#actually I'm lesbian-leaning bisexual and good at words

[queen-mihai]

Aye yam make king a powst awn tuhmbler dott cahm

[demonophilia]

dni

minors, or no age listed. this is an instant block. have your age plainly listed either in your bio or pinned post.

raceplay, ageplay (dd/lg, md/lb, or any variation on those), detrans/misgendering, sexism/misogyny, sissy/forcefem, beastiality, incest (including step/adopted/fauxcest) , or orientationplay (ex. 'turning' lesbians. fuck off

proana/promia/thinspo/any kind of ed blogs i have an ed and these blogs are INCREDIBLY triggering for me. do not interact with me. i will block you.

scat, vore, inflation etc. nothing wrong with these but i'll most likely block if theyre a main focus of our blog. if i follow first, this doesnt apply!

any "icky x" shit. generally falls under the ageplay or incest umbrella, but i wanted to make sure i was clear. if i see any variation on those tags on your post, i will block.

chasers please just be normal LMAO

boundaries

do not ask about my private life/ask for my sfw blog. again, this is only if we aren't friends/close. i might post abt it in vague terms and its fine to ask abt minor things (how was your day etc) but dont pry. i am literally a porn blog im on here to get people off LMAO im not that interesting

if i say no or say to stop, stop. this should be obvious. if i say no, i mean no. this includes if im being dominant. if you repeatedly disrespect a boundary ive set, i will block you. if you arent clear on a boundary, ask!

more info under the cut ⬇️

about

hii im connor :] i use it/its, he/him, and she/her pronouns. i'm bisexual + bigender (tme, and i have a cunt), and i'm fine with both feminine and masculine petnames (see petnames section below :]) i'm a vers and a switch, though recently i've been heavily sub leaning. feel free to send me dom-focused asks, i just can't guarantee i'll get to them too quickly!

i love getting asks, especially sexual ones (obviously). just be certain that youre respecting my boundaries! i understand slip-ups, but try your best to "respect" me (obviously disrespect me lmao but yk what i mean). if you'd like to use an emoji for your asks, lmk and i'll tag the answers with that emoji :]

the terms i use for my anatomy are fairly loose, but do not use the term "bonus hole" or any variation to refer to my cunt. boypussy is fine, but i don't really find it very sexy LMAO. also, i call my clit a cock or tdick. it's fine to use clit for it, but i prefer the other 2.

petnames

i looove petnames :] feel free to use any of these (unless i specify otherwise), id honestly prefer you using these over my actual name LMAO.

angel, baby, darling, etc. these aren't sexual, but feel free to use them! i find them cute :]

toy/doll/fucktoy/thing etc. i love being objectified/dehumanized so these are always a good bet LOL

puppy, dog, pet, mutt, kitten, kitty, etc. bonus points for "bad dog" which makes me crazy in my head

good boy/girl/toy etc.

slut/whore/cumdump etc. i love most degrading names, lol. go wild with these, if i don't like one i'll lyk :]

sir/miss. when i am domming, these are generally the titles i prefer. feel free to try others though! (aside from daddy/mommy.)

go wild! the ones above are some of my favorites/the ones that immediately came to mind, but feel free to try other ones :] like i said if i don't like it i'll just lyk, no harm done!

kinks

i should note that i enjoy all my kinks from both directions, whether im dom or sub :] due to my frequently subby nature some of these descriptions are worded in terms of Me being the sub but i love them when im domming also basically.

praise i adoree being praised... generally i prefer it mixed in with degradation ^_^ tell me if im doing a good job, making you happy, etc! i also love praise when im domming please lmk if youre enjoying yourself i like knowing im getting people off :]

degradation another favorite ^_^ as ive mentioned, i love being dehumanized and sexualized. call me stupid, useless, etc. aside from words, i do enjoy being made to do degrading tasks <3 Also idk where to put this but i lovee spit spit in my mouth spit on me Whatever

painplay hitting, slapping, choking, biting etc are some of my favorites. i also enjoy knifeplay and gunplay. anything that will leave bruises/marks will make me wet <3

somno/intox i enjoy both of these, but i am very picky about them, and i'd probably won't talk about them a lot because of how picky i am.

monsterfucking vampires werewolves angels demons tentacles etc etc etc i go crazy for them . i do want to do unspeakable things to a service top werewolf this is true.

petplay i should note that i'm fairly picky about petplay as well! i mainly prefer the petnames, collars/leashes, etc. i don't enjoy anything about cages or being made to bark (though i don't mind phrases like "puppies don't talk" and stuff like that)

bondage, gags, handcuffs etc. pleasee tie me up and tell me what you'd do to me <3 i have an oral fixation so any use of my mouth is very appreciated <3

breeding I LOOOOOVE BREEDING im crazy abt it. if you threaten to knock me up i Will beg for it lol. i don't really care abt any actual pregnancy details, aside from future hypotheticals (youre gonna be so big, im gonna fuck another baby into you after, etc)

exhibitionism/voyeurism if i didnt get off on ppl looking at me i wouldnt have made this blog love and light .

this list is nonexhaustive! i like a lot of kinks, so feel free to bring up any you think i'd like, so long as they aren't on my dni or anything. worst case scenario i just won't like them and i'll lyk LOL.

MISC

mutuals feel free to dm me if you'd like ;] i tend not to initiate bc i have a hard time telling when its normal to reach out LOL, so if you want to talk to me, please do! everyone else can talk to me through the ask box!! once again, Please sexualize me (why would i make this blog if i didnt wanna be sexualized lmao) but respect my boundaries <3

related to above, but if you get off to my posts/thinking of me, id love to know :] i loveee getting ppl off so <3 and if im feeling dommy i might tease you abt it LOL

i do my best to tag specific kinks for navigation (and to tag hard kinks with tw (kink)) but i might slip up/forget! if you notice an issue with the tags, feel free to lmk and ill get that fixed :]

also i should note i am bisexual bigender, so im fine being rbed with both wlw/nb and mlm/nb tags ! lmk if youre uncomfortable with me interacting with yr content in any way 👍

ty for reading this whole long thing :D i tend to ramble a lot lol... i don't rly have anything to give you for reading it all buttttt feel free 2 like if youve read all this also youre my favorite and you can do whatever you want to me (joke (or is it!?))

[birdylion]

One of my climbing buddies is a very straight, generally left-leaning, good-hearted middle aged guy who ... I can rely on for reality checks about what the average non-queer person knows, not that I'd ever tell him that.

He doesn't know shit about queer stuff other than "there are homosexual and heterosexual people. And some people decide to change their sex and that's okay." I used these words intentionally because that's round about what he would use.

I had to explain bisexuality to him once, when he talked about a friend of his family who had had a "lesbian phase" but "ended up" with a man. My explanation ended up opening him up to the idea of falling in love with a person first and foremost, and that it sometimes works out and sometimes doesn't, which ended in him coming to the conclusion (to which I led him) that he could just as well say each relationship is a phase, so he's had a Lisa Phase, a Sonja Phase, a Bianca Phase etc but each was part of his life journey, just as the same-sex relationship of his family's friend wasn't less true than the one with a man.

Yesterday he mentioned watching the ESC and hearing about "this nonbinary thing" for the first time. "I had to google what this binary was supposed to be", he said, and then mused that someone could be "sometimes a man, sometimes a woman", and the only place where that could be complicated would be when the person has kids because he thought "are you my mom or my dad today?" would be a lot of effort, but then, he concluded, not too much effort after all. He seemed to assume that one would choose one over the other eventually, same as with bisexuality back then, but then easily conceded that actually, that wasn't necessary. I had to slightly push him into the direction but then he instantly understood the concept of nonbinary as being outside of or rejecting the gender binary (in addition to the concept of fluidity, which, as seen above, he already understood). We talked about clothes not being inherently gendered, only in a cultural context (culture determines what clothes count as feminine or masculine), which he understood on his own, and then it was only a slight hint from me that helped him understand that clothes can be a form of gendered self-expression that can conform to or subvert culture-specific gender norms.

It feels like I'm giving him crash courses on queer theory without ever using any of the vocabulary I would use for it on here, and he soaks it up like a sponge. He's so clueless about the theory behind it, but takes it all in stride with the help of a general (and genuine) attitude of "let others live their life" and "it's okay to be different". It's fascinating.

[limeade-l3sbian]

A fair question! I cant' really speak for anyone else, so these are just my thoughts. I am not yet the ambassador for all lesbians.

This post, specifically, wasn't in response to those sorts of posts. Personally, I find those posts to be intentionally inflammatory and unfounded in any real critical thinking other than "just let people do what they want and words mean whatever you want them to mean! 🤪💕"

This was mainly in response to a number of posts I had seen on here and on TikTok where bisexual womyn would be stating that they were a lesbian but there was one man they would go straight for. And the comments were just riddled with, "Yeah, I'm gay but for him I would actually blah blah blah." And I wasn't so much angry as I was just exasperated.

I think I respond this way because, at least to me, if you feel so inclined to inject yourself into something that you are not but are pretty damn related to, you must think that your version of womyn loving is inferior or something. You think you aren't truly gay unless you call yourself a lesbian and you only really like womyn but well sometimes you like men but you hate that you like men so you think your loathing of your own sexuality is grounds to say you're a lesbian.

My first defense is always empathy, even when I might want to jump straight to anger. And I don't mean that in some, "Oh, aren't I so good and holier for taking pity?" or anything bullshit like that. Just that I give the benefit of the doubt before I lean into aggression if that makes sense lmao. I personally say this because it's true. There's nothing wrong with liking men in a sexual/romantic way. That has no bearing on anyone's moral compass. And I say, "It's okay to be bisexual" because I think some womyn really do think their attraction-based proximity to men makes them "less gay." And it doesn't.

there's nothing wrong with being bisexual there's nothing wrong with being bisexual there's nothing wrong with being bisexual pls stop saying you're a lesbian when you're not there's nothing wrong with being bisexual lesbians are not having secret pussy parties that are only accessible to lesbians there's nothing wrong with being bisexual

[boop-le-snoot]

main masterlist ☀️ taglist & faq

hot wheels | natasha romanoff x reader

explicit, 5,2k words, f/f. meet-ugly but still very much wholesome. we love a girlboss. natasha catches some random woman keying her brand new car but decides to be the better person for once and hear the woman out. turns out, being the better person can even get one laid! warnings: singular use of the d-slur, references to an abusive ex, lesbian sex.

[no y/n, no "you", nickname only, no reader description - race/age/body type neutral, she/her pronouns]

Natasha gave the tall, lanky boy an unimpressed look as she side-stepped the arguing couple to avoid colliding with the annoyed, teary-eyed woman the boy was groveling to. It was nearing rush hour and there was shopping to be done before the heavy NYC traffic could steer her already busy schedule down into an unmanageable chaos.

"But, Foxy, you know I didn't mean it! I love you, more than anything!"

The items on the spy's list were checked off methodically, item after item landing in the cart with a quiet thud as the redhead maneuvered through the isles with tactical precision. The usual afternoon crowd began to fill the store, taking up the so-needed breathing space; Natasha's shopping trip wasn't a moment of leisure and with her neverending to-do list full, she hurried to the self-check-out register, flying through the motions mindlessly.

Scan, place, beep, boop, pay, load up the bags, make way to the car, load up and pedal to the metal.

Scratch that. No, scratch - Natasha's eyes bulged as she neared her shiny, brand new Charger, seeing the obvious defects even from a mile away: the paint, previously cherry red and gleaming in the sun, ruined by a series of thin, gray lines, standing out unpleasantly on the otherwise pristine vehicle.

And the culprit, who's tuft of hair peeked over the hood of the car on the other side of the Charger, almost fully hidden between her car and the large Chevrolet in the next parking spot over.

Natasha's fingers clenched around the handle of the cart as she fought the urge to reach for her knife safely holstered under her leather jacket. "Excuse me?" Tone quiet and deadly, the spy prepared herself to fight or at least slightly shake up the hooligan.

The figure froze, vaguely familiar clothing and a puffy, tear-stained face slowly rising from behind Natasha's car. "In my defense, he deserves it," the girl - Foxy - the one that was arguing in front of the store earlier, declared through a stream of angry tears. "Call the cops if you want, I don't care." It was unclear if the girl recognised her, the Black Widow, as she made no move to run for the hills, just pathetically sniffled, pocketing the keys she used to scratch Natasha's car.

"That's my car," The spy responded flatly, a great deal of amusement crawling into her face as Foxy's eyes bulged, jaw fell slack, horror plain and evident overshadowing the waterworks. Natasha quickly pieced two and two together but patiently waited for the initial shock to subside before popping a question. "A word of advice, if I may?"

Foxy nodded, dumbfounded, frantically scrambling for the contents of her pockets, searching for something with the agility of a panicking cat, more than half of the contents spilling out onto the ground.

Natasha unlocked the car, popping the trunk and loading in her bags as she raised her voice to be heard over the noise of a busy parking lot. "Don't mess with the paint, the insurance will cover it. Slash three tires - not four - or take a swing at the front bumper and the headlights," the trunk slid shut with a quiet click as the spy inspected the damages close-up. Her Charger looked like it was attacked by a pack of aggressive, feral cats with nails of steel. "And always check the number plates before committing acts of vandalism to make sure you're enacting revenge on the right person." The last part was said with a smirk.

As the spy stepped closer to Foxy, she noted the excessive puffiness of her cheeks and the shaking fingers that held a checkbook and a pen. The woman looked torn between terrified and apologetic, worrying her lip between her teeth. "I'm so, so sorry. Todd just got his new car, it's identical to yours and I didn't get the chance to memorize the number plate yet," the offending man's name was said with a pitiful growl. "How much?" She weakly motioned to the ruined bodywork.

"What'd he do?" Natasha didn't resist her curiousity, leaning against the driver's side door and sizing up the other woman. She was pretty, well-dressed and reasonably wealthy on the first sight. "Yeah, he looked like a Todd," The quip slipped from the redhead's lips as she remembered the man from earlier. Foxy looked way too good to be wasting her time on someone who looked like an adolescent that hadn't outgrown his skater boy phase.

Foxy chuckled shyly at Natasha's remark, smoothing a hand over her face. "Lord, where do I even begin..." The sigh was loud and long. "He lived in my apartment rent-free, made me give up my cat by lying about his allergies, went through nine low-wage jobs in two years, did nothing but play video games in his free time and developed a pot addiction, thus spending all his money on it," she began steadily but her tone grew in pitch with every added offence as Natasha's eyebrows climbed higher and higher. "My last straw was when he took out a loan he couldn't pay off to buy his brand new cool car," the words were spat out with venom. "I threw him out last Saturday. He's been following me around all the time," Foxy continued, growing dark in the face. "And then I found out he had been cheating on me for I don't know how long. I just... I just lost it," she finished pathetically, all but crumbling into a pile of human misery.

Natasha's face had frozen into mute disbelief somewhere around the first half of the story, repulsion and astonishment mixing into a flurry of quiet rage on the random woman's behalf. Menfolk were bizarre animals, and as much as the spy felt herself annoyed by her roommates at the tower, she couldn't help but feel relieved that the men surrounding her were far from douchebags of the casual variety. This Todd, however, was no amateur, and had done Foxy really, really dirty.

The redhead made up her mind rather quickly. "That's a lot to unpack," she carefully studied the micro-expressions on the other woman's face. "I have a couple of nice bottles of wine at my place and nobody to share them with. Care for a glass?"

Foxy's eyes widened once more. "I don't- I don't want to take up your time, I mean, I'm sure you've got more important shit to do, like save the world and y'know..." The stammering was followed by a shy look to the side.

So, Foxy had recognised her. And she didn't go running the other way like most people that encountered her in disadvantageous situations did. "I actually don't, I was just getting my shopping done for a lack of better things to do," Natasha lied seamlessly, motioning to the other side of the car. "Hop in." Mission reports and Barton's pizza date could wait.

The woman made quick way around, buckling into the seat in seconds, right before Natasha peeled off from the parking lot towards the Avengers tower at breathtaking speeds. The car was a gift from Tony - one of the rare things he managed to get right - and an absolute pleasure to drive.

"What's your name?" The redhead asked, juggling the steering and her smartphone effortlessly.

The woman rattled of her first and last name on between attempts to fix her runny make-up and wipe the dried snot and tears off her face. "Foxy is a nickname my gramps gave me, said I used to excessively play with fox pelts in the attic when I was a kid," the woman added with a snort, totally oblivious to Natasha's eyebrow raise as the spy read the information on her in-between overtaking slower cars.

Good student, good family life, stable income and good career growth in a prospective sector. What did Foxy even find in a guy like Todd? The most important information, however, was also most pleasing. No ties to any kind of intelligence gathering organizations.

As Natasha parked and popped the trunk once more, the other woman offered a hand with her shopping bags. Friday acknowledged the newcomer, startling her, causing Natasha to roll her eyes and mention, loudly, that if Tony decided to pay them a surprise visit, he may end up castrated or shot on sight, much to Foxy's bashful snickering.

Once the shopping was put away and the wine opened, the spy let herself curl up on the couch opposite the woman who studied her Spartan style apartment with curios eyes. The lack of knick knacks must've been a surprise for her: Natasha's apartment looked bare compared to what she'd seen in other's people's homes but the desire to make the environment more cozy had never been strong enough to actually act upon it. She wasn't used to staying in a place for very long.

"Do you still want to get back at the bastard?" The redhead asked once the first bottle was coming to an end. The alcohol was sitting low, pleasantly warm in their bellies and the food that they'd ordered in the middle of a casual chit-chat lulled them into a state of comfortable stupor.

"I want to gouge his eyes out and wear them as a battle trophy," Foxy was slightly slurring her words, much more affected by the wine than the stoic, experienced agent. "But I guess I can settle for petty crime or arson."

"I'm sensing you didn't tell me the whole list of grievances," true to her words, the spy felt as it there was a possibility quite a few things were being left unsaid.

Foxy sighed once again, placing the empty glass on the table and using her palm to prop her flushed face against it, blankly staring off into the far end of the room. "I came out as bisexual last year and he was giving me so much shit for it. Todd kept pushing for a threesome and when I refused, started accusing me of cheating during our fights, called me a whore a couple of times," the more she spoke, the higher Natasha's anger levels rose.

Not only was a Todd a dick, he was an abusive one. Truly, the grand prize of Asshat Lottery. "I have an idea or three," the spy twirled the remaining red liquid in her glass before downing it. "But it'll have to stay between us two."

"I'm listening," Foxy turned to meet Natasha's face, eyes considerably more alert than seconds before.

A few days past their amicable wine-and-revenge get-together, Natasha's doorbell rang as if she wasn't already had been made aware by Friday that a visitor was coming up to see her. Boxes of hair bleach and dye laid stacked on the living room table, surrounded by jewelry and assorted accessories. A pitcher of fresh sangria topped the ensemble, two clean glasses placed neatly on the tray next to it.

"Hi, Nat," Foxy's smile was a mile wide - a far cry from the sniffling sad sack of a woman the spy had first met. The nickname flowed freely from the woman's lips, as calm as Natasha's own answering grin and greeting. "I gots the stuff," waving her purse about, the woman kicked off her shoes by the door, approaching Natasha with the same smile that seemed to be more effective at lightening up the room than Tony's expensive designer lamps.

As Natasha's plan achieved a solid state, the two women had quickly come to a realization that Natasha was far too recognizable with her signature red hair and over a flurry of text messages, the decision to switch to a warm caramel blonde was made unanimously. Foxy had rebuked any and all Natasha's attempts to affirm she'd be able to do it herself and the spy gave into the other's chiding, relenting to have her hair dyed by a person who at least had a possibility of seeing the back of her head without having to perform acrobatic tricks.

Foxy was an easygoing, non-problematic person. She was fun to have around, quiet but witty, with intelligent eyes and a realistic view on the world. It was something Natasha valued, alongside the lack of probing questions regarding her past or her job - her insides clenched uncomfortably at the thought of having to lie about those things, or even worse, having to admit to the wrongdoings in her past, however Foxy carefully steered away from topics that were sensitive and never gave Natasha as much as a side-eye if the spy appeared to lack some minor detail that normal women her age all seemed to be aware of.

The curiosity had her ready to burst. Nat's natural defense mechanisms were quite confused, not sure what to make of the woman who almost too friendly to be true, but the kindness in her eyes and the sometimes shy, awestruck looks she gave Natasha when she thought the redhead wasn't looking made up for it in spades.

"What do you think?" The noise of the hair dryer finally ceased, Foxy's voice echoing in Natasha's luxuriously large bathroom.

The newly-blonde spy studied her reflection with a tilt to her head. The ombre was a nice touch - her own hair was naturally darker than the caramel and honey blonde she had chosen, so the almost-brown shading at her roots took much away from the contrast between her lighter hair and darker brows. It was just another disguise for the spy, but somehow, this one felt more like home than any of the previous faces she had worn.

"I like it, you were right about the ombre," Natasha voiced her thoughts, eyes sliding over to the smiling woman behind her, feeling the corners of her mouth begin to creep upwards in involuntary response.

"You looked good with red hair, don't misunderstand me," Foxy briefly raised her hands. "But you have a light complexion and lighter colors do wonders for bringing out the youthfulness. Even if we don't have much joy these days, a good hair color is an opportunity to showcase the bit," she briefly touched her own hair in an exaggerated attempt at driving her point home.

The fun part was done, the time came to execute the revenge. It wasn't exactly anything special; rather, the plan was quite simple - let Todd make a fool out of himself in front of his friends and perhaps (a slightly, teensy possibility) get himself arrested. The two women took their time to get dolled up, not too much - but rather, adding just that little bit to themselves to easily attract moderate amounts of attention from men.

The bar was busy, noisy and full of people when the two women stepped through the door. Natasha's eyes scanned the room out of habit, easily spotting the tall, lanky Todd in the far end of the bar, laughing and boozing with equally pathetic-looking man-children. The urge to gag was almost irresistible.

The spy let herself to be led to the bar by Foxy who looked mildly uncomfortable. Natasha was sure that if she was to touch the other woman's face, it would be flaming under the circumstances. "Try to relax a little, I won't bite," with a quip to her companion, Nat ordered them a vodka cranberry each, sitting down with her back to the men. "Tell me when he notices us and starts moving this way."

Foxy nodded minutely, clutching her drink for dear life and taking generous sips to calm herself down and relax like the spy had requested. They talked about everything and nothing in between, Natasha's hand on Foxy's knee crawling closer to her hip as minutes passed by without interruption. Loud noises of men playing darts and drunkenly cheering reached the womens earshot every now and then, causing Foxy to throw increasingly infuriated glances towards her ex-boyfriend and the Black Widow's current victim of choice.

Sitting opposite the perfectly composed, smiling woman, it was clear as day she was, indeed, best of the best. Despite knowing Foxy for only a few days, Natasha managed to pull off a very convincing girlfriend: her body language was nothing short of absolutely besotted and the googly eyes the spy was making had Foxy constantly remind herself that it was only for show. There was no way this gorgeous, incredible human would be interested in someone as plain and ordinary as herself.

"Heads up," Foxy's smile suddenly grew a mile wide as she stared directly at Natasha, eyes alight with fury at the scene about to unfold. Natasha's reply was to briefly tighten the grasp on the other's leg in silent support.

"Hey, baby," Todd was drunk enough for the stench of his breath to reach both women. "Oh, I see you're with a friend," his attempt at flirting only made Natasha scrunch up her face like a cat that accidentally smelled a lemon.

"Leave me alone," Foxy stated firmly, knowing the phrase wouldn't do anything to deter her overzealous ex, but this time - she counted on it.

"It's okay, I can share," the slurred words had a couple of people nearby raise their eyebrows at the audacity.

"I'm not interested," Foxy snapped. "In fact, there is absolutely nothing your freeloading, cheating ass can bring to my table."

The woman radiated satisfaction as gasps sounded out around them; Todd was a regular at this bar and most people there knew him in one way or another. The moment of joy, however, was brief.

"Listen, bitch, you have no business talking to me like that," full of drunken bravado, the man spat angrily, taking unsteady steps closer to Foxy. "What you need is a decent man that can handle your outbursts, not some dyke..." before he could even utter another offensive syllable, Natasha had his wildly gesturing arm twisted painfully behind his back, easily forcing the inebriated man to his knees.

"Wanna try that again, champ?" Sarcasm flowed freely from the spy's lips as the patrons in the bar gasped. The civilian clothing and the new hair color might have been an effective short-term disguise but once the crowd had seen her neat little party trick and had taken a good look at her face, nobody was doubting her identity. "Call the cops, will you?" She addressed the shocked bartender who immediately scrambled to obey.

"I didn't do anything!" Todd cried out, eyes drunkenly darting between the Black Widow's quiet rage and Foxy's grim stone face.

"Huh, that's weird. Because I clearly heard and saw an attempted hate crime," Natasha's voice attained a sardonic tint. "And I have a bar full of witnesses," the spy shrugged, letting go of his arm but keeping a boot firmly planted on his back to prevent him from escaping. "I hope you have a lawyer."

Foxy snorted, reaching for her unfinished second drink. "Tough luck."

Out of the corner of her eye, she spied Todd's friends inching closer to the exit door second by second, as if they could stand a chance against a professionally trained secret agent. Luckily for them, Natasha wasn't interested in the remainder of Todd's gang of losers and merely raised an eyebrow when the other men reached the door, a tiny smirk appearing when his pleading eyes didn't cause any reaction in his friends, the spineless worms, hopping out of the door without as much as a goodbye to the man laying face-down on the dirty floor.

As soon as the police arrived, awestruck by one of the NYC's most famous superheroes just casually standing in a bar, they eagerly collected the inebriated offender, briskly escorting Todd to the squad car. The bartender and several other patrons confirmed Natasha's words that an attempted hate crime had taken place. Cops were in and out in less than fifteen minutes and the otherwise-pleasant hole-in-the-wall bar returned to its usual evening bustle.

"Celebratory shots?" Natasha laughed as Foxy exhaled, deep and slow, once her racing heart calmed down.

"My treat," the other woman motioned for the bartender and soon, a line of colorful glasses appeared in front of the women. Each downed a glass easily, slamming it back on the table. "Man, this is everything I never knew I needed," Foxy confessed with a shy smile. "Thanks, Nat. You're the best."

The spy responded with a satisfied smile, picking up another glass and holding it out for a toast. "To revenge well-deserved," the glass clicked, alcohol slid easily down their throats. "So, what now?"

Foxy's eyes shone in the bright lights of the bar, relieved and tipsy. The small empty glass twirled easily between her fingers. "Dunno," the shrug came and went. "Maybe go on vacation. To Florida."

Natasha let out a belly laugh, downing her last shot without as much as a stutter in her movements, Foxy's eyes lingering on the stray drops of alcohol running from the spy's plump lips. "A vacation with the crackheads? Romantic," the quip was received with an eyeroll from the other woman.

"Spoilsport," Foxy, too, finished her booze and placed the money and a hefty tip on the bar, tapping twice to get the bartender's attention. "I meant more like - lay on the beach, sip mimosas, look at sexy people in swimsuits..."

"Florida is for old people," Natasha objected, pulling her leather jacket back on and leading them both outside. The evening air was crisp, bringing a clearer head and re-arranging the thoughts back into a more sensible state.

Foxy easily picked up her pace to match Natasha's precise strides leading them in the direction of the former's building. The warm buzz of vodka coupled with the fresh air and her desire for retribution well-fed, Foxy settled into a comfortable silence next to the spy. They reached the building quickly, their pace brisk and distractions lacking.

"Care for a nightcap?" She didn't know what prompted her to blurt out the words; as soon as the words registered in her brain, they were already out and Foxy's face heated, fingers fumbling for the keys in her pocket, Natasha's touch still warm and lingering on the side of her leg.

The spy seemed amused, studying Foxy's nervous habits with a crooked smirk. "Sure," she agreed amicably, following the woman into the apartment building, not missing both the rigidity of her back and the added spring to her step.

A moderately sized, well-decorated apartment revealed itself behind the open door, scarcely illuminated by the NYC lights coming in from a glass wall in the living room, reflecting the vast living space furnished with a large couch.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Natasha turned around, stepping into the other woman's personal space with the grace of a predator. Two shining eyes stared back at her in the darkness, framed by fluttering lashes. Foxy's bottom lip disappeared behind her teeth, skin gleaming with perspiration.

The recently-turned blonde spy wasted no time caging the other woman between her body and the door, chests almost touching. The air around them was charged, Foxy's heart thudding loudly in her chest as she gulped. Natasha studied her expression, "You want this?" she whispered against her lips, sharing the oxygen between them.

"Ye-yeah," a short nod and a gasp later, the women were devouring each other, grasping at their hands and shoulders like they were drowning. Hot and wet and sharp from the booze, the kisses were as graceless as their fingers haste in removing each other's top layers of clothing.

The sharp corner of the living room archway dug painfully into Foxy's back, bringing an additional sense of awareness: this was real. This was happening. Natasha's blonde locks flowed through Foxy's fingers, soft and silky, a contrast to the teeth pulling on her lip in impatient hunger. Foxy grunted in response, parting from the other woman to send her t-shirt flying somewhere in the direction of the kitchen.

"Bedroom," mere minutes in and she already sounded utterly and throughly ruined.

"Couch," Natasha was equally feverish to get to the good parts. Her belt was unbuckled and the nice button-up she'd worn hung open, a plain white bra iriscendent on her alabaster skin.

Letting herself be led to the couch, Foxy could barely take her eyes off the woman in front of her, making sure she wasn't ogling Natasha outright yet secretly hoping to be caught anyway. The blonde was like a porcelain doll, unreal, firm and soft at the same time.

The moment Foxy gracelessly landed on the couch, Natasha was all up in her space, straddling the other woman with the grace of a savage cat; lips once more attached to her flesh, Natasha left a trail of hot, wet marks starting at the jawline and ending at the cups of Foxy's bra.

Not knowing what to do with her hands, Foxy grasped Natasha's hips, unable to hold back a moan heavy with lust as the spy ground down with her hips. It was exhilarating to see the other woman affected by their heavy make-out session; nothing short of absolutely smitten to see Natasha pull back, panting and disheveled, to shed her shirt and her bra.

Unable to resist the urge, Foxy's hands reached out to cup the spy's round breasts, tugging her closer to pop a rosy nipple into her mouth. Natasha shivered, arching into the caress, holding onto the other woman's hair and tugging it in the direction only she knew.

Natasha wasn't loud, she wasn't wild; her moans were more like muted gasps but her body spoke for her louder than any words: the grinding was getting more impatient, Natasha's hold grew stronger. As Foxy fumbled for the button of Nat's pants, she felt the soft, delicate lace underneath. Natasha had come prepared.

"Hold on," the spy mumbled, hopping off Foxy's lap to quickly push her pants and panties down her legs with practiced ease. The other woman followed suit, leaving herself to be bare besides her underwear, the attempt to remove them intercepted by Natasha. "Let me," quiet words tickled the skin of her throat where Nat had immediately attached her mouth.

Foxy scrambled to intake the oxygen she needed, letting herself feel the hot glide fully, having lost herself in pleasure, missing the exact moment Nat's fingertips breached the waistband of her panties. Soft and nimble, so different to a man's roughened skin, the sensation was as strange as it was sweet. The urge to arch and rock her hips against the nearest surface intensified and Foxy could only keen, quiet and high, causing Natasha to chuckle to herself.

"Enjoying yourself, sweet girl?" The miniscule trace of coyness seeped into the blonde's voice. The engorged, puffy, moist flesh of Foxy's lower lips parted eagerly to Natasha's experimental dip.

"Yeah, yes," the woman slid down, spreading her legs in invitation. "Please, touch me," begging to be filled in all the empty spaces, Foxy threw her head to rest against the back of the couch, watching Nat through unfocused eyes.

"Oh, I will," the spy purred, sliding lower to put her face next to Foxy's dripping cunt. The spy's fingers glistened with arousal and she popped them into her mouth, licking them clean before doing the same to her lover's swollen folds. The response was instantaneous and loud, Foxy shook under Natasha's expert teasing. "Stay still," she ordered quietly, patting Foxy's belly.

Molten, honeyed waves of bliss overtook common sense and awareness, tiny sparks shooting up Foxy's cunt every time Natasha suckled at her clit. The spy read her body like an open book, following the movements of her hips with her mouth, always a step ahead and slightly south. Foxy's peak was imminent, approaching rapidly, as Natasha's sweet merciless assault wrung every single drop of the thick, precious liquid out of her cunt.

It only seemed to gush more, the woman pushing her cunt into Natasha's face as the latter doubled down on her efforts to bring her to ecstasy.

The waves began deep in the pit of Foxy's stomach, making her legs tremble, her toes curl and the flutters of her cunt increase in speed and intensity. Silky soft and typhoon wet, her orgasm crashed her mind into million pieces and Nat dutifully extracted everything until the last drop with the skillful touch of her tongue and fingers.

"Tash," Foxy moaned. Her legs quivered at the slightest touch to her oversensitive cunt.

"Mhm," was the blonde's reply, contented humming getting closer and closer until the womens lips met once more in a fierce, passionate kiss.

Foxy's hands immediately sought purchase on Natasha's hips, searching for the spots that would make the spy's body song in the same way she'd done to Foxy; seemingly much more reserved, quiet but happy sighs broke past Nat's lips in response to gentle hands stroking where she was most sensitive.

"I've got a vibe in my bedroom," clarity finally broke through the orgasm haze, Foxy's brain slowly coming back to reality.

"No, I want your fingers," Natasha's reply was assertive as she moved her hips in tandem with Foxy's hand, dripping the sweetness of her around all over.

The urge to pop the fingers into her mouth was strong, so Foxy did just that, moaning at the tangy taste, Natasha's breath quietly stuttering at the sight in front of her.

"I want to eat you out," the words barely had left Foxy's mouth as Natasha flipped them so she was the one laying on the couch, spread-eagled and open for the other woman's eager mouth to explore. Wet, sloppy and so, so tender, Foxy let herself taste the arousal of her lover.

"Yeah," so soft, one could easily miss it, the approval didn't get lost in the headrush nonetheless. With grace, Foxy sought the spots that would force Natasha to break her silence with slow, broad motions until the blonde had no choice but to arch her hips into the sensations, chasing her pleasure, losing the aura of restraint she'd so carefully cultivated.

No time for self-control. The temperatures were climbing steadily with every single movement, both lost in their imperfect shared rhythm, the soft of Foxy's tongue and fingers like finest silks on Natasha's eager cunt. Two fingers slipped in without resistance, immediately seeking out the soft, spongy spot that made the blonde's toes curl and mouth open in a silent scream.

Foxy's free hand groped around for Natasha's ass hastily, bringing her hips closer to her mouth, tongue never ceasing its assault on the blonde's clit as her body grew more rigid, fingertips going white with the force she was gripping the comforter.

"Gospodi bozhe," came the mumble, the only warning before Natasha's powerful thighs locked Foxy in place as the blonde rode out her orgasm, violently shivering, dousing the other woman's face in her sweet release. Dutifully, Foxy stroked the silk of Natasha's skin everywhere she could reach, her hot breath on the blonde's pussy easing her back to Earth through the aftershocks.

Natasha's eyes opened, feeling her lover's look of adoration, and she cracked a reluctant but genuine smile. There was something about Foxy that was just so-

Natasha taglist (open, see fic hat for info; crossed out nicknames are the ones I couldn't tag, please update your info):

@mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @persephonehemingway @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @xoxabs88xox @marvelsbanner @sapphicnoodle69

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

bullseye, interlude | popcorn

drabble: ‘bullseye’ couple (fuckboy/fuckgirl) warnings: reader is bisexual; fluff with JK and best friend!KTH

"Who are they?" | "Erm... I don't know. I think I fucked them?" You and your boyfriend, Jeon Jungkook, stand around as two people scream at other about whether or not you're taken. At least Jungkook brought popcorn with him.

pairing(s): est. relationship jungkook x reader

--

"You good-for-nothing prick!"

"You're a dirty bitch!"

A presence sauntered up to the yelling, holding a giant bucket of popcorn and large drink.

"I got half-garlic and half-butter," the silvery voice announced, completely ignoring the shouting and speaking to you. You were standing there, watching the guy and the girl hissing obscenities at each other right in front of your amused expression.

"Ah, Tae's gonna hate me for getting garlic again," you snickered, picking up a piece and chewing on it happily.

"That's fine. I love you," your boyfriend said softly, leaning down to kiss you. You smirked and Jeon Jungkook smirked back before straightening, turning his head to look at the two people yelling. His purple hair was tied back, a few wispy stands framing his handsome face.

"Who are they?"

You scratched your head. "Erm... I don't know. I think I fucked them?"

Jungkook tilted his head.

"You could never make her happy! She's a lesbian!"

"No, she's straight!"

"Actually, I'm bisexual," you quipped.

Both whipped their head around to growl, "Shut up!"

You held your hands up and they went back to mindlessly arguing despite Jungkook, your actual boyfriend, standing right there.

"Do they know we're dating?" Jungkook asked, giving you a questioning look.

"Well, I tried to say," you answered with a nonchalant shrug, splaying your fingers out. "But the girl interrupted the guy, and now it's come to this, so I don't think they're listening..."

Jungkook frowned, a little pout, and pointed to your matching black V-neck sweaters. "But we match."

"Maybe not obvious enough?"

"Should we make out?"

Before you could respond with a sultry, yeah, let's, a speeding honey-brown bullet bolted right for you, excitedly belting your name in booming baritone.

"Hey, hey, hey, guess what?"

"What?" Both you and Jungkook responded at the same time.

Kim Taehyung, your best friend, was far too excited to make fun of you two for replying together. "I saw a girl!"

You raised your eyebrows.

"Wow, Tae, that's amazing," you said in an awed voice that was becoming more sarcastic by the second. "Who would have guessed that girls exist? Holy shit! Not like your best friend is a girl or anything, wooooooow!"

Taehyung waved his large hand impatiently and smacked you in the arm. "No, no, no, you don't understand," he chastised, as if he was talking to a five-year-old. "Remember I made those paintings for that musician that they ended up buying and using for their new single?"

Your eyes widened. "Don't tell me–!"

Taehyung pointed excitedly, flinging his arms around. "She's wearing the merch! With the painting on it!" He wrung his hands nervously. "But she went into the girls’ bathroom and I couldn't say anything... can't exactly follow..."

But you were already bolting past Taehyung, black sweater flapping against your bare thighs as you were off to boast about your best friend and compliment the shit out of the girl for having excellent taste.

Taehyung grinned, giddy and bursting with appreciation at your fierce support for him before he noticed security walking towards him. Oh shit. Oh, wait. No. Past him. He spun around to see the shouting pair, hearing your name being spat between the two. He shot Jungkook a curious look, who shrugged with the popcorn and drink.

"Did she date them?" Taehyung muttered, using the word 'date' very, very loosely and really just meaning 'fuck-em-and-ghost-em'. Security forcefully separated the two, who began trying to slap each other even as they were being dragged out of the movie theater.

"Think so?"

Taehyung thinned his mouth to a line and marched up to Jungkook, staring down at the popcorn bucket.

"Garlic again?! I swear she only gets garlic to fucking breathe in my face, that bi–"

-

more bullseye!couple threesome, ft kth — got it bad

–

drabbles masterpost | masterpost

[brendaaaa]

Bruh (Sophia Lillis x Reader)

This is my first tumblr post of my writing and I'm really scared ahshjsjg, but lmk if you like it!! -Brenda

“Ahhhh,” Sophia said. “God bless the air conditioner at Target.”

“Amen, Hallelujah,” your eyes fluttered close as the wonderful cool air hit your sweaty skin.

It has been kind of a bad day. You and Soph had both started your periods this morning, which was kind of funny, kind of not. You might find more humor in it later, once all the cramps were gone. Which could be a while. For now you were both content to stay home, watch some tv and eat chocolate ice cream, and most importantly, keep out the dense summer heat just outside the door.

But of course you just had to be low in stock on lady supplies, so you two had to postpone your day of pain/relaxation together and brave the sweltering weather. It was a short walk from the house to the car, which had AC, and so that wasn’t too much of a hassle, but it was really the hot walk across the Target parking lot in 110 degree air that was not going to be fun. But alas, you both made it.

“Let’s get what we need, and then get the hell out of here,” you told your girlfriend.

“Let’s do it,” she agreed.

You made your way to the feminine product aisle and both picked out your respective choices.

“We should buy some candy too,” Sophia grinned, the sweat now gone off of her face.

You nodded enthusiastically, and you both added some sugary goodness to your basket.

When you were all finished, you guys headed to the checkout line. The dude at the register was a skinny guy with a purple nose piercing and long blonde hair. His eyes were kind of vacant and he didn’t look too smart. His dorky name tag said ‘Paul’

“Hello, ladies,” he said in a nasally voice. “How are you today?” He began to scan the items slowly.

“Never better,” you say, your sarcasm only registering with Sophia, who nodded empathetically with a sad grin on her face.

“Well that’s good,” Paul remarked, scanning Sophia’s bag of Milky Way chocolate bars. He looked up at you. “Are you guys related? Sisters?”

Sophia turned to look at you, grinning widely, and back at the dude.

“Bruh,” was all you said. Sophia laughed (Please watch...go to 2:13 for Sophia’s amazing laugh) and you couldn’t help but join.

Paul stared at you guys with a blank expression.

“I’ll take that as a no?”

“No Paul,” Sophia said sarcastically, looking at his name tag, “we’re sisters.”

And with that she leaned over and kissed you full on the lips. At first you were a little caught off guard, you were not expecting her to do that, but you got into it real quick.

When  you broke apart and glanced back at Paul, his mouth was sort of open and his eyes were wide, bewilderment splattered on his face.

“So you’re a…” he stroked his chin. “What was it...a lez-bean?”

“Uh...a lesbian, you mean?” You ask, trying to hold back laughter. He nodded.

“Actually no,” Sophia said, “I’m a bisexual.” And she swiped her credit card.

“C’mon, y/n, the couch is calling my name.”

Paul still stood dumbfounded as you guys walked away.

When you were halfway out the door, he called out,

“Uh, bye? Hope to see you again! Target loves diverse customers!”

And you looked at Soph, and she looked at you, and you guys busted out laughing, all the way to the car.

“Bruh,” she said, shaking her head. “He was sooo stupid.”

Word Count: 595

[rantingcrocodile]

febfem isn't about quantifying attraction it's about choosing to partner with women. a febfem whose attraction leans heavily toward men is still a febfem. and it doesn't erase bisexuality anymore than butch erases lesbian, it's bisexual exclusive and the b stands for bisexual.

febfem was created BY bi women FOR bi women, we get enough hate from non bisexuals and we don't need hate from other bisexuals as well. we need a word for ourselves to build community and describe our unique experience, don't shoot other bisexual women down

I'm going to copy and paste what I actually said again, because this kind of ask is actually really useful.

Febfem women: try challenging any internalised biphobia by putting "bisexual (febfem)” in your bios to stop distancing yourself from your bisexuality. Being a febfem is a manifestation of your bisexuality. It’s a qualifier for your bisexuality. Don’t fall into the trap of starting to treat it like this space’s version of “pansexuality.”

What you're trying to argue is that the qualifier is more important however the individual bisexual woman's bisexual attractions manifest.

It's still a qualifier.

Realistically, when it comes to actual, individual experiences of bisexuality (without any politicisation or feminism that you're talking about!) we have "febfem" for bisexual women who are bisexual, but who heavily and naturally prefer other women, and we have "pansexual" for the bisexual women who are around the "50/50" when it comes to naturally mixed attraction to both sexes.

However, we know that the term "pansexual" didn't turn out to be a quick and easy, "I'm a pan bisexual because my bisexuality means that I feel attraction to/fall in love with whoever clicks," it turned into virtue-signalling, "I'm a pansexual because I'm not transphobic like the people that call themselves bisexual, please don't call me transphobic, I'm a Good Trans Ally," like it's an entirely separate, pro-trans sexuality instead of the truth that they're just bisexual. It was politicised.

It's exactly the same with "febfem." There are plenty of bisexual women that are using "febfem" as a quick and easy, "I'm a febfem bisexual because my bisexuality means that I'm a bisexual woman primarily attracted to other women and hardly feel attraction for men, so I'm most likely to naturally just feel attraction to/fall in love with other women over men," but it's also turned into, "I'm a febfem because I'm not a gross bihet who obsesses over men and will probably partner with men like the women that just call themselves bisexual, don't worry, I'm a Good Feminist," like it's an entirely separate and feminist sexuality instead of the truth that they're just bisexual.

Really think about it. Why do you see "call yourself bisexual too" as an attack, and why aren't you thinking about exactly why you're so resistant to accepting that you're simply bisexual as well as the politicisation?

Since I'm being blunt this morning, how on earth do you expect to built a feminist bisexual community that prioritises partnering with women in a space where the majority of bisexual women have massive internalised biphobia? Why don't you care about building a feminist bisexual community first, when we're splintered to the point that biphobes deliberately pit us against each other and laugh as they achieve their own goals thanks to so much internalised biphobia in bisexual women? When febfems are so fetishised and the term is expected of bisexual women to be seen as "good" if they talk about their bisexuality? (Yes, I see the feminists that call themselves "bisexual" in their bios and then carefully never mention bisexuality, like the "bisexual" in their bios is an apology, don't worry about that.)

You're saying "our unique experience" like I wouldn't be using the exact same label as yourself if I felt like adding it in, since it would be just as true for me? Are you presuming that any mention of internalised biphobia automatically must mean that I can't be female exclusive in my political preferences now?

You see now why I'm ruthless when it comes to internalised biphobia.

Nobody else is challenging you to actually sit and think.

[vampish-glamour]

I'm a bi girl, and honestly... Can people stop confusing bi with lesbian? Like I have nothing against people who are lesbian, but I feel like this phenomenon of women not *exclusively* attracted to women calling themselves lesbian (a) dilutes the meaning of the word lesbian and (b) contributes to bi erasure. Even if you lean towards women, if you're attracted to both sexes, what's wrong with calling yourself bi?

It’s extremely harmful to both bisexuals and lesbians. For bisexuals, it means people who are actually bisexual not calling themselves that (likely due to stigma), and contributing to bi erasure. For lesbians, it means people claiming that lesbians can be attracted to men, that lesbians can be attracted to male sex characteristics, and contributing to the idea that lesbians should/can be available to men. All these things are things that both bisexuals and lesbians have been trying to fight against for a while.

I think it has to do with both internalized biphobia and glorification of homosexuality. What I mean is, people don’t want to accept that they’re bisexual, so they don’t call themselves bisexual. Even though they know they’re attracted to both sexes, they see being gay as some cool neat thing to be, so they call themselves lesbians despite clearly being bisexual.

In other words, to them bi = bad and lesbian = super fun and good.

[mrs-nate-humphrey]

This is totally cool, lol! That's why I tagged you, I like different perspectives 🥰 and I adore lesbian Jenny

I've been thinking a lot about Jenny's character and sexuality lately since I'm in the middle of rewatching the show. I totally agree that she's attracted to women and most times she pursues guys it's mainly to increase social status and not because of genuine interest. Nate always felt different to me, though. Like, the two times she really pursues him is in season 2, when she's being homeschooled and trying to make it as a designer, and the end of season 3, which is after the whole Damien drama and she's just looking for someone who cares about her and respects her (I know you said once that it doesn't even feel romantic here, which I also agree with, poor girl just needs a connection). I do really see how it can be interrupted as comphet, though. Like she feels like she's supposed to be attracted to Nate because who wouldn't be?

I think the reason why I lean the other way is probably just projection. Jenny's been my favourite GG character since I first watched the show when I was 12, partly because I relate a lot to her, and since I'm bisexual... Add that plus the fact that I totally have had a crush on Nate and of course I'm gonna ship them. I've been relating to Jenny even more this time around cause I dropped out of school this year, so her season 2 arc really hit close to me. So this made my jenate feelings come back tenfold and also made me that much madder at Rufus, lol. I just wanted to go through the screen and shake his shoulders like "There are other paths than the one you want your daughter to have, not everyone has to go through life like society expects you to let your daughter carve out her own unconventional path you fucking idiot!" Luckily my parents have been way more supportive.

Mainly I just see Jenny as bi with a strong lean towards women, but I like to think about lesbian Jenny, too. It wouldn't exactly be the first time I had contradicting headcanons.

I don't know I just think it's really cool that different people can have such different interpretations of the same character. I think that's what's so interesting about fiction, to see how we view things differently depending on how we view and relate to things based on our own experiences. Tumblr can be so focused on hating people who disagree with you, but I like following people with different opinions, it helps me understand people better.

Yeah, I'm glad you tagged me!! back in November, some anons were mean to me about shipping Jenate (me??? who literally does not even - anyway) and ever since then I've been trying extra to ensure that Jenate shippers feel welcome on my blog - you may already know this, because I've brought it up before, but I'm saying it here to let you know that every time you tag me in your Jenate edits I get so happy that you're sharing something you're so passionate about with me!! I'm also a big believer of like........ making the content you want to see (a big part of why I even learnt to gif is because nobody was giffing Dan & Nate, and I was like...... that's the content I need, so if it's not already existing, I'm gonna make it happen!) so regardless of my feelings it's always so cool to see the way you conceptualise JN + their feelings re: each other, and your choice of scenes + lyrics (??? I'm not actually familiar with where you got the words for your edits, they're likely songs I haven't heard, haha) is just so interesting & good!

OH my full Jenny & Nate feelings are a lot more complicated than just comphet on Jenny's part. I feel like..... neither of them was romantically/sexually into each other? and that is kind of the appeal to me? I've always interpreted Nate's interest in Jenny during the s2 arc as sort of like - everything in his life is so unstable and undetermined, and here is Jenny who is so clear on who she is and what she wants, and he admires and respects that, and he wants to be there for her and support her, so when she kisses him he just sort of lets her take their dynamic wherever she wants to? that is very much the vibe I got. You already know how I feel about lesbian Jenny, I mean, you quoted my meta right back at me :'))

but I DO agree with you that Nate is different from the other guys to Jenny. JN have this really specific kind of honesty to them - well, when Jenny wasn't spiralling and trying to get power and acting out, and when the writers actually cared? I still think that NJ had the potential to be a SOLID dynamic but the writers made it sorta unhealthy on the show :(( - but I've spoken abt moments like in seventeen candles and the empire strikes jack before, where they're both able to be emotionally vulnerable around each other in ways we don't see them be with anyone else. I've even compared that to what I like about Derena, whom everyone knows I ship in every possible way, haha. But there's something about characters who trust each other and allow themselves to be honest with each other in ways that they wouldn't otherwise EVER be - especially with characters like Jenny & Nate who have spent so long trying to seem fine and okay even when they're really not.

I honestly really like the idea of queerplatonic Jenate - they're life partners, they're each other's rock, they're each other's person - but it's not romantic OR sexual - and for Nate & Jenny, whose adolescence has involved navigating other people sexualising them so much + not having the best track record with romantic relationships - for them, I feel being qpps gets REALLY interesting, because you get all the perks of a relationship without the romantic/sexual obligations? (obligations isn't the best word, but i don't know what else to use here? LOL) and that's something i love to explore.

I feel like book Jenny was bi! The way she gushed about Nate, whom she canonically had a crush on, and the way she gushed about Serena were EXACTLY the same. Also YES I love multiple headcanons always, it's a lot of fun seeing people explore that!!! I know people who have aroace readings of Jenny, or aro lesbian / ace lesbian readings of her, and I find that really cool, too!

I also definitely get you about relating to Jenny a lot, and feeling that kind of connection. It's similar to how I feel about Dan, and .... explains a lot of my contradicting dair views, actually. A few years ago I had a seriously intense crush on a girl who was... a lot like Blair, in many ways. I spent a ridiculous amount of time writing poetry about her, etc etc, but I never actually acted on it. If she'd fabricated schemes that involved us kissing, though..... I don't know. I don't think I would've denied it if I'd felt like I actually had a chance. I think we just had a case of bad timing, & I like to think in another universe, maybe we were actually together for a bit. I'm glad that your parents are supportive of you and better than Rufus! <3

I think that's what's so interesting about fiction, to see how we view things differently depending on how we view and relate to things based on our own experiences <- THIS exactly! this is a big part of why that "proship" is in my bio. like this is exactly what it means to me and how I conceptualise & understand it!!! Like you, I also like engaging with people who have different understandings and opinions of the characters -> it definitely helps you make new friends you would otherwise not meet by staying in your bubble, & from a fandom point of view, it also helps you develop a more nuanced understanding of a character. Some of the best written Jenny Humphrey I've read was in Jenate fics - and I've had people who don't even ship Blenny tell me they liked the way I wrote Jenny in my post canon blennyfic, so... idk. it's loving Jenny hours - each and every single iteration of Jenny!!!

[mrskurono]

I definitely gotta say my indecisiveness is trauma based but if I didn't have that I wouldn't be as hesitant, especially towards emotions 😂. If it's a goal, I do whatever I want and I do it. And totally, I know maybe one day I'll have kids but I'm nowhere ready. Because I'm not about to continue the same stuff that's been in my family for years.

And I was wondering, if you have an advice on like accepting my sexuality. Because I thought I was bisexual. But the more I thought on it, I realized I was pansexual. And I just have trouble accepting that part of myself- 🐐

In this house we call trauma “spicy memories!” (god don’t ask the kinda bullshit my brother and I come up with ok lolol they them zesty memories)

Growing and identifying the things you don’t want to inflict on your kids is a huge thing. But it shouldn’t keep you from having them if you really really want them so remember that!

Oh oh oh!!! I actually just went through this!! (along with a little gender identify issue)  To start off when I first had my crush on my wife I thought I was bisexual. Which was good for a bit but after dating a few dudes too I realize I literally don’t care what gender someone was so I went with the pansexual label for quite a few years. But as of recently I began to realize I might not be apt to date men again/have little desire to date them. So I’ve been leaning on the fact I might be just a lesbian (not excluding transgender women bc frankly to me they’re still women) it’s hard though bc as you guys can tell I do have a lot of fictional dude crushes. And you know, if Kageyama was real or I met someone like that, chances are I would be very much in love with them but fact is I’m just that picky. So am I pansexual? A lesbian? Demisexual? I’m not honestly sure yet and that’s ok! The way you feel today might not be how you feel 5 yrs, 10 yrs, 20 yrs down the lane. Or you might feel the act same and you know you’re pansexual. There’s no hard set rule that means you have to be one thing. Having a word to describe yourself is nice but not always necessary and I’d honestly not stress it. You can call yourself bi one day and pan the next and that’s totally valid. You are who you are and you’re always changing and taking in new things. Don’t sweat what your label is hun. And if you need a label? Then pick what most feels true to you on any given day. You are not contracted to always be bi or always be pan. You are you and thats perfect <3

[aresaphrodites]

i hope i'm not too late for the sentence starters! if i am just ignore this oop. Archison + "Forget it, you're a fucking asshole."

You’re definitely not too late and can I just say THANK YOU FOR SENDING ME THIS. Archison is my freaking LOVE and the fact that it’s nearly nonexistent is so tragic to me. Almost as tragic as them in this little fic, that I hope you enjoy. ;) 

Archie Andrews stares at the couple in front of him, his heart feeling like it’s going to fall out of his chest. He’s never been a jealous guy. He’s never felt any kind of anger towards any of his exes; not even when Veronica broke up with him for his best friend, Reggie. He had just smiled and told her he understood, because he did. He’s nothing if not an understanding and easy going guy. It takes a lot to throw him off and even more to piss him off. Unless your name is Jason Blossom. 

This thing with Jason was supposed to be just that; a thing. It was one of those things where they’d gotten a little too drunk at a party, were way too comfortable around each other, were way too touchy, and somehow it ended up with them shirtless and kissing in Jason’s bedroom. It should have been just that; a drunken kiss between two, otherwise, normally straight dudes. 

Except Archie kissed Jason again and again and again. He kissed him so much that he can remember the feeling of his lips against his own as he lays down for bed. He kissed him so much that when he’d gotten dared to kiss Toni at another party, he’d chugged a bottle of Vodka instead. He kissed him so much that he knows he definitely is not straight anymore. Archie’s kissed Jason Blossom so much that he’s somehow fallen in love with him. It wouldn’t be the end of the world, either. Cheryl and Toni are a couple. Veronica confessed that she’s bisexual and even Betty had admitted that even though she’s very happily taken, she’s always been open to dating anyone. So really, the fact that Archie’s playing at being straight doesn’t really make sense, but he does it for one reason and one reason only. 

‘If my dad finds out I like guys, that’s it.’ Jason’s cheeks are red from the wind blowing harshly against him, but Archie feels like it might also be because he’s nervous. ‘I’m out of the house, I’m out of the family.’ 

‘Cheryl’s a lesbian and he doesn’t seem to care about that.’ It’s petty and childish and Archie’s fully aware that he’s not being fair, but he can’t help it. He’s so tired of having to watch Jason be the stupid playboy that everyone seems to think he is. He’s so tired of having to pretend that they don’t sneak away for hours just to mess around. He’s tired of hiding. 

‘It’s different for Cheryl. She’s the angel of the family, his little girl. She’ll never be able to do wrong in his eyes. I’m his son, the man who has to lead this family one day, who will have to run the Blossom empire. I can’t do that if I like boys.’ The words sting but Archie just clenches his jaw. 

‘You don’t even want the family business!’ Because Jason’s told him that, because they talk in the late hours of the night as they lay down, wrapped up in each other on Archie’s too-small bed. 

‘I can’t like boys,’ Jason says softly like he’s trying to talk Archie off an invisible ledge. ‘Not publicly.’ 

Which is how he ends up a dirty little secret. He’s used to sneaking around. Mr. Lodge hadn’t liked him, so the majority of his relationship with Veronica had been a huge secret, at least from her parents. He sneaks Jason in and out of his house so his dad doesn’t catch them, even though Fred Andrews is well aware of the fact that his son likes boys. He’d given Archie a lovely speech about acceptance and love and the importance of protection “even if neither one of you can actually get pregnant” that Archie tries to forget about. He’s used to sneaking around with Jughead as they pull pranks on their friends and classmates. So yeah, he’s used to sneaking around, but he hates that he has to lie about Jason being his boyfriend. 

That’s what he is, even if he won’t outright say the words. Jason Blossom is his stupid fucking boyfriend and Archie wants to scream it from the top of the highest building in Riverdale, but he can’t. He can’t tell a single soul. 

“You good, man?” Jughead, the wonderful friend that he is, nudges Archie once he realizes that he’s not paying attention to their group of friends and hasn’t been for a while. 

“Yeah,” Archie whispers and then clears his throat, forcing himself to tear his eyes away from Jason and Polly fucking Cooper, of all people. “Yeah, I’m fine.” But he definitely is not fine. 

Jason isn’t actively flirting with Polly, Archie knows that, but the blonde has her arms wrapped around his bicep as she leans her head against his shoulder. They’re playing beer pong and Polly’s watching Jason like he hung the damn moon when all he’s doing is throwing a stupid ball into a stupid cup. Archie doesn’t understand how he’s even doing that with Polly hanging off of him. 

Betty follows where Archie’s eyes had been and rolls hers once she catches sight of them. 

“God, it’s so annoying, isn’t it? Polly hasn’t shut up all week about how Jason asked her out to the movies.” 

Archie’s entire body goes cold at his best friend’s words. He looks at Betty and she just looks annoyed at the news, maybe even a little grossed out, and Archie can relate because he feels like he’s going to throw up. 

“What?” He manages to get out. “When?” 

Betty shrugs. “I think they’re supposed to go this weekend, I don’t know. Why?” 

Why? Because that’s not part of the fucking plan. Archie stays in the closet for his stupid boyfriend and in return, Jason doesn’t have to worry about any rumors over why he spends so much time with Archie Andrews. That’s the plan. He’s not supposed to go on dates with other people. He sure as hell isn’t supposed to go on dates with Polly Cooper, who is the literal embodiment of an angel. She’s gorgeous, smart, funny, kind, a fucking River Vixen, and she’s the exact kind of person that his parents would approve of. The realization hits him in the chest and he suddenly feels like he can’t breathe. His eyesight is going blurry and he blinks a couple of times to try and make the stupid tears go away. 

“Arch?” Betty’s worried voice rings out. “Hey, are you okay?” 

“Archie!” Jughead snaps when he stumbles out of the chair he was sitting in. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” he finally gets out, but his voice is shaky and not at all believable. “It’s just a little loud in here. I’m gonna get some fresh air.” 

“Do you want me to come?” Betty asks, but both her and Jughead stand up. 

“No, no. It’s okay. I’ll be right back.” 

He turns and runs out of the living room before they can try to question him anymore. He doesn’t want to have to answer to them, or even see them, because he knows that he’ll break down and tell them everything. It’s all starting to get to be too much and he doesn’t know how much longer he can do this for. 

He’s counting his breaths to himself as he sits down on the cold grass when he feels someone come up behind him.

“Archie?” 

He closes his eyes at the voice. He loves that voice with everything in him, in a way he’s never loved anyone else’s, but the excitement he usually feels at hearing it is suddenly replaced with an intense kind of hurt that he’s never felt before. He thinks that might be the worst part of all of this. 

“Go away,” he says petulantly.

“Archie, come on.” Jason sounds exasperated, but there’s an edge to his voice like he’s pleading with him. “Don’t be mad at me. Please?” 

He whirls around to look at Jason and it’s not until he’s finally standing up and facing him, that his eyes start to water again. He’s so beautiful and he’s looking at Archie like he’s the most precious thing in his life and maybe Archie would have believed that at one point, but he’s not sure that he does anymore. 

“You asked her out on a date,” he says and he hates how broken he sounds. 

“It’s not like that,” Jason sighs and he even has the audacity to sound annoyed. 

“Then what is it like, Jason? Please, tell me!” His voice is rising now, but he’s so past caring. 

“Lower your voice.” Apparently Jason is not. 

“How would you feel if you saw me flirting with Veronica right in front of you?” Jason frowns and takes a step back as if the idea of it is too much. “Or what if I asked Kevin out on a date?” 

Jason goes pale, which is funny because he’s already so fucking pale against the moonlight. Archie would laugh if any of this was even remotely funny. 

“You wouldn’t,” he says, but it sounds more like a broken plea. 

“Of course I wouldn’t!” Archie yells, because he doesn’t care. They’re alone outside and the music is so loud in the house that there’s no way anyone can hear them. “Because I love you!” Jason recoils at the confession and Archie smiles sadly. “I’m in love with you, so of course I would never do that.” 

“Archie…” Jason’s looking at him like maybe he can give him the answers to all of this. “Archie, I…” 

“Forget it,” he says, voice resigned. “You’re a fucking asshole, Jason. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t pretend to be just your friend while you go and ask another girl out on a date. I can’t.” 

“What do you mean?” Jason asks, voice coming out slightly hysterical. “Hey, hey!” He reaches out to grab Archie’s hand as the other boy tries to leave. His eyes are wild as they search Archie’s face. “You can’t… you can’t be done, Arch. Please, I just… I need time.” 

“I can give you time. I can give you all the time in the world, but I can’t sit by and watch you flirt with other people and date them too. I won’t do that, Jason. I’m sorry.” And he is. He’s so sorry. 

“Please,” Jason begs. “I can’t lose you, Archie.” 

“But I’m just supposed to lose you, right?” Archie pulls his hand out of Jason’s gently. He’s not mad. He’s just… he’s tired. “I’ve always been yours, Jason. But you were never really mine.” 

A tear falls from Jason’s eye and he opens his mouth to say something, but Archie doesn’t hear him. He’s already halfway gone. 

send me a sentence starter + a prompt 

[lesbian-ed]

Hi! I'm really shy, but have a question and I think you guys can answer it better than anyone I know, so here's the thing: what if I know that I'm a lesbian, but when someone asks me, I just can't say it out loud? I will say that yeah, yeah, I like girls, but I can't get the word "lesbian" out of my mouth. I don't know why, because I'm definitely out of the closet though (I'm a butch so it's pretty visible I'm gay). Any advice? Does it happen to anyone else but me? Thanks in advance

Hello, anon!

I’ve been in your shoes. I’ve always been visibly gay as well, so it really was a bit strange to not be able to say the word ‘lesbian’ out loud in those first few years. To me, there was even the fact that, in my country, the word for it has the /k/ phoneme at the end (we say ‘lésbica’), which gives it a very striking sound – there’s no ignoring the word if someone says it aloud; you’re gonna attract attention when you say it.

‘Gay’ ended up being my go-to word in those times. Everyone knew what it meant and it sounded ‘friendlier’ – it wasn’t about wanting to distance myself from ‘rabid, hairy lesbians swinging axes and killing men’ (I always wanted to be nearer to this mythological creature that apparently inhabits the public consciousness, tbqh), it was just shame, I suppose. We all have to deal with our internalized lesbophobia at some point and I had tons of it to sort through. And even though I’m butch, I wasn’t out to my family for quite a while, so there was this half-life I was living: being out to the world and at the same time just formally undefined within my own house. In fact, it’s still hard to say ‘lesbian’, to people in my family, even if it’s not about me, though I’ve been daring lately.

Maybe that’s the answer, though, daring to say it. Not to everyone in the world, of course, you’re not going to get on a bus and randomly tell the driver, ‘good morning, I’m a lesbian’! But if you’re around trusted friends, if you’re in an environment where you can be open about it – why fall back on euphemisms? Why should we ever be ashamed of being who we are?

I’ve said it in another post, but lesbian carries meaning: it has weight, it has a history and it has pride. The fact that we hear this word being thrown around lightly, that we’re subjected to heterosexuals’ leers and frowns and derisive chuckles should not shame us out of our own word.

And it is ours, say others what they may, because none of the others available translate the certainty it does; it doesn’t have that nebulous and frankly juvenile connotation that comes with ‘sapphic’; it doesn’t encompass bisexuality as the useless ‘wlw’ acronym does; it doesn’t include homosexual men as ‘gay’ does; it isn’t as completely meaningless and all-embracing (when not offensive) as ‘queer’ – lesbian is clear-cut. It’s beautiful, it’s powerful to recognize yourself in a definition without having to explain further and to know that it holds not just yourself, but a whole plethora of women who are just like you; it’s amazing to know that, listen, strictly homosexual women actually exist and we’ve existed since the dawn of time -- and we have a word for that! Language is sometimes so lacking, but we have a word that speaks to us. Heteros have tried to take it (be it men stealing it to describe their vile pornographic creations or women co-opting it to justify their political leanings), the trans/q*eer crowd is trying to take it (and erase its meaning and us in the process), but they can’t have it. Try as they might, they cannot and shall not have it.

We are lesbians. And we shall not be made to feel ashamed of it, we shall not be scared off by the word that defines us.

See, daring to find strength in the word is a start – and there is so much strength in knowing who you are, there is so much strength in our recognizing ourselves, even though society tries to hide our natural existence at every cost, tries to make us believe we are hysteric, ill, gross… They can tell all the lies they want, but we, lesbians, are here, we’ve always been here.

I don’t know when things changed and I dropped other words, I don’t know when it will happen to you. But it started when I understood all that is contained in this simple little word, when I read it as a lesbian rather than with the glasses heterosexist society had given me; when it wasn’t heterosexuals’ twisted ideas of us, but when it translated our history, when it brought to mind all the lesbians that came before me – the writers I admire, the artists, the scientists, but also the ‘common’ lesbians who managed to live their lives authentically in defiance of the established order just by loving their partners fully, even if their names have not been passed down onto us…

A few days ago, I went out with an old friend of mine who was there when I first came out. In those times, I don’t think lesbian ever passed my lips. Now? I wear it with honour, I speak it with respect, love, passion. For it is mine, I am it; it does not limit me, it has freed me. And by heavens, it’s a beautiful word and although I was just born like this out of some random occurence in nature, I’m damn fucking proud of being a lesbian.

Say it, write it, roll it around on your tongue, anon. Strip it of the negative meanings others have associated with it, meanings that have nothing to do with it or with us. Dare to name yourself, dare to be. Slowly if you must, but surely.

/Mod T

[22degreehalo]

Honestly, this is really interesting because in a lot of ways I've gotten the same result but from almost inverted parameters, right down to being aroace rather than bi (but I still largely relate better to sexuality, and bisexuality, rather than gender or being gay).

For me, I like the 'overly polite, tasteful, un-horny, neat-and-tidy' characters. (Well, not the tasteful part.) That's just who I am as a an aroace, neurodivergent person (though, again, not at ALL the tasteful part. Also not so neat normally as well.) And honestly, I'm actually super fucking over the seeming universalness of these constantly mean and snarky characters and bickering dynamics where everyone is trying hard all the time to be the most wittily mean and never admit to actually caring about a thing. I hate it.

But. Here's the thing. Since I was little, I've always known that I am just not a Feminist woman. Female characters like me are Bad Female Representation. Honestly? The ones I relate to best, that feel the most like someone I am or could be, come from anime. Yknow, those cliched moe girls who are cutesily quirky and fail at ordinary things but are just so darned nice and earnest! As someone with ADHD, that is honestly kind of how I am. But that's deeply unfeminist, so it makes me feel very guilty.

The only Correct way to write women is to make them the opposite of that. Hyper competent, snarky, rude, and Not Interested In Being Nice. The only acceptable character development is to take an insecure sweet girl and make her Not Take Anyone's Shit and have her realise she's actually flawlessly amazing at things and it's only other people who are the problem. And I can't relate to a single word of that.

Men, though? You know all those stories about the expectations of masculinity, the pressure to be perfect, the shame of expressing emotions, and the difficulty connecting to other people? Those things I can relate to. And when you pick those things apart, and let those men be vulnerable and like silly girly things without shame and be kind and choose something other than violence, that's feminist.

When women are the focus, the Woke thing is to judge who is the victim and who has it too easy and deserves punishment and scorn. When men are the focus, the Woke thing is to try to carefully untangle responsibility from trauma and find a path to making the world better through understanding and kindness and the recognition that we're all flawed and just have to keep trying. At least, in my experience.

Not to mention that female-foused works tend to lean VERY heavily into """"the sisterhood"""" which uhhhhhhH as a ND aroace I sure have never gotten to experience myself. And the fetishising of f+f relationships as inherently flawless and full of perfect understanding just makes me feel super uncomfortable and bad. Which, yknow, is also why 'women who are tired of being mistreated and making it everyone else's problem' isn't empowering for me. My experience is of being on the other side of that. Of being the one that hurt lesbians and bi women "punched up" at. I don't want to remember that and I do not want to do it to anyone else.

To make it clear, I don't actually want 'Perfect Stories Where Everyone Is Unproblematic And Nothing Bad Ever Happens.' (I mean, not all the time? Sometimes stories like that do make me happy, though! And I think that's okay!) I like tragedy. I like deeply flawed humans. I like all kinds of dark and twisted topics that make me deeply scared of antis. But what I'm most interested in are stories about people who care about being good, even if they're very awful at doing that, and works which scrutinise morality as a complex and interesting topic. But female-focused works are very rarely interested in that. Usually, morality is treated as very simple: if a woman wants to be nice, she's a saint (in a way inextricably connected to womanhood, and yep I'm uncomfortable again), and otherwise, she's a 'loveable asshole' (a character type I, in all honesty, outright dislike at this point, and yes I know how strange and boring that makes me sound. Sorry).

Also f/f shippers are often Actual Lesbians soooo me as an aroace who doesn't feel much connection to womenhood is deeply intimidated by them because I honestly think they're better than me and I still get worried deep down that I'm ~invading lesbian communities~ by being there. Whereas in m/m there's a wider variety of people and I can actually make myself believe that if someone does something to hurt me it might actually possibly be that they did something bad and not that me feeling bad actually just proves I'm a bad person, which is how I feel in f/f.

If there were more f/f stories about struggling with shame and learning to embrace kindness and sincerity as something that isn't always easy but is always worth trying, about how people who don't seem to be struggling often very much are, about the intense difficulty of knowing or being known by other people, then I would read them a lot more. But there just isn't - or at least, none which don't also fetishise womanhood in a way that triggers my deep discomfort.

A lot of us feel like that. It always surprises people, but it’s so common.

[violentviolette]

I'll give u that this survey suffers from the same limitations that all self reporting surveys inherently suffer from in that ur only getting a snapshot of a particular circle and kind of people and so the results will be skewed in that bias and therefore this alone wouldnt be good enough science for a peer reviewed paper

at the same time, its reporting does in fact reflect that of real life queer spaces. I'm 30 and have been deeply involved in real life queer activism and front line community engagement programs since I was 16 in New York and Pittsburgh, with close personal ties to people who are involved in the communities in Miami and New Orleans, and this is the reality of those spaces. I've run 3 separate GSA's, interned for a university multicultural center for 2 years, done educational programing at universities and queer conferences, I've done rural community outreach and engagement, worked with queer teen homeless shelters, organized protests and counter-protests, u name I've done it. I know my history, I know my community, and I understand the direct impact it has.

the use of the word queer has literally never gone out of circulation, it has never been a contested issue irl with anyone other than terfs and lesbian exclusionists, who are overwhelmingly cis, white, and financially secure. any community center, shelter, conference, support group, alliance, or educational department worth its salt uses queer in their official language because they're being run by actual queer people. queer has always been shorthand for intercommunity

the inclusion of ace and aro people is a literal non starter in irl spaces. they have been a documentable part of our shared community since the 60s and built it alongside us the same way bisexuals and trans people did. weve all always been here and we can prove it. my group used to have a wonderful documentary from the 70s or 80s about ace identities and inclusion and their space in our community. If anyone wants it I will go digging. but either way, real life spaces are open and welcoming because we understand what it means to turn people away. we are confronted every day with the realities of what happens to any of us when we dont conform to cisheteronormativity.

and so real life queer spaces are always going to lean left, to be more inclusive, to accept broader language that encompasses as many of us as it can. because doing otherwise literally kills people. exclusionists are always the minority because exclusionism is the first step down the path to conservatism. terfs, transmeds, swerfs, exclusionists all weild an extreamist conservative ideology that frankly leads nowhere but fascism and white supremacy.

Friendly reminder that LGBTQ+, Queer, and LGBT+ are the preferred terms for the community (x).

Friendly reminder that Queer is approved by 72.9% of the people, and the groups who don’t prefer it’s use as an umbrella term are straight people, exclusionists, transmeds, truscums, sex-negative people, and sex work critical people (x).

Friendly reminder that aros and aces are excluded only 9.2% / 8.1% of the time respectively while being included  78.9% / 81.2% of the time (x)

Friendly reminder that exclusionists are in the minority and aro/ace people are included in the LGBTQ+ community by the people within the community.

[lunafeather]

People who claim that Eleanor is queerbaiting do not understand what that word actually means.

"Queerbaiting is the practice of hinting at, but then not actually depicting, a same-sex romantic relationship between characters in a work of fiction, mainly in film or television. The potential romance may be ignored, explicitly rejected or made fun of.

The derogatory term "queerbaiting" is meant to imply that this is done for the purpose of attracting ("baiting") a queer audience with the ultimately unrealized suggestion of relationships that appeal to them."

Nowhere has The Good Place come anywhere NEAR doing ANY of this. They never hint at Eleanor possibly being with a woman only to yank it away, they never tease the audience into think she's falling for/getting involved with another woman only for it not to happen, there's nothing to ignore or reject (in fact, the show openly acknowledges and accepts Eleanor's attraction to women), and whatever jokes are made are Eleanor REVELING in her bisexuality, not jokes made at it's expense. The same horny/silly/suggestive jokes/comments she makes towards women she makes towards men as well.

They do not have Eleanor doing anything specifically to attract queer audiences; she is merely expressing her sexuality in a subtle way. As a male-leaning bisexual, the fact that the show makes no effort to hide Eleanor's attraction to the women around her while most of her relationships are with men makes me feel represented, especially in the face of so many gays and lesbians who insist that I'm not valid unless I'm with a woman. Would it be nice for Eleanor to say she's bisexual out loud? Sure, but that's not her style and I like the subtlety.

If you want to see queerbaiting, go watch Rizzoli and Isles, the MASTER of queerbaiting. Come talk to me when The Good Place releases a poster of Eleanor and Tahani linked by handcuffs with the words "Bound for Life" emblazoned across it, then continues having Eleanor pursue Chidi and Chidi alone. Come talk to me when Tahani goes undercover as a lesbian at a gay bar and leers openly at Eleanor's boobs while the other characters make gay jokes and then the rest of the show tries vehemently to pretend that never happened. Come talk to me when Eleanor and Tahani spend 65% of the show in each other's personal space, staring into each other's eyes or touching each other constantly.

ETA: Also, all of Eleanor's "jokes" about being attracted to women aren't jokes. They're truthful comments made at the most inappropriate times, and that's why they are funny. Talking about hating Tahani but mentioning how gorgeous she is -- probably not an appropriate time. Calling her a beautiful skyscraper before going to hell, not the best time. Leaning in to kiss Simone during the simulations -- she's supposed to be helping Chidi, not indulging in her own fantasies! Being super horny for Janet fighting the demons, no explanation necessary. Mentioning doing Janet while she looks like Janet, also not appropriate! But every single one was incredibly honest, just not. The. Right. Time. And that's why it's funny.

everyone who still keeps saying eleanor isn’t canonically bi owes me $20