individuals and feel i understand the inclusionist side of the argument pretty well, as i never questioned inclusionism until maybe 2014 or so, when the discourse blew up. i took some time off tumblr because i was so fucking distraught to think that, as i id’d as aroace at the time, that i had to come to terms with not being lgbt. lol i was a little too attached to being ‘gay’ because... fun fact, past dumbass self... you are gay. anyway, i really dont want anyone to feel that i hate them, but after i cooled off a little bit i realized that the exclusionist take on asexuality just makes more sense. hopefully i can explain why clearly enough.

i really believe that what is understood as aphobia is 100% of the time simply a manifestation of our culture’s expectations surrounding sexuality. while “expectations surrounding sexuality” as a very broad topic does indeed cover both the lgbt community and people on the ace spectrum, facing these issues does NOT make a person lgbt. i subscribe to the idea that lgbt is for people targeted directly by homophobia and transphobia. ace issues ARE super important to talk about and the whole inclus/exclus nonsense is entirely because this discourse has been put under the wrong category. im aware that probably most people will not care that much about my opinion on the correct framing of asexual activism as i no longer id as ace but i think this is important for everyone. sexual expectations also weigh on straight individuals, especially women, and i’m going to describe a few examples to try to demonstrate why i believe both that it doesn’t make sense to consider asexuality lgbt as well as why it does make sense to frame it as an issue based mainly in misogyny.

call out post for myself, i use reddit, and i think the r/childfree community is a good example of what i think the framing should be like. although it’s acknowledged that not wanting children has larger social consequences for women, both men and women talk about their issues in the forum, including horrific accounts of reproductive coercion and rape, the intersections with race/being lgbt/ageism (although they could do a LOT better with intersectionality, many posters do touch upon it), profoundly cruel comments made by those who have/want children, difficulty finding an understanding relationship partner, discrimination at work, misunderstandings and even hatred from family and acquaintances, discrimination in healthcare, etc.

i think you can tell where i’m going with this. even though being childfree cuts against the expectations for sexuality in most societies, even though it leads to unfair judgment from others, and even though they face discrimination on the basis of the way they express their sexuality, childfree people do NOT frame parenthood/childfreedom as an axis of oppression, nor do they claim that their lack of desire for children makes them lgbt. it’s not even a question if straight childfree people are straight, because duh? nor if the presence of lgbt childfree people makes the whole community fall under the lgbt umbrella, because it obviously doesn’t.

to drive the point home, the reason why this is NOT an axis of oppression is because parents face a ton of issues as well! they also face reproductive coercion as well as judgment over the number of kids they have, constant scrutiny and moralization over every aspect of their parenthood style, judgment based on parents’ age/wealth/sexuality/marital or dating status/race, housing and employment discrimination, especially for mothers, the government hating poor parents and cutting their benefits, and more i’m sure i’m not thinking of. again, this is due to societal expectations of sexuality. to complete the analogy, people who aren’t ace face their own set of challenges and discrimination. part of homophobia/biphobia is tinged with hatred of our sexual attraction; no one except for straight white men is allowed to really express their sexuality without backlash, and even then there is this shame leading to a lack of proper sex ed and horribly unhealthy understandings of sexual attraction in a large portion of the populace. so calling aphobia an axis of oppression is just not right. and in addition, the large proportion of lgbt aces doesn’t make asexuality lgbt, that’s not how groups work.

some more on what i mean by ‘expectations around sexuality’... in terms of my experience in the US, there is some blueprint in many people’s minds of what a person should be like in terms of sexuality, and that is something like “cishet, abled man, who is neither ace nor aro, who gets laid regularly (but not to excess) starting no later than 18 and ending no later than 28 when he settles down with one cishet abled wife, also neither ace nor aro, who has only had sex with up to three committed boyfriends, and they have precisely two children, approximately two years apart in age, whom the parents can financially and emotionally support to the utmost, because they are also moderately to very well off, and the parents work under traditional gender roles to raise their children as conventionally as possible.” and if you deviate from this script in ANY way that’s viewed with moral panic and scrutiny by someone. and the connection to misogyny is that women are seen as sort of the bastions of sexual morality. we are punished especially harshly for nonconformity.

if you’re poor you’re fucked because either you don’t have kids or you can’t send them off to private schools and feed them fancy organic shit. if you’re lgbt or polyamorous or aro or ace? fucked! if you dare to reproduce as a disabled person, and if your disability impacts your parenthood, especially for women, you’re practically crucified even in liberal circles. if you have too few kids or too many (don’t you know only kids turn out weird? / how can you possibly raise 5 children properly?), if you have too much sex or too little, if you split up the work in your relationship not along gender lines, if you do unconventional things in your parenthood, like accept your trans kids or move a lot or any number of other things, the social judgment rains down like the fires of fucking hell. meaning practically no one can escape it!! huge bonus to the screaming crowd with pitchforks if you’re a person of color or a woman, mega ultra bonus to women of color.

