#i’m not valid i just like pretty men being awful

[crab-ran-goon]

this just started as the ouja drawing and then i added mini asakura. then i had a kageyama brain worm. then i decided the canvas was too empty. so i put that kageyama picture on it. then i remembered my asakura photocard. then i-

it’s maybe a bit too early for day 5 but i’ll forget to post it if i wait another day

bonus kageyama i drew on a shitty laptop under the cut

[sordidmusings]

Between Two Points - Ace

Art from the doujinshi Torch by NINEKOKS

Summary: You and Ace have had a ✨thing✨for a good while now so sharing a bed wasn’t strange for you. It was, however, absolutely tormenting Ace, who couldn’t keep his mind from every time you’ve touched. You wake up to find him wanting. You thought you could keep things quick and fun but they just keep on escalating. Especially when he begs to be inside you for the first time. 

A/N: oh how Ace has haunted me, especially while writing this lol he’s one of my top favs so brain said we extra need to do him justice 👏 pretty happy with the smut but I’m most happy with the ending scene - I wanted it to be sweet and silly and so very Ace. Part of the Between Two Points series (“just the tip” shots for separate charas)!

Warnings: nsfw, Implications of inexperience (Ace), first time together, sleepy sex (at first lol), subby Ace, he begs and thanks you like a lot, he calls you “pretty” as a pet name, praise kink both ways, emotionally fragile Ace, I didn’t mean for that to come out but he demands it, I just wanna shower him in love and validation until he Understands, until then he gets some pussy, multiple orgasms (for both yayyyyy), overstimulation on Ace, probably cumflation, definitely my obsession with men fighting not to cum, you make him suck the mess off your fingers, aftercare, silly banter to soothe the soul, fem!reader - kept it basically gn but then an old lady joke called to me at the end whoops

Word Count: 10.2k

Come get a serving of that soup ( ˘▽˘)っ���

“If you see your daydreams in me, they'll not lack

What's been weighted in me, I'll make you quake with reason

I can feel your knees sinking into the bed

Searching in my dark eyes to break what’s been said

There’s a wake of grace, hunting your soreness down

There's a light in my skin that's been dimmed

I'mma dig you up and give you what I took

Pull you up and tuck you in and make you look

I'ma smooth your shoulders down and calm what's shook

It was all forlorn, if only for a season

Watching me is like watching a fire take your eyes from you”

“Can something like this be pulled

From under our feet?

Leaving our skin

And burning coals to meet

Tell me now

The shortest distance

Between two points

Is the line

From me to you”

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

Ace still can’t believe you’re in the same bed. Every step into intimacy he’s taken with you leaves him shocked and stumbling. He’ll keep tripping after you forever though because, gods, it’s you. You’ve done a hundred and one things to impress him in emergency and battle, to take his breath away with how you decorate yourself, to make him and others watch on in awe at your skills. Though, all of that pales in comparison to the simple act of you being you. You, who wormed your way into his mind with your quirks and open-minded talks. You, who could light up his body with a simple look, a tender touch, a loving smile. You, who took hold of his heart with your patient kindness and understanding. 

You, who is currently keeping him up with the delicious turmoil of holding you so close.

This is the first time you’ve slept in the same bed. Now, you’ve done plenty of other things together, so Ace hadn’t thought that it would be such a big deal. When it hit him that he was really going to be falling asleep cuddled up to you, something so affectionate and domestic, his heart pumped an extra hard beat to wash tingles under his skin. He had thought the flush of excitement would peter off into comfort and contentment. To be fair, a part of it did. The problem is that the other part began incessantly bombarding him with thoughts of everything you could be doing in the bed besides sleeping.

His past experience with you is only making it harder where he thought it would ease his nerves at being close. The sweet or heated kisses you’d grab him to steal only make his lips lonely at their memory. The spark in your eyes as your kisses move southward haunts him and keeps his dick twitching pathetically against your thigh. The echoes of times he got to be the one with his head between your legs, smothering himself in the heady taste and smell of you, has him biting back whimpers. Fuck, he’s aching and flushed and desperate and all you’re doing is sleeping in his arms. He feels guilt creep in.

This should be enough. He shouldn’t be laying here wishing for more of you while you’re already so sweetly snuggling into his chest, offering him trust and affection. Holding you while you’re at your most vulnerable should sate him. Feeling how soft and warm you are with your weight sinking the two of you together should ease him to rest. Yet his mind keeps reminding him of the last time your weight was pressing on him, leaving him equal parts wound up and embarrassed.

As usual, you had been tapped right into when he needed you to escalate things but felt he didn’t have the right to ask. All day he’d been hovering around you, a hand always on arm or shoulder and eyes always ready to jump to you. He was chasing at your heels when you waved for him to follow you so you could settle him with some attention. He was pawing at you the moment your lips touched, moaning at the first rub of tongues, grinding right when you pressed deeper into him. 

Soon he was on the floor with you on his lap, your palms pressing your weight into his heaving chest and your hips working him over. He flushed an even deeper shade of pink when you told him how pretty he looks. The thought of it has his cock jumping even now, and he struggles to keep from grinding up into your lower stomach. He can feel a hint of your mound at the base of his cock, begging him to press harder to tease himself with your plush heat and the firmness of your pelvis underneath. Knowing your clit was hiding right there against him - in easy reach for him to make you squirm with pleasure, make such pretty pretty noises, think of nothing else but how good he’s making you feel - chips away at his resolve. 

The memory continues with the feeling of his fingers sinking into the meat of your hips, caught between pulling you faster and shoving you off because he felt all too close to his end for a grown man who hasn’t even gotten his pants off yet. You were even still fully clothed but didn’t seem to pay that any mind as you circled and ground yourself on the hard cock trapped in his pants. Even with the layers, he felt how hot your cunt was getting, burning even more against him than your mouth when it took to painting a path through his freckles from cheeks to chest. When you took breaks to grind slowly over him, he felt the little moment where your hips slid before your clothes followed, delayed by you slipping through your own wetness first. His eyes rolled back at the fact that using him got you soaked and that out of everyone you chose him to sit your drooling pussy on.

With that thought and his grinds chasing you back, he felt his balls pull taught and his cock pound dangerously.

No, fuck, he hasn’t even made you cum - his clothes, fuck, he’s still in his clothes you, can’t see him cum in his pants like some pathetic boy, no nonono-

“Please,” Ace gasped out, using all his will power to still his hips and keep them pressed to the ground, “I’m- I’m too- please -hhah- you’re just so- fuck! Please, baby.” He was panting the words between moans, trying to find enough strength to hold your hips still. “Just s-slow down, I’m -nnnngh-” You just smiled devilishly down at him and kept picking up the pace. He grit his teeth and arched his head back, “I’m so fucking close- ah!”

He hides his face in the pillows and your hair even as the praises you had showered him in echo in his ears while he holds your sleeping body. His own painfully awake body shivers while he thinks of how hard he came, how each pump had felt like overwhelming bliss trapped against your heat and to the tune of your voice. It has him grinding against you before he can even think and sighing out in relief at a little bit of the touch he needs.

“Ace?”

Your sleepy mumble makes him freeze, every muscle taught like he grabbed a live wire.

“Why are you awake, honey?” The genuine concern in your sleep-thick voice only makes him feel worse. You try to lift your face from his chest, but a hand on the back of your head traps you there. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah,” he swallows, hoping to trap the stutter back down. “Don’t worry - go back to sleep.”

He places a gentle kiss to the top of your head and scratches your scalp to try and settle you. It works for a moment and he relishes in the feel of your body relaxing back against him. That is, until you shift to the side and snuggle deeper. Your thigh brushes his obvious hard on and you both tense. He panics when he feels your eyelashes tickle his chest, letting him know your eyes flew open wide.

“Oh.”

Yeah, oh, he thinks miserably. He’s confused when he feels you smile against his skin.

“Ace, honey, are you enjoying sleeping with me?” Even with the sleepy tone, you manage to get a lot of smug teasing in your voice.

“Yes?” That wasn’t meant to be a question.

“You sure?” you prod. “You seem awful tense.” 

You emphasize the last word with a firm press and rub of your thigh against his aching erection. His whole body shivers and a high sigh escapes him. His hands grasp you at hip and shoulder and he’s struck with the déjà vu of not knowing whether to drag you closer or make you stop. 

You’re having no such struggle, happy to find him a wanting mess. You’ll never get over seeing the confident and playful air he parades around with slipping off to reveal something fragile and seeking when you touch him. Sure, he won you initially with that part of him, charming you to his side like every other moth drawn to his inherent light, trapping you there with all the others under his protection and love. Knowing what pieces can lie under that blaze only makes the show more fun to watch. Knowing someone so powerful, so magnetic, feels the same way for you? Shows you places they’re scared to let others see? It’s your greatest rush and most cherished responsibility.

“You’re perfect, honey,” you praise. He just barely bites back a whimper. “Did you know I was dreaming about you?”

“You were?” Ace sounds much more disbelieving than you’d like.

“Mhmm, I do it often.” Your voice softens with honesty. “You’re always on my mind.”

There’s a slight tremble to Ace’s hold on you. He wants to say something, anything, but his throat has closed too tight for words to pass. 

“I can prove it to you,” the flirtatious heat to your voice eases the fragile vulnerability away. Ace is yet again thankful for your sixth sense when it comes to his needs. Your thigh creeping its way over his leg and hips helps distract him from the pressure behind his eyes. You settle your leg when it’s resting centered on his sensitive head. The weight of your soft thigh easing down on him forces a shaky “hh-ah!” from him and he feels his face flush in embarrassment and need. You reward the sound with a kiss to his pec.

“Well?” you whisper. “Are you gonna check?”

“Huh?” Ace’s blood is all in the wrong head for him to understand anything but praise and orders. You giggle at him and it makes his dick jump against your thigh.

Taking mercy on him, you grab the hand that’s planted on your hip. Slowly, you lead it to the swell of your ass and press his large hand to grip at you. He does so eagerly, playing with the pliant flesh filling his warm hold. Your sleep shorts are thin, letting him feel you easily despite the barrier. He can’t resist the instinct to pull and spread you open. You hum happily at the feeling, arching into it. Ace blows out a tense breath, bedding his cheek into the top of your head and canting his hips up ever so slightly.

“So good, sweetheart,” you sigh. He squeezes down and turns his face to find comfort in the smell of your hair. “Let me show you.”

You urge his hand a little lower, right to the hem of your shorts. You only stop when his fingertips slip under and tickle the skin right beside the swell of your lips. You want him to decide this on his own. He teases the elastic for a moment before trailing the pad of his finger over your underwear right where the seam of your pussy is, starting from your entrance up to your clit and back. Another content hum leaves you, encouraging him, and he swivels his hand to cup your heat. He shivers at the hot breath curling over his chest, and his head swirls happily when you arch your hips up to push your cunt deeper into his palm. 

This time it’s your own hand gripping your ass to spread you open for him. You arch and nudge into his hold more, unintentionally grinding over his cock in your writhing. His fingers twitch, teasing your clit, sparking it to life and leaving you wanting. He’s having trouble keeping himself tempered instead of writhing when he can feel the dampness of your underwear and how they slide messily between his palm and your pussy. He wants it coating his fingers, smeared on his lips, maybe one day he can feel it soaking his cock- 

“Touch me,” you whine impatiently.

