#due to almost never being around other people who were gay or sexually compatible with me? yes

[13eyond13]

there is a happy medium between maddening condescending queerbait and "bury your gays" tragedies and unrealistic unsatisfying corny gay fictional romances I don't relate to at all because of how little anxiety and loneliness and feelings of otherness they include, and it's just super hard to find the ones that hit the sweet spot hahaha

[birminghamblinders]

tommy in a relationship with a man- headcanons

gif credits to @bonniebirddoesgifs​

Request: Hey could you please do headcanons for if tommy was with a guy? Thank you!!

I think that pretty much all LGBT people in the 1920s would have suffered from internalized homophobia just as a result of the oppressive society they were living in, and I don’t think Tommy would have been any exception from that.

So with that being established, while an integral part of Tommy’s personality is definitely the pride he takes in the life he’s created for himself and his refusal to bow to outside pressure, I do think that the overwhelming homophobia of the 1920s would have meant he struggled with his own homosexuality a lot.

I think that he would for sure have been in denial for a long, long time about his sexuality...I don't see him really coming to terms with it until a few years after the war ended. His flings with Greta and other girls were certainly attempts to force himself into heterosexuality and a hope against hope that the voices in his head might be wrong and he might be happy in a relationship with a woman.

Greta was certainly a lovely girl; she made Tommy laugh, and she was always warm to the touch, so he found legitimate comfort in holding her hand during the winter. In another life, he thinks, they would have made very compatible friends. In this life, though, he had to force himself to smile after kisses, and when he woke up the morning after the first night they had sex, he had to run to the bathroom to rid himself of the bile that had immediately forced itself up into his throat. 

During the war, it was a lot easier to hide; almost every man had a sweetheart back home, and it was almost laughably easy for Tommy to invent one too, to join in the crass conversations about sex and lipstick and the scent of a woman. So far removed from Birmingham, so far removed from any potential of intimate contact with an actual woman, he almost believed his lies.

And if once or twice, in the heat of a moment tinged with exhaustion and fear, he had allowed himself to be shoved up against the side of a deserted barracks and desperately kissed by a corporal from the highlands of Scotland, well, Arthur and John didn’t need to know about it.

After the war, though, comfortably seated on top of a burgeoning family business, an inherent respect from other members of society due to him being a veteran, and a lot more time alone with his thoughts, Tommy allowed himself to consider that he might be gay.

Shamefully, mortified by his own actions, on the nights that the shovels against the wall were loud as fireworks and sleep seemed a distant fantasy, Tommy would wrap his arms around his pillow as if it were another person and bury his head into the chest of his imaginary bedfellow. If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost smell the stench of sweat and dirt that always seemed to follow the corporal from Scotland.

While he was in the long, tormented process of admitting his attraction to men to himself, he was nowhere near allowing himself to consider the possibility of a relationship with one. He knew gay men lived near him, had met Ada’s roommate and had to swallow his tongue so he didn’t accidentally spit out an invitation to dinner, but he was so petrified by the backlash from his family that he kept his urges to himself, held his pillow close at night, and swore to himself in quietly terrified moments to never actually act on his homosexuality. 

As militaristic as Tommy usually was in his self-control, it was during a moment of considerable weakness that he broke his promise to himself and unwittingly fell in love with another man. He’d tasked Isaiah with hiring a few more men for grunt work, and had asked him to just pick the most reasonable among his friends and give them decent guns. 

The new men had been sent to Tommy one by one for approval, and when the third one walked into his office for a brief interview, Tommy nearly choked on his tongue. He was tall, muscular to the point of being stocky, and his face was accentuated by a rash of red hair on the top of his head and a dusting of freckles across his nose and cheeks. 

Tommy, as observant as he was, didn't miss the brief up and down the younger man gave him, and from then on he was hopelessly hooked. He took the young man under his wing through the guise of some messy pretense of training him for a better position, and coped with his attraction by spoiling him with gifts: nicer guns, well tailored designer suits, Cuban cigars.

In the end, Tommy’s hints had become painfully obvious to the younger man, so it was he who bent over Tommy’s desk one dusky January afternoon and kissed him squarely on the mouth.

From that point on, he wasn’t just hooked, he was addicted. There was no point to putting a label on their relationship, no such thing as a “boyfriend” for an adult man in charge of a criminal organization, but Tommy would be damned if he let a hair on his lover’s head come in harm’s way.

