#turned me gay and defined my type of woman

[hotvintagepoll]

This is a three-way poll. Only one of these women will continue to the next round of the bracket.

Propaganda

Deborah Kerr (Bonjour Tristesse, An Affair to Remember, The King and I)— For several decades she held the record for most Oscar nominations without a win (6 in total), and she was a prolific leading lady throughout the 40s and 50s. She's best known today for the romance An Affair to Remember with Cary Grant, and as the governess in The King and I. Many people have this erroneous perception of her as extremely prim, proper, and virginal, but this could not be further from the truth. When she first came to Hollywood under MGM she was typecast into boring decorative roles, but broke sexual boundaries for herself and Hollywood generally in From Here to Eternity, when she made out (horizontally!) with Burt Lancaster (on top of him!) in the famous Beach Scene. She went on to play many sexually conflicted women, a character type that would define most of her post- Eternity work. She continued to break Hays Code boundaries with Tea and Sympathy, which addresses homosexuality/homophobia head-on, and even did a topless scene in The Gypsy Moths 1969!! One of the only classic stars to do so. She deserves a more nuanced and frankly a hotter legacy than she currently has!!!

Keiko Awaji (Stray Dog, A Japanese Tragedy, When a Woman Ascends the Stairs)— Her role as Harumi— a dancer who lives with her mom and will go to incredible lengths for one nice dress— is so fucking killer. she more than holds her own against Toshiro Mifune, the incredible sense of dread and foreboding in their scenes has really stuck with me

Hazel Scott (Broadway Rhythm, Rhapsody in Blue)—ok ok let me tell you about Hazel Scott. She was a Trinidadian piano genius. By the age of 3 she could play the piano by ear. She would play jazzed-up versions of classics in nightclubs and could sing too! She appeared in five movies, and used her influence as a piano prodigy to improve Black representation in film—she turned down offensive parts, demanded equal pay, and always wore her own costumes to ensure she was portrayed as glamorous and beautiful. She was the first African-American woman to host her own television show, The Hazel Scott Show. She stood up for civil rights and was an overall icon! If you want to watch her being a genius, here she is playing two pianos at once. And here's this one that shows off her consummate glamor! [videos beneath the cut]

This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Deborah Kerr:

I think she was one of my first crushes before I realised I was bi in The King and I when I watched it as a kid honestly. The kissing scene in From Here to Eternity is iconic for a reason. Actually tried to learn the accents for the characters she was playing if they weren't English which is more than pretty much anyone else was doing then. Played very restrained characters who frequently seemed to be desperate not to be so restrained. Did horror movies without venturing into hagsploitation tropes. Gave Marni Nixon the credit she deserved for her share of the singing in The King and I.

Anne Larsen is a peak late 1950s bisexual with big MILF energy. Have you seen the behind the scenes pics of her wearing a suit?? Have you????? Vote Deb as Anne Larsen.

Nominated for an Oscar six (6) times and never won, but besides her having actual talent (hot), and besides her looking Like That (very hot, also beautiful), she was always playing women who are, like, crazy repressed. Which makes it fun and easy for me to read these characters as queer. Icon!!!! You know what's hot? Playing ambiguously gay in vintage Hollywood.

Her face and talent and body, yes, ofc, duh. But also!!! Her HANDS!!!! I may be but a simple lesbian, but she is the best hactor (hand actor) that ever lived and that's HOT! For propriety's sake I feel I must redact a large portion of my commentary on this subject. Anyway. She's hot in her most famous roles (mentioned above), and also some of her sexiest hacting is on display in An Affair to Remember (her hand on the bannister when Cary Grant kisses her off-screen??? HELLO???), Tea and Sympathy (when she's trying to persuade Tom not to go out and she keeps flexing her hands like she wants to reach out to him but can't??? ALLY BEHAVIOR! WE STAN!), and The Innocents (which opens and closes with extended shots of her hands bc director Jack Clayton was also an ally and he did that for ME). Much of her appeal also lies in the fact that she often played deeply repressed characters and you know what's hot? When those uptight characters finally unravel. It's sexy. It's cathartic. It's erotic. Plus, she's beautiful to look at in both black & white and technicolor, and the more of her films you see, the more you can't help but fall in love!

Literally is in thee most famously sexy scene of all time (or maybe just during the hays code era which is what we're talking about HELLO), which is the beach scene with Burt Lancaster in from here to eternity. To quote a tumblr post of a screen capture of a tweet of a video of joy behar on the view: "y'know, there used to be movies where they were kissing on the beach... From Here to Eternity. They're kissing-- Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr are Kissing on the Beach and then the WAVES crash!! You know exactly what they did!"

She might have a reputation of being chaste and virginal or whatever, but we all know it's the quiet ones who are certifiable FREAKS

Keiko Awaji:

Hazel Scott:

[firstkanaphans]

if i have permission to be a bit of a bitch in your inbox (feel free to ignore this if not), the dichotomy people build between bl and queer media is sooooo fascinating. and of course by that i mean it gives me hives. the universalizing of 'real queer experiences' is obnoxious as hell, but how its been applied to ofts has really shown me why i find it so obnoxious. most of the people who hold this dichotomy would never classify a bl that ignores homophobia as 'authentically queer' media. but i definitely saw people who hoped that the 'authentically queer' ofts would exist in a bubble without any slutshaming, or that it would be resolutely shut down in show. but in my aroallo experience? that would be as inauthentic as the no homophobia bubble, so where does that leave us?

also the circular logic in the bl vs queer media arguments is mind numbing. 'bl doesnt cover these types of themes' yeah dude because you forcibly remove everything with those themes from the bl category in your head. 'queer media must acknowledge homophobia' the idea that a story by queer people about queer characters isnt really queer because it chooses to focus on joy or discovery or any other facet of queer existence is so fucking depressing. go hug a queer friend and think about why you feel queerness is defined by suffering before anything else.

Oh, hey, you found my soap box, Anon! Let me just step on up there with you for a minute.

So, first off, let me just say how much I hate the term “authentically” queer. It seems to suggest that in order to be queer, you have to be queer a certain way. As an ultra femme lesbian, the queer community often makes me feel like I’m not queer enough. That I don’t understand the hardships that come with being gay because I am “straight-passing.” This is the same thing people do to BLs. News flash: if you’re queer, you’re queer. Period. Congratulations, that’s all it takes to be authentic!

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that a large percentage of the people I see using this designation are straight women who think that queer suffering is a necessary part of the queer experience, but a lot of “authentically queer” people—me included—don’t want to be reminded of our real-life suffering every time we turn on the TV. Heartstopper is triggering for me. Bad Buddy is not. As a queer woman currently living in Ron DeSantis’s Florida,  I deserve to be able to turn on the TV every once in a while and not be reminded that there are people in the world who want me dead.

I’ve learned that when people describe a BL as “authentically queer,” what they actually mean is “This BL feels more Western”—the racist insinuation there being that Western media is inherently better.

I feel like The Eclipse is a good example of this hypocrisy. No one has ever called The Eclipse “authentically queer” despite the fact that it delivers one of the most nuanced takes on the dangers of systemic homophobia that I have seen anywhere. The writers of both the source material and the script are gay men. The director is queer. That seems to meet all of the qualifications these people set for “authentically queer” and yet no one has ever questioned that The Eclipse is a BL. Why? Because it incorporates traditionally Asian/yaoi humor tropes such as the pratfall and the accidental kiss. 

Are you sensing a pattern? It’s not the queer-ness of a piece of media that determines whether it is seen as “authentic.” It is its “Western-ness.”

Let me be very clear: All BLs are “authentically queer” media because the only requirement needed for a piece of media to be “authentically” queer is for the characters to be queer. And if you don’t like that, then maybe stop watching BLs.

If the people who were producing these shows had a problem with the term, that would be another discussion, but they don’t. P’Jojo has never advertised Only Friends as anything other than a BL. The fandom did that for him. And with all due respect, if the people making the fucking thing are calling it a BL, then it’s a fucking BL.

So, yeah. Not liking BLs doesn’t make you cool. It makes you a bigot. The fact that the term has become so derogatory is rooted in both racism and misogyny because this was originally a genre created by women, for women, and the hobbies of women are so often infantilized.

BLs are queer media. Die mad about it.

[liskantope]

On ACX a few days ago there was a post on the dynamics of the academic job market (highly relevant to me) and of course at least one of the threads in the comments section turns it into culture war stuff. I want to highlight one of the comments because of its relevance to discussion I've been making here lately, and I quote from it below:

The left has a bunch of beliefs that defy biology. For example: 1. There are 50+ genders. 2. Intelligence is entirely a function of nurture, and nature (such as genetics) plays no role. 3. People who are gay are born that way (i.e. it is genetic). Anyone can choose to be trans at any time (sex is not genetic). None of these beliefs would disqualify a person from being a biology professor. They are all substantially more common, and more anti-biology, than any republican-coded example belief you gave.

Now I find most of this comment (with the possible exception of #2) completely off the mark. I don't think I need to preach to the choir by getting into why the "50+ genders" claim is a distortion of the concept of a gender spectrum based on a 7-years-out-of-date weakman. As for "people who are gay are born this way", hardly anyone on the "woke" left seems to insist on it (especially an assumption that environment plays no role), and it reflects a gay rights talking point that's more like 15 years out of date.

But the most interesting part to me, of course, is the "anyone can choose to be trans at any time" characterization of the pro-trans position.

This is good timing for bringing this up, because I was just talking about why Jordan Peterson's rhetoric seems badly twisted and confused, as he seems to be under the impression that those evil "gender theorists" behind the trans movement are all acolytes directly or indirectly of John Money and thus all believe that one's gender can be changed at will or by fiat through external coersion or something. This is as far as I can tell a complete distortion of the actual "trans ideology", but here we can see it reflected by the ACX comment, which shows that this a common "outsiders' view". (And nobody underneath that comment seems to be trying to correct the commenter's impression either.)

But as usual, I'm going to claim that we can't entirely blame misunderstandings like this on the conservative side of this culture war battle. I made an offhand remark a while back in the midst of another post about how astounded I am at seeing "being trans means you want to be a man/woman/neither" descriptive comments multiple times here on Tumblr; I called this "plainly thinly-layered nonsense" and would stand by that now. As soon as you start to pick it apart, it in fact seems to have transphobic (including from the most orthodox view of the trans movement!) implications: what, a trans woman wants to be a woman but isn't one? or does "be a woman" just mean "be viewed as a woman", because I thought that was different from Actually Being a woman? etc.

I'm willing to acknowledge and respect that there must be reasons I don't fully get about why that type of phrasing works well as a description of how many trans people feel -- indeed, someone used it to describe themself in a reblog of my just-above-linked post and if I squint hard enough I can kind of see why they might want to use the phrase -- but if you're going to go around saying being trans is defined as "wanting to be" a certain gender, this (remarks like #3 in the ACX comment above) is the most natural consequence. (Also anecdotes I hear about teachers telling young children, "When you grow up, you can be whatever gender you want!", which is either what some well-meaning teachers nowadays in geographically progressive regions are actually telling kids, or a distortion/exaggeration by conservatives, in either case based on the aforementioned common confusion about pro-trans beliefs.)

[crguang]

just found out a bunch of things watching hsr youtube videos cause this is turning into a fixation…. mostly about kafka because. um. because. (literally cannot stop thinking about that woman) im late asf but who cares!!! this will be kinda long .

first things first…. she needs to be executed. why would she lie about this😭😭😭😭😭😭 omg. can you imagine not knowing anything about yourself or where you come from, only vaguely remembering this random woman who ABANDONED you in a space station full of strangers, you ask her who she is and she says shes your MOM…? then goes “taking care of you was so hard ugh i dumped you the minute the opportunity presented itself hehe” with the chuckle at the end?! potentially giving the TB an identity crisis and abandonment issues for a silly game of truth and lies is deranged😭😭😭 i wouldve looked at her with the craziest expression of disbelief she’d have to lose her composure and let me know it was a lie because… evil!!!!!!

i went back to her mission and looked at the answers for the options i didnt choose and guys….. they must’ve spent so much time together oh my tummy hurts… kafka teaching the TB everything they know im going a bit insane. now that conversation after fu xuan used the matrix of prescience is much more interesting and i understand why she cares (allegedly…) about the mc. its so cute😭❤️

the ipc is very very unserious. “wanted dead or alive for 10 billion credits” after she leveled an entire planet is just ridiculous. what do you mean “or alive” we’re past trials at this point….. shes my wife but i never realized when they called the stellaron hunters criminals they meant the “destroyed planets and entire ecosystems” type of criminal…😭 my goodness. shes so silly. plus the ipc just let silver wolf participate in their aetherium wars championship like theres not an active million dollars bounty for her that THEY PUT OUT😭 unserious ass company

obligatory “shes so sexy” mention…. the tie, the gay ass suspenders, the thigh garter, the gloves… i’d be in her dms like pleasepleasepleaseplease. the head i would give her would be jaw breaking.

i love her answers here specifically because she says a lot without saying anything and i think its so on brand. but also im particularly loving the “i wonder how many of them are lies” seed she plants in our minds at the beginning because now we’re on the fence when i think she’s mostly being truthful 😭 she defined beauty the same way in her voicelines so it’s not a lie, i don’t see the SH being the same as the express crew either so yeah, she didnt reveal a thing that she didnt already tell the TB about elio’s script…. she also doesnt say anything of substance about her spirit whisper. it’s probably the only “lie” in here. ugh i love her

i have so much more things to say but i’ll be normal and leave it at that… its crazy how quickly she became my favourite character shes just the type of character that i gravitate towards and im finding it so fun to analyze her every sentence just because shes a professional liar. i love her so bad

[g-l-o-w-y-l-i-g-h-t-s]

Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along-Blog but with lesbians would have been a masterpiece btw. If you even care. "Next up: Who's Gay?"

Captain Hammer: "The Hammer is my strap-on." Big muscly woman but she's managed to build a preppy wholesome heterosexual image of herself that fits what everyone wants to see. She fits in, but not as herself, whatever her civilian name even is. She's selfish and conniving and self-serving and a fuckboy lesbian and she has become all of those things because she felt she had to. She's also just kind of a bitch tbfh. Penny is an out lesbian and Captain Hammer, seeing that many celebrities are coming out, decides to make a whole Event(tm) of coming out and dating Penny and capitalizing on selling branded Captain Hammer Pride T-Shirts. "So I thank my girlfriend Penny. Yea, we totally had sex." It's honesty, it's self-acceptance even, but it's also a PR stunt. Because at this point, anything Captain Hammer does is a PR stunt. And Penny is just a self-actualization tool and stunt prop for her. And even so, Hammer is anxious about being openly dating a woman and makes sure that everyone knows that "quiet, mousey" feminine Penny is "Not my usual, but nice."

Dr. Horrible: "There's no happy ending, so they say. Not for me anyway" Billie has never actually been able to hide her queerness. Has always been cast as a villain. The doomed, corrupting Lesbian. And, much like her extant canon hetero-male counterpart, we watch as she spirals downward and becomes a femcel. Everything is already there. The camp. The "villain"/"hero" labels as more a marker of outsider status/popularity than actual moral value. The history of queer coded villainy in exactly the kind of media that this story is riffing on. The feeling that one's story is doomed to tragedy bc that's the version of the story you've seen again and again and again. And yeah, it does make you bitter.

Penny: "I cannot believe my eyes. Is the world finally growing wise?" An actually relatively well adjusted normal person type of Lesbian. We know Penny has been repeatedly rejected and denied job opportunities, and it would make sense for this to be because of her being openly lesbian. Maybe Penny herself was kicked out into the street as a girl and that's what got her started working to provide homeless shelters. Unlike Hammer or Billie, Penny has not allowed this to embitter or define her. She continues fighting to make the world better and came out long ago because she believes that the more people come out, the safer it will be for everyone else. And yeah, there's a cute gay woman who goes to the same Laundromat as her and gets fro yo and they flirt quietly and there's a sense of camaraderie in being two queer women even once Penny starts dating someone else. And that someone else! Imagine finding out that your celebrity crush is gay and interested in you specifically. And then!!! There's a huge pride event and everyone from your friends to the FUCKING MAYOR OF THE CITY is Congratulating you on this part of yourself that has been repeatedly rejected by society. And you're finally emphatically able to open a homeless shelter for queer people like you who were given no other place to go. Only to then realize that even your new gf is treating you as a cardboard cutout for photo ops and she has no real sense of queer community. Brutal.

Penny: She's really pretty and I thought she was kind of cheesy at first

Billie [under her breath]: trust your instincts

Penny: But she turned out to be totally sweet. Sometimes people are layered like that. There's something totally different underneath than what's on the surface.

Billie: And sometimes there's a third, even deeper layer, and that one is the same as the surface one...Like with pie :)

Bonus points:

Moist: "At my most badass I make people want to take a shower." Moist is a "gross sweaty dyke" with a weirdly sexual name and lives happily/vaguely sleezily ever after with the towelettes (if youve seen the comics you know what I'm talking about.)

Slightly different dynamic with the chorus of 3 Hammer fans. It is now two pining lesbian fangirls and one gay guy who is just hyped for there to be a queer superhero.

[very-sleepy-head]

Day 24: FREE

AU: stripper Mickey (no manic dancing phase for Ian) I can’t believe kinkmas is over! Please enjoy this super long one (over 4K words) ❤️

Previous Read this on Ao3 Master List

The music inside the club was loud as Ian and Lip walked in.

"A strip club? You brought me to a fucking strip club, Lip?"

Lip smirked as he sat down to order 2 fruity drinks, "A gay strip club, Ian."

"For fucks sake," Ian mumbled under his breath as he looked around.

As they started drinking, Ian's brother was hit on by a blonde girl in a little black dress. Only Lip would find a straight woman in a gay strip club. Ian immediately gave him a thumbs up under the table. 

"Are you sure, E?" His brother was a bit skeptical, but Ian just replied with a simple "Lip, she's your type and I don’t need a babysitter. Go get laid," and let him go.

All alone now, his attention turned towards the stage, and he was captivated by the dancer at the front.

He had dark hair and sparkling blue eyes, He was short but fit, earning grins and stares from every man in the crowd.

He looked irresistible, strong defined thighs, perfect slim waist, gorgeous neck and hips that Ian could see himself holding onto.  Ian was mesmerized by the way he was dancing, his moves were graceful, he was in his element. 

He was different from the rest of the dancers. He looked tough, like he wouldn’t take shit from anyone. 

He wore tiny little sparkly black booty shorts that were now on the top of Ian’s mind. The dancer’s hands teased the crowd by playing with the band of his shorts. And that was the moment Ian noticed his knuckle tattoos. He couldn't help but be turned on by the sight, but he also was curious as to why a guy as badass as him was dancing here.

Ian was sweating a little and trying really hard not to show how much he was enjoying the show.

A twink sat next to Ian and nudged him, earning a polite nod. "Are you here to watch or get some action?" he asked, disappointed that he got nothing in response other than a polite smile. 

“I’m Byron,” He tried again.

Ian finally opened his mouth, “Sorry, I’m just watching.”

Byron got up and left while grumbling, "You're not even that hot anyways."

The man gripped the pole with both hands and then heaved himself up onto it with a grace Ian didn’t know was possible, legs wrapping tightly around the pole, muscled thighs catching the light and it looked almost like his shorts were going to rip if he flexed his legs anymore.

The light caught on something on the man’s chest and Ian realized he had nipple piercings. 

Fuck that’s hot.

As he looked out towards the crowd Ian swore their eyes met just for a moment and he shuddered, watching as the dancer did one final spin around the pole, holding on with one leg and one hand, and flipped the crowd off. Moments later the song ended and the stage was doused in darkness.

Ian just took another sip of whatever stereotypical fruity drink Lip got him, watching the stripper end his show. With a bit of liquid courage in his system he decided to approach the beautiful stranger as he got down from the stage. 

He got up fast, moving towards the man who caught his eye, afraid he’d miss his chance if he waited too long.

When he finally reached him, Ian noticed how much shorter the man was up close. "Hey," he said, biting his lips, "How much for a d–"

"100$ take it or leave it, babyface." The dancer spoke, not surprised by the blush on Ian's.

"It's good,” Ian's hand slid 100$ into his shorts. “Not my first time, don't worry."

The stripper blushed, surprised but quickly came to his senses. “Okay, let’s go, firecrotch.” He smirked as he motioned Ian to sit down on the couch near them. 

Ian did as told and sat down, keeping his hands on either side of his lap. A new song started playing and the stripper began dancing for him. 

"So you've been here before?" The dancer asked, staring into his eyes seductively while beginning to move his hips on the redhead's lap.

"Not here. If I knew a guy like you worked here I would've, though," Ian flirted as he checked him out, and without thinking, slid his hand towards the stripper's waist, squeezing lightly.

“Try that again, asshole,” the dancer snapped, “I’ll break your fucking fingers.” He rejected, causing Ian to raise an eyebrow. It took him a moment to realize what he had done wrong. He pulled his hand back immediately.

“Shit, sorry.” Ian apologized sincerely. 

"Even though you're hotter than the average gariatric viagroids around here, I'm only here to dance, I'm not a fucking prostitute or something."

Ian raised his arms up, putting them on the backrest of the couch. “Won’t happen again.” He promised.

The stripper just chuckled at the theatrics, making Ian grin, "So, Red, what's your name?"

Ian eyed the dancer up and down, watching his moves closely and biting his lip, debating whether he should lie or not.

"Ian." he finally said after a moment of silence.

“Suits you.” The dancer replied simply.

Then the song changed and he got up with a smile, turning away.

Ian rose up immediately, getting up from the couch as fast as humanly possible and grabbing his hips, "Hey, that's it? A 100$ bill and you're gonna tease me with one song?" He let go and whispered in his ear, "Don't I deserve just a little bit more?"

The dancer turned his head around just for one second, winked at Ian, and left the dance floor.

—

Ian couldn’t get the dancer out of his head. No matter what he did, he kept dreaming about him.

He never anticipated returning after the one visit, but there’s just something about the foul-mouthed stripper, something about his unapologetic attitude, his effortless moves and his hot body…

Ian just couldn’t get him out of his head.

So when the next weekend rolled around he went back to the club, in the hopes of finding him.

The dancer was in the middle of his set when Ian walked it.

This time he didn’t bother ordering a drink. He waited until the beautiful man finished his dance before he approached him.

As soon as he was in ear shot the dancer called, “Missed me already, Red?”

“I–,” Ian was surprised he remembered him, but it gave him hope that the shorter man felt the connection too. “Can I have another dance?” He pulled a 100 dollar bill from his pocket and pushed it into the dancer's faux leather costume.

When the dancer gave him a slight nod, Ian began following him, "What's your name?" he asked but the man in front of him didn't answer, just put his arms around the taller's waist, squeezing it.

Ian froze and looked the stubborn man in the eyes, waiting for an answer. 

"I’m here to dance, not for you to listen to my life story, man." glancing around, he continued, "Besides, if you don't know my name, it's better." The stripper kept a smile on his face, but it didn’t seem genuine.

Ian didn’t hide his confusion, but he let it go. "So, do we-" He started before the feisty man cut him off, "Sit."

And Ian did as he was told, sitting down on the couch.

The dancer stuck around for two whole songs this time, but didn’t give Ian any information. Ian didn’t mind that much, he was just happy to feel the beautiful man’s energy was enough.

—

The next time he came to the club, Ian asked for a private dance. Maybe this way he could get more time with the mysterious man.

“Feeling comfortable there, big guy?” The dancer asked him as he stood in front of the pole in the private room. Ian sat on the black leather couch, his legs spread as he adjusted himself in his pants

“Would be better if I had you on me… or under me. But the couch is fine.” Ian said playfully, he could tell the guy was okay with his flirting. He trusted he’d make it known if Ian crossed a line.

The dancer leaned on the pole, looked Ian up and down before flirting back, “I think I’m gonna start with this pole, even though I can tell yours is almost as long.”

Ian just chuckled and the man in front of him started his dance. 

He spun around the pole, lifting himself up, never losing eye contact with Ian.

Ian noticed how strong he was, using his hands and thighs to hold himself up. Ian couldn’t want him more.

When the short man crawled closer to Ian, he asked, “So, Ian, do you think you could keep your hands to yourself this time?” 

Ian smiled. “If that's what you want me to, I will play nice.” 

“Don’t want to call security on you, so you better stay still.”

Ian nodded and the stripper kept crawling closer sensually, arching his back to make sure Ian got a view of his ass.

"What's your name?" Ian breathed out again as the dancer sat between Ian’s thighs, running his hands up Ian’s legs.

He kept dancing without missing a beat, a groan left his lips in annoyance yet he replied, "Mickey. Now move your hands so I can get on you."

"Oh," Ian was taken back but his body moved and he removed his hands from the place they rested in his lap.

“Now let me enjoy this,” Mickey said and resumed his slick moves against Ian’s body.

Ian had a hard time processing what just happened. Not only the hot dancer told him his name, Mickey, Mickey, but he told him he wanted to enjoy this. Like Ian wasn’t the only one enjoying the way their bodies pressed together.

Maybe Mickey felt this too.

When their time was up, Mickey got up quickly but lingered by the door before saying over his shoulder, “Kinda hope to see you again, Ian.” And with that he left.

Ian needed a minute to recover.

—

Mickey was horny as fuck tonight.

Mickey had two objectives as he took the stage: to make fucking bank, and to take the redhead home.

As always, he’s nothing if not goal-oriented.

He hasn’t seen him in two weeks and he was on edge.

If his audience is under the impression that he’s the prey in any sense of the word, they’ve got another thing coming. As soon as he stepped out on stage he noticed the dopey looking redhead. His favorite client in a long time. Ian’s attention was on him from the first glimpse of his move.

Fucking bingo.

It's the energy that radiates off of this guy. He's just magnetic. Mickey felt his eyes on him. Ian was sitting with his legs spread and his spine straight, and he didn't shy away from ogling Mickey immediately. But when Mickey winked at him, he could notice the blush on the guy’s cheeks all the way from the stage.

Mickey‘s gut instinct from day one was that behind the slight shyness, Ian would know how to handle his bratty ass.

Doe-eyes was in the front row tonight, so Mickey decided to give him a bit of a VIP treatment, to see how he’d react. Mickey started to dip, sliding his forearms down the pole and giving him a nice full view of his ass.

The guy has the audacity to smirk, like he was finally catching on, enjoying the little private show Mickey was giving him. That was the moment Mickey knew for sure that his instincts had been on point.

Even so, Mickey took his time making eye contact with the entire crowd, earning his tips that they threw  his way. 

When he began his most jaw-dropping part of the  show, it only proved him right. None of those other men could handle him like they think they could, wolf-whistling and waving their cash, yelling sexual suggestion that would make other strippers crawl.

He entertained them and at the same time he didn't. He didn’t grab cash from the floor, not risking getting too close to the crowd.

The only times he got closer to the edge of the stage were when he stood in front of his favorite redhead.

It was such a fucking thrill to ignore the audience, to set his eyes on one person but make him question his own sanity, to make him wonder whether or not he was imagining it. Mickey knew he was driving Ian crazy tonight.

Mickey licked his lips, and the dude looked absolutely starstruck.

It gave Mickey a rush. It felt like no one else was in the room, the way this man got Mickey with just his eyes. Almost like Ian understood him, as Mickey moved his body on stage for everyone to see, it was for his guy to see.

And god, he was hot as fuck.

Mickey is taking him home tonight.

After he finished his set and walked down the stairs he could still feel Ian’s eyes on him. Once he made eye contact he signaled Ian to come closer and nodded towards the „employees only“ sign.

Ian walked to him slowly, keeping his cool. Mickey liked it.

When the tall man reached where Mickey was leaning on the wall he placed a hand by Mickey’s head. 

“Your show was really–”

Mickey couldn’t help himself. “Let’s go to the Employees only bathroom. It locks.” His coworkers pulled this shit in the bathroom sometimes, it always pissed him off, and he was about to be that hypocrite. Fuck it.

“Follow me, Ian.”

Preventing potential confusion, Mickey used his name as he grabbed his arm and led the way. He wanted to affirm that he remembered him, that he didn’t pick him randomly. He has never done anything like this before.

Mickey found the door he was looking for and turned his back to it, using his shoulder to open it while asking Ian with a smirk. "Enjoyed the show, huh?"

Once the door's shut and locked, Ian pushed Mickey up against it. He wasn’t crowding him, not really, but sizing him up, drinking him in. Mickey took the same liberty to scan Ian’s body, his tight shirt and well-fit jeans, the way his big muscles filled them.

It was obvious that Ian was already half-hard, and it got Mickey’s heart racing.

"Felt like the only guy in the room," Ian said smugly, like it was an explanation, and that gets Mickey’s body on him.

Though Mickey was usually opposed to kissing his hookups, with Ian it almost felt like a necessity. So when Ian made the move to kiss him against the bathroom door, Mickey was putty in his hands, responsive and loud. He moaned when Ian kissed down his neck or squeezed his ass.

The more he heard, the more Ian felt like he should have done this sooner.

Mickey was almost too caught up in the fact that he found a person he actually liked hooking up with, to even notice that Ian was certainly tougher than his shy general impression suggested.

Ian was enjoying all of these varied responses from Mickey, his touch growing more playful, more adventurous. Something about Ian's openness encouraged Mickey to let himself indulge, and he didn't hate it.

Usually, men can’t even handle Mickey’s attitude, but this guy… 

Ian had Mickey wrapped around his finger, it was clear that this guy had something different about him.

Mickey was so fucking here for it.

Mickey felt like he was dreaming. Ian stuck his tongue in his mouth, and he couldn’t help but moan into the kiss. Ian grabbed his waist, pushing him against the door. He slowly kissed down his jaw, and began leaving hickies on his neck. One of his hands went down, giving Mickey’s hard cock a squeeze.

“Someone’s excited.” Ian smirked, not like he had any room to talk, Mickey could feel his boner against his hip. Mickey peaked behind Ian’s head and saw his own reflection in the mirror, looking like he just got fucked. He looked back at Ian, he was just smirking at Mickey. He began rubbing his hand on Mickey’s cock, who bucked his hips to get more pleasure but that was quickly put to an end, “Stop moving or I’ll leave you here like this.”

The whimpers coming out of Mickey's mouth was like music to Ian's ears.

Ian began to undress Mickey, removing his dancing shorts and underwear in one go, "God, I can't wait to see your body… Your gorgeous body." Those words coming out of his mouth only turned Mickey even more.

Mickey couldn’t move, pinned entirely against the wall by the bulk of Ian’s body. He was aware of how large Ian was, it’s impossible not to notice— but now Ian was towering over Mickey. There was nothing gentle about the way Ian was kissing him right now or the way his hands squeezed every part of Mickey he could get his hands on.

“Come on, Red, get on with it!” Mickey urged, hoping Ian would start fucking him already.

But Ian dropped to his knees, digging his fingers into the meat of Mickey’s thighs hard enough to bruise. He wanted to tease Mickey, nuzzling and licking until was a begging mess, but he didn’t have the patience right now. Tonight, he just took Mickey’s entire dick in his mouth, sucking it real good. Mickey shoved his fist into his mouth to stop himself from shouting in surprise and pleasure. He wanted to thrust into Ian’s mouth, to do anything but stand here and take it, but Ian’s grip on him is implacable. Mickey could only squirm and whine against his fist.

Suddenly there was a knock on the bathroom door. Ian pulled off Mickey’s cock with a loud pop and cursed “Fuck off,” he growled.

The stranger walked away.

Mickey laughed. “Well, that’s one way to do it, my— oh, shit.”

Because Ian was sucking his cock again, as if there was no interruption at all. His hands slide back to cup Mickey’s ass, pulling him closer. He would probably lose his balance, if Ian wasn’t holding him up. 

He was definitely going to have bruises on his ass, Mickey realized. Marks on his skin in the shape of his new lover’s fingers, which would hopefully last for days, if not longer, even after he and Ian part ways. The thought is almost as hot as the slide of Ian’s lips around his cock.

“Shit, shit! gonna cum,” Mickey whispered and Ian pulled off but his grip on his ass only tightened.

“No. Not yet.”

Ian surged to his feet and Mickey almost lost his balance at that, but Ian pushed him back against the wall, kissing him again.

Mickey let out a little whimper. When he felt the press of Ian’s cock against his hip, he pushed forward instinctively.

"Can you feel what you do to me? Can you feel me baby?" Ian leaned forward whispering the dirty words against Mickey’s skin, it drove him crazy, made him feel so out of his mind with need. He nodded trying to catch Ian’s lips again but he just moved his face, his hand moving to grip Mickey’s jaw lightly, forcing him to look into his eyes, his hand snaking around Mickey’s lower back, helping him grind down. It was hot, so hot and sexy he couldn’t even think straight.

"I said can you feel me?" Ian repeated and Mickey nodded fast, his mouth falling open as Ian moved his hands down to cup his ass in his big hands, squeezing his soft round cheeks.

"Fuck. I can feel you, you're so fucking hard" he whimpered lowly his hand moving down to grip Ian's cock through his jeans. He decided he needed to feel it. He opened Ian’s jeans and pulled his cock out of his pants and boxers. He was throbbing and leaking, and Mickey couldn’t wait to feel it inside of him. Ian groaned in appreciation of the touch, leaning forward to attach their lips in a wet kiss, he bit down on Mickey’s bottom lip.

"Hold on, beautiful."

Mickey obeyed, wrapping his arms around him tightly, he knew exactly what's coming when Ian lifted him up, and carried him a little further until his ass hit the cold sink edge. He whined at the cold hitting his bare ass that Ian was still groping.

His hands not knowing where to go, moving from Ian’s neck to his broad shoulders, he wanted to feel him all over. He needed to fucking feel him.

Mickey was a bit embarrassed but he wanted Ian to get on with it so he confessed, “I’m ready, come on!” When he noticed Ian’s confused expression he explained, “I fingered myself before… before my set.”

Mickey squealed as Ian’s fingers pulled his cheeks apart as best he could in this position, his thumb rubbing against his still open hole. He was still a little bit sensitive so it made him let out small whimpering sounds and hide his face into Ian’s neck, but it felt good.

"I'm still open, just fuck me-" he didn’t know how to speak through the harsh breathes he's letting out, but he didn’t think he'd be able to get through Ian fingering him open without cumming. He knew it was going to sting a little, and maybe take some time to adjust, but he felt so desperate, he needed this.

“Fuck. Yeah, okay. Let me turn you around, Mick.”

Ian nodded , kissing him deeply for a moment before setting him on the ground. Mickey’s eyes widened when he took a moment to properly look at Ian’s dick. He wished he could go down on his knees and suck his cock nice and wet, but they both didn’t really have the patience at the moment, so he let Ian spin him to face the bathroom mirror.

Ian reached into his back pocket to take a condom and single-use package of lube out of his wallet. He quickly slipped the condom on and rubbed the lube on himself and pushed two lubed fingers into Mickey. Ian bit Mickey’s shoulder as he fucked them into him hard and fast, only for a few moments, before pulling out.

Ian helped Mickey position himself against the sink and lined his cock against Mickey’s hole, “push yourself on my cock, baby.”

Ian’s mouth fell open, his eyes closing and rolling when Mickey pushed himself back on to his cock.

Ian’s fingers dug into Mickey’s hips, as he took over and thrusted gently until all of him was inside of Mickey’s ass. It was a big stretch and he wished Mickey let him finger him properly beforehand.

Mickey was in heaven. The angle was perfect, it wasn’t quite on his prostate but he knew Ian will find the perfect way to fuck into him. 

“Holy shit. That's it baby, that's it baby" Ian was mumbling under his breath.

Mickey threw his head back as the breath knocked out of his lungs, Ian fucked him in slow thrusts out until he was comfortable to thrust hard and fast.

Ian was so in tune with Mickey. Every pleased expression, every time his mouth fell open with a low moan, every time his eyes rolled back. Ian changed the rhythm of his thrusts to match. The second he was confident he was pushing every right button and could give Mickey what he deserved, the bastard met Mickey’s eyes in the bathroom mirror and asked, "Do I feel good?"

"Shit," Mickey cursed, stunned. Ian pushed inside him once, twice. "Fuck yeah."

"Shit, okay, come on," Ian grunted, reaching around, to get a hand around Mickey’s dripping cock. "Cum with me. Fuck, cum with me, yeah?"

Mickey noticed his own expression, chewing his lip again, his hair was everywhere, his skin blushing around his neck. Mickey’s eyes flicked back to the mirror, and Ian’s already there and Ian–

Ian didn't stand a chance.

“Ian,” Mickey moaned as his orgasm took over, Ian kept thrusting into him as he felt himself getting pushed over the edge.

Ian was certain he had never cum so hard. It could be Mickey’s perfect ass, squeezing him hard from base to tip, but deep down Ian knew it was more than that. He felt his whole body pulse as he came into the condom, Mickey’s own climax milking him through it.

They both collected themselves in a weirdly non-awkward silence. It might have something to do with the massive grin Ian had on his face, or the way neither of them can keep their eyes from one another for long.

“Will I see you again?” Ian asked eventually, hoping Mickey felt the same crazy connection he did.

“Of course you are, Red.”

Ian cleared his throat. “Not just in the club, I mean… I love watching you dance, but I was hoping to see you outside of this club too.”

“Oh I’m not done with you, Ian. Not for tonight, and possibly not for the foreseeable future. Wanna get out of here and go to my place?”

“Was I just invited to sleep over?”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Fuck you is what you’re invited to.” 

“Would much rather fuck you, Mickey.”

“Then you better get your freckled ass out of this nasty ass bathroom.”

MASTER LIST

[kyndaris]

Oh! Bento, My Bento!

After a slew of interactions with less than stellar individuals on Hinge, I started to despair whether or not dating was for me and if I ought to put an end to this strange experiment of mine to find a significant other. In fact, after having someone just talk at me about how great Japanese light novels were in comparison to 'western literature,' I changed my dating preferences to women only.

Why, you may ask?

Well, I was exhausted by men. And two, because for a while I've been questioning whether or not if I wanted a man in my life.

Confession time.

During high school and even at university, I never had crushes on anyone. In Year 8, I was told that another classmate might have had a crush on me, but while I tried to suss out their interest because I was flattered by the fact (although I thought I was toad in terms of the looks department - and I honestly still think I am), I never did get a proper read of his interests and began to doubt the claims made by my friends.

In fact, for a lot of my life, I've been told by others whether or not I've 'crushed' on others. But when I try to explore my own feelings on the matter, I've not thought of them as romantic. In fact, romance is a thing I've struggled to understand.

How DO you know if you like someone in that way? I've certainly never wanted to jump anyone's bones and the mere thought of engaging in those acts turns me off.

It's why I've often wondered if I was asexual. After watching a video where a YouTuber explained their own personal experience, I'm starting to think I truly do sit on that asexual spectrum.

But men, women or anything in between, that hasn't precluded me from romancing fictional characters. And in fact, I've enjoyed my time with many a great digital construct be that Garrus Vakkarian or Riku or Morrigan. Then, of course, there's the fact that I ship any and all types of relationships although some of my favourites in recent history has been Imogen Temult x Laudna, Catra x Adora, Kaz xInej, Arenza x Grey and Tifa Lockhart x Cloud Strife (although, I wouldn't mind Tifa and Aerith somehow becoming a pair in Remake). Of course, I also read some very questionable ships like Jacob Seed x Female Deputy...so take what I enjoy reading with a grain of salt - particularly if it has anything to do with AO3. There's a lot of messed up stuff on there.

So, don't read it!

You've been warned, dear readers.

Still, it was the trip that I went on in March this year that solidified that perhaps my interests were a little bit fruity. Despite the fact that the woman was married, there was something magnetic about her personality and I wanted to be around her. Sure, I wasn't going to immediately jump her bones but I did want to know as much as I could about her.

And when I think about a few of the interactions in the past, it's been the same. I might not have admitted it to myself but during a trip to China camp back in 2008, there was another girl that I really wanted to get to know better. It was somewhat disappointing to know that she was also popular with the boys too, but a part of me wished that we would be best friends.

Did it mean I wanted to be romantically entangled with her?

Who knows. I was unsure of my actual feelings at the time though I knew there was a strange sort of obsession on my part to be a really good friend to them.

But the wider implications passed me by.

I didn't know if that made me gay or not. In fact, I never truly pondered that question properly until now. Especially when in high school, a friend pretended (or at least I thought they were pretending) to be overly amorous with me and I never felt inclined to return it.

Heterosexuality had always defined my understanding of romance and I never much challenged it until more recently.

In any case, back to my dating!

Before I was unceremoniously kidnapped by a group of my friends for an impromptu road trip down to Canberra for Oz Comic-Con (and thereby proving White Coat correct that maybe I do go to a lot of conventions), I met up with another hopeful at a small cafe in Chippendale called Something for Jess before we toured the Oh!Bento exhibit at the Japanese Foundation.

This man, from a purely objective standpoint, was probably one of the better candidates that I'd met. Dikotter (my code name for him) had a good job as a software engineer, was always intent on self-improvement and had his own interests that didn't become his entire personality. There was a maturity to Dikotter that I appreciated and found common ground with - especially when it came to our discussions after we toured the Oh! Bento exhibit and Fortress and were sitting at a dessert bar for nigh on two hours.

Dikotter was a man that didn't just talk at me about his latest hyperfixation or how strange it was that he had such 'normie' work colleagues that didn't understand video games. Rather, he was much more introspective and was able to provide more thought-provoking questions than I'd expected.

In fact, I probably came off as the less intelligent of the pair of us as he asked what I might do if I had access to a billion dollars.

He also respected that I didn't feel comfortable talking about my job and we somehow ended up on a semi-serious conversation about dictators and the echoes of current China with Mao Zedong's Cultural Revolution.

Hence the codename.

We had both read Frank Dikotter's work on modern Chinese history. And that's not something I ever thought I would share with anyone I've met on any of my dates. Most of the time, I've had the same discourse on favourite video games as men try to think of something interesting to talk about without realising how quickly they limit themselves by making these things the dominant subject.

So, yes, meeting a fellow intellectual and one that knew how to dress well (or at least not in an unironed shirt and cargo pants) and was good at making conversation/ a lively debate on the pitfalls of socialism/ communism was something I most definitely appreciated even though I wasn't sure if we had any romantic chemistry.

Does this mean there might be hope for Dikotter? Maybe.

As yet, I'm still unsure where I swing when it comes to pursuing a relationship. Do I actually fancy the fairer sex? I, honestly, don't know. But I'm also hesitant to commit to Dikotter in saying that we'd be endgame.

A part of that may come from my ambivalence in terms of romantic relationships but I think that if we do become friends, it will definitely be a much more interesting partnership than I've known with most except on the odd occasion when I chat with individuals much older than I am and who have a wealth of life experience to draw on for their thoughts and opinions.

[danthinker]

The gender identities, ideologies and the survival of the humanity

(Dissappear for days, because I got nothing worthy to say, 'til now)

Well, well, well, we got here this thing, the LGBT phenomenon, and no, I didn't said anything wrong

The point of identifying yourself as a different gender that's isn't male of female is absurd, nonsensical and lacks of purpose in life. Non binary, helicopter, asexual, bigender, trigender, gender fluid, even those shits of transpecie and transcapacity that I know those aren't of gender, those are a worse shit.

Now, I'll explain all better, from left to right

Lesbian, Gay and Bisexual are totally accepted and have their reason to exist. With the homosexuality in general, is the counteracting of the overpopulation on Earth, and Bisexuality is basically freedom. There isn't a gen or a illness relationated with being homosexual or bisexual, in what I know (I'm not a scientist or a psicologist)

Transexuality is a curious thing, because it's related to an illness (even if the OMS wants to deny or camouflage it), The Gender Dysphoria. It's between a thin line of having or not a reason to exist; for a side we have a theory related to an apocalyptic future or a massive eradication of humans. The scenario is this: Imagine that after a nuclear war, a meteorite rain, a massive volcano eruption, a sudden movement of the tectonic plates, or any massive destruction event, the majority of one gender is destroyed, remaining less than the 5% of it; on that scenario, for restoring the balance of the humanity and the repopulation of an area, are needed many women or man to do it, there is where the transgenderism enters, acting as a solution to solve the issue, turning men into women, or women into men. And about the dysphoria, it's an illness, not a thing to be proud about, it's an illness; I have red about the experiences and feeling having that condition, and mentally simulating the situations, I sympathize with the people with that type of dysphoria, only if they don't make that as a thing to be proud about like the LGBT+ movement, only being proud of the self realization of themselves.

About the aroace / aromantic ones, that's practically "I'm not interested in having a relationship" resumed in a simple word, very ingenious if you ask me, but not for being considered the same as the LGBT+ does, maybe it could be included between the 'relationship status' options like marriaged and single, and many others. As a example, I could say I'm aromantic for now because I'm not looking actively for a couple or being in a relationship, I'm mainly focusing on myself, so, it's a pretty nice concept honesty.

Non binary and asexual... damn, why do this exist? I don't find any valid reason to use these, I mean, in biology, and in the entire human history, there have been ONLY 2 genders, male and female (including Trans male and Trans female), it's even inside the DNA, because biologically, the human is designed to form only two genders for surviving, and the cases when the genitals aren't well formed, those are anomalies, but it's always directed to the two genders existing, man and woman. Another thing, we aren't responsible of yout lack of capacity to define your gender for having to support and/or endure your insistence of "I'm non binary, accept me and validate me by changing the entire system", my friend, get help and define, are you a woman or a man?

If someone wants to argue with the discovery of a third gender in hieroglyphs in Egypt, have in mind that the society along the story, have been doing both good and bad things; about good things, the pyramids and ancient story in general, about bad things, defining important decisions by looking how a horse excrement dries.

Bigender, trigender, pangender and gender fluid... (*sigh*) this will be short.

Bigender and it's variants are illogical, you are one another.

Gender fluid it's like the non binary and asexual, you are one or another, don't try to fool me with that bad joke. Being composed 70% of water doesn't makes you to act like a fluid, clown.

Well, maybe that's all for that part of the post, maybe you should guess what could be my position to another things inside the LGBT+ movement, because I won't spend more braincells on investigating more foolishnesses that they create.

The action of promoting LBGT+ things to the kids should be a crime (ejem, Lightyear, ejem), because it just confuses them and fills their brain with an excess of information that could atrophy their logical thinking and self vision of themselves and the world. And it's just gross how the pedophiles infiltrate in the LGBT+ members and try to corrupt kids to be open to sexual activities when they aren't prepared for that, and even with those pride speeches and explicit demonstrations of grotesque activities like sadomasochism, flashing, pole dancing, wearing lingerie in public and explicit sexual activities in general. It's an awake nightmare to see that, poor kids.

I didn't said anything about the drag queens, because I'm not sure if they could enter here in the LGBT+, but I'll mention that even if men dress as women in a satiric and comic context, that neither can be shown to kids.

(Maybe later I'll make a post about fatness, body positive and fat phobia, spoiler, that last one doesn't exist)

Now, about the surviving of the humanity, all of the LGBT+ thing (except for the Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Trans and partially aroace) doesn't contributes to the surviving of the humans, only to more troubles. In wildness, you orientation or gender identity it's useless. Imagine if one day, you suddendly appear in an ancient time, even before the middle age society, and you are foumd by an indigenous that doesnt talk your language, and you have, for example, asexuality, and feel Trans men, here are the issues with that: not being attracted to any gender so you don't look to any person to relate with, so you reject sex with any person; second, you feel Trans men, but everybody see under your clothes your woman characteristics, they will treat you as a woman, and if you don't cooperate, they will think you are crazy and maybe sacrifice you as a defective person. Now of the situation is in the apocalyptic future where the 95% of women were eradicated, you would to contribute to the repopulation, and I'm sure they would be annoyed if you deny to help with that, because it's a situation of live or death, the preservation and survival of humanity. Now you see how problematic are the ideologies in the pure survival situations?

On the other side, of you demonstrate in the ancient village to be as capable as a man to do physical jobs, maybe you could act how you feel, but it's kinda risky. In the apocalyptic, if the 95% of men were eradicated, you could contribute, but only if at that point the science advanced so much, to be able to create fully funciontal genitals, a reconstruction of the skeleton, a reprogramming of the hormonal part of the brain and the development of the muscles, in other words, to almost reconstruct the body to be the opposite gender totally, and be like a person that were born with that gender originally, copying the functionality and making a perfect transition. Until that, we only need to wait, because it could be a very great advancement in the genetic technology, a step further to be as a god.

The Trans processes are very circumstantial, so I respect the ones that have been born with Dysphoria, I respect and I would help with their rights. But if those are just making a change of gender for attention and feeling deserved in a group with urgency, then I will give them the back and I'll make my business. Accepting a problem is the first step to progressing with it, and reaching a better yourself.

In resume, don't fuck your brain with ideologies, get help with the dysphoria and support actively people who were born with it, protect the kids from the LGBT+ movement, and wait until they have 18 years old, or they develop the enough mental maturity to understand those things and manage that knowledge. There are only two genders, don't try to create unnecessary new "genders" or weird things. We shouldn't be proud of a disability, but we should be proud of surpass them. The society should dissappear the discrimination to homosexual and transexual people, the real people that don't scrub "ACCEPT ME OR FUCK YOU!" in the face and implore to change laws in favor of them, the human adapts to the environment, not the environment to the human, or have you seen the poles make more ice? Or the rivers self cleaning the water?

Let's progress together, not only a group denominating themselves as "progressists" or "wokes", we need to contribute, not nail a stake in the middle of the society boat, causing a drain of patience by "getting attention" from everyone, instead nail a clove to reinforce the planks of logic thinking and become a support, not a charge to deal with.

I'm aware of the level of aggressive language I made use of in this post, but it's a very honest redaction that isn't decorated or simulated to be "I say it's not offensive but at the end it is", I talk how I feel to do, and I'll accept critism in the same level, only if it's woth objectivity, disposed to argue and debate about.

Without further adding, have a great day / evening / night

[leam1983]

Chameleon

Something about Sarah changes profoundly, when we get intimate. Something in the way the light catches her eyes, well outside of that particular myopic glint I know we both have.

Walter's interest in intimacy is fairly rooted into lust. We get effusive as Hell, but his spoken constants are telling: calling me delicious between kisses, calling me warm, calling me sweet; whereas Sarah's closer to how I operate. We're both anxious by nature and we constantly second-guess ourselves. It takes some work to get her to remove her defenses, some convincing her of her own innate strengths and worth. She the smartest woman I know, beating out the previous record-holder (my mother) and every bit the Litmus Test type of nerd you hear of pejoratively. However, she doesn't check boxes with me because she wants to define where I sit, but because she's looking to find out where she'll get to deep-dive. As we got closer, intimacy joined this set of topics and eventually allowed us to reach the point where we find ourselves.

It's strange, honestly. Walt genuinely loves my wilting legs, my little belly sag, my efforts to tame my own frame and my sometimes failing to resist certain temptations. He even loves the fact that I'm disabled, seeing as offering me physical support seems to appease some sort of head-of-the-family, patriarchal-not-in-the-negative-sense urge that he has. Walt's a gay guy who's always wanted a family, and Sarah just likes what's between my ears. Everything Walt dotes over, she doesn't care about. Again, I don't mean this negatively.

You know how I don't see race became seen as reductive to inclusivity efforts? I feel that on some level of interpretation, both it and "I don't see disability" also need to be seen as markers of inclusion. Love is a point where sexual orientation, creed, ethics or personal preferences are sort of eclipsed, to the point where you think that this exact person you love is worth basing the entirety of your relationship to them on the parts you see as being positive. That's what I mean when I say that Sarah doesn't see my disability. Acceptance would imply some sort of process, and she just - sidestepped it over a few years, as completely did my cane and my hugging the walls became normal to her.

And so, we talk. Walt would seal my mouth shut with his tongue, break the seal to let me breathe at regular intervals and otherwise moan inside me, hands pressing me close - and Sarah's more the type to keep our liplocks to brief respites between our hugging, chin-to-shoulder even as we're gyrating - and to ask me about whatever it she needs clarification on.

Last night, she had a weird mind-burp and flashed back to her History classes. She remembered the Egyptians' main military and socioeconomic rivals were the Hittites for a long while, but didn't remember much of their own structure, or which pharaoh finally bested them. Then it was back to strategies to use while playing Darktide, release being more of a hiccup for her than one of Walt's explosions of sensory bliss. Her breath halts, turns ragged, she quickly pants a few times even as her legs stiffen against mine - and then she relaxes. The come-down isn't too long, maybe twenty minutes at most, and then she trots either to the bathroom or to mine and Walt's bedroom.

She's slower with him - more exploratory. Walt is slightly more reserved with her than he is with me, letting her control the flow of it all. Raw need being less of a driving factor for these two, there's a sense of profound respect that's been instigated. She's the teacher, he's the pupil.

I'm the talker, between both of us guys. Sarah knows I'm up for bedside banter, and can play along with her need to open up somewhat. Walt's the "roll-over-and-snore" type - or the "cuddle-and-snore" type, in his case.

There's something to loving this woman, and to know she's finally met people she can openly depend on - something that feels unique. When it's the three of us together in bed, lust and love combine into a particularly potent mix. You can expect more effusiveness and a ton of cheerfully irrational comments by all parties involved.

"We'd survive well enough together, just the two of us," Walt once told me, "but Sarah is our bonding agent. You love the parts of her that make us feel youthful and capable, and I love the part of her that combines lover and daughter when I see her, as cringeworthy as it seems. If one of her parents showed up and demanded I give out one of my kidneys, I'd do it without hesitation."

She's getting better at this. Walt stifles a cry, bites at his cufflink on the right - all the while knowing he's seconds away from losing it - and finally goes slack, on a silent exit moan.

"One day," he sighs, "we're renting a cabin out in the woods and screaming ourselves hoarse under the covers."

She laughs and squirms closer. "I'd love that."

[kindtobechurlish]

I got my nose, and now I look at noses, I don’t want to have a kid and his nose is worse than mine. Ever since I learned about “coward”, I’ve been seeing some beautiful dark skinned women.. darker than me, and I feel a way and it’s weird. Now, I can show you species and in my patron, in my God, you see the condition I’m in. Your world leaders, even your favorite politician, they see me and say continue abuse. In order for them to talk to you, they need a stage or it’s a short clip where you can’t be, and all they do is tell you to vote so the technocracy can continue to enable itself. “We need immigration, jobs need to be filled”. So you have all of this growth, this supply and demand, and you are yoked by kikes. Some woman darker than me is a coward, and she wouldn’t want to do anything in “cult.” Whitey got a gun, and you don’t want him to have people just like him. Why? If you don’t have answers he might turn the gun on you or on inferior peoples. Now, you see all these people whitey shouldn’t be equal with. Do I need to define it by whitey? Now, whitey has the people who are equal with his race - and you attempt to make me into an animal as you want whitey gay. Whitey only considers women when I’m not gay, and opening asshole is a type of hate. “Kill them with kindness.” This is why I tell women good riddance.. whitey and his equals as I keep the laws of God; and, old people with their subjects, who can only give gifts, signal to me - harassment is me enablement.

I entreat a woman, the wanton thinks she’s a god/goddess. Many can’t understand “lay a plush cushion”, and why it’s fuck these leaders. Idiot wonton. Now, I don’t entreat.. I’m not precarious. No

[bitter-limelight]

Hey, I'm from outside of the community and genuinely want to learn about it. Are not we supposed to avoid "Fujoshi" because it fetishes and objectifies gay men?

Hello anon, thanks for dropping by!

So. I'm gonna start this with, I am a gay man. So I tend to think, uh, my opinion on this matters. And many gay men hold this opinion as well. Many don't. No group is a monolith and if you ask another gay man this question they will have another valid answer. But you asked for mine so here it is.

Fujoshi as modern fandom defines is, largely, a myth. All that a fujoshi is is a girl who read yaoi (or slash, gay fic etc). That's it. That's a fujoshi. Now, what fandom will say about fujoshi is that they are fan girls who, as you say, fetishize and objectify gay men or relationships. Common stories or tropes about fujoshi is that they are very rude and invasive to real queer men, want them to kiss or make out for their entertainment, are homophobic irl, are grossed out by lesbians, ask who the top/seme and bottom/uke are, etc. And you know. There are people like this. I've met a few. But the key word there is few. And I met these people when I was a teenager, and they were teenagers, in the early to late 2000s. It is my belief that the idea of the gross otaku fetishistic fujoshi is a dated stereotype by and large.

Part of your opinion on this rests on wether or not you think consuming porn of a certain type is objectifying or fetishizing. And I just don't think it is in and of itself. I just. Don't have a problem with girls getting off to fics about gay men. I really don't. I don't have a problem if a girl only likes or reads m/m content *provided she is a good person to real people*. Like, don't think that gay men are always like how they are in yaoi. Don't be grossed out by lesbians. Learn how to be an ally and you can consume all the gay shit you want. I prefer this over the days of "ew I didn't know this was a YOWEE STORY"

Women are shamed for everything, including their bodies and sexualities. Many girls enjoy m/m content because they can enjoy romance without comparing themselves with a perfect fictional woman. They don't have to fit the beauty standards of the main characters or worry that they aren't looking or acting like them.

And there's one more thing. There is AN AMOUNT of "straight yaoi fan girls" who turn out neither straight nor girls. Finding slash fic when I was a teenager was not only my gateway out of my homophobic upbringing but was the first step in me realizing I wasn't a straight girl, but a gay man.

In conclusion, leave fan girls alone. If they aren't treating real gay men badly or speaking for/over real gay men on issues about gay men then let them be.

[yasminbenoit]

“A Romantic Partner Won’t Complete Me, Because I Was Born Complete”: How Identifying As Asexual & Aromantic Brought Me True Freedom & Happiness | Yasmin Benoit for British Vogue

There is a phase in our lives where everyone seems asexual and almost everyone seems aromantic. It wasn't until puberty kicked in that platonic relationships seemed to take a backseat. My peers stopped wanting to play together and started wanting to 'date' each other. That was when I started to realise that there was something different about me. I didn’t seem to be experiencing the same urges as those I was around. I chose to go to an all girls school in the hopes that – in the absence of boys – everyone would stop caring about sex and dating. It actually had the opposite effect. There was a sense of deprivation in the air and the heightened desire to project their sexuality onto anything and everything.  

Therefore, my lack of interest became even more obvious, and it became a not-so-fun game to work out the source of what should be troubling me, but hadn’t been until that point. Having a sexual orientation isn’t just natural, it’s essential. It’s part of being a fully-functional human being. And to be romantically love and be loved by another is the ultimate goal. It’s part of being normal, which made me both abnormal and puzzling. When your asexual, people think there’s something wrong with your body. When you’re aromantic, they think there’s something wrong with your soul. Even for a teenage girl who internalised all of Disney Channel’s “be yourself” messages, it’s never nice to have people publicly debate your supposed physical and psychological flaws.  

My nickname in school was “hollow and emotionless.” I was a joker with a decent amount of friends, but I was lacking something crucial, the kind of love that really mattered and the kind of lust that made life exciting...so I was practically Lord Voldemort with braids. I sat through the regular DIY sexuality tests, having my peers show me graphic sexual imagery, have very sexual conversations in my presence, and ask me inappropriately intimate questions to gauge how far gone I truly was. These tests lead to the development of theories, most centred around me having some kind of mental problem. After a while, you start to wonder if everyone knows something you don’t.

When they said that I must have been molested as a child and “broken” by the trauma, I wondered if I had somehow forgotten about sexual abuse that actually hadn’t happened. I looked at some of my own relatives with suspicion, the same people who would later ask me if I didn’t experience sexual attraction because I was a pedophile. It was suggested that I was “suffering” from my “issues” because I was socially anxious and insecure. The suggestion that my ‘issue’ was pathological stayed with me for a long time, but not as much as the widely accepted theory that I was mentally slow. Unfortunately, that one stuck. I was referred to as “stupid” and I started to believe that was the case. It would impact my experience in education for the next eight years, long after I realised that there was a word for what I was.

Asexual.

I first heard the word during one of the near-daily sexuality tests that I was subjected to. I was asked if I was gay, to which I said that I wasn’t interested in anybody like that – men or women. At fifteen, I was asked, “Maybe you’re asexual or something?” but it wasn’t quite a lightbulb moment. How could it be when I had never heard the word outside of biology class? After an evening of Google searching, I realised that there were many people with my exact same experience, complete strangers whose stories sounded so strangely similar to mine. I also stumbled across the word ‘aromantic,’ but at the time, I didn’t understand the need for it. "Wouldn't all asexual people be aromantic? A romantic relationship without sex is just friendship with rules,” I thought.

Either way, my discoveries showed me that I wasn’t alone, but that only half helpful. I now had an identity that no one had heard of or understood. Most didn’t believe that being asexual or aromantic was a real thing, and I doubted it to. I had been taught to after years of armchair pathologisation. If asexuality was real, why did no one tell you that being sexually attracted to nobody was an option? What if it was just an internet identity made up to comfort people with all of the issues that had been attributed to me? I didn’t have to go far down the rabbit hole to realise that asexuality, like many non-heteronormative identities, had been medicalised. What I had experienced as just the tip of the iceberg. As someone who hadn’t been prescribed drugs I didn’t need or subjected to unnecessary hormone tests, I was one of the lucky ones.

My activism would be my gateway to the community. Despite being the ugly friend at school, I ended up becoming a model while in university. I decided to use the platform I had gained through my career to raise awareness for asexuality and aromanticism. It gave me the opportunity to encounter a range of asexual and aromantic offline, it was then that I learned the significance of having an aromantic identity. There are many asexual people who still feel romantic attraction, as well as aromantic people who still feel sexual attraction. They have their own range of experiences, their own culture, their own flag, and like the asexual community, I was relieved to see that they are just normal people. These intersecting communities are not stereotypes. They weren’t just thirteen year old, pink haired kids making up identities on Tumblr to feel special. They were parents, lawyers, academics, husbands, girlfriends, artists, black, white, young, old, with differing feelings towards the many complex elements of sexuality and intimacy. Most importantly, they were happy.

I am proud to be part of both, and I know that while being asexual and aromantic, I am a complete person and I can live a perfectly fulfilling life. Since meeting members of my communities, I’ve become more open about my identities in real life, and a reaction I’m often met with is sympathy. “You must feel like you’re missing out,” “I can’t imagine being like that,” “It must be hard for your family,” “Do you worry no one will want you?” “How do you handle being so lonely?” “You’re so brave and strong,” “What will you do with your life now?” Even in 2021, a woman who isn’t romantically loved or sexually desired by their “special someone” is perceived as being afflicted with some kind of life-limiting condition.  

Asexuality doesn't make undesirable or unable to desire others. It is a unique experience of sexuality, not a deprivation from it. Even if it was, there is so much more to life than what turns us on and what we do about it. Romantic love is just one form of love, neither superior nor inferior to any other. Being aromantic doesn't mean that you can't love or be loved, it does not mean you are void of other emotions or capabilities. I am not lonely with my friends, family, co-workers and supporters. I feel confident not when someone wants to date me but when I meet my goals and form worthwhile connections with others. My success isn't determined by whether someone will want to marry me someday. What we want out of life is our decision alone, our sources of happiness should not be defined by our ever-changing, culturally relative social standards. The love of a romantic partner won't complete me because I was born complete. Feeling sexual attraction to others won't liberate me because my liberation is not dependent on other people.

Valentine's Day is on the horizon. It's an occasion that amps up the focus on (and the pressure to achieve) a very specific type of love and sexual expression, one that is actually alienating for people inside and outside of the asexual community. During a pandemic where many relationships have been strained, tested, formed or distanced, it's important to keep the diversity of romantic and sexual feelings in mind. Many expect me to feel annoyed or lonely during this time of year, but I actually feel empowered and excited by the way sex, romance and love are discussed more deeply around this time. These conversations are constantly expanding to become more inclusive for everyone, and that's what we need to see all year round.

https://www.vogue.co.uk/arts-and-lifestyle/article/asexuality-and-aromanticism

[soupernatural]

a thesis statement regarding dean winchester’s sexuality

                                                    {x} boys keep swinging - david bowie

when you’re a boy / you can wear a uniform when you’re a boy / other boys check you out you get a girl / these are your favorite things

shake the disease - depeche mode

here is a plea from my heart to you nobody knows me as well as you do you know how hard it is for me to shake the disease that takes hold of my tongue in situations like these

verbatim - mother mother

what defines a straight man's straight? is it the boxer in the briefs or a 12 ounce steak? i tell you what a women loves most it's a man who can slap but can also stroke

sexuality - kd lang

shed the skin that’s held you in held you far too long now how bad could it be if you should fall in love with me

pretty boys and pretty girls - book of love

your warm body / is what i'm without i just close my eyes / and i dream about pretty boys and pretty girls

andrew in drag - the magnetic fields

i've always been a ladies' man and i don't have to brag but i become a momma's boy for andrew in drag

the bidding - tally hall

i've been to every continent broken all the hearts in every hemisphere and if i'm not the type of guy you like to circumvent just remember not to love me when i disa-

coin operated boy - the dresden dolls

can you extract me from my plastic fantasy i didn't think so but i'm still convincible oh will you persist even after i bet you a million dollars that i'll never love you and will you persist even after i kiss you goodbye for the last time will you be trying / to prove it I'm dying

damaged goods - gang of four

damaged goods / send ‘em back i can’t work, i can’t achieve send me back / open the till give me the change you said would do me good

fem in a black leather jacket - pansy division

i don't like macho, put it away doesn't appeal to me, straight or gay but i know a boy who catches my eye he don't act tough, why should he try?

i know what boys like - the waitresses

i know what guys like / i see them looking i make them want me / i like to tease them they want to touch me / i never let them

i wanna be a toy - dead or alive

i gotta bite my bottom lip / and clench my fist because a plaything’s what i must be i wanna be a toy i can’t be treated like no ordinary boy

i wanna be your slave - måneskin

i wanna be your sin / i wanna be a preacher i wanna make you love me then i wanna leave ya 'cause baby I'm your david / and you're my goliath

hit me like a man - the pretty reckless

hit me like a man, love me like a woman i am strong / love is evil it’s a version of perversion that is only for the lucky people take your time and do with me what you will

pretty on the inside - hole

is she ugly on the inside, baby? ugly, ugly from the back? there is no power / like my pretty power my pretty power / my ugly

bark like a god - sloppy jane

fixed my hair, lace underwear, i love the tie he's got on and amen to my friends for always keepin' it raw baby let's get down i wanna bark like a god

bite my hip - bauhaus

mine lives here, this is so hard you know i enjoy feeling pain, i enjoy feeling low you just nibble from my calf right down to my toe just as long as you get up and bite my hip

you drive me wild - the runaways

you know when you're close you really turn me on that's why i want you so bad when your gone, yeah come on, come on and take me home please stay with me and don't you leave me alone

[gashinabts]

philophobia|(m)

Words: 7.4k

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff, Mature

Summary: Taehyung, a man, who swears he’ll never fall in love meets Y/N a hopeless romantic.

Warnings: Teasing, spitting, oral (f/receiving), fingering, pussy slapping, pussy sniffing ( lmao idk if thats a thing?), squirting, sexual intercourse, mention of homophobia. Topics of child neglecting, if this makes you uncomfortable pls don’t read :) minor character death

A/N: Taehyung is a bisexual king! Tell me what you peeps think, remember that comments motivate me to continue writing!!! This is my work, no reposting this and my other works on any other platforms.

Kim Taehyung was born December 30, 1995 his father left him when he was 11 years old that is when Taehyung realized that love never lasts. His mother pretended that his father never existed, she quickly hid the family photos away, along with covering his tomato garden with dirt. Taehyung wanted to ask where he went but stopped wondering when he heard a few of his classmates whispering that Taehyung’s dad left them for a young woman in her twenties. 

As Taehyung grew into his teenage years he would often get asked out by his classmates, he wouldn’t decline, accepting the dates to see if he can ever fall foolishly in love like his Mom once did. However, nothing ever happened, he would kiss them goodnight but won’t call them the next day. In high school he lost his virginity at a party, he wasn’t nervous, just did things he’s seen in filthy pornorgraphy. The very next day the girl spread the rumor that Taehyung was a sex god, that he probably had sex everyday with a different people. Was that a compliment? He remembered thinking to himself as he sat in the back of the classroom, feeling people secretly stare at him. 

That day he met Jimin. Jimin was a popular boy that everyone swoon over. Of course he had a girlfriend, they have been dating since middle school. The guys would gawk at her when she would wear a sports bra to track practice. Taehyung was in art class sketching an apple, Jimin came over and talked to him as if they were friends. It was nice, Taehyung listened to Jimin complain about his art. When class was over, Jimin asked Taehyung to hang out with him after school. When Taehyung sat on Jimin’s bed, he looked over on the desk and saw a picture of Jimin and his girlfriend. Right next to it was a picture of what he assumed was Jimin’s family. A Mom, Dad, an older brother, and Jimin. He turned his gaze back to Jimin...who was undressing in front of him. Jimin’s underwear was the only thing on, Taehyung didn’t expect him to have lean muscles and define abs. An hour later  they were both breathless, exhausted from the sex. 

“ I’m not gay.” Jimin tells Taehyung as he cleans himself with a rag. 

“ Okay.” Taehyung shrugs and pulls his pants up. He’s watched gay porn and straight porn before and got turned on by both of them, so it doesn’t come to much of a surprise that he enjoyed the sex with Jimin. 

*******

Taehyung watches from afar when Jimin kisses his girlfriend in the school halls, wondering if that’s love. The next few months, Taehyung and Jimin fool around more. Jimin would call Taehyung over, then they would fuck and they would both be on their way. There were never conversations or pillow talks, until right now.

“ I’m gay.” Jimin confesses to Taehyung. 

“Cool.” Taehyung shrugs, looking for his shoes. 

“ That’s all your gonna say?” Jimin rolls his eyes grabbing his t-shirt wiping the come on his stomach. 

“ I’m bisexual, happy?” Taehyung looks at his phone and notices a missed call from his mother. He tucks his phone away, “ Why are you still with her? Your girlfriend.” He finally asks the question he’s been meaning to ask since the beginning.

“ I love her and I don’t want to hurt her, but I can’t love her like that.” Jimin looks at the picture of them and flips it down, almost ashamed of how much of a coward he is. “ Plus my Dad would kill me if I told him I like men.” He throws his head back looking at the ceiling not wanting to cry his eyes out. 

Taehyung thinks love is complicated, he thinks people who are in love are selfish. They rather hurt themselves for the sake of love. It’s stupid he wants to tell Jimin that but he keeps quiet until Jimin looks at him with tears eyes. “ I don’t know what to say…”

“It’s fine...you don’t have to say anything just keep me company, yeah?” 

“ Okay,” Taehyung sits back on the bed watching but not really watching tv with Jimin. 

---

Taehyung’s mom was proud of him when he got accepted to a good college, she would brag to her friends and show pictures of his acceptance letters. Along with bragging how she raised Taehyung all by herself. Taehyung didn’t mind that he was in the spotlight, whatever made his mom happy he would comply with whatever she does. He was good with numbers so he was going to major in data analysis, he really wanted to major in art but his mom laughed in his face, telling him to be realistic. 

Taehyung is now in his third year of college, wanting to just graduate already, done with the shitload of classwork and long ass lectures. Just right now he just finished his homework that took him three hours. He’s about to call it a night until Jungkook barges in his room, yelling at him to get dressed for a party. Taehyung switches his dirty hoodie with a clean hoodie, opting out grey sweatpants with jeans. He keeps his glasses on, due to his eyes being tired and not wanting to irritate them with contacts. 

Jungkook hands Taehyung a drink, there’s obscene music, blunts being handed around, and people grinding on each other. “ When’s the last time you got laid?” Jungkook asked, as he took a gulp of his beer.

“ Last week...I think.” Taehyung searches through his mental sex list, but can’t seem to remember the girls face or name. He looks around and watches a couple argue with each other. The man rolls his eyes as the woman tries not to cry, the woman ends up leaving him and going upstairs.

“ Damn, lucky. I tried to hook up with this girl and she ended up leaving me hanging. Claimed that she’s not over her boyfriend, started crying on me when I was going down on her.” Jungkook cringes, sipping more alcohol. “ Be my wingman, yeah?” 

“ Sure,” Taehyung nods. Jungkook is talking to this pretty girl, and she laughs at every joke that Jungkook makes. Taehyung wasn’t even sure why he asked him to his wingman when Jungkook can easily get a girl to bed. Jungkook nods absentmindedly when Taehyung excuses himself, he wanders around the frat house looking at people getting wasted. Once he gets tired of it he goes upstairs, hoping to find solace in an empty room. He opens a bedroom door, and notices a girl with a pencil and notebook. “ My bad-,” Taehyung is about to close the door.

You look up from your sketchpad, you see a tall man with messy curls and glasses. “ You can stay,” you observe him, he looks like he was forced to come here. There’s no red solo cup in his hand, he looks like he hasn’t a good night's rest. Also why else would he look mindlessly into rooms, the bathroom doors have a handwritten sign stating ‘BATHROOM’, so he must be bored or something searching into bedrooms. “ Or don’t. I don’t care.” You watch him close the door, entering the room.

“ Is this your room?” Taehyung looks around the room, noticing posters of naked women and marvel posters. Weird combination he notes. Along with the dirty clothes scattered all over the floor. 

“ No,” you laugh. Shutting your notebook close, taking notice of his nice hands brushing his hair back. “ My friend’s room. I didn’t really feel like partying just decided to sketch,” you lift your pad up. He nods and sits on the bed.

“ Can I draw?” Taehyung points towards the sketchpad. He hasn’t drawn in months too busy in his schoolwork, his fingers would sometimes draw on foggy windows but nothing more. You nod tearing a piece of paper out and handing him a pencil, he thanks you. 

You were sneakily glancing at him, sketching him, his angular jaw, messing hair, uneven eyelid, long eyelashes. Getting lost at his elegant features, wondering if he knows how beautiful he looks. You shake your head for easily fawning over this man. His hands are even beautiful, they travel across the paper gracefully with each stroke. You turn your eyes away when he makes eye contact with you, cheeks getting warm. “ What’s your name?” You ask while shading the contours of his cheeks.

“ Taehyung.” He folded his paper into a small square, putting it into his pocket. “ Yours?”

“ Y/N,” you smile.

---

“ Did you get laid yesterday night?” Jungkook is shirtless with scratch marks behind his back, there’s a couple of hickies on his neck.

Taehyung takes a sip of his tea before answering, “No, just talking to some girl. Her name is Y/N.” 

“ Y/N. She’s a nice girl. One time I forgot a scantron for class and she gave me one. She’s also friends with Namjoon.” Jungkook pours himself coffee sitting next to Taehyung. “ Are you interested in her?”

Taehyung would be lying if said he wasn’t interested in you. When he entered the room he thought you were pretty and had a kind smile. “ Maybe...why?” 

“ It’s best if you don’t try to get at her. Y/N looks the type to fall in love easily.” Jungkook sighs cracking his back on the back of the chair, groaning at his achy body. Taehyung wonders how can someone fall in love easily, he’s not one to believe in love at first sight or any kind of stuff in that realm. “ Alright, I’m gonna take a quick shower and then we can leave.” 

Taehyung and Jungkook are at the library studying or trying to study, Jungkook is texting someone the whole time instead of studying for his macroeconimics test. While Taehyung is playing video games on his phone. “ Hey guys! Didn’t know you actually study Jungkook,” Namjoon jokes, ruffling Jungkook’s hair. Jungkook rolls his eyes pushing his hand off his head mumbling curse words at him. Taehyung looks to the side of Namjoon and notices you laughing as the scene unfolds. You’re carrying ice americanos and Jungkook immediately takes it out of the carrier, thanking you. 

You look at Taehyung placing one in front of him, “ I didn’t know what kind of coffee you liked.” Taehyung is wearing similar clothing to what he wore at the party, mostly muted green colors and his circle glasses, his hair is pushed back with a headband. He looks surprised to see you, but nevertheless thanks you for the coffee. The conversations between Jungkook and Namjoon get more serious when they finally decide to study for their materials. You try to study but you want to talk to Taehyung wanting to get to know him more, you nudge your foot against his leg. He looks up, looking at you in question, you nod your head towards the exit entrance, he nods slowly unsure to what you're up to but following your lead. Jungkook and Namjoon are too invested in their studying to see you and Taehyung leave. “ Do you wanna go to my apartment?”

“ Sure,” Taehyung shrugs. The apartment was small and kind of messy, you try to hurry up and toss some of the paintbrushes in the sink. There’s water cups filled with murky colors, and paint marks on the tables, he’s not used to a sight like this. In his apartment it is always clean and tidy, not a dirty plate in sight. “ You live by yourself?” he asked, placing his stuff on the table. 

“ Yeah, my roommate moved four months ago with her boyfriend.” You give up cleaning the mess since there’s too much to clean. “ Want some-” You are interrupted when you feel Taehyung’s lips on your, your hands push his chest flustered at the sudden kiss.

“ I-I- sorry...I must have read something wrong,” he looks embarrassed immediately backing up giving you space. “ I thought you invited me to your apartment for sex.” Taehyung notices how your eyes widen, fuck he feels like an ass, scared that he made you uncomfortable. “ I should go…” he goes to pick up his bags ready to bolt out.

“ I just wanted to talk...to get to know you better,” you speak before his hands grab the doorknob. “ We can paint and talk, if that's okay with you?” 

“ Are you sure? You don’t want me to leave?” 

“ Stay.” You go to the sink to wash your dirty brushes. 

Taehyung sits down looking at the wall, notices a canvas of a man, he has plump lips, gentle eyes, overall he is beautiful, something that seemed out of this world. Maybe it was the way it was painted that made it appear like that. “ You painted that?” Taehyung speaks shifting his gaze to you.

You look at where Taehyung was pointing at, it was the painting of your ex boyfriend, “ Yeah, that’s my ex boyfriend, Seokjin. The professor told us to paint the definition of love…,” you stare at Seokjin’s face, remembering the memories you shared. The brushes are all cleaned and you set them down, grabbing some water colors that are in the cabinet. 

“ Do you still love him?” Taehyung curiously asked, watching carefully at your reaction.

There’s a slight pain of thinking about him, truly not over his death. “ Yeah I’ll always have love for him…” 

Taehyung wants to ask more about him but doesn’t want to intrude, he doesn’t say anything else but paints. This is when Taehyung feels like he’s truly being himself painting, expressing himself without saying anything. Moments like these wish Taehyung would’ve chosen doing what he has a passion for insteading appealing to his mothers standards. 

“ Why are you a data analysis major?” The artwork he is doing is remarkable, there’s dark undertones and eerie about it but it is beautiful something that you have to keep staring at.

He chuckles, “ Because I need to eat.” You look down feeling a little insulted he must've noticed since he immediately apologizes. 

“ It’s okay. You know if you ever want to relax and paint, you can come here,” you continue painting small flowers. The first time, he smiles and nods his head.

---

5 months later

This is the third flower shop visited and he’s getting more tired with each second. “ This arrangement or this one?” You ask Taehyung, as you hold two bouquets. One was more filled with carnations and the other was filled with lilies. He gives it some thought before pointing at the carnations. “ This would be pretty to paint,” you smell it getting happy inside.

“ Finally, when can we eat...I didn't eat anything this morning,” his stomach growls at the thought of food. He’s still carrying the vases you bought at the thrift shop, you had to plead with you to not buy another antique mirror because he knows he would have to carry it to the apartment.

You gave the cashier the money, as he wraps the flowers in newspaper, turning your head you look at Taehyung, “ Why did you come with me if you were going to complain the whole time?” You laugh at his scrunched nose as you pinch it. The flowers are handed back and you thank the cashier, leaving with Taehyung.

“ Because I wanted to,” Taehyung shrugs. In your apartment he puts the flowers away as you cook him food, he always enjoys your cooking. When he was younger all he ever ate was ramen, never really ate some home cooked meals, his mother was always busy working trying to financially support the family so he never once asked his mom for dinner. Even at his own apartment he doesn’t eat Jungkook’s food since he doesn’t know how to cook either. Sometimes when he’s hungry he’ll just come to your apartment and you’ll be more than happy to cook for him.

When Taehyung enters his apartment Jungkook is watching anime, foot propped on the table and sipping some beer. “ Back from your girlfriends’ so soon?” 

“ Not my girlfriend but yeah, I left my schoolwork here so I had to come back,” he sighs. Taehyung doesn’t get mad when Jungkook teases him about you being his girlfriend, but he sometimes gets annoyed. He likes the friendship between the two of you, it’s different from any other friendships he had in the past. “ Tomorrow night the apartment is mine. This guy wants to hangout with me.”

“ Just say he wants to fuck you,” Jungkook yells as Taehyung closes his bedroom door. 

---

You meet Taehyung at the park with some bread, he hugs you and asks about your day. “ It was okay. Had lunch with my Dad, but it always ends up in some lecture. I swear, sometimes it feels like I’m fifteen or something,” you tear a piece of bread throwing it into the pond watching some ducks gobble it. You try to look at Taehyung but it hurts when you see some hickies on his neck. On the day you were about to confess your feelings to Taehyung you asked him if he ever loved someone, he laughed and said that he doesn’t believe in no such thing as love. As much as you wanted to disapprove of that idea, you couldn’t be the one to change it.

He grabs some bread, chucking some pieces out, “ What was the argument?”

You laugh thinking about your Dad’s red face, “ I invited him to my apartment, and he found the blunt we smoked together in the ashtray.”

“ Shit, I should’ve thrown it away,” Taehyung laughs too, pushing some of his hair back. 

“ Just glad he didn’t find any of my sex toys,” you cringe just thinking about it. You feel something tugging the end of your skirt, looking down you see a toddler smiling cheekily pointing at the bread. You smile, “ Here, have fun,” you hand him the rest of your bread. You watch him wobble as he runs to his mother throwing the whole slice in the water. 

“ Sex toys?” Taehyung asked once the child was out of sight. “ Like what?,” Taehyung is interested, he doesn’t know, maybe because he can’t imagine you using them. Or he wants to know how you use it. There were times when Taehyung wanted to have sex with you but he turned those urges off. He doesn’t want to give you mixed signals remembering Jungkook’s words of advice. “ Never-”

“ A dildo, vibrator, hitachi wand, or even my favorite pillow,” you trail off not thinking much until you realize who you are confessing to. “ I-I uh…”

“ How often?,” Taehyung asked quietly, not wanting any other people hearing the conversation. He shouldn’t get turned on but he is.

Something about Taehyung’s deep quiet voice is making you squeeze your thighs, “ Every night…” You're still looking at the pond, watching the ripples that are caused by the ducks swimming away. You can feel Taehyung's stare but you ignore it. The conversation switches to another topic when you talk about your school work. The sun sets and you both part ways.

The sound of tea kettle wakes you up from your concentration of you sketching, sighing you pour yourself the tea. Looking at your art, you turn it over not wanting to see Taehyung’s face right now. But fate has different plans when you hear knocking on the door, Taehyung appears, he lets himself in and is close to your face.

“ Taehyung?” You’re puzzled at his frazzled state, deeply staring into your eyes. 

“ Can I kiss you?” The words are quiet but firm. Stupidly you nod, not caring about any consequences. His hands cup your face, immediately going into the kiss. The kisses get deeper, his hands travel to your hips bringing you closer to him quickly, you lose friction from the fluffy socks you're wearing causing you to slip, immediately grabbing Taehyung as you fall backwards. His hands are quick to save himself from not falling onto you. There’s a slight pain on your tailbone but is immediately forgotten when Taehyung goes back to kissing you.

The big t-shirt you are wearing is tossed, his hands immediately fondle your breast, his lips leaving kisses on your neck, groaning as he pushes his bulge against your clothed core. “ Taehyung...let me touch you,” you moan when he bites your neck. He pulls back, pecking your lips before taking off his clothes. Your hands trail against his chest, his stomach, towards his pelvic, trying to remember every part of him. He is surprised to have you touching him like he was some marvel statue, usually his past hookups just rush into the sex. It’s very intimate and he doesn’t know how to feel about it.

 Taehyung groans when you touch his dick, he’s hard and wants to be inside of you already. He comes down kissing you, his hands get rid of your panties, fingers spreading your wetness. The moans you let out are turning him on even more, he stretches you out with his fingers. He likes the way your eyes flutter, the shape of your lips tremble, along with your chest inhaling and exhaling deeply. “ You are so pretty,” he doesn’t mean to say it loudly but he does. There’s a blush that blooms on your cheeks, it reminds him of the flowers you would get to study paint.

“ Taehyung,” you moan slightly flustered at his compliment. He reaches for his pants grabbing a condom. “ You don’t want to go to the bedroom?” The floor is still cold against your back, and the last time you cleaned the floor was days ago. 

Taehyung shakes head, already putting on the condom not wanting to waste time, “ Too far,” he smiles when you laugh. He enters you feeling you clench tightly around, he moans digging his head into your neck. “ You are so tight,” he groans. “ Feels so fucking good, having you like this,” he confesses.

You moan loudly, his thick cock streching “ Oh fuck, Taehyung, please just fuck me,” your hands go to his waist urging him to move. He listens to your command, thrusting slowly trying to get deep as he can. Maybe if you can close your eyes you can pretend that he’s in love with you. He goes faster and cries at the pace he’s going, the pleasure is overwhelming, something that you can’t get with your own hands. “ I’m close already,” your hand goes to tug at his wavy hair.

“ Me too,” his voice is deeper. His hand travels down to your pussy searching for your clit and rubbing it. “ Come for me,” he says into your ear. You moan his name loudly, cumming around his cock, scratching his back. The sight of you creaming around him makes him immediately come, he searches for your lips, moaning your name in the kiss. The two of you lay in the afterglow of the sex, panting loudly his body is barely being hold up, and you laying on the hard floor.

Taehyung gets up throwing his condom away, he looks at you still laying on the floor with your eyes close, the realization of him having sex with you just popped up. He hurriedly gets dressed, then helps you get dressed, he gets shocked when you kiss him as a thank you. The next morning Taehyung wakes up early, making sure to leave quietly, not wanting to disrupt your sleep.

---

You weren’t going to lie, it kind of hurt not waking up beside Taehyung but you shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up. Namjoon invites you to a kick back, only inviting a few people to his house to chill and drink. You take solace on the couch, watching people get high and drunk, you weren’t in the mood to do either so you make conversation with a slightly high Hoseok. He’s in mid-discussion about Shrek being a cinematic masterpiece, when Jungkook yells from the door entrance that he has Taco Bell. Taehyung is beside him wearing all black beanie, crewneck, and sweatpants, but still looks better than half of the people here.

 You turn your gaze back to Hoseok who’s left walking towards Jungkook immediately grabbing a taco. Sighing you decide to get fresh air, staring at the tall dark buildings. “ Whatcha you doing here by yourself? It’s fucking freezing,” Taehyung speaks out closing the slider door standing by you. He takes off his vape pen inhaling it.

“ Wanted fresh air,” you shrug, still staring at the buildings. “ Hoseok left me for tacos. He was onto something, saying that Shrek is a masterpiece. Who knows maybe he’ll write his thesis about it.” Taehyung chuckles, he keeps looking at you and you finally stare at him. “ Why’d you kiss me yesterday?”

He blows out the smoke, and puts his pen away, “ Cuz I wanted to,” he shrugs not thinking much about it. 

“ Nothing else?” You arch your eyebrow.

He continues to stare into your eyes “ Nope,” he shakes his head.  

Some part of you wanted him to say that he had feelings for you but in the back of your mind you knew that wasn’t going to happen. You smile pushing his chest, “ Well that’s the last time we are ever going to do anything like that.” The both of you know that is a lie.

---

For the next couple of months you and Taehyung continue sleeping with each other.

When you are studying with Namjoon in the library, Jungkook and Taehyung spontaneously show up, causing Namjoon to groan. “ You know you love me,” Jungkook jokingly says sitting next to him. 

Taehyung sits down next to you, looking at your classwork, “ How long have you been studying,” he whispers. 

You turn to look at the time of your phone, “ Like four hours,” you sigh. He hands you a jolly rancher, you immediately put in your mouth. “ Why are you here? You texted me that you were going to take a fat ass nap?”

“ I wanted to see you, kind of missed you,” he lays his head against the table. His eyes close when you brush his soft hair. 

“ I’ll be done in forty minutes.” He lets off a quiet okay continuing to look at you doing your work. 

Taehyung wakes up to you caressing his cheek, his neck is in pain from the awkward position he slept in. “ Where did Jungkook and Namjoon go?,” he looks at the empty seats. He tries to crack his neck and watches you pack your stuff.

“ They left about twenty minutes ago,” you get up stretching your legs. “ Let’s head home. We still have left over pizza,” you groan at the pain on your lower back. 

For some odd reason Taehyung liked hearing you say home, there’s some comfort it gives him but he never says it out loud. Taehyung grabs your backpack, holding it for you as you walk towards your car. You look in the fridge for the pizza, but Taehyung has other plans when he closes the fridge door, pinning you against it kissing you feverishly, his tongue already begging for entrance. Laughing you push him away, “ What’s gotten into you?”

“ I told you...I miss you,” his hands are on your waist. He kisses you again, picking you up easily and placing you on the kitchen table. He takes off your pants and panties, and you reach for his pants but he stops you forcing you to lie completely on the table. “ Look at you, laying so pretty on the table,” he bends down kissing you on your lips before he goes down on you. 

He licks your cunt, gently prodding his tongue up and down. Your hips move frantically wanting to feel more of him. His rough hands pin your hips, and he continues with his teasing, lightly kissing your clit before touring you with his slow pace.  “ Look at your pussy, it looks like the roses you painted yesterday…,” his finger goes up and down your folds.

The words make your cheeks grow hot, “ No it doesn’t,” you get shy shaking your head. The embarrassment fills your body, for maybe shamelessly liking his compliment. You are probably never going to look at roses the same way ever again.

“ Yeah, it does Y/N, but your pussy is more pretty,” he continues to tease you. Wanting to see you get more flustered, he likes it when you do it gets him more turned on. “ I wonder if it smells like roses too,” he’s about to smell your pussy but you hold his head. He watches you cutely shake your head. 

Taehyung is filthy but it makes you get even more aroused. “ It won’t,” you whisper, wanting to cry but he shakes his kissing the inside of your thigh to try to comfort you. 

He smells your pussy and he groans, your heart thumps faster and nervous for what's about to say, “ It smells better,” he kisses your clit. His tongue keeps tracing your folds gently wanting to make you beg for more. The movement of his tongue makes you want to pull your own hair out. The pleasure is barely there but it grows within each second of his tongue flicking up and down.

“ Taehyung,” you let out desperate whine, “ please, I need more.” One of his hands slap your cunt, and your back arches surprise but even more turned on. You never knew that you were into that. The sting hurts at first but shoots up ecstasy after a nanosecond, you can’t help but seek more. “ More!” 

Taehyung lets out a dark chuckle, he gives you another slap, slightly harder on the center of your clit, the stinging making your face scrunch up but letting out a lewd moan. He groans at your wetness seeping out some of it landing on the table.

Suddenly, he is done with all the teasing, and dives in, nose touching your clit and tongue inside your entrance going in and out. Finding it extremely hot that you are riding his face, like the pillow on your bed. Taehyung vividly remembers when you showed him how you ride your pillow last week. The way you desperately let out cute whines trying so hard to relieve yourself as Taehyung only watched, wanting to see you get off without his help. 

He moves his face side to side so his nose can rub your clit. Head in the clouds, your body is floating with ecstasy wanting to stay in it forever. Your hands reach down trying to anchor yourself, Taehyung reaches for your hand holding it tight. You cry out his name loudly, coming intensely, your eyes are shut when it doesn’t seem to stop. Your body finally calms down, looking down you see Taehyung’s face is completely wet. “ Oh my god, did I-

“ Fuck, that was hot,” Taehyung wipes his face with the back his arm. He kisses your lips, he helps you from the table, handing you your panties. 

“ Let me repay you?,” you tug at his belt loop, you look down to see the bulge is gone and there’s a wet stain. Your eyes widen, “ Did you come?”

“ Yeah, you squirting on me, made me bust a nut. I swore I never came that hard either,” he sighs happily. Laughing you go towards the fridge, finally eating the cold pizza. You hand him one and he eats it in two bites. “ My mom called me today…”

Taehyung hardly talks about his family, you only know that he was raised only by his mother. He never talked bad about her but you can tell that they didn’t have a close  relationship. “ What happened?” You and Taehyung move so you're sitting on the couch.

“ She told me that my father wanted to meet up with me,” Taehyung rolls his eyes. “ Told her that I don’t want to. She started crying and telling me that he’s my father...I sometimes think she’s still in love with him. She’s an idiot.” He lays his back staring at the ceiling.

“ Sometimes it’s hard to get over someone that you once loved. The one you shared your laughs, arguments, touches, memories...vanish into thin air... or you could hold onto it. Love isn’t easy...it’s messy, it’s confusing but it’s beautiful being able to share it with someone. Don’t you think?” You look at Taehyung’s side profile.

Taehyung turns his head looking at you, “ I don’t know...I will never fall in love. I don’t want to end up like my parents,” he closes his eyes.

“ Taehyung-“

He opens his eyes smiling, grabbing your hands, “ Let’s head to bed,” already over the conversation. 

---

Jungkook is cooking breakfast and almost burns his hand when a random girl walks out of Taehyung’s room. Immediately she exits their apartment, doing the walk of shame. Taehyung walks out shirtless with hickies on his chest and dishevelled hair. Jungkook clears his throat, “ Thought you were seeing Y/N,” he turns off the stove.

Taehyung grabs a glass of water, “ We are just friends,” he takes several gulps.

Jungkook scoffs rolling his eyes at his friend’s stupidity, “ Yeah, friends who have sex, hold hands, and almost spend every night together. My bad I forgot they changed the definition of ‘friends’ in the Webster dictionary.”

“ Whatever man...I'm out of here,” Taehyung leaves the kitchen going to his room. He looks at himself in the mirror, disgusted at his appearance, at the splotchy marks on his neck. Why am I like this? Taehyung leaves his apartment ignoring Jungkook, entering your apartment with his set of keys. He looks at you cooking pancakes, you look at him quickly and smiling.

“ Hey...you want some? It’s your favorite banana pancakes,” you flip the pancake. He looks at the big stack of pancakes you have on the table, you continue with the last couple of pancakes and sit down taking a couple of bites. You are consumed by the taste, not really focusing on Taehyung until he clears his throat, looking at him you notice marks on his neck. Your heart plummets, you thought the whole time the two of you have been messing around he wasn’t seeing anyone else. “ You hooked up with someone else yesterday?,” you set your utensils down.

Taehyung nods trying to look nonchalant, “ Yeah, is that a problem?” 

“ No,” you try to lie to yourself but it’s no use, your face looks the opposite of how you feel, disheartening, you can’t save face even if your life's on the line. Swallowing hard you shake your head, “ Actually, yes. It is a problem,” you sigh. “ I don’t understand you. You treat me like a lover, but then you do things like this…” you get up from the kitchen table tossing the plates in the sink, not caring that you didn’t finish the meal, “ I open my heart with you but you don’t do the same. I feel used in this relationship or whatever the hell this is,” your hands clenched tightly as you turn around and face Taehyung.

He’s now by the kitchen counter standing up, “ I told you I’m not looking for love. I’m sorry if I gave you mixed feelings but I don’t want this to end whatever we have with each other. I like how things are-”

You scoff, rolling your eyes at his words, “ Well I don’t...if you want to fuck around then do it... I’m not going to care for you like I love you anymore.” The angry tears stream down your face, your hands wipe them before he could, “ Go Taehyung. I wish you the best,” his face is etched with subtle pain, turning away from him you wash the dishes not bothering to look at the sound of him leaving.

---

Three days later

Taehyung hasn’t been sleeping well, tossing and turning, giving up completely and decides to study all night long. This has been a daily occurrence since the fight with you. I’m not going to care for you like I love you anymore. Taehyung groans, wanting to get the image of you out of his brain. Jungkook knocks on his door, eyes widening at the sight of him, “ You look like shit, c’mon Namjoon is having another get together.”

When Taehyung shows up to the party he watches you have a conversation with Hoseok, from a far distant, unsure how you would react if you saw him. Taehyung waits till Hoseok leaves, walking towards you as you are on your phone texting someone. He watches you jolt as he calls your name. “ Hey,” you greet him but there’s no smile or warmth like you usually greet. And he hates it, it makes him feel like a stranger.

“ About the last time, I’m sorry that we got into an argument,” Taehyung apologizes, he tucks his hands in his pockets, a nervous tick he developed when he was elementary. 

“ Ok,” you nod your head, not wanting to discuss something so private in a social setting. “ I should get going, I got a research paper to go over,” you give him one last glance and leave, not saying goodbye to anyone else.

Taehyung doesn’t like the way your back faces him, leaving him all alone with a place full of people. He pushes against people not wanting to let you go so easily, he wants to talk to you, he wants to hear you talk. He wants to lay in your bed and listen to your heart beat while you stroke his hair, letting him fall asleep in your arms. You're opening your car door, and you halt when he calls your name, you wait patiently for what he’s going to say. Please stay.  “ I-I uh...I wish you the best, Y/N” Taehyung says. He watches you give him one last small smile and drive away. 

---

Six months later

Taehyung hates visiting his mother, there’s always something unsettling when he enters his childhood home. As soon as greets his mother she comments about his weight, his slightly long wavy hair, and baggy clothes. She doesn’t ask him college, she never does. Instead he listens to her talk about her work. “ I told your father that you're in town,” she says over the sound of the faucet. Taehyung nods, handing her the dirty dishes, “ I told him you are free tomorrow, you are going to visit him at IHOP,” she leaves no room for argument. 

The sun wakes up Taehyung before his alarm does, he doesn’t really put in effort to look nice but when his mother gives him a look, he changes into something more appropriate. Maybe if Taehyung was in middle school he would be nervous meeting his father but now that he’s an adult he couldn’t care less. It takes him a while to find his father, he looks older from his adolescent years, has a few gray hairs and slightly wrinkled skin. His father stands up, and Taehyung immediately holds his hand out giving him a handshake not wanting to receive an awkward hug. His father looks surprised but compiles, awkwardly laughing and sits down taking a gulp of his hot black coffee. “ I ordered your favorite,” his father points to the triple drizzle chocolate milkshake with a red cherry on top that is set in front of Taehyung. “ How are you kiddo? You look so grown up, your mother has been feeding you well, huh?”

“ Yup.” Taehyung looks at the red cherry. 

There’s too much uncomfortable tension, and his father is letting more awkward coughs to try to fill the silence. “ Almost done with college, yeah? Just three more months, and you gotta face the real world,” his father comments.

Taehyung has been facing the real world since he was a teenager, he worked when he was in highschool to pay for college, he cooked his own dinner because his mother always came home late, he didn’t need to graduate college to find out the world was shitty. “ Yeah.”

His father tries really hard to have some sort of conversation with his son.“ You still like to paint?”

Taehyung smiles, getting reminded of you. He wonders what you are doing right now, if you are painting the canvas he bought you when you guys were friends. “ No. I mean yeah, sorta. I painted with this girl, she made me fall back in love with painting but I did something horrible to her. Now I can’t paint without thinking about her,” he sighs. 

There’s surprise etched on his father’s face, since more than a word came out of his son’s mouth. “ Seems like a very important person to you. You should talk things out with her, don’t want to lose someone like that.” 

Taehyung rolls his eyes, “ Why? You did the same thing to us.”

“ Taehyung-”

“ You really fucked me up father, I hate that you and mom made me this way. I want to love her but I’m scared...what if she ends up leaving me like you did. I rather be alone for the rest of my life than to have someone steal a part of me,” Taehyung grits his teeth.

“ I-I I’m sorry Taehyung...I really am. I hate myself everyday for not visiting you, I should’ve been there for you...Your mother and I once loved each other but sometimes people fall out of love, but that doesn’t mean love is evil. Don’t give up on love because of our failed marriage, son, you deserve to be in love.”

---

One week later

“ Fuck, watch where you going asshole,” you yell at the asshole who wasn’t paying attention that made you drop all of your art supplies. He doesn’t even bother apologizing, just continues to walk with his friends. You pick up your pencils, someone helps you pick up your other materials. “ Thank-” you stop midway when your eyes are met with Taehyung. He hands you the sketchpads, you quickly put it in your bag, “ Thanks.”

“ No problem. You just got out of class?,” he asked intently looking at you.

His hair is pushed back by his headband, showing his forehead, he’s wearing his usual baggy grandpa clothes. It makes your heart flutter, but you quickly push the feeling away. “ Yeah, but I have to go back to pick up my two pieces,” you shrug. 

“ You need a hand?” He offers with a careful smile.

You contemplate, you don’t want to make two trips, “ If you’re not busy…”

He eagerly shakes his head. “ I’m not, let me help.” Taehyung follows you to the art room, and picks up the pieces easily despite it being large canvases. There’s silence when you are done putting it in your car. 

“ Thank you,” you give him a grateful smile. “ Do you need to ride home?”

Taehyung took his car to campus but he lies, he accepts your offer in hopes that you guys can talk things over. The radio is on low, and Taehyung is almost near his apartment, “ I lied I don’t need a ride,” he starts off and you let out a surprise laugh.

“ Why are you just telling me now?,” you are about two minutes from the destination. 

“ I wanted to talk to you about what happened to us-”

You sigh, not wanting to reopen bandage wounds on your heart, “ Taehyung, I’m over it-” 

His head turns to face you, “ I love you. I think I always loved you since we became friends. I was scared to tell you because it was something so new for me...I was selfish, I thought that everything we had was fine but I never took your feelings into consideration.” He’s breathing really hard because he finally confessed his heart out, something he vowed he’ll never do since he was a child. 

“ Why? Why now?,” you swallow hard, not looking at him but only the road. Scared that if you look into his eyes, you’ll get lost into them. 

“ It took me a while to come in terms with how I am feeling. Because love is messy right?,” his voice cracks.

The car is now parked in his driveway, “ Yeah, it is.” Turning to finally face him, he has little tears in his eyes that haven’t fallen. “ I still love you, Taehyung,” your hand touches his soft cheek, caressing it. Taehyung leans closer to you and you close your eyes expecting a kiss, instead he sobs against your neck. Feeling wet tears against your neck, you try to coddle him but the tight space in the car is not giving you any room to do so. “ Tae, why are you crying?,” you comb the back of his curls.

Taehyung pulls away giving you a tearful smile, “ Because for the first time in my life I know what love is.”

end.

[texanredrose]

Prep and Goth

Day 1: Enemies to Lovers/Secret Library Time

---

Weiss stared at the clock, mentally urging the second hand to move faster. The transition between this period and the next always took the longest- or at least it felt like time slowed down around this point in the day. She hated how the end of the period never caught her off guard; she was always keenly aware of the clock, with her work done and backpack already packed and ready for her to leave the classroom. She was usually the first one out the door.

“Hey, if I give you five lien, could you get me a redbull?”

“No, Ruby; for the last time, I don’t have a release period next, I’m a library aide.”

“Oh, come on, everyone knows you just show up, sign in, and disappear!” Her fellow senior slumped in her seat. “It’s not like you’re going to get in trouble! Ms. Goodwitch knows you ditch and she doesn’t say anything!”

How she’d become friends- perhaps even best friends- with the school’s most energetic track star was beyond her; it involved an ill fated chemistry lab and the fire department but, honestly, she couldn’t remember specific details beyond that. While Weiss would love to say she merely put up with and tolerated Ruby, the truth was that she still hadn’t entirely adjusted to the concept of having someone who would be with her through thick and thin. She was being… persuaded to open up to the young woman but she still kept more secrets than she probably should from her best friend.

“I swear, Ruby Rose, if you keep spreading such slander about my character, I’ll be forced to take drastic action!” She tore her gaze away from the clock to glare at the woman. “I do not skip class!”

Rolling her silver eyes, Ruby rested her head on her desk and groaned. “Just because you’re the Valedictorian doesn’t mean you have to be perfect, Weiss. No one’s going to care if you ditch one period.”

“I care!” The bell rang a moment later and she forgot about the argument entirely as she quickly grabbed her pack and fast walked to the door.

The walk from her class to the library was a blessedly short one, made slightly longer by classmates and underclassmen getting in her way as other students emerged into the hallway for the passing period. A cold glare managed to persuade some of them to move but not all of them- those blessedly ignorant few she stepped around or nearly barreled through if she could get away with it. It probably contributed to her reputation of being a vicious, cut throat type of person like her sister but her patience had worn too thin and she needed to get to the library.

A few steps from her goal, a hand suddenly landed on her shoulder and spun her around, and only two people in the whole school would dare put their hands on her like that, and only one of them for no good reason. “YANG-”

“Calm down, Princess, this’ll be quick, promise!” With hands on Weiss’ shoulders, she guided them away from the throng of students to a small alcove next to the library doors. “Just got something I need to say real quick.”

“What could you possibly have to say to me?” Weiss scowled at the blonde, annoyed that she seemed to get taller every time they talked, and crossed her arms over her chest. “Last I checked, I didn’t have anything to do with the girls’ basketball team. Or the weightlifting team. Or the boxing team. Or-”

Yang clapped her hands together in front of Weiss’ face, smiling that do-you-really-think-they’ll-expel-me smile of hers. “Hey, do me a favor? Drop the frigid bitch act for, like, five minutes, okay? Because I really don’t have the time for it; if you wanna go toe-to-toe in the bitch-out-lypmics, we can schedule that another time, but right now, I need to have a serious talk with you. It’s about Blake.”

At the namedrop, her blood ran cold and her heart lodged in her throat, eyes growing wide as a genuine tendril of fear began taking root in her chest. “Is she okay?”

“Well, that depends,” Yang replied, looking around at their classmates walking past without paying them any mind. “Look. I don’t get it, okay, the whole secret girlfriends thing, I don’t even know how you two got together… but what I do know is that Blake deserves better than someone who’s ashamed of her-”

“Don’t you dare put words in my mouth,” she hissed, worry turning to fury in the blink of an eye. “I’m not ashamed to be dating Blake. If it was safe, everyone would know!”

“Yeah, can you define ‘safe’ for me in this context? Because I’m having a real hard time convincing Blake you’re being sincere when you don’t want anyone knowing the two of you are dating.”

“You know we’re dating!”

“Because I refuse to let things go and I knew she was acting weird!” Yang growled in frustration, fingers flexing as if she was seriously debating throttling Weiss. “Listen, I figured it out and I bullied her into telling me weeks ago, but not even Ruby knows beyond that. Not a fan of keeping secrets but I’ll do it for a friend. Now, answer my question, please, because with the rest of the school convinced you two hate each other, this whole ‘don’t tell anyone we’re dating thing’ is clear as mud, and it’s really starting to get to her.”

Weiss’ shoulders fell as she looked away, her anger abating in the face of the situation presented to her. “It’s… complicated.”

“Then uncomplicate it for me.” Yang made a gesture with one hand. “Just give me a straight answer!”

“I can’t!” She stamped her foot, speaking before she could think about her word choice. “I can only give you a gay answer!”

Yang stared at her for a long moment. “So, that’s what Blake meant when she said you have the worst sense of humor.”

“I’m done with this conversation-”

Yang grabbed her arm and stopped her, expression turning serious. “Listen, you don’t wanna talk to me? Fine. But talk to Blake. If you really care about her, she deserves to hear that.”

As the blonde stepped away, the bell rang, making both of them late- not that it would matter. Ms. Goodwitch wouldn’t count her late and even if she did, a single tardy wouldn’t be much of a blemish on her record. There was a time when it would’ve bothered her but she’d grown past that a few years ago; perfection was, in some sense, in the eye of the beholder. Blake would notice, though, and she hurried to the library to keep her ‘secret girlfriend’ from worrying.

When she got to the library, she dropped her bag behind the counter and signed in, highly aware that Blake was somewhere among the rows reshelving books. 

The librarian gave her a small nod. “I presume you have good reason for being late but don’t make a habit of it.”

“Of course, Ms. Goodwitch.” With that, she grabbed a few leftover books that needed reshelving and went into the stacks to reshelve them. As soon as she was far enough away from the front desk, she spoke in a soft voice that Blake would be able to hear regardless. “Blake? I’m sorry I’m late.”

“Is everything alright?” She’d long ago grown accustomed to the faunus’ silent steps, which really shouldn’t be possible given the amount of glistening chains and bits of metal hung from her ensemble but it was one of those things Weiss had accepted about Blake at first and had grown to admire. “It’s not like you to be late.”

“I… got pulled into a conversation.” She debated, briefly, if she should mention who the conversation was with but ultimately decided against it. Yang would likely bring it up herself at some point but she didn’t want the distraction at present. “Blake… you know I care about you, right?”

“Yes, Weiss, and I care about you, too,” she replied, her voice holding that special lilt that Weiss used to think was snideness. Now, she recognized it as a gentle sort of teasing and, sometimes, a deflection. “What brought this on?”

“I’ve been thinking about some things… and I find myself curious about some… other things.”

“Truly, you have a way with words.”

“I’m trying to be serious!” Weiss whined, putting a hand to her head as she tried to think of a way to word what she wanted to say. In the next moment, Blake stepped up and wrapped her arms around her waist, resting her chin on Weiss’ shoulder in a silent show of support. This was, partly, where they differed, because even when words escaped Blake, the faunus could somehow find a way to convey what she needed; Weiss, in contrast, simply clammed up entirely if she didn’t begin insulting whoever was nearest. “You know the only reason we’re not dating publicly is because of my family, right? That, the moment I turn eighteen and gain access to my funds, I’ll shout it from the rooftops… right?”

Blake took a step back but one hand lingered on Weiss’ hip, a soft assurance that she wasn’t leaving but that they should probably have a conversation like this face-to-face. When she turned around, she searched shining amber eyes and found a touch of disbelief hiding there. “I’ll admit, I didn’t think it was the only reason.”

“It really is…” Weiss sighed, running a hand through her bangs in frustration. “I… I don’t know how to prove it, I don’t know if there’s anything I could say or do that would, but… I don’t want you thinking that I’m ashamed of dating you… that’s… that’s the furthest from the truth.”

Feline ears flicked towards one end of the row and both of them quickly focused on shelving the few books that remained as a group of students went back to one of the study rooms. Once the coast was clear, Blake sighed heavily. “I told Yang to drop it.”

“She’s trying to help.” Begrudgingly, she continued. “Ruby’s the same way. They meddle when they can but they have the best of intentions.”

“Still… she wasn’t too… forceful, was she?”

“She only threatened to throttle me, so no, she wasn’t too forceful.” Weiss tilted her head. “And, arguably, she has a salient point. I… I perhaps took it for granted that you would… that I made my feelings about you clear to you.”

Blake ducked her head, her ears flicking back briefly to blending into midnight black hair. As per her usual, the faunus was bedecked in all black save for the silver of the chains hanging from her pants and the snake bite piercings on her bottom lip. Whenever they were making out, Weiss found that flicking either of the piercings with her tongue would always result in a soft groan from Blake.

“So… when you turn eighteen…basically, when we graduate?” Blake took a step forward. “That’s… a long time to be a secret from everyone.”

“Well… not from everyone. Yang knows.”

“Uh huh.”

“And Ruby will know… when I tell her…”

“Right.” Blake came a bit closer. “I guess that means we won’t be going to prom together.”

Weiss raised a brow, then caught onto what her girlfriend was doing, a smile tugging at her lips. “You? Go to prom?” A soft chuckle. “I thought you said you wouldn’t be caught dead at… what was it you called it? A useless party for empty headed idiots?”

“And a waste of money. I said that, too.” Blake stopped just a hair’s breadth away and very nonchalantly shelved a book just behind Weiss’ shoulder. “But you’ve got a crown to win, right? Prom Queen to go with your other honors?”

“There’s only one crown that I care to claim,” she replied, reaching up to bury her hand in midnight locks between the faunus’ ears and pulling her down into a kiss. Normally, they didn’t indulge in such outside of Ms. Goodwitch’s office, which the librarian granted them access to once they’d reshelved all the books. If she suspected what they did in there, she remained silent, probably because while reshelving the books they would also fix what other aides did incorrectly and she appreciated the help more than she cared to curtail PDAs.

The kiss didn’t last too long- just long enough to drive her point home- but the look in amber eyes almost made her too weak to move.

Weiss gathered her courage. “I do love you, Blake.”

Not ‘care about’, not ‘fond of’, not any other arrangement of words she’d used over the past year to describe how she felt. Fear that caring too much would make her careless had prevented her from saying the words before. Now, though, she couldn’t go another moment without Blake understanding exactly how much she cared.

After the shock passed, Blake smiled softly, ears canting forward. “I love you too, Weiss.”

It took a moment for them to part but they returned to the counter and finished reshelving the books.

“Blake?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think I’d look good in black?”

---

Hi, yes, please join me in picturing Blake as a late 90′s/early 00′s goth girl.

[hellomynameisbisexual]

Here's a shortlist of those who realized that I — a cis woman who'd identified as heterosexual for decades of life — was in fact actually bi, long before I realized it myself recently: my sister, all my friends, my boyfriend, and the TikTok algorithm.

On TikTok, the relationship between user and algorithm is uniquely (even sometimes uncannily) intimate. An app which seemingly contains as many multitudes of life experiences and niche communities as there are people in the world, we all start in the lowest common denominator of TikTok. Straight TikTok (as it's popularly dubbed) initially bombards your For You Page with the silly pet videos and viral teen dances that folks who don't use TikTok like to condescendingly reduce it to.

Quickly, though, TikTok begins reading your soul like some sort of divine digital oracle, prying open layers of your being never before known to your own conscious mind. The more you use it, the more tailored its content becomes to your deepest specificities, to the point where you get stuff that's so relatable that it can feel like a personal attack (in the best way) or (more dangerously) even a harmful trigger from lifelong traumas.

For example: I don't know what dark magic (read: privacy violations) immediately clued TikTok into the fact that I was half-Brazilian, but within days of first using it, Straight TikTok gave way to at first Portuguese-speaking then broader Latin TikTok. Feeling oddly seen (being white-passing and mostly American-raised, my Brazilian identity isn't often validated), I was liberal with the likes, knowing that engagement was the surefire way to go deeper down this identity-affirming corner of the social app.

TikTok made lots of assumptions from there, throwing me right down the boundless, beautiful, and oddest multiplicities of Alt TikTok, a counter to Straight TikTok's milquetoast mainstreamness.

Home to a wide spectrum of marginalized groups, I was giving out likes on my FYP like Oprah, smashing that heart button on every type of video: from TikTokers with disabilities, Black and Indigenous creators, political activists, body-stigma-busting fat women, and every glittering shade of the LGBTQ cornucopia. The faves were genuine, but also a way to support and help offset what I knew about the discriminatory biases in TikTok's algorithm.

My diverse range of likes started to get more specific by the minute, though. I wasn't just on general Black TikTok anymore, but Alt Cottagecore Middle-Class Black Girl TikTok (an actual label one creator gave her page's vibes). Then it was Queer Latina Roller Skating Girl TikTok, Women With Non-Hyperactive ADHD TikTok, and then a double whammy of Women Loving Women (WLW) TikTok alternating between beautiful lesbian couples and baby bisexuals.

Looking back at my history of likes, the transition from queer “ally” to “salivating simp” is almost imperceptible.

There was no one precise "aha" moment. I started getting "put a finger down" challenges that wouldn't reveal what you were putting a finger down for until the end. Then, 9-fingers deep (winkwink), I'd be congratulated for being 100% bisexual. Somewhere along the path of getting served multiple WLW Disney cosplays in a single day and even dom lesbian KinkTok roleplay — or whatever the fuck Bisexual Pirate TikTok is — deductive reasoning kind of spoke for itself.

But I will never forget the one video that was such a heat-seeking missile of a targeted attack that I was moved to finally text it to my group chat of WLW friends with a, "Wait, am I bi?" To which the overwhelming consensus was, "Magic 8 Ball says, 'Highly Likely.'"

Serendipitously posted during Pride Month, the video shows a girl shaking her head at the caption above her head, calling out confused and/or closeted queers who say shit like, "I think everyone is a LITTLE bisexual," to the tune of "Closer" by The Chainsmokers. When the lyrics land on the word "you," she points straight at the screen — at me — her finger and inquisitive look piercing my hopelessly bisexual soul like Cupid's goddamn arrow.

Oh no, the voice inside my head said, I have just been mercilessly perceived.

As someone who had, in fact, done feminist studies at a tiny liberal arts college with a gender gap of about 70 percent women, I'd of course dabbled. I've always been quick to bring up the Kinsey scale, to champion a true spectrum of sexuality, and to even declare (on multiple occasions) that I was, "straight, but would totally fuck that girl!"

Oh no, the voice inside my head returned, I've literally just been using extra words to say I was bi.

After consulting the expertise of my WLW friend group (whose mere existence, in retrospect, also should've clued me in on the flashing neon pink, purple, and blue flag of my raging bisexuality), I ran to my boyfriend to inform him of the "news."

"Yeah, baby, I know. We all know," he said kindly.

"How?!" I demanded.

Well for one, he pointed out, every time we came across a video of a hot girl while scrolling TikTok together, I'd without fail watch the whole way through, often more than once, regardless of content. (Apparently, straight girls do not tend to do this?) For another, I always breathlessly pointed out when we'd pass by a woman I found beautiful, often finding a way to send a compliment her way. ("I'm just a flirt!" I used to rationalize with a hand wave, "Obvs, I'm not actually sexually attracted to them!") Then, I guess, there were the TED Talk-like rants I'd subject him to about the thinly veiled queer relationship in Adventure Time between Princess Bubblegum and Marcelyne the Vampire Queen — which the cowards at Cartoon Network forced creators to keep as subtext!

And, well, when you lay it all out like that...

But my TikTok-fueled bisexual awakening might actually speak less to the omnipotence of the app's algorithm, and more to how heteronormativity is truly one helluva drug.

Sure, TikTok bombarded me with the thirst traps of my exact type of domineering masc lady queers, who reduced me to a puddle of drool I could no longer deny. But I also recalled a pivotal moment in college when I briefly questioned my heterosexuality, only to have a lesbian friend roll her eyes and chastise me for being one of those straight girls who leads Actual Queer Women on. I figured she must know better. So I never pursued any of my lady crushes in college, which meant I never experimented much sexually, which made me conclude that I couldn't call myself bisexual if I'd never had actual sex with a woman. I also didn't really enjoy lesbian porn much, though the fact that I'd often find myself fixating on the woman during heterosexual porn should've clued me into that probably coming more from how mainstream lesbian porn is designed for straight men.

The ubiquity of heterormativity, even when unwittingly perpetrated by members of the queer community, is such an effective self-sustaining cycle. Aside from being met with queer-gating (something I've since learned bi folks often experience), I had a hard time identifying my attraction to women as genuine attraction, simply because it felt different to how I was attracted to men.

Heteronormativity is truly one helluva drug.

So much of women's sexuality — of my sexuality — can feel defined by that carnivorous kind of validation you get from men. I met no societal resistance in fully embodying and exploring my desire for men, either (which, to be clear, was and is insatiable slut levels of wanting that peen.) But in retrospect, I wonder how many men I slept with not because I was truly attracted to them, but because I got off on how much they wanted me.

My attraction to women comes with a different texture of eroticism. With women (and bare with a baby bi, here), the attraction feels more shared, more mutual, more tender rather than possessive. It's no less raw or hot or all-consuming, don't get me wrong. But for me at least, it comes more from a place of equality rather than just power play. I love the way women seem to see right through me, to know me, without us really needing to say a word.

I am still, as it turns out, a sexual submissive through-and-through, regardless of what gender my would-be partner is. But, ignorantly and unknowingly, I'd been limiting my concept of who could embody dominant sexual personas to cis men. But when TikTok sent me down that glorious rabbit hole of masc women (who know exactly what they're doing, btw), I realized my attraction was not to men, but a certain type of masculinity. It didn't matter which body or genitalia that presentation came with.

There is something about TikTok that feels particularly suited to these journeys of sexual self-discovery and, in the case of women loving women, I don't think it's just the prescient algorithm. The short-form video format lends itself to lightning bolt-like jolts of soul-bearing nakedness, with the POV camera angles bucking conventions of the male gaze, which entrenches the language of film and TV in heterosexual male desire.

In fairness to me, I'm far from the only one who missed their inner gay for a long time — only to have her pop out like a queer jack-in-the-box throughout a near year-long quarantine that led many of us to join TikTok. There was the baby bi mom, and scores of others who no longer had to publicly perform their heterosexuality during lockdown — only to realize that, hey, maybe I'm not heterosexual at all?

Flooded with video after video affirming my suspicions, reflecting my exact experiences as they happened to others, the change in my sexual identity was so normalized on TikTok that I didn't even feel like I needed to formally "come out." I thought this safe home I'd found to foster my baby bisexuality online would extend into the real world.

But I was in for a rude awakening.

Testing out my bisexuality on other platforms, casually referring to it on Twitter, posting pictures of myself decked out in a rainbow skate outfit (which I bought before realizing I was queer), I received nothing but unquestioning support and validation. Eventually, I realized I should probably let some members of my family know before they learned through one of these posts, though.

Daunted by the idea of trying to tell my Latina Catholic mother and Swiss Army veteran father (who's had a crass running joke about me being a "lesbian" ever since I first declared myself a feminist at age 12), I chose the sibling closest to me. Seeing as how gender studies was one of her majors in college too, I thought it was a shoo-in. I sent an off-handed, joke-y but serious, "btw I'm bi now!" text, believing that's all that would be needed to receive the same nonchalant acceptance I found online.

It was not.

I didn't receive a response for two days. Hurt and panicked by what was potentially my first mild experience of homophobia, I called them out. They responded by insisting we need to have a phone call for such "serious" conversations. As I calmly tried to express my hurt on said call, I was told my text had been enough to make this sibling worry about my mental wellbeing. They said I should be more understanding of why it'd be hard for them to (and I'm paraphrasing) "think you were one way for twenty-eight years" before having to contend with me deciding I was now "something else."

But I wasn't "something else," I tried to explain, voice shaking. I hadn't knowingly been deceiving or hiding this part of me. I'd simply discovered a more appropriate label. But it was like we were speaking different languages. Other family members were more accepting, thankfully. There are many ways I'm exceptionally lucky, my IRL environment as supportive as Baby Bi TikTok. Namely, I'm in a loving relationship with a man who never once mistook any of it as a threat, instead giving me all the space in the world to understand this new facet of my sexuality.

I don't have it all figured out yet. But at least when someone asks if I listen to Girl in Red on social media, I know to answer with a resounding, "Yes," even though I've never listened to a single one of her songs. And for now, that's enough.