Hasty fingers push under the band of your underwear and slip between your folds.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Ace moans. His voice is low in his chest but softened by his breathlessness. He takes his time petting around your entrance and enjoying the feeling of your lips slipping to encase his fingers when he flattens them out to reach your clit.

“Told you I was dreaming about you,” you mumble happily. Even though your body is heated and tingling, you’ve still got the weight of sleep pulling at you, leaving you in a content mix of dreaminess and pleasure. You relax further into Ace, happy to let him touch you as he likes in that tentative, worshipping way of his. It’s that endearing contrast to the brash and confident way he presents himself and fights. He always starts touching you like it’s an honor he doesn’t deserve, something he needs to take slowly lest he scare you off or never get the chance again. Even though you love the treatment, it breaks your heart that he thinks he’s so below you as to not deserve to touch you, let alone receive your affection.

The tip of a finger presses at your entrance, just enough to have the pad sink in. You swivel your hips to urge him further and moan when he listens to your plea. Ace moans with you, always amazed at your tight heat. It welcomes him easily despite gripping down snugly on his skin. He pulls his digit out with a curl, shivering when your muscles clamp back against him. You sigh his name in that dreamy way that makes him feel special, and he can’t help but add another finger and sink them in deep. Even though he’s in to the last knuckle, you shove your face down into his chest and your ass into the air to try and suck him in deeper. He rewards you by petting at your walls, drawing more pleasurable twitches from your cunt.

“More,” you whine. It’s half demand and half complaint and all turning his brain to mush. How quickly you are winding into desperation is only making his own need grow. He needs to hear more from you, he needs you to fix the burning under his skin, he needs fuck himself into a place so deep in you that you can never be rid of him.

“Need to be inside you,” Ace groans before he can think about the words. “Please, pretty baby, you feel too good-” he swallows thickly when you hungrily grind back onto his massaging fingers, “fuck -hah- need to know-” he can’t finish his sentence because you’ve snuck your hand down to palm his erection and stroke him in time with your thrusting hips.

“Think you’re ready to fuck me?” you ask. You meant to check in and make sure he was emotionally ready, but your breaths rushing out of you made it sound harsh.

“Please,” he begs, voice broken, holding you tight with his free hand, “I’ll make you feel so good- promise, promise.”

“I’m just worried-”

“It’ll be okay,” he promises immediately, “just a quick feel, you don’t even have to let me fuck you- just gotta feel you on my cock at least once.” He tries to win your favor by using his free hand to tease your clit.

“Ace,” you gasp. It’s hard to slow him down when he’s winding your body up so well. With a quick jerk, he shifts you up his body, giving him better leverage to work you on his fingers. It lands your face in the pillow next to his and he takes the opportunity to suck open mouthed kisses across your neck. You mean to talk to him and get a hold on how frantic he’s getting, but all you can do is let out muffled moans into soft cotton. 

“I’ll be good,” Ace whispers against the shell of your ear. His breath is hot and humid and gets you one step closer to an orgasm lighting you on fire. “I’ll make you cum until you can’t worry anymore.” The fingers tweaking your clit and prodding your firming walls give weight to his promise. Your hips are already starting to stiffen and twitch with the oncoming climax. “I’ll keep begging, I’ll worship you, anything you want, just, fuck-” his voice breaks before he can stop it. “Please let me feel you.”

Ace feels like he can’t get enough air; he won’t be able to breathe if you pull away - he’s sure he’ll suffocate without you. His whole body is pulsing and alive with urgency, not just the cock straining against his pants. The only thing that’s keeping him grounded is you. Your pretty moans slipping out, half-covered by the pillow. Your searching hands, grasping and working his body over in search of something to hold on to. Your chest blanketing his own, ebbing and flowing in waves with your heavy breathing pressing into him. Most of all, the slick, plush grip of your cunt around his fingers, singing to him in little wet slaps every time it welcomes his fingers back home.

“Ace, I’m-” you turn your head towards him so he can hear and find him already looking at you. His flush is deep enough to try and hide his freckles and his pupils are blown enough to turn his brown eyes black. His slack jaw lets your breaths mingle. The pressure of his fingers on your clit increases just the slightest bit, but it’s just right to get your body to clamp down and not let go. “I’m so close, gonna cum, please, love-” Ace sobs out a moan at the new pet name and presses the fingers inside you even more insistently “ahhn! Don’t stop, don’t stop, gonna-”

You suck in a greedy breath and it’s trapped in your lungs as your body starts to seize up. The hit of pleasure has you curling as close as you can into Ace, needing to clutch him when the first wave crests heavily. His fingers follow you when you squirm to center fully on top of him, soothing you through the ride with gentle pumps into your twitching walls. You breathe again after a moment, letting out a flurry of praise into Ace’s shoulder. The little shakes of your hips make you rub against his trapped cock and his eyes roll back against his wish to keep watching you. 

The way your pussy clamps down on his fingers is absolute torture. Pressed so close with his eyes shut, he can almost imagine the rhythmic waves of your spasming cunt milking him while he fucks you full of cum. It has him panting along beside you like he was the one who just came. 

You’re easing down from your high, swollen walls settled along his now unmoving fingers. The sound of your panting settles with you and the room starts to still into a cozy calmness. Your muscles feel liquid and uncooperative as you try to adjust into a comfier position. The movement yet again rubs you against Ace and he whimpers at the heavy gush of precum it pulls from him.

With a pained sound, Ace wiggles the hand that had been toying with your clit out from under your hips and past his sensitive cock to draw shapes on your back. The action brings the smell of sex closer up to his face and he can’t help but groan. Fuck, he doesn’t want to push you or bother you, but the high of seeing you cum has passed and left him even more wanting.

“Pretty?” Ace starts softly. He kisses at your temple and you hum in reply. “...please?”

You hum again, only half hearing him between the orgasm taking the wind out of your sails and that wind having only been a small gust in the first place given it was somewhere around the witching hour.

“I still need you,” he urges, pressing his hips up gently for some miniscule relief and to make you understand. He’s scalding hot below you and throbbing into your lower stomach and it starts to bring you some clarity.

“While I’d love to continue, I’m tired,” you sigh. Before he can apologize or take it the wrong way, you continue. “Normally that wouldn’t really be a problem, but I want to be bright eyed and bushy tailed the first time I fuck you.” Even with the casual way you’re talking, Ace sighs happily and pulls you tighter at the idea. Before you can think about how you’re about to contradict your words, your mouth moves and you’re back to riling him. “I’ve thought of our first time together a lot, and I’m going to treat you to much more than some sleepy sex.” He shivers and moves back to mouthing at your neck at the promise. “I want you sitting pretty under me while I show you everything I can do to you.”

“But I’m under you now,” Ace argues.

“You are, and you’re doing so good at the looking pretty thing too,” you sigh in mock defeat. You feel him smile against your neck, both from the praise and from gaining some ground. Gotta get that idea back out of his head. “I don’t wanna leave you hanging, but I want to do more for you the first time you’re inside me.”

Ace doesn’t share that worry. He’s more worried about using his free hand to start guiding your hips in slow circles to feel the motion around the fingers still sitting inside you. It also teases his still leaking cock and makes it painfully easy to imagine the sensation blending so his cock feels the circles and the grip of your cunt. It flutters on his digits and he flexes his hand to feel the twitching muscles better, putting pressure towards your lower stomach. You keen at the burn it sets in your nerves, arching against his hand to feel more. Shoved so snuggly into your body, Ace’s fingers pick up the thump of your racing heart beating behind the walls of your pussy. He’s never needed anything more than he needs to feel it tapping against the racing pulse of his own heart pulsing through his cock.

“Please, pretty, please please ple-hease” he begs again, beyond reason. “What if- what if we don’t fuck? What if you just let me inside you to keep me warm?”

The idea is quite tempting. You kiss at the side of his face, giving yourself time to enjoy the fantasy of cockwarming him. It’s one you’ve come back to many times in your daydreams of him. Still, you want to fuck the sanity out of him the first time he’s inside you.

“Ace, no-”

“Just the tip.” The words are rushed and breathless and broken. “What if it’s just the tip?”

You realize there’s no reasoning with him and you’re losing the want to try. It’s not like you haven’t been wanting to fuck him since lust rode in on the coattails of “wow he’s pretty and so sweet”. He’s not the only one hiding insecurities though, and you frequently fear that if you don’t keep up the trend of blowing his mind with all the physical stuff then he’ll get bored of you. You can’t accept your first time together being anything less than perfect; the very idea fills you with dread, so much so that the potent temptation of Ace writhing and begging and even just his fingers making you feel so fucking good hasn’t shaken it off you.

“I can’t-” Ace swallows hard, “I can’t just keep dreaming about it, please, fuck, pretty, I need you.”

You believe him. You’ve never heard him so lost before in all your times fooling around. He’s prone to his tongue loosening the longer you touch and this is far from the first time he’s pleaded with you, but this felt different. There’s a frantic undertone to his voice and the words spilling from his lips. There’s truth to the emotion turning his grasp into a delicious mix of powerful and trembling. There’s no arguing with the twitching length grinding into your lower stomach - no way you can deny how hard he feels or the heat of it burning against you even through your clothes. It’s enough to make you lose yourself to the thought of getting to clamp down around his firm cock while the length finds places to toy with much deeper than you can reach. You can tell from the shape against you his width would press back at every nerve you’ve got, waking them up and making them sing. 

You come back to reality when he sneaks in a deep thrust of his fingers. The wet sound makes him moan, and the responding clench turns it into a deep, throaty “fuck”. His head flies back as he arches and grinds. You look up from the pillow and see his pretty black waves piling next to the sharp cut of his jaw. The bob of his throat as he swallows matches the jump of his cock. You feel every detail of it and notice he’s leaked enough to soak through his shorts and your shirt, leaving a sticky spot against your skin.

“You make me feel so good,” Ace moans. “I can make you feel good too.”

The fact that he thinks he needs to convince you of that even with his fingers stuffed in you, held tight with how your cunt’s swelled from pleasure, proves he’s very far from rational thought.

“You did,” you promise with a sweet kiss to his neck. “Now it’s your turn.” His head shoots up to give you a hopeful look. “You’ve cum from less, isn’t this enough?” You swirl your hips down against him to illustrate your point.

“It’s not about cumming,” he grumbles, suddenly sounding a bit more coherent and honestly a bit offended. “I wanna be closer.”

That throws you so off guard you just spit out the first thing that comes to mind.

“We could take off our clothes?”

Ace doesn’t give you time to take it back, his hands flying from you and already shoving his shorts down his thighs. He sighs in relief when his cock springs free, and nudges his head into yours mindlessly in relieved affection. Too impatient to finish the task, he stops pushing his shorts while they’re halfway down to instead get his hands under your shirt. You go to finish what he started but get distracted taking handfuls of his waist and thighs. When you thumb at the descending line of his adonis belt, Ace can do nothing but press into your touch, even pausing his mission to get under your clothes.