but does that make everyone i just talked about lgbt? no! although every single one of the groups i mentioned is tangentially related through this issue, even though all of them face a lot of horrible problems and discrimination, that does not make those issues inherently lgbt. again, they are tangentially related and i could see a good case for solidarity among many of the groups mentioned; all of them are fighting for greater acceptance of different kinds of relationships, greater acceptance of seeking happiness and being who you are rather than pressuring everyone to conform as much as possible to the LifeScript. but all of those groups are equally related to the lgbt community - that is, tangentially only. just as you can be childfree and straight, a stay-at-home dad and straight, a straight woman of color, so too can you be polyamorous and straight, ace and straight, or aro and straight.

that’s it for my main point. ace and aro people? your lives are hard. i’m not going to downplay it in any way because i know there are a lot of people who actually hate your guts. fuck, i’ve seen people full-on shittalk asexuality, in the internet and real life, in the most blatant of ways, so it’s not just something you can necessarily escape by logging off. not as much so for aro people tbh but i predict as much once the Public gets more wind of your existence. i fully believe that you face a higher risk of sexual assault; discrimination in relationships, housing, and the workplace; horrible comments from everyone who thinks their shitty opinion on your sexuality and love life matters; and I believe you that that hurts and is terrible and that you deserve a place to discuss and provide support.

but. those issues are not exclusive to you. they’re not exclusive to lgbt people, or oppressed people, and so those issues don’t and cannot make you lgbt, nor do they make ace/aro vs. allo an axis of oppression. our communities intersect, yes, considerably, but you are not a subset of lgbt. perhaps our rhetoric can help you, but because straight ace and aro people exist you cannot and should not consider yourselves lgb+. i think you understand that the issues you face are a form of oppression, but they are the result of the toxic and misogynistic sex culture in this society, which, yes, targets lgbt people but also, practically everyone, including groups which are definitively absolutely not inherently lgbt, such as parents, gnc straight people, poc, disabled people, the list goes on.

to conclude, what really converted me to being an ace exclusionist was the example of a straight grey or demi ace. how could you possibly argue that someone who falls in love with the opposite gender only, but with more conditions or less frequently than someone not aspec, is lgb+, can call themselves queer, etc.? exactly what material reality does that person share with a gay or bi person? i think that their issues fall in line with aspec community issues but extremely clearly not at all with lgbt ones. 

the end but post script since i brought up orientation modifiers: perhaps it isn’t my place to say, but i don’t think that microlabels are very healthy and that it would make more sense for the ace community to work on expanding the idea of what sexuality is than to try to create a label to describe every single person’s experience of their sexuality. not that i think you should necessarily kick grey ace people out of the aspec community or that they’re not valid or whatever, but that perhaps it makes more sense to say that some people experience sexual attraction less frequently, and that’s alright. i don’t know.  i spent sophomore year of high school poring over those mogai blogs looking for some new orientation label that would make me go like, oh my god that’s me! and believing that if those labels helped people feel that way they weren’t doing any harm. but what actually finally made me feel like that was expanding my understanding of what attraction is and a better conception of lesbian issues and why i might feel so disconnected from my sexuality and why i might be obsessing over every interaction with a guy looking for signs i was attracted to him but feel super disgusted whenever they exhibited interest in me. i spent so long trying to go like maybe im cupioromantic lithsexual and feeling terrified that that i had such a weird and esoteric sexuality that no one could ever possibly understand enough to be in a relationship with me... like, ok dyke! i know a lot of people have had similar experiences and i don’t think i know a whole ton of people now in college who are still doing that, which makes me think those labels are more harmful than not. 

i guess that’s anecdotal but it’s easier for me to believe that a person could cling to those labels due to internalized homophobia than actually have a new form of sexuality heretofore undiscovered throughout all human history, but that’s just me. and so many of them just sound so unhealthy, like dreadsexual. i really wish people would work on expanding what not being asexual can mean and look like and i dont think there would be this drive to create these labels anymore. even demisexual which i think is probably the most mainstream conditional orientation, i think many people who have never heard of it and are perfectly content not to would describe the way they experience sexuality a similar way and just consider it normal. sexual attraction isn’t necessarily having your nethers set aflame upon first making eye contact with someone, it looks different for every person and it’s alright to just be how you are without making it part of your whole identity.

The End II. this is 2,200 words. if you read this far you’re a fucking mad l- *the academy cuts my mic line while looking directly at the camera like in the office*