He insisted quickly that the younger man move in with him, insisted it was “more convenient that we be close to one another,” but Tommy’s lover saw straight through him, and shot him a loving grin that hit Tommy like a bolt to the heart.

They slept in the same bed.

The first night they spent together, Tommy was the first to get under the covers, and glanced up at his lover with legitimate anxiety, breathing in a sigh of relief borne of decades of internal torment when the younger man simply crawled in next to him and pulled Tommy’s head into his chest.

Tommy burrowed himself into the expensive linen shirt he had bought his lover and slept more soundly than he had in years.

It was Arthur who eventually found out that the relationship between Tommy and his protegee was far more than platonic. He’d barged into Tommy’s office one evening and caught the two of them in a rare moment of recklessness, with their tongues down each other’s throats and intertwined in a close embrace.

Arthur had, in his rash nature, immediately run to tell the rest of the family. Polly and Ada had suspected it for years, but the men of the family were thrown for a loop, once which they quickly recovered from under threat of being shot by Tommy.

Once their relationship was established to the Shelby family, Tommy became slightly less guarded with his displays of affection, softly brushing his hand over his lover’s shoulders in passing or squeezing his thigh under the table at a family meeting. 

Still as violently protective of his secret as he had been since the beginning of his life, Tommy allowed himself to be legitimately happy with his lover, and to feel more at peace with himself than he’d ever been. Maybe he should write to that Scottish corporal, he thought. The man was owed a thank-you.

[homalfaut]

Dream recount 8/20/18

I was walking down a street after hanging with Marc.

It’s a main street,

very similar to Broad Street…

But not Broad Street.

Judging by the height of the sun

I wanna say it’s about 3 o’clock,

prime busy time.

A dark skin man whose health is seeming to come closer to it’s expiration date with each rotation of the sun approaches us.

The wrinkles on his skin read about a mid 40 with his height being barely over 5 ft.

His smile is very warm and welcoming,

in an off-putting way due to his sun orange teeth (which he seems to be missing 5 of).

We had a short ,dry conversation that seemed to blend in with the rest of the noises in the background.

Roaring car engines,

Unruly teenagers,

entitled college students,

this conversation blends in with it all,

but feels different.

Only when you’re part of it. At least.

I don’t remember what was discussed or any details of the conversation.

Just that he approached me the way you’d expect a homeless person to approach you before telling their rehearsed sob story.

But upon opening his mouth I realized he knew something about the universe that I didn’t.

A secret.

And that the person he was looking around for… Was me.

There is one part of the conversation that never escaped my memory though.

He told me, “I’ll be seeing you again”, through very promising eyes.

And that’s where it began.

Time-lapse

I’m at the restaurant I work at.

The place looks somewhat similar to my actual job but it’s more fancy and polished.

Bundles of people with a gay air about them are steadily streaming in and out of the restaurant.

It wasn’t overflowing but it wasn’t empty.

My coworkers seem to be very fond of me, managers included.

This day at work feels very bright and upbeat.

Maybe my mood has too turned merry, possibly in correlation with the incoming customers.

My coworkers are around discussing what they are going to be doing once work has ended.

Drinking,

Smoking,

Hanging out at a bar, conventional late night past times.

But what do they accomplish through this other than temporary happiness?

The high goes away,

The drunk goes away and 95% of the conversations won’t even be remembered.

They all involve hours of small talk, just to have an animated conversation that won’t make it

past the setting of the moon.

Not that I don’t enjoy these pleasures as well… I just get very reclusive sometimes so I tend to avoid them.

I don’t contribute much to the conversation, I never do, but I know that there’s a lovely lady I am to be expecting after.

That’s my pleasurable vice,

women that look like they could kill me.

I catch myself daydreaming about her.

She’s the sister of a friend.

I can’t seem to recall if he’s a close friend…

Or any other details about him.

But the thoughts were never about him anyway, they were about her.

She was very attractive,very unorthodox features.

Naturally silver, almost crystal, sparkling hair

Eyes a shade of blue that seemed to not exist before she did.

Skin almost pale enough for her to be translucent,

She just seemed to be unre-

“Everything okay Bernard? You’ve been just standing there for a couple minutes now.” my manager chimes

“Yeah, I’m fine, just had something on my mind.”

“Oh, well the night’s dying down, so you’re good to go for the night.”

“Gotcha, thank you!”

I had never been more elated upon clocking out in my entire experience working here.

Usually it’s kinda bittersweet, my coworkers are very wholesome people and every second around them just feels refreshing.

But today I had a more uplifting experience ahead of me. Or so I thought.

Time-lapse

I’m hanging out with the girl and her brother at… I actually don’t know where we are.

Me and her are laying down with each other on the dark-beige carpet with a blanket over top of us.

Our bodies in some oddly perfect unison with each other, like the sun and the moon in constant orbit.

She devours my attention making me void of the world around me.

Nobody but us exists in this moment…and her brother who could intervene at any second.

I have this recurring problem of never letting myself fall into any moment when there’s any possibility of an external force breaching it.

But I told myself I should feel more free than that, that nobody can take you out of your moments except yourself.

I don’t know how much time we’ve already spent together by this point in time or how long we’ve even known each other for

But I can tell the answer to both of those questions isn’t as long as it should be before you get as intimate as we were without one force being scared of the other.

But the moment was perfect, it felt like we’d already known each other for a lifetime,

Like we’ve had conversations that had preceded the existence of any living creature,

Almost as if our sole existence in this fabricated universe was for each other.

Something like… Destiny.

As perfect as it was though i can’t seem to remember a single word shared between us.

I just remember at some point our conversation was replace with a fragile embrace from her lips to mine.

Make note it was her lips to mine.

More fragile kisses were shared between our glass lips knowing very well one of us could break in this moment.

Soon her fingers begin to cascade down my chest to my stomach

they reach my waist and suddenly i hear her brothers footsteps.

She remains unflinching and the only response i can manage is “Are you okay with this?”

Referring not to me being with his sister but to me having this moment almost in front of his very eyes.

He gives permission and expresses no discontent with the affair happening before his eyes then proceeds back up an adjacent staircase.

Yet another thing that struck me as weird during this whole experience.

Everything happened between us seemed to be a blur except one part

We never reached the point of having sex, but some form of pleasure happened that night.

I’ve always been more in love with the girls I never ended up having sex with than the ones I did.

Maybe because I felt more obliged to chase them,

Maybe because the lack of sexual intimacy was filled up with other forms of intimacy that couldn’t be replicated,

Maybe because we were more compatible romantically than we were sexually,

I’ll never know so I don’t ponder on it.

We went back to kisses that were less fragile this time for we have long lost the fear of breaking.

She invited me to her house in hopes of us seeing each other again.

I was more than reluctant to meet her again, but I couldn’t shake the ominous feeling that grew within in me as soon as I agreed.

Time-lapse

I’m at my house

It’s the type of place you’d see in the Jetsons

The building itself is beyond the height of a skyscraper,but my room is a very big bubble room

It’s doesn’t have any futuristic characteristics like the Jetsons but has a metallic baby blue color to it.

Kinda like the one you’d see in a sci-fi film.

There’s a huge window opposite of my bed,

It’s wide enough to look like a movie projector screen you’d see in a movie theater.

Another weird factor to mention is that I don’t remember the view from the window, if it was the sky or if it was a cityscape, or even worse,

If it was nothing.

Some subtle aspects of feng-shui are present.

Usually hang outs are held at my place, but you can tell why.

I’m with another girl.

Her features are more normal and demonstrate that she’s made from the earth in its purest form.

Her skin a dark shade of brown that is also reflected in her eyes as if both were summoned from the very core of the earth herself.

Soft dark curly hair gently caresses her face,

She exists as if every beautiful part of nature came together to create one person.

I can’t remember any dialogue shared between me and her but knew we were both there for an affair.

I had felt a safer and realer feeling with this girl than the other one but couldn’t bring myself to get into her

It’s that feeling of being attracted to something that you know isn’t good for you.

You feel like it would make your life more interesting as opposed to something that will probably help you out more in the long run.

I don’t remember what occurred between me and her during our time together other than an obscure conversation that consisted of me dodging our true purpose for being there.

But nothing pertaining to a sexual experience happened here.

Time-lapse

I arrive at her place

Correction: I’m in her place

I have no recollection of how I got there or even entering i just know I’m in there.

The only people that reside here are her, her Dad and her brother.

The house itself produces a very strange aura.

The best way to describe how i felt here was like how Alice felt when she fell down the rabbit-hole into Wonderland

Very lost, confused, slightly terrified…

and surreal.

For some reason the house felt small and continuously shrinking yet i seem to fit perfectly within the house at all times.

We started talking, but it felt as if she were trying to lure me into her.

As if her sole existence in my life was to be some kind of lure into an ingenious trap of the universe.

The unison wasn’t  there any more. it was more like i was the ocean

Flowing, naturally

And she’s the moon

Pulling me to flow harder but almost towards her in a way that I couldn’t resist.

Then she started changing.

And i don’t mean the type of changing like when you’re dating someone for a long time and over time they start becoming comfortable and changing,

I mean her entire physical appearance was morphing before my very eyes in a matter of seconds.

her eyes started becoming black lines spiraling around their sockets,

Wrinkles cascaded the surface of her face on all ends,

Her almost transparent skin glowed and became suddenly translucent,

her jaw dropped long enough that you could fit a soccer ball in her mouth,

And there were no teeth or tongue that belonged to her mouth either but now it was an endless black abyss.

You could easily sink in there and not come back. Ever.

I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what was happening to me too.

As this transformation is happening she is saying something… Something that no matter how hard i try to recall my brain just refuses to do it.

As if i’m better off just never truly remembering what she said.

Maybe I am.

Suddenly two guys in beige suits with white button up shirts underneath and black ties come in and pull me out of the room.

They’re faces were ridden with distress and urgency, as if they had feared for my life more than i had.

I was still in shock and my face could only manage a blank facial expression

Time-lapse

I’m in the office with the guys.

A couple days have passed since the incident but I still haven’t fully let it sink in.

My eyes are weary and droopy, you can tell i haven’t had any proper sleep (if any at all) since the incident.

Me and the men are discussing the scenario from start to finish, and every detail of every second from top to bottom.

I remembered what she said at that moment and told them what she said.

We were able to decipher that she wasn’t a creature of our society, we didn’t know what she was or what she would’ve done with me but we all knew it wouldn’t have been good for me to stay in that situation.

I was easily able to decipher what she was saying and the meaning behind it but i told the men that i had to withdraw from the investigation.

I already felt as if I was a huge target and that wouldn’t be my last encounter with her or her species.

Continuing in this investigation would only increase my name being in some type of spotlight and their chances of coming into contact with me again.

Time-lapse

Me and Marc are at the nearby mall.

Marc has yet another “fool-proof” plan about how we can shoplift a couple of things we don’t really need without the mall security guard noticing.

Malls in this world aren’t like malls in the real world.

They’re in the similar shape as my room which makes them feel slightly futuristic in a sense.

Stores are spread out side by side in one giant culdesac formation.

Also, You kinda just get your stuff from the individual stores but it’s not like the individual stores have security or anything at the front.

There’s only one entrance to the whole mall so you can only walk in that way and walk out that way.

We gathered up the stuff from the stores we wanted and then we’re heading out hoping the security guard doesn’t investigate us, because ya know, sometimes they don’t apparently.

Our hopes were wrong.

He questions us about the things we have but in this society you don’t necessarily get arrested for attempting to shoplift, you just kinda look like an idiot.

As he’s rummaging through the stuff he also tells us to beware of this guy.

He fits the description of the exact man from the beginning of the dream.

Suddenly i turn around and the man says “Glad to see you again.”

Then I woke up.

[caterpillar-worship-blog]

This post contains a high amount of sexual content and has things that may disturb or at least “weird out” many people. There is also a lot of what the internet likes to call “cringe”. This is also a very long post and I only recommend reading if you are one of those people who likes seeing what goes through different people’s heads (eg: pretty much no one). TRIGGER WARNING: Pictures of real insects (larva),mention of sexual activity

I’m to the point now I almost wish I had no sex drive, its such a waste. I just want to play video games, do stuff I enjoy or maybe start drawing again. Desire is such a trap for me because I’m a pretentious person attracted to this ideal of beauty and stuff. It goes deeper but I’ll save that for a post that will probably get me labeled as a lunatic (spoilers: tulpas). I get all these fantasies and they feel great but then if I release them (eg: masturbate) I feel the cold reality hit me. I become filled with a desire to hug and cuddle, to hold someone and do things like nuzzle or just tease and play. When I cum I realize that I’m just a human being most likely put here to reproduce, which I probably won’t do and don’t think I even want to. I like the warm,soft feeling, its radiant kind of but then it reaches this point where the sexual part overrides everything and demands I release. I suddenly feel like I have become a slave and think back to my ex, sex with her and how most of the time it was unpleasant. I’m long past the fallout of our relationship and don’t hate her, though we don’t talk and probably never will. We were just different people and I was incapable of giving her the things she needed from a person. I don’t know how to describe my sexuality to others so I don’t. I don’t think I’m gay enough to proclaim it publicly but different things arouse me. My first sexual desires started when I was 7, I would watch both Sonic cartoons and had a crush on Tails. Me and my sister would play Sonic 2 and she would drown Tails and I would fantasize about protecting him. Eventually I started dry humping my couch on saturday mornings before my parents woke up. I loved bugs a lot too, I found them fascinating but I especially liked insects who went through complete metamorphosis and I thought grubs were really cute. I wanted a giant grub to hug and cuddle with who would never go into imago ever and just be my soft, squishy friend forever. He had this shy, easily scared personality, kind of cowardly but sweet. I would watch nature documentaries about insects such as wasps, beetles, bees etc and I loved watching them care for their fat, white little grubby babies. I would go to our old library during the summer and I had this one hardbook book about diving beetles. It was fun to read to me because I thought “water bugs” were super awesome and we use to have a pool so I’d see them during the summer. I remember getting a “crush” on the diving beetle larva. He was a good deal more fierce than grubs were but was still a larva. Diving beetle larva had a personality, he was more adventurous and wanted to be strong and grow up into his adult form so he could be super tough, like how shonen anime protags are. I still wanted to hug him and beg “Noooo, you’re so cute..I like you the way you are, diving beetle larva-chan..don’t grow up!!” I should stress that these insect characters I made during my pre-pubescent childhood were always males. It was not just insects though, I had another imaginary friend, who was a girl. She was this chipmunk like creature who would come to me during naps, usually when I was staying at my grandparent’s old house back when I was in preschool. The little chipmunk had a completely benign face, I can’t remember it 100% but I was and still am autistic so certain things would upset or bother me a lot. Everyone is this way but I had certain “compatibility” ratios with smells,foods,faces and cartoons. The famous youtuber Ulilila coined that term and it resonated a lot with me because I still use a similar system in my head. Anyways, the chipmunk fairy creature had a face that was cute but comforted me, nothing about her was unappealing or neutral by my compatibilities. I would be small, her size, and we would play in the branches of this giant tree. It was not a real life tree or a cartoon, it was in the style of an old painting. My grandparents had lots of old paintings around their house of ducks,ponds and farm houses so that’s probably why the tree looked the way it did in my subconscious. We would play tag and she would run away but I’d catch her and we’d hug. I would be so happy when I’d hug her but then she’d jump away again until I could not find her. I could hear her rustling in the leaves and calling me but I’d call for her and start feeling this really incredible sadness and loneliness. Then I would wake up. I had good parents who tried their best and no one ever abused me but my childhood was very lonely. Before I started playing video games my friends were cartoon characters. These included The Little Koala, Maya the Bee and Heathcliff  the cat. I also really liked the animated dinosaurs from the pbs documentary “Dinosaurs” narrated by the lady who’s name escapes me, I think she did Nick News too. The third and final episode scarred me SO HARD because it was about the dinosaurs dying off but I’ll save that for another blog entry, this is way too long but its not like anyone will read my shit. But yeah, childhood was lonely. Kids didn’t start being really mean until the 4th or 5th grade I want to say but I just did not mesh with anyone. I had no geeky buddies to teach me AD&D, I had no one to play video games with, no one cared about dinosaurs and insects like I did. For a long time I wanted to be a fighter pilot too but not because I wanted to hurt people, I just thought the pilots looked really cool with their helmet and masks that made them look like houseflies and I loved how fighter jets looked. I wanted to be that. I had an infatutation with the look and shape of planes like the F-15 and F-111 yet I never cared for the actual science enough beyond eventually learning pointless trivia about hardpoints and how much “payload” they could carry jets. To me the fighter jets and bombers were like the dinosaurs and insects, they all were my “proto-pokemon” and they each had stats, personalities and other stuff. I still love all these things...but with military planes I feel some guilt I guess and have to separate reality and my childhood fantasies. I -do- love the Ace Combat series because it took my precious fighter jets and gave them rpg style stats while putting them into what is basically a gundam anime but with jets instead....but then Ace Combat went garbo and started taking place in the real world and abandoned the anime-ishness for something more Michael Bay and ~*PATRIOTIC~* I guess. God, fuck you Assault Horizon. But yeah..I was lonely. Sports bored me to tears and I was awful at them due to the fact I had crappy motorskills and I did not care. I hated PE and field day was only ok because I could sneak some of my bug guides or comic books outside and pray I would get a teacher who did not care about my lack of participation and was just happy I was someone who could entertain themselves. This has gone on too long for one post. I had a lot more I wanted to say and I don’t think anyone will read this but I’d feel better just doing another post later.