You lay yourself back on Ace, now trapping his dick between his twitching abs and the soft skin of your stomach and the tease of trimmed hair on your mound. Somewhere in his brain he thinks he should be ashamed of how he’s an absolute mess from something so simple as feeling your skin on his cock. At the moment, the shame is overshadowed by sheer need and awe. This is you - he’s dreamed of this, agonized over it, sat drowning in a mind and body desperate to find a way to get you to look at him, let alone touch him. Even when you started pulling him with you for teasing tastes on top of your shared missions together, all the time between had them feeling fake. Getting to have you feels so foreign and unattainable that his brain writes it off as false memories when you aren’t in his hands. 

And that’s why he holds you all the more tightly when you’re in reach. He needs you cemented in his grip and sunk into every sense so you’re all he knows. No questions, no doubts, no loneliness, no hollowness, just the comfort of you. He gets his lips back on yours before he breaks.

You hook your thumbs into your shorts and underwear but it’s not quick enough for Ace. He grabs them in a tight fistful and yanks. Your spread thighs keep them from getting lower than the end of your ass and Ace whines into your mouth. Trying not to break the kiss, you lean onto your right leg and try to work the other out of your clothing. It’s a clumsy and messy affair, each of you using a hand to tug at the garments while the other is busy trying to feel and hold as much of each other as possible. You lean back to look and finally get the damn thing off and Ace chases you the whole way. Between the hot slide of tongue, the nipping on lips, and the dancing rolls of kiss and grind you manage to get your left leg completely free of clothing.

“Fuck, pretty, how -hhh-ah!- do you do that?” Ace moans breathlessly after you set your hips back on him.

“Do what?” You’re moving your clit up and down his shaft in torturously slow grinds, mind fuzzed with the feeling of your wetness making you glide so smoothly on him.

“Make me -mmnngh!- fuck-” You circle your clit around his sensitive head, turning his speech into a few heaving breaths and groans. “Make me forget everything.”

Your lips are back on his in a rush, too fast for you to get out all the loving words living in you. First it’s as insistent and firm as your hips are working him over. After a long minute though, he’s lost too much breath to do much more than pant and hump into you in a desperate chase to feel more and more. You begin laying quick kisses to his cheek and land one in the shape of a smile on the corner of his open mouth. You feel it curl up under the press of your lips. 

“You m-make me happy,” Ace admits, a twinge of nerves managing to show through all the arousal in his voice. You bump your nose to his gently. 

“You’re my happiness, Ace.”

He whines and screws his eyes shut even more tightly. You feel his cock throb heavily against you. Taking advantage, you change to little circles against him and feel the pressure of it tease at your clit and entrance. A hand snakes into your hair and grips, holding you steady to press your foreheads together. His eyes crack open to search yours for lies. Even in the rush of your grinding bodies, the eye contact is still and sturdy as steel.

“You can’t just say that,” Ace breathes.

You feel how close he is, even harder than before and thrusts getting stilted in an attempt not to cum. You set on that singlemindedly, needing to hear his breathy broken moans, feel him squirm and jerk, shove him straight into a headspace empty of all but bliss. You get your own hand in his hair and tug, earning a moan and more pleads. Busying your mouth with his neck, you begin sliding along his whole length at a quick pace. The burn in your thighs is nothing compared to the pressure building between your hips, getting tighter and brighter with every swipe.

“No, holy shit, so close, s’close -hah hahngg-“ Ace starts babbling, “wanna cum in you, I’ll do anything, I’ll -mnnngh- anything please, fuck, too good, so fucking wet, so -fuck- can’t, please no, no ‘m gonna cum-“

You suck and teethe at the sensitive spot behind his ear and twist your grip in his hair, sure that would throw him over. Instead he lunges forward to sink his teeth into your shoulder and his hands clamp onto your hips to hold them perfectly still. You’re reminded of the power in the man who falls apart for you. It makes you clench and gush against him with a throaty moan. He holds on for dear life through it, tensing and throbbing and leaking and just barely managing to hold off his orgasm.

Once he’s sure he’s relatively safe, he lets go of your shoulder and begins kissing over the slight indents. The gentle touch feels electric on the tender skin. He continues to hold your hips prisoner, imobile against his own. After some deep breaths he pulls back to look at you. 

“I don’t want it to ever stop,” his eyes are shiny and his lips tremble, but not as much as his words. “Please.” That commanding grip lightens. He slides his hands so he can massage his thumbs into the creases where your thighs meet your hips, sending sparks under your skin. “Just a little of you.”

Your resolve finally breaks and you agree. “Just the tip.”

“Thank you,” Ace rushes out. “Remind me to take you out and spoil you.”

You huff out a laugh even though you’re pretty sure he’s serious. 

“As if you don’t try already.” 

You shimmy forward and he rights you into his grip again; getting you on him with as much skin to skin as possible, just where you belong. It makes maneuvering a bit more difficult but neither of you care; you’re too busy enjoying each other’s heat and taste.

“No goofing, just romance.”

His arms encase you while yours frame him, taking time to touch skin and play with his fluffy hair. You’re firmly settled against him, laying with your cunt just in reach of his leaking head. Each breath presses you deeper into each other and lets pressure tease at your breasts. You take a moment to sneak fingers to your sides so you can tweak his nipple. The shocked hiss is one of your favorites. 

“Where’s the fun in that?” You reach back to grab hold of him and give him a few firm strokes, just to hear his pretty gasps. “The gentleman act isn’t as fun without the goofy contrast.”

“It’s not an a-aahhhhhhnn-“ You use your grip on him to circle his head on your entrance and press back just enough for the weeping tip to catch. After drawing out the sensation for a few more breaths, you move to sit up for a better angle to give him a shallow ride, but he stops you.

“Stay.” Even though it’s an order it sounds like a plea. At your confused look he continues, “If you stay like this I won’t be able to start fucking you if I lose myself.”

He feels you clench against his cockhead and it twitches in response, desperate to sink just a little deeper and letting you know with a pressure that hovers just under enough to finally slip into you. He knows “if” was too weak a word; the moment he feels the plush heat of your cunt he’s a goner. He’s had ambition and determination and stubbornness woven through parts of his being since his first breath. Yet they all fail him when he aims them at restraint here. Staring down a warlord was easier than fighting his bone deep desire for you. You just have a way of making him feel so full of life that it circles back around to an endless emptiness unless he’s smothered in your presence. Like any addict, the starting hits were no longer enough and he’d chase bigger and bigger ones til he had the endless high of being always near and always yours. His body being newer to such waves makes it easier for his instincts to take over him when more becomes not enough.

You feel the slick skin of his tip licking at your entrance with each breath you both take, so focused on every little motion you swear you can feel his heartbeat against your cunt. You start pressing back more.

“Wait,” Ace gasps. He plants a hand at the back of your head and turns it to face him. You meet blown pupils in shiny eyes, brows fighting not to pinch, freckles dancing with every word and expression. His warm breath tickles your swollen lips and you can taste its sweetness on your tongue. You want to keep looking around his pretty face but his pleading eyes have you locked in their heat. “Look at me.”

You barely think to give him a shaky nod. 

Ace reaches his other hand down to join yours on his shaft. It slips easily around your grip and holds gently, letting you keep control. Your hand feels so hot between his large one and the beating cock in your palm. Testing his grip, you slowly pump down his shaft, a slick sound from the dripping of your cunt and his precum sliding through your fingers, and make your way back up to the tip with a twisting wrist. His hand trembles around yours and he curses against your lips but he simply follows your movements.

Happy with the reaction, you continue on. He begins sinking in and his brows furrow further. The slow pace lets him feel every bit of texture, every flutter of the muscles of your entrance as they greet him. He’s in enough for you to encase his slit and you both feel the reward of a thick gush of precum spilling right into you. You breath out a syrupy “so good” and Ace fights again not to cum again - it gives him visions of fucking you fast and deep until you’re hiccuping those words and he’s pumping you full for real. He doesn’t want to be hasty though, he might miss a single second of this blissful torture.

His dick is pressed in to a catch, hovered right where his head flares widest. You hold him steady and give a little circle of your hips to feel him play with your stretching entrance.

“-hah- holy o-oh -nnnngh- thank you thank you,” he mumbles and moans between trying to breathe. His eyes roll back and screw shut for a moment before he fights them back open to watch your hazy eyes and slack jaw. He pulls you forward by the hand in your hair to press your foreheads together. Those fingers begin a haphazard massage as they switch between grasping for grounding and petting at you in adoration.

You take in a lungful of his breath and his musk and the ambient sex and shimmy just a little lower. At last, your cunt gives to let the rim of his head pop in, finally warming you from the inside. It immediately has you clench down and you can’t help but moan pathetically at finally having something to clench down on. The burning skin of his cockhead presses back at the twitching walls of your cunt, sending jolts up your spine.

“Y-you -ahh- you’re so-“ Ace is struggling against his scattered mind and an ocean of oxytocin to get you to understand how perfect you are and how his chest is so full it aches and how he’d fight through pirates, marines, the whole world government just to be this close to you again. All that comes out is a grumbling, fervent moan of “warm”.

You clench again at the word and he whimpers. You slip your hand off of his cock and out of his grip before using it to make him hold his cock for you. It gets the sticky mess all over him, which he quickly uses to twist his hand slowly up and down his shaft. You follow the movement for a few pumps then bring your hand up to your faces. You’d wanted a taste but you get a better idea. 

The moment the pads of your fingers touch Ace’s lips, he opens them just a bit wider for you. He can smell the heady mix of you both and his mouth waters eagerly. Slowly and deliberately, you sneak two fingers past his lips and press them on his tongue, his eyes burning into you the whole time. He’s quick to seal his lips and suck, hot tongue roving over your digits to collect every drop. You can hear the wet sound of his working hand get faster. You shove your fingers in to the last knuckle and he swallows them down greedily, moaning the whole time.

It’s impossible to keep yourself still; the fucked out look on Ace’s flushed face and the attention feeding but not sating your cunt make you squirm. All the movement from his jerking, constantly getting faster and firmer, has his cockhead massaging every nerve of your entrance and reverberated through your lips and clit, sinfully delicious yet maddeningly subtle. Your body is begging for him to force his way deep, split you around his thick cock, feel that pounding drag against every inch of your swollen and pulsing pussy. Instead, you have to settle for a slow tilt and pull of your hips, guiding the head sitting heavy in you to press more one way then the next. One particularly hard pump of his hand sends a strong shock to your clit and you grip him with your hands as tightly as your core wrings down around him. A heavy throb of his cock gushes more precum into you. 

Hearing how much he’s struggling to breathe fast enough through his nose, you pull your fingers from his mouth to instead pull at his hair. He’s mumbling out curses and praises between frantic kisses around your lips. The battle to stare into your eyes is becoming lost; Ace’s won’t stop rolling back and fluttering closed and losing focus. You can practically taste how close he is and it sets your whole body alight. You’re sure when he cums you’ll be able to feel the pleasure in your own body.

“Ace,” you call and his eyes crack open to see you again. His lashes are so dark and long and make his eyes look all the darker. “Need to feel you cum.” The words are rushed and urgent, trying to sneak around gasps and moans. “Love, I want you t-to -mnnn!- fuck me full.”

“Fuck!” The word “love” echoes violently around Ace’s head, and he’s so wound up and frayed he’s scared he may actually catch fire. His scramble is immediate - hands flying down to clamp onto your hips, fingers sinking deep into your skin, head thrown back giving you a full view of the flush hiding his freckles, the strong jaw working between going slack and gritting his teeth, but most importantly his hips thrust against his will. A mindless,  ravenous instinct locked in place and told him to rut until neither of you could move, until each thrust wrung more cum from him only to have it gush out of you because how could you possibly hold more?

Unfortunately, Ace had planned ahead. Your precarious alignment lets the first few thrusts sink him just a centimeter deeper, the relief of more of you only matched by the insatiable need to have all of you. Just when he feels the knot of pleasure pull his balls taught and tense his cock hard as a rod, a thrust knocks him loose.

Ace lets out an actual wail as he loses your heat. The bliss of his orgasm gets lost with it, ebbing away quickly and leaving him frantic.

“No fuck I- please I was so close, shit-,” Ace sobs right by your ear where he’s nestled himself close for comfort.

Needing to calm him and missing the feeling of him too terribly, your hand goes back to his cock while you distract him with sloppy open mouthed kisses. You find him easily and try to settle him with a few firm pumps. Ace is relieved as the feeling comes back fast and he’s already tensing and squirming and curling his toes as his orgasm beats to life in his cock again. 

 “That’s it, love,” you encourage. “I’ve got you.”

“Can’t, cumming cummingcumming-“ Ace chants urgently, kicked straight over the edge by your care. You rush to get him back inside you first but his cock’s already kicking in your grip. The first spray of cum lands where your thigh meets your ass and the second splashes over your pussy. By the third you’re pressing him back in. The whole time Ace is moaning high and gasping and pulling you to him like he needs you to breathe. He’s squirming and handsy, back arching off the bed while he takes any handful of you he can get. You feel the heavy pump of his next spurt of cum and fall to instinct yourself. You push your body down his and plop the weight of your hips in his lap, taking him in one swift motion and a heavy slap.

“Yes! Y-ye-nnnghah!- yesss thank you thank you so good so good s’good-“

You grind yourself in a heavy drag, forward and back, relishing having him all the way inside you. He feels thick enough to press your hips wide and long enough to punch at your lungs. Each grind has him play with your insides, lighting every nerve to make you feel like he’s filled you from head to toe. Each grind also has a fresh throb press at your cunt and spurt more sticky cum where his head twitches against your deepest spots. It has an unfamiliar pit swallowing the orgasm that’s nearly formed in your core, filling your nerves with a new life. You pick up the pace, needing more of that deep seated burn you can feel with each rub of him in the pit of your gut.

Ace whines as his sensitive cock has less and less to give yet keeps up its pumping. He’s beside himself, feels completely out of control of his muscles and voice as he grinds and moans and pleads, yet somehow his hands help press your hips harder into his, adding strength to your ride with every push and pull. He’s left slack jawed at the feeling, mouth hung open to let out every humid pant and desperate sound. He can feel your thighs clamp up around his hips, your fingers claw frantically at his chest, your hips begin to shake and jump. Most of all he can feel the coming orgasm sink into the muscles of your cunt as they swell and twitch and begin to clamp down on him like a vice. 

“Don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop-“ now you’re chanting to him and he feels a new rush flow through his body. The ending orgasm is replaced with new interest amid the burning haze of overstimulation. Every fiber in him knows that he just needs to make you cum and he’ll know what heaven is like.

Ace sits up quickly to meet you, detouring to mouth over your swaying chest and enjoy a taste of your perked nipples before he gets some space to watch your blissed out face and writhing body. He begins thumbing at your clit while his other hand urges your hips up a few inches. For a moment you keep your hips moving but they freeze when Ace plants the hand that was on them behind him and his feet on the mattress and he starts to fuck up into you. They’re shallow, staccato slaps of his hips into yours, sloppily pushing his cum out of you to make stickier sounds, sending vibrations rattling through the underside of your clit still pressed under his thumb, and it’s exactly everything you ever needed. 

The deep pit his fat cockhead taps at again and again pulls taught until your whole cunt squeezes and then you feel like you burst. A breath you didn’t know you were holding rushes out of you with a holler of his name and you curl forward to cling to him. You try and ride out the high as it seizes you, shaking through your hips and legs and tightening its fist around your whole core. You don’t remember an orgasm ever massaging through you like this before - pulling heavy waves of clamp and release from your cervix to your entrance, each one making Ace’s cock feel even bigger and the pressure of that cock forcing you to stay open makes you nerves sing and dance tingles through your clit and up your spine and under your skin. 

You’re not the only one stuck at it’s mercy; Ace’s head is empty of all but the way the sensation ravages through his nervous system, taking his body from him and commanding it to hold you closer, harder, to fuck you faster, firmer. He knows his mouth is moving, but he’s not sure what it’s saying. His head is full of curses and wonder and “thank you”s and “love you”s but he has no clue what’s making it past. The only things he seems to hear are the roaring of his blood in his ears and the stream of praise tumbling from your lips. You gasp out, “Ace! Fuck, you’re so -hahn- perfect”, and he sears it in his brain forever. The way you pray your pleasure to him, bleed his name and “love” together as if they’re the same thing, it has his head spinning and his heart swelling and cock burning.

The pulses of your high get further apart so you force will into your legs and bounce with Ace to chase them. After a few though, his feet slip out straight and both hands are back on your hips to guide your thrusts and hold you tight. He’s kissing down the side of your face then hiding himself in the crook of your neck, where he can switch between kissing the taste of salt off your skin and huffing in lungfuls of the scent of your hair and skin and sweat and sex. He can taste his bliss on every moan he chokes out, can feel it throb closer with every clap of your hips he just clap needs a little more, needs the way clap your fingers tug his hair clap yes just like that and clap fuck, the way your pussy clap sucks him in clap so so close, just-

“Fuck, Ace, can’t breathe -hahnngh- too much, don’t let it stop -ah!- please, need you-“ 

He whimpers and crushes you in his hold, forcing you to sit still with him pressed as deep as he can go so he can feel every inch of you while he cums again. The first wave hits and he surges forward when his abs clamp tight, knees pulling up behind you to fully surround you. 

“Again?” You manage to gasp against his cheek.

“Yes,” he whines, “you’re just- fuck, fuck!”

It’s near painful to cum so hard so quickly after the last. His head is murky and floating at the strange sensation of the orgasm tearing through his muscles to make him grind and pump into you without having anything to gush out. Your body still seems happy enough with the offering though, completely in sync to milk out everything he could possibly give. 

It’s the perfect end to your high to be in your body enough to take in every bit of his high moans and mumbling and feel every bit of touch his instincts have him showering over you. He keeps nosing at your neck for comfort and tickling the sensitive skin there with kisses and words spoken right against your skin. His hands are deeply kneading the flesh of your hips, petting in trembling fingers and always pulling to keep your hips flush to his. His abs tense and jump, both with his stuttering breath and with the strong pulls of his dick every time it tries to force more out of him in a soul-deep need to fill you with him until he’s a permanent piece of you. His thighs are doing much the same, jostling you slightly against him from how he’s curled around you. Yes, this is exactly what you needed to cap your high and ease you back into reality. Especially with that deep voice of his showing off its range.

“Thank you, thank -nnngh- you, wanna be this close forever -ahhh- never -mm!- stop feeling you, love this, l-love y-y-hah!”

You guide him the whole time, petting his hair, kissing his temple, teasing his skin with your nails, and holding his back. The way he clings to you sets you ablaze but also lets you know how desperately he needs to feel held. His firm hold and your returning squeezes are the anchor that secures you both through the torrent and the drop from sharing bodies. Because of the affection, that drop is a landing in pure comfort and relaxation. Your muscles are all becoming liquid and you simply melt into each other and breathe. 

Ace may have never finished that thought out loud, but he continued it in the affection of his lips pressing so tenderly to your heated skin. He made it clear in the reverence of his hold on you, full of trailing fingertips worshipping your shape and gentle squeezes closer with warm and supportive palms. You understood from the cozy sway he set while drawing his temple up the side of your face to then skim the tip of his nose over your cheek and rest your foreheads together then find stillness. All the words he didn’t say came through in your shared breaths, which grew from humid puffs to a slow and smooth rhythm.

Just in case you missed the rest, he brushed his lips across yours, light enough to tickle before easing forward to mold them together. Your lips part to taste him once more and he indulges you, happily slipping his tongue between your lips for another dance. It’s unhurried how you kiss, lips firm and sure in how they press and drag together, tongues brushing slowly not to arouse but to simply enjoy. The slick sounds of the deep kisses ring in your ears in the quiet room along with the hushes of breath slipping between you two. Ace pulls in one particularly deep breath through his nose before breaking the kiss to sigh his happiness out. The whole thing is punctuated by one last sweet peck.

“I feel it too, Ace,” you promise.

His voice is thick when he whispers out once more, “Thank you.”

You rest your head on his shoulder and press a smile to his skin. Ace tilts his head just so to rest it on yours and closes his eyes to simply be. You’re not sure how long you stay sat in his lap holding him. Instead of the tick of a clock you have the swell of his breaths and the brush of his thumb. Now and again he’d start and leave a subtle sway or press kisses to your hair or squeeze you just a little tighter. You’d respond to it all in kind but his favorite was when he could feel a smile press your cheek into his collarbone or when you’d rest your hand over his pec just to better feel his heartbeat. 

Unfortunately, soreness begins to set in your hips and you have to move. Ace isn’t a big fan of the idea; you can tell from his grumble and his arms cinching around your waist. It's endearing, but no match for the protest in your joints.

“Ace, I’m sore,” you laugh out the complaint, too amused by his pouting. “Let’s lay down.”

“That I can agree to,” he says.

You doubt his words when you start to get off him and receive an indignant “hey”. 

“Who said you were allowed to get off?”

“Pretty sure I was just letting us both get off.”

“I helped,” he pouts.

“That’s an understatement,” you reassure with two quick pats to his cheek. “But for real, I gotta get off so we can get settled.”

“Agree to disagree,” Ace chimes with that maddeningly bright and charming smile of his. It crinkles his nose a moment and scrunches his eyes in a way that brings out their glimmer and you’re sure you’d never be able to say no to that face for long.

“Okay,” you sigh. “How are we going to do this?”

“Clumsily,” he answers without missing a beat and you laugh again.

“Okay, Commander, take the reins,” you say as you settle back into laying against him, happy to let him take over this clown show.

“Ooooo ‘commander’, huh? Wanna try calling me that next time?”

Instead of responding you give his back a half-hearted swat.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” he reasons.

“I’m filing it away for later, but please Ace my poor hips. You’re gonna make me an old lady in my twenties,” you whine.

“At least you make a cute granny.” You can hear the cheeky smile in his voice.

“Move!” You laugh and he finally does.

He scoots you both back once, holding you tight through it while you giggle at the bumpy ride. Now back to the center of the bed, he shimmies for good measure and lays himself back. He holds his arms out expectantly and you just raise a brow at him.

“You’re gonna slip out.”

“I believe in you,” he says. He tried to be deadpan but his lips couldn’t resist the smile.

“There’s your first mistake,” you say and he just smiles wider.

You shift to the right so you can rotate your left leg out and down. You lean your weight on his chest for balance, a palm flat on each large pec, and slide your leg down and back right next to his. You shiver at the release in your joint and Ace shivers at the pressure on his chest and the jostle of your hips. His softened dick twitches in interest.

“Stop that, we need to sleep,” you reprimand with no real heat.

“I didn’t tell it to do that,” Ace deflects.

You chuckle and continue repositioning, leaning to the left this time. It feels just as nice when your right leg gets to be straight again and you can finally lay down. It feels a little strange to be lying directly on Ace’s middle instead of tucked to his side or spooning but it’s not unwelcome. It’s definitely not a permanent feature, though, and you tell him as much.

“Just for a while,” Ace promises. Much softer he adds, “Not ready yet.”

You hum in acknowledgement. Taking stock of your body, you feel a pleasant exhaustion and let it help you sink further into Ace. His hands rest gently on your back, one spread between your shoulder blades and one drawing shapes over your lower back. His thighs are so warm next to yours and the packed muscle feels so soft when he’s relaxed like this. The same goes for the pec currently being used as your pillow. Okay, maybe you could stay this way quite awhile; Ace is unfairly warm and comfortable and having him sit still half in you sates some instinct you didn’t know you had. 

“Blanket?” Ace asks.

“Dealer’s choice,” is your non-committal response.

With some reaching and finagling, Ace manages to get a hold of the sheets and flap them to lay over you. He leaves them so that they cover your legs but make it no further than the small of your back. It lets the slight chill of the room continue to cool you off without going so far as to make you cold. It’s absolutely perfect with his high body temperature radiating below you. Yeah, you’re pretty sure you could drift off into some of the best sleep of your life just like this.

A thought strikes you. 

“How did you stay hard that whole time?”

“I dunno,” he answers honestly through a yawn. Then he chuckles and adds, “maybe you just have a magic pussy.”

You laugh at the stupid joke, happy he’s relaxed enough in your relationship to joke more about sex now.

“Too bad you can’t go around testing that theory,” you sigh in mock sympathy.

Ace perks up and stares at you real strong. His eyes that were just fighting sleep are now full of life. You don’t say more and just let him look and stew on your words.

“Say it again but like I’m stupid?”

“That’s what I usually try to do.”

He barks a laugh.

“Damn, must be hard loving an idiot.”

“Not at all.” The tenderness that seeps from your words melts him straight through. Thinking better of leaving it (you know he knows you’re joking, but you also know that his mind is exceptionally cruel), you use the last of your energy to get up on your elbows and look him in the eyes. “You’re a dumbass sometimes, especially with those brothers of yours, but more than that you’re really smart.” You place a sweet kiss to his forehead. “And you’re strong and determined and reliable.” A kiss to one cheek. “And empathetic and sweet and thoughtful.” A kiss to the other one. “And you wanna know what you are more than anything else?”

“What?” His voice shakes and his eyes burn and he’s so exhausted from all the emotions of the night but they’ve also been the most precious things ever. 

You rest your forehead to his and take a deep breath, savoring the moment.

“You’re very very easy to love.”

A kiss binds your words and lips.

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed 🥰 Please let me know if you did and criticisms are also welcome 🤍

Restarting tag list because Overthinking lol please lmk if you want to be on one! Even if you think it's obvious. I am: Stupid and Anxious 💀

Between Two Points Masterlist - separate character shots for the “just the tip” trope

Masterlist

[foreingersgod]

Pls do Caroline Harvey HCs

with just an eeny weeny teensy tiny bit of smut plss 🙏🏾

Headcannons . CH

pairing: caroline harvey (kk harvey) x reader

warnings: a mix of fluffy content and smut, so read at your own discretion and minors and men please do NOT interact!

this is my peace offering for being so busy and slacking on writing, full length fic coming soon!!

also not spell checked, sorry!!

SFW (barely but no smut)

i feel like she’s a pretty domestic person, i think she’d prefer quiet nights at home with you as opposed to going out and partying. i imagine her being the one to beg you to stay and do date night at home anytime you suggested getting dinner or seeing a movie.

“but babe why can’t we just stay home?! we have food and plenty of movies here!” she’d whine when you asked “i’ll even make you dinner myself! come on, i jus’ want you all to myself”

on a similar note, i also think she’s not huge on PDA and that’s why she loves staying in with you so much. it’s not that she doesn’t feel comfortable being seen with you, it’s just that she’s kind of reserved and prefers to keep her personal life as private as she can. for her sake and for yours.

which has its perks, don’t get me wrong. you almost prefer it that way, subtle little touches when you’re out with friends or something like that, her hand gently resting on your lower back or her head resting on your shoulder when she gets tired. and then you’d get home, and she wouldn’t be able to help herself anymore. she’d be all over you in an instant.

“fuck,” she pants when you finally walk into your shared apartment for the night. you had been out for your mutual friends birthday, and you unintentionally intentionally decided to wear something fairly revealing “y’know what you do to me? wearing something like that?”

and believe me…she’d make up for the lack of public affection in other ways.

i’d like to think that her love language is acts of service. like she still loves to touch you and validate you and all that lovely girlfriend stuff, but she shows her love in more ways than just words.

she’d often leave you sticky notes on the fridge when you got home later than she did, maybe leave some on your nightstand when she had to leave early in the mornings when you’re still asleep. always leaving an “xoxo C” at the bottom to tell you she’s thinking of you.

not only that, but she’d do a lot of household chores for you when you were busy with school and work, run you relaxing baths when you were sick, or even something so little as running to the supermarket to grab your favorite ice cream when you started your period.

she’d be one of those stereotypical lesbians that just absolutely worships the ground their girlfriend walks on. she never fails to bring you up in conversations and is quite willing to do anything you ask.

one night you’re winding down after a long day, watching tv and painting your nails whilst caroline sits beside you to keep you company. she’s quite honestly not paying attention to what’s playing on the screen at least, rather her eyes are glued to you. she watches the way the lavender lacquer glides across your nail, how your tongue sticks out in conversation and she’s in complete awe of how beautiful you look doing the most mundane things.

“hey caroline?” you asked with a pout.

“yeah baby?” she hums in response, pretending like she wasn’t just watching you like a hawke.

“d’you think you could help me with this hand? i keep messing up”

and she’s already perching herself on the floor in front of you, pulling you into her lap as she grabs the bottle of nail polish to finish painting them.

she’s a snorer. i’m so sure of it. although i don’t think she snores like in a heavy type of way, but instead she lets out light little grumbles here and there.

i can just picture her, face pressed into the pillow, her cheek smushed against the fabric as she sleeps peacefully. her hair is all over the place and her lips are slightly parted. and then to top it all off, as if she couldn’t be any cuter, she lets out the softest snuffs.

definitely has a scrapbook, shoved somewhere deep into her closet, that her mother gifted her. it’d be filled with several baby pictures and photos/drawings from when she was in grade school, hiding it away because she was unbelievably embarrassed for you to see them.

you remembered when her family visited you both when you had finally settled into your place together, her mom bringing the scrapbook as a housing warming gift of some sorts. caroline immediately tried to tuck it away, but you were more than stubborn and demanded that you sit down and look through it.

it’s still one of your favorite memories. laughing with her parents at all the goofy pictures from when she lost her first teeth, when she won her first hockey trophy, and when she graduated high school. you even loved reading all the poems she wrote in middle school english, loved seeing all the ‘1st place” ribbons that her mom neatly taped to the card-stock pages.

you only got to look at it twice since then, kk utterly miserable whenever it was pulled out, but you cherished those pictures more than anything.

she’s probably such a dad in the sense that she pretends to not care about the cheesy reality tv shows you’re into, but then secretly starts getting hooked on it and makes you record each episode so you can watch it together.

“what do you mean lisa called meredith a ‘garbage whore’?” she gasped, running into the living room with a bowl of popcorn in her hands “wait, wait i told you to pause it! i don’t want to miss it!!”

her favorite place to kiss you is definitely your forehead. sure, she loves kissing you everywhere, but there’s something so intimate to her about small forehead kisses.

she never fails to give you one before you both fall asleep, before you leave for work, when you’re sad and need comforting or when you’re so excited and it’s her way of expressing her support. you’d probably get her kiss mark tattooed there if you could.

she often gets overwhelmed with sports and school and family and all sorts of things. she tends to be reserved with her feelings, but you’re the only person she can genuinely open up to. sometimes she comes home from practice with this look on her face, and you can immediately tell that she’s struggling.

most times she doesn’t even want to talk about it, she just wants you to hold her, run your fingers through her hair and tell her it’s all going to be okay.

and she loves to teach you new things. wether that’s teaching you how to skate, how to cook a family dish she always ate as a kid, or how play the games she learned in elementary school, she just wants you to be involved in everything she loves.

you think you love it more than she does. you’d never get over how excited she gets when you ask if you can help her make that ‘dinner she made one time’ or if she’d tell you a funny story from when she was a rebellious teen.

like that one time you were having lunch in the park one summer, sprawled out on a handmade quit atop the freshly cut grass as you laid side by side. you picked mindlessly at the dandelions beside you as you both chatted about each others day.

“you know i used to make those when i was younger?” she spoke, motioning to the flowering weeds “flower crowns, i mean”

“really?” you smiled “no one ever taught me how, i always wished i could though”

i didn’t take long before she was picking some herself and instructing you on how to tangle them together so easily. she took it as serious as she took hockey, determined to make sure you knew how to make a perfect flower crown. it wasn’t really a big deal to you in the long run, but something so important to her was just as important to you.

NSFW (for realsies this time)

getting straight to the point, i don’t think she’s huge on the strap. don’t get me wrong, you both still use it often, but i think she much prefers eating you out or scissoring.

there’s something about the appeal of physically feeling you on her that makes her crazy, a sensation that beats using the strap any day.

she loves it when you bite her or scratch her. it’s a pleasant mix between pleasure and pain and it’s probably her favorite part of intimacy.

she likes to look in the mirror the next day, just before she gets in the shower, to admire the long red marks that stretch along her back. she often teases you about too, but if you ever stop, she’s guiding your hands to her back again.

she’s not as drawn to the marks that your bites leave as much, instead she loves the feelings. when she’s making you feel so so good, so much that you can barely hold it in anymore, that you have to bite down on her shoulder or her bicep to keep yourself grounded. it’s like an ego boost to her, a sign that she fucks you so good that you can’t even function properly.

she’s cocky in bed, i feel like she’s the type to say:

“yeah baby? feels good huh?”

“come on, speak up, i can’t hear you”

or if you’re on top…

“fuck yeah, just like that, making me feel so good baby. keep going…gonna make me come”

a sucker for praise

she loves when you tell her that she’s going a good job, that’s she’s exceeding your expectations each time. she’s a bit of a perfectionist and an over achiever that way, but hey, you’re not one to complain.

whilst she loves fancy lingerie and nice dresses, she folds for you even when you’re in sweats and one of her t shirts.

“really? right now?” you huff as her hands dance up your shirt, massaging your tits roughly. she’s kissing up your neck painfully slow and you can’t help but wonder what’s gotten her so worked up “i look like shit”

“are you kidding?” she scoffs “i’d fuck the shit out of you no matter what you’re wearing, you look so sexy even in this”

i’m a firm believer (maybe this is a self insert but idc!!) that she appreciates all body types, especially a chubbier figure. like she’s absolutely obsessed with your pudgy tummy and your thick thighs, a sucker for how plush and soft your body is. don’t even get her started on those stretch marks of yours…

you’d be lying if you said you didn’t struggle with your body image often, but you never had to be insecure for long when caroline walked into your life. she seized every opportunity to make you see what she saw in you, willing to do whatever it took to prove to you that she loved your body.

“shit, look at you” she moaned, smirking as she watched you on top of her, grinding your wet pussies together. her hands gripped feverishly at your hips, often wandering down to squeeze your thighs. her hands were all over you the entire time, letting you know that she loves every inch of you “so pretty on top of me, i’ll never get sick of lookin’ at you, got it?”

[littlebearbigchub]

So, I don’t know why this never sunk in before, but yesterday I realized that since putting another 3 inches onto my waistline this past year, my body fat percentage has been estimated to be in the obese range, which is greater than 25% “for men” and greater than 32% “for women.” I always reassured myself that the estimators that use tape measures must not be accurate when I got this result but then last week I just took the pluge and got some calipers off Amazon and *glup* I was actually borderline too fat to use them. They’re really only designed for measuring body fat at healthy rages and when I was trying to measure my belly fat I understood why - I could barely get it in there 😳 So right now at 5”4, 150 lbs and a 39” waist, no matter what method of measurement, my body fat percentage is estimated to be between 27-29%. Every single association that puts out guidelines calls that obese for men.

It’s super interesting because we all know that BMI is pretty bullshit - it doesn’t take body composition into account at all. That said though, when I was googling about why we use BMI instead of BF% to determine being overweight/obese, I found a handful of articles/studies concluding that BMI actually significantly underestimates the incidence of obesity compared to measuring body fat percentage.

It’s not clear to me what the implications are of this. Of course, I understand that being overweight and obese are culturally contextual concepts that elude objective localization in earth reality. All of this is really just a long winded seeking of validation of my fatness.

Like, there’s a part of me that is really gratified by this idea because I really do feel obese inside. It feels validating to learn this after being brushed off by multiple irl people when I tried to open up to them about being worried about how I felt I was getting fat but couldn’t seem to stop gaining weight.

It also makes me realize how much more extreme my goal of 180 lbs is than I realized when I set it. I could be around 40% at that weight if most of what I put on is fat. And honestly it does make some significant sense to me that I might already be in the first class of obesity. Right around going from 145 to 150 lbs I feel a serious shift in how my body is able to cope with fitness things that I’ve talked about before. Mainly that cardio sucks so much that I don’t want to do it and I can’t do more than one or two pull ups in a row. There was a time when I could do 10 back when I was around 130 lbs. But I got too heavy and lazy. (Also my thighs constantly chafe now.)

Like, yeah, I was chubby before. But now, obese or just overweight, I’m fat. For real FAT. It just makes me question how deeply lost in the sauce I am that I would take this so far. I’m in awe of this incredible living nightmare.

And I’m so hungry 😮‍💨

[spacelazarwolf]

Tw for te/rf rhetoric/beliefs. Apologies in advance for how long this is lol.

I wasn’t fully in the terf cult, Ive maybe talked to one terf and then backed out when she gave me really sketch vibes about how she felt about trans men (which I wasn’t, but it felt predatory and gross and I didn’t wanna be around it). but I did fall into kink-critical radical feminism when I was a teenager because my trauma around patriarchy and extreme discomfort around any nuance within sexual dynamics made kink critical conversations feel sensible. Like of course I should be critical of kink that can take advantage of and abuse consent and condition you to let awful degrading things happen to your body under the guise of consent because the person doing that to you has no reason to be turned on by your powerlessness and if you get off on that, you’re someone we should be concerned about. I was seventeen.

Kink-critical turned into, very quickly, “if you were raised as a man/amab, you’re dangerous to women/afabs because of that gender power differential in patriarchy” which turned into “it’s pretty suspicious that trans women want an opt out of being misogynistic and sexually exploitative towards afabs” because it’s “okay now that she’s a woman” which turned into “trans men Are men but they’re still afab which means they’re basically just women still” (but not in the cool bigender way, but in the gross terf way). This didn’t happen perfectly chronologically or linearly.

While I never misgendered a trans woman and never wanted to take away their rights or ever believed she was a man invading women’s spaces, that conditioning still stuck and I’m still trying to unlearn it and it’s still really hard to undo all that programming. These days, I still have to catch myself all the time. It really seeps into you if you’re not careful. And it all started with someone validating my trauma around consent and patriarchy at 17. Terfs and radfems do not have good intentions, but their words look pretty if you’re not careful. Even if they don’t start off believing trans women are predatory evil masterminds. You cannot always trust your gut instincts about certain things because your gut instincts were not formed in a vacuum devoid of biased conditioning and if they can validate one (understandable) concern you have, they can turn that against others and they will.

It isn’t your fault if they target you but it is your responsibility to make sure you hold yourself accountable for the choices you make from then-on. Being a victim is, surprise, not mutually exclusive from holding bigoted behavior that needs to be checked. But we also need to stop alienating every single person who isn’t pure of heart and mind and soul because literally nobody is. Sorry for the ramble.

yup, like at a certain point you have to sit with yourself and figure out: do you want there to be less bad people or do you want to hate the bad people? which option will cause you less pain in the long term? the answer is probably there being less bad people. and this is where internet 'i don't owe you emotional labor' activism has really fucked us over. because should marginalized people have to sit there and explain to their oppressors why we are human beings? absolutely not. but will we have to do that sometimes if it means they get deradicalized and join the fight for liberation? yeah. and obviously, when possible, it should be allies doing this work. but sometimes you're gonna have to get your hands dirty and it's gonna suck. but sometimes you are going to change someone's mind, and it will be worth it.

[phoenix-is-the-hottest-thing]

As an ex-keyboard warrior young'n who had the puritan queer views, and has since learned the arts of "Chilling the fuck out" and "The Block Button," I think you've already hit the heart of the problem square, because a lot of the fandom won't ever stop seeing men as the enemy. That certain type of dudebro that tries to erase the girls' queer identity entirely kind of created a pre-existing tension and suspicion against people who portray the girls at all being able to be attracted to men, no matter who is doing it or how.

I know I was in that mindset for a long time, where anyone who said any of the girls were bi had to be some cishet guy justifying his self-insert fantasies, and if they weren't then they were treated like a scabber or something. It uhhh was pretty bad looking back, and I wasn't doing wonders for myself constantly being in a combative state

Anyways, to sum it up, my thoughts are the fear of lesbian erasure is absolutely valid and real, but the people who portray the girls as bi/pan/etc aren't automatically trying to erase an identity. While some are, a number of them just trying to include more sapphic identities. Assume good faith everyone :)

Not trying to preach to you Phoenix, just trying to generalize my thoughts somewhere and thought you could use a palette cleanser ask

Thank you for your ask! I’m glad that you’ve grown past your defensive position. Definitely a nicer read than some of the others.

The feeling you describe is something I can understand too, I can be quite protective of the lesbians myself, I just can’t excuse awful behavior because of it… makes the fighting extra frustrating.

I guess the healthy position is a mix of “I hate what you’re saying but I’ll defend your right to say it”, “mind your own business for your own sanity”, and “assume good faith”…?

[bohemian-nights]

Is this a safe space to say that I don't care about Polin in S3? Colin is such a boring 1 dimensional character that easily gets overshadowed by Anthony and especially Benedict, and Penelope is just a whiny brat who just wants male validation and is jealous of Eloise. Also to act like she never said anything about the Brdgertons is a lie cause she had no problem talking about Daphne, had it not have been for her crush on Colin she would've gone on a jealous rant about his entire family. I know Polin is attractive to some people because of the representation of larger body types and the childhood friends to lovers trope but it's just boring. I can't name 1 intreseting thing about Colin other than he took a vacation and had psychedelic tea and Pen is not as progressive as she thinks she is she's just jealous and bitter. Also how is it that she's such an amazing writer that can communicate in so much detail but can't even communicate to Eloise when Eloise doesn't understand her perspective? She's quick to lash out at her as if Eloise is doing it on purpose, Eloise is not dumb and she has respect it's not like she insults women who want/desire love so there was no reason for Penelope to play victim.

This is totally a safe space because while I don't hate them I don’t particularly care for Polin either.

In the books it’s a bit better because Penelope isn’t as much of a snake), but she isn’t my fave by a long shot.

Penelope on the show is straight-up awful. She started pretty sympathetic, but then the Marina situation happened and that turned me completely off of her character. So by the time she had her falling out with Eloise(who did nothing wrong and has every right to be angry with her), I was already checked out.

Yes, she’s not very popular with the ton.* Yes not being seen sucks. Yes her mother is kind of mean to her and forces her to wear the most hideous outfits which is probably a turn-off for most men. Yes she wants Collin and he doesn’t want her and that sucks, but that’s no excuse for her actions.

Honestly, Penelope is half a step away from being a whole stalker and yet we are supposed to see ourselves in her or at least sympathize with her🫠

(I’m not going to get into her being bullied by Cressida since she’s nasty to everyone).

It’s kind of obvious though that Shonda sees herself in her which is why Penelope is promoted so much and given the angle she has been, but she’s a weirdo with insecurity issues.

To be honest, I thought she should’ve gotten a redemption arc before her season(she’s not unredeemable, she just needs to clean up her act), but it is what it is.

Now Collin both in the show and the books is incredibly dull to me. Yes, he has his traveling(and spoilers, his writing about his travels), but he’s just kind of there. He is just the third Bridgerton bro and while Luke Newton is attractive I feel nothing when I look at him playing Colin.

That cheesy promo they had the other day did nothing for me(well I did laugh, but I don’t think that’s the intended reaction). I don’t know what to say other than he’s just meh. To me, he’s not leading man material and I’m not seeing the chemistry with Penelope/her actress, but again it is what it is.

As far as representation goes, I’m not a plus-sized woman, but I know that it is important to see yourself and to want to see yourself represented on screen.

I think that’s the essence of Bridgerton/what it is trying to accomplish because let’s be honest period dramas are not very diverse. I think that Bridgerton has kind of changed that to a degree.

I don’t want to hype up the show too much cause it’s not perfect, but without this shows success I don’t think that films and shows like Tom Jones, Interview With the Vampire, The Confessions of Frannie Langton, Mr. Malcom’s List, The Buccaneers, and now The Davenports (which I’m excited for) would’ve been nesscary green-lit or the plot would’ve been changed to make it more diverse if not for Bridgerton.

I hate bringing this up, but I don’t even know if the dumbass showrunners of HOTD would’ve made the Velaryons Black if not for them looking at how successful Bridgerton is without understanding that the reason why it's successful is that they don't treat their Black characters like they leftovers. It’s about respect not just having people there to pat yourselves on the back and say look how progressive we are, but I digress.

I mean representation in terms of body type is not comparable to representation in terms of race, but it feels good when characters who look like you aren't shown in the worst light, when they are the main character, or when they have been given actual characterization and aren't made into a joke.

So I get why people love Penelope and Polin and understand why they are looking forward to their season, but personally, they just aren't my cup of tea.

That all being said, I’m still going to watch the season cause I love Bridgerton, I’m kind of hoping we’ll see Sophie this season

(Praying that she's Masali Baduza or just any Black actress 🙏🏽I’m not picky, as long as Sophie's actress is Black, you won’t see me complaining).

I’ll end this by saying that I’m a Benophie girl and while I’ve made peace with the fact that Polin got the lead instead(and I’m actually low-key glad they did), I don’t think this is going to blow my socks off, but I hope it gives the people who have been waiting for it everything they want.

[call-me-double-trouble]

I keep seeing bad takes and negativity about DT, and I have no desire to start beef with people or draw attention to individuals*, but seeing criticisms that are just so awful and lacking in nuance irritates me, so instead, I’m going to start combating it with DT positivity! Keep in mind, I’m not talking about criticisms that are valid, I’m talking about the silly stuff that’s clearly just someone trying to take the moral high ground just because they happen to dislike a character and you’re not allowed to just dislike things anymore, apparently. *(No, I will not be naming names, please don’t seek out or bully anyone. Let’s just celebrate why we love this character and ignore those who can’t enjoy them for one reason or another).

This will be a long post (an essay, it’s a freaking essay) because I want to go in-depth and explain my viewpoints. I’m not going to chastise someone for lack of nuance without practicing it myself.

Today, I will discuss why I think DT is good non-binary representation (not PERFECT, no rep is without flaw—things are allowed to be complicated). Keep in mind also that I am not non-binary myself, but I’m no stranger to the identity, and although I can’t speak on behalf of the community, I’ve seen some of the arguments for and against DT by enbies, and I think I can still add to this conversation.

I see two main arguments pop up most often. One is that since DT is a morally gray criminal that worked for the antagonists, they’re making enbies look like villains. In my opinion, this argument is pretty weak because it hinges on the idea that because one enby character wasn’t a perfect angel, this means all enbies are evil and bad. It stereotypes heavily and is a bad way of thinking—you should never judge a community based on how one person or character acts. I know that some works of fiction, especially in the past, have done this to uphold the discriminatory values of the time, but SPOP was made by queer people, for queer people. Clearly they weren’t trying to stereotype enbies as bad. DT is just an enby who happens to do bad things. Characters should have flaws, and that goes for queer and trans characters, too. It’s okay if you’d prefer an enby character to be firmly on the side of good—everyone has preferences! But DT not fitting yours doesn’t make them inherently bad rep.

The other argument is that since DT is inhuman, it portrays enbies as “other” or insinuates that DT is an enby BECAUSE they’re inhuman and/or a shapeshifter. This argument is stronger than the first, and I totally understand the need for human enby characters (we just need more enbies in fiction, period—more variation means more people sees themselves and less get mad over a character not fitting their exact experience). However, DT is far from the ONLY inhuman character in SPOP (they’re not even the only reptile), and the other inhuman characters of prominence aren’t non-binary, so there’s no link between gender and being inhuman in this world. There’s also no way of telling why DT identifies as non-binary. We have no idea if their shapeshifting played any part in that, either to them or those in charge of designing the character. I don’t think it’s ever implied that it did, especially because their choice to play characters who are men or women doesn’t impact their gender identity, but this point is more up to speculation.

I’d also like to add that plenty of enbies DO identify with inhuman characters. Some people (self included) would rather be an inhuman creature than a boring old human, and DT’s design is SO fun—especially the sideways blink and those adorable ears! (Side tangent, DT was made reptilian to resemble a chameleon because, y’know, shapeshifter. You can also see the influence from their original design. The original DT wore all green and had a long ponytail that, in some depictions, went down to their feet much like current DT’s actual tail).

With those arguments aside, let’s get into what makes DT so great (in my opinion)!

For starters, I’ve seen so many people say that seeing DT made them realize that they themselves were non-binary or validated their gender identity, and I think that’s a beautiful thing! DT may piss off some enbies, but they’re very important to others, and that shouldn’t be taken away just because they’re not everyone’s cup of tea. Obviously not everyone is going to relate to them, but once again, that’s why we just need more rep in general.

Secondly, DT helped people practice using they/them pronouns. I can attest to this myself! At the time, I didn’t have any friends who were non-binary, so I didn’t have a habit of using they/them pronouns except when someone’s gender was unknown. Of course, I supported enbies and their preferred pronouns, but slip-ups happen before you get used to thinking of someone as they/them, even if you’re supportive and accepting. DT, being fictional, is a great way to practice using them to get better at adjusting when you eventually do meet an enby. Not only does it sound completely natural to say, but you also get used to correcting mistakes when you make them. It gave me an immediate, “Wait, no, that’s the wrong pronoun, it’s they,” which came in handy when one of my friends wanted to explore their gender and experiment with they/them pronouns. I know some enbies may be rolling their eyes at this, but for allies, it’s important to build these habits to avoid misgendering someone, especially when you knew them by different pronouns previously. DT also gave me and others practice on correcting someone who made a mistake without making it sound like we were accusing them of doing it on purpose. DT, and other fictional enbies for that matter, are just great in general for getting people and kids used to enbies and the use of they/them pronouns.

Third, DT’s AGAB is a mystery! You can make arguments one way or another (voice points one way, original character and pronouns on storyboard point another), but we can never say for sure because they’re a shapeshifter! Is that their real voice? Who knows! Is that their exact appearance? Who’s to say! What’s in their pants? Anything they want, they’re a shapeshifter! They’re so wonderfully androgynous, too—A+ design. And on that note, I’ve also seen people happy that DT is an enby with LONG hair, since most enby characters have short hair, and it added some much needed variety. Honestly, DT is the epitome of “Everyone finds me hot and that makes everyone gay.” Gay men like them, lesbians like them—hell, even ACES like them! (Side note, my praise of their androgyny is not to put other enbies down, as enbies can look however they want, and that’s very cool and sexy of them. Real enbies don’t have to be androgynous, and not all fictitious enbies need to be, either. But I’ve read that when portraying trans and genderqueer people, especially as an ally, that it’s best not to describe or identify features that may point to an AGAB—even if it is known—as that can be considered disrespectful to their identity and may make real trans and non-binary people feel self-conscious about those traits. It’s a complicated issue, and there are right and wrong ways to go about it when portraying trans characters.)

Fourth, DT is never misgendered by any of the characters—not even by Shadow Weaver! Everyone is shown to treat being non-binary like it’s normal (because it is) and worthy of respect, just like any other gender. I also saw someone say that it shows kids that even if someone is your enemy or you don’t like them, you should still use their preferred pronouns, because you don’t have the right to misgender someone to hurt them.

Fifth, DT is a complex character. They’re not one-note, they’re a person who has their own motivations and drive, their own passions, interesting interactions with other characters that bring out more from the others, good humor, and a complicated relationship with good and bad and the ability to do both (sometimes even simultaneously). DT isn’t a good person, but they’re not entirely a bad one, either. They’re complicated. Their motivation isn’t to do bad things, it’s just to survive, get paid, and cause chaos while doing that. I can go more in-depth in another post, but the point is, they’re interesting, they have depth, and they’re well-written.

Sixth, they’re extremely plot-relevant. They’re very important and impactful to the story. Hardly anything in the fourth season would have been accomplished without them! They kept tension high and raised the stakes, making the story that much more compelling to the audience. Before I got my friends to watch SPOP, I wanted to tell them all about my favorite character, Double Trouble, but couldn’t find a single spoiler-free clip to show them! Seriously, try to find one. I’ll wait. Maybe their introduction, but even then, you’d be taking away the grand reveal that the suave-Scorpia wasn’t Scorpia at all, and it’s more fun to let that be a surprise. They had such a prominent role and have garnered so many fans, and that’s especially wonderful for a non-binary character. They weren’t a background character offhandedly mentioned to be non-binary, they were an important character that stole the show every time they were on screen.

Basically, Double Trouble is just a wonderful, complex character who had a positive impact on lots of enbies and allies. Not everyone likes them, and not everyone has to, but there’s nothing wrong with liking or identifying with them, and they shouldn’t be labeled as inherently bad rep when their existence did so much good for so many viewers. They don’t have to represent everyone to be good rep, and they certainly don’t, but those they DO represent shouldn’t be made to feel as if they’re betraying the non-binary community.

[idontlikerattlesnakes]

In defense of drag:

Drag is an incredibly important art form, as are all subversive forms of expression. However, this is especially important to a historically marginalized community of which I am a part, and I will not stand silently by as it is needlessly targeted and regulated by fear-based ideology.

Dolly Parton is Drag. Liberace, Eddie Izzard, Freddie Mercury, Elton John, Harry Styles and soooo many other cultural icons have played with society’s boundaries of gender expression with impunity due to some other asset they’ve offered or privilege they’ve been afforded.

Your local drag performer is no different. Neither is the 12 year old who secretly plays dress up with their sister’s clothes, or longs to express themselves in their own unique way. Their freedom to follow that impulse is just as important to the culture at large. The damage that is done by sending a message that their self-expression is harmful, unwelcome or indecent is far greater than attending a drag story time or being exposed to the art form in mainstream culture.

I’ll admit that I was once turned off by drag because of the discomfort it espoused. It was initially unsettling seeing men subvert the societal box imposed upon them. It seemed dirty and vulgar, and I wanted nothing to do with it. It evoked the shameful feelings of internalized homophobia that I felt as a child when I overheard my parents being chastised for letting me play with dolls or take ballet.

The very sight of it made the toxic masculinity that had been insidiously pressed upon me my entire life bubble up from my gut in a suffocating pall. I’m not ashamed to admit that I once felt that way so others who still feel that discomfort know that it’s okay to feel it at first - that’s sort of the point.

I’m eternally grateful that I had a dear friend basically force me to watch RuPaul’s Drag Race from the beginning, and to say it changed my life is an understatement.

It enriched it.

Becoming a patron of drag not only broadened my worldview but also enhanced my sense of humor, beauty, and whimsy. There is nothing like the awe-inspiring experience of seeing an exquisite drag performer like Violet Chachki up close and personal, or literally rolling on the floor in uncontrollable laughter from the brilliant comedic offerings of Jinkx Monsoon or Bianca Del Rio.

Drag fearlessly and fabulously plays with the foibles of this unruly thing we call society. In the words of the infinitely wise RuPaul Charles, it engages the “tenacity of the human spirit”.

I’m no longer ashamed to admit that I was that 12 yr old boy who made dresses out of blankets and strutted the imaginary runway in his bedroom. There was absolutely nothing sexual or pathological or perverted about it - it was innocent and pure self-expression. It’s also important to note that these harmless impulses arose naturally, not due to any exposure. It wasn’t until much later that I learned about the drag community. How much easier my adolescent years would have been if I could have seen society validate that, even in the smallest way. I no longer find it dirty or twisted or wrong.

All I can see now is courage and truth.

For those of you traditionalists who are still clutching your theoretical pearls I will leave you with this - I simply do not enjoy or connect with the great American sport of football.

I’ve given it the ole’ college try! I’ve gone to games, had friends and family members explain it, even tried to follow fantasy leagues and betting pools in order to understand the appeal.

After thorough investigation, I can pretty confidently say that it’s just not my bag. However, I can’t stop the fact that football is simply everywhere. It’s on TV when I go out to eat, it’s the daily conversation topic of my co-workers, it’s the event that completely took over my city a few weeks ago.

I can still acknowledge and respect how important it is to some people, not to mention the Herculean athletic stamina and strategy required by its players.

That said, if I were in some alternate universe where legislation was introduced to regulate the right to have tailgate parties, middle and high school football teams, and /or publicly celebrate this fundamentally American sport, I would be in full support of appealing it. I would fight for the existence of something that is important to a large swath of society—even if I cannot understand or connect to it.

To put it simply:

**YOU DON’T HAVE TO ENJOY OR ENGAGE WITH DRAG TO SUPPORT IT**

However, denying others the right to do so or attempting to eradicate/control it in public spaces sends a very scary and pointed message to people like yours truly. It also denies the simple fact that our society is a rich tapestry made up of many vastly different interests, tastes, and communities.

These things simply MUST be allowed to be expressed freely, otherwise we start toward a very slippery slope of a society where maybe something that you love and cherish will one day be deemed unfit for the mainstream culture.

I implore you to keep an open mind, and listen to those who are speaking up about this.

We are good, we are valid, we are important. So much of the culture you enjoy originated in queer/marginalized communities. Please allow us our freedom to keep creating - I can assure you that you would not like to live in a world without it.

[papirouge]

I’m from the us and I wonder if some of these more hardcore trad girls who wish we all lived in the 40s and 50s are aware that their idolization of 50s housewives is based on fake ads. So many women back then were either on drugs given to them by their doctor or hid their true feelings out of fear from their husbands because husbands back then were able to throw their wives into psychiatric hospitals for lobotomies if they had a mental breakdown over their lives or anything. Some girls were lobotomized just for being more free spirited and less like a “lady” and their families sent them to those hospitals. My grandma who lived through that time worked as a nurse had a lot of sad stories of meeting women who were trapped in abusive marriages, having kids they didn’t want and since postpartum depression wasn’t understood well, the “therapy” offered was electroshocks to the head or something else. And they knew that they would be thrown into mental hospitals and kept there until the doctor claimed those women were “cured” - there are other things I remember talking to grandma about before she passed, and while I like some of the aesthetics of trad living, there’s a lot of ignorance from young girls who don’t know the reality of what a lot of women had gone through back then :/ it’s not just sitting in a kitchen eating aprons and baking cake all day.

Well, I have nothing to add because you pretty much said it all, but overall I'm SICK of revisionist vision about womanhood and how women have been treated in recent History

You nailed it about 50s/60s housewives, but tbh I'm still seething about how some radfem try to rehabilitate 00s icon as some martyr of modern pop culture when they have done objectively awful things and that the way they've been treated by media can't solely be inputted on misogyny

Paris Hilton? the woman who infamously said lesbians were disgusting on tape and has an obsessive hate boner against Black men (there's this story floating about her saying she and Vin Diesel hooked up in a club and when she realized how 'dark' he was on more natural lights, dumped him💀)?

I wouldn't be surprised radfem would still defend her though, saying shit like "sHe wAs so YouNg" .....when homegirl was already in her 20s and that being young isn't an excuse for homophobia or racism 💀 Paris Hilton was quite awful in her peak (mid-late 00s) and she being antagonized by media was quite understandable actually. It was literally her brand. Zoomers who barely lived in that era have no idea of what they're talking about.

Her PR machine went OFF with that documentary about her abuse in that rich kids school and did an excellent job glossing over the many shady shit she did afterwards under the "disturbed rich girl" shtick....

I have second hand embarrassment watching (lesbian) radfem who bought into it and jumped on the rehabilitation bandwagon....

And TBH /unpopular opinion/ but I feel the same about Britney. Homegirl went off the rails after her In the Zone album, and as shady her family was, there was solid ground in putting her under tutorship (her erratic behavior, marrying that paparazzi guys, shaving her head, then assaulting journalists.... Regardless her -understandable- reasons for behaving like this (mental illness, mind control, etc.) those were valid ground to put under legal check, and I'm sick of people acting that there were some sort of mediatic conspiracy against Britney to make her fall out... Media harassment was just the nail on the coffin - she being overworked and controlled all her life was the main reason for her snapping like she did.

And don't get me started about Amber Heard stans acting like anyone supporting Johnny Depp has been brainwashed WHEN JOHNNY DEPP IS A LITERAL HOLLYWOOD ACTOR WHOSE STARDOM/FAME PREDATES THE INTERNET CONTAGION EFFECT PARTISANSHIP. If anything the general public supporting him instead of Amber is the organic status quo, and the only 'internet brainwashing ' was those viral tweet/Tiktok seeking to "expose" Depp and rally people to Heard's cause, which is a tactic that even Heard applaud , see :

You see TikTok defending Depp so you start being on his side? "YOu'vE beEn bRainWashEd"

You see Tiktok defending Heard so you start being in her side? "THats sO rEasDurIng to rEad #thetideisturning"

I just loathe how flipflopping these people are when it comes to interpret turn of events depending whether it fits their bias or not.

Also people need to stop expecting another #freebritney moment whenever they think a woman gets unfairly treated by the media. Britney was America's sweetheart. No other female celebrity comes close to the impact and influence she got on a whole generation of girls, who later on became publicist, journalists, blogger, etc. and held enough mediatic leverage to make that movement happen. That's not going to happen for Heard who, beside wifing Johnny Depp, is a literal "who", and is nowhere near having the endearing aura of Britney (doesn't Heard have the reputation of behaving poorly with people? She spat on her assistant face when she complained about some stuff💀)

[affectiondeficitdisorder]

Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's Eve: The Bermuda Triangle for Addicts

by Ethlie Ann Vare

The hardest holiday for a love addict is Valentine’s Day: It’s like New Year’s Eve mashed up with St. Patrick’s Day would be to an alcoholic. But Christmas is pretty tough, too. There are so many expectations around the holidays, so much idealized nostalgesia, so many perfectly lit commercials of perfectly beautiful couples exchanging perfectly chosen gifts in front of perfectly flickering fireplaces. Single people get extra lonely. They pine.

Speaking of pine… fuck fireplaces. I live in LA. It was 75 degrees today, and we don’t need any more carbon particulates in our air.

Back to loneliness. People get extra lonely at this time of year because they have their noses rubbed daily in these fantasy images - images created by a copywriter, staged by a set decorator, and brought to life by a couple of shallow narcissists who spend their days mostly worried that they’ll never work again. (Like I said, I live in LA.) Or, in the case of the image above, by an AI art generator.

We are, as they say in the rooms of recovery, comparing our insides to other people’s outsides. And they’re not even real people. 

I get that it makes the singletons feel left out, though, and sometimes they come to me for relationship advice, because after all, I write about relationships. “They” being mostly women, and mostly women over 40. (Again, I live in LA. Over 40 = invisible.) However I am probably the worst person to come to, because I don’t buy the basic premise that you need to be in a relationship to be happy. That a relationship will somehow fix you. A relationship will not fix you, because you aren’t broken. It’s the premise that’s broken.

Don’t think I’m against love and romance. I love love and romance. Often to excess. But I have no illusions that is it magic elixir, and a lot of greedy people are selling magic elixirs to a lot of lonely people. In my experience, romantic love is closer to elixir of heroin (a popular cough syrup in the 19th Century, by the way): the initial high is great, the withdrawal at the end is bloody awful, and a long stretch in the middle is a maintenance phase that falls somewhere between pleasantly numb and barely tolerable. If your experience has been more positive than that, I salute you. I also think you are the exception and not the rule. You’ve seen the divorce statistics same as I have. All the social science data shows that for everything from blood pressure to depression, marriage is good for men and bad for women. And still women seem to be the ones most hotly pursuing it.

Romance is a multi-billion-dollar industry: $4.95 billion was spent in 2022 on dating apps, plus about another $3 billion in books, seminars, meet-ups, matchmakers, life coaches…. Did you know I could make $5/minute giving advice to the lovelorn online? I’d just as soon be a telephone psychic. Both have about as much validity.

What I can give you is advice on things to do that give you some of the same happy hormones you expect from a relationship. There are plenty of other places to find them, and none has a sign with the words “adult” or “shoppe” out front. 

The addict brain craves dopamine, serotonin and oxytocin. Either we don’t manufacture enough on our own, or we’re just greedy. I pick the former, although I’ve been accused of the latter. “Well, you just want to do everything fun, don’t you?” glowered a Midwestern woman watching me attempt the trapeze at age 52. The answer is yes, yes I do. But fun doesn’t always mean self-destructive… and I barely even injured myself on the trapeze.

You want dopamine? Learn something new. Novelty is a great activator of dopamine. To really bump it up, try something new that is challenging and maybe has a touch of danger attached. Scuba diving saved my ass; you can’t drink, drug, or check your phone while you’re underwater, and it’s beautiful down there. 

Diving also gives me a ton of serotonin, what with the weightlessness and the natural beauty and all. But you could also immerse yourself in an IMAX nature film, or get a massage, or listen to beautiful music. There’s some pretty good chorales showing off at this time of year. Great art, majestic landscapes… anything that produces awe produces serotonin.

For oxytocin I always go to dogs. Love ‘em. You want to put Instagram to good use?Try funny pet videos; it’ll make your day. My sister is all about the children - she’s honorary Bubbie to half the kids in the neighborhood. One of the most reliable ways to produce oxytocin is to be of service to others, and this time of year makes it particularly easy to do that. I don’t know about you, but I always find it easier to be of service when someone just tells what to do. “Here’s a list of Christmas wishes from needy families. Which one do you want to buy?” “We’re serving turkey dinners at the Mission downtown. Meet you at 6:30.” 

I could add that volunteering is a great way to meet new people (like potential romantic partners, hint hint) but like I said, I’m the relationship lady who is not selling the secret to finding a relationship. We both know I would be earning a lot more money if I was.

[airasilver]

I’m shocked they actually published this. Here it is in case they get rid of it.

26 Times Men Pointed Out "Awful Things" Women Do, Giving Both Sides To The Story

BuzzFeed Staff

Recently, Reddit user u/angelicswan333 asked the men of the community, "What are some really bad habits a lot of women have?"

Men dove right in and gave a variety of responses. They've had different experiences, so some of the "bad habits women have" that have annoyed them range from pretty sexist to actually valid.

So, to get both sides of the story, here are some things men claim women do that have affected them one way or another.

1. "Smartphone 'addicts.' I don’t date someone who's always on social media — a woman without an Instagram is manageable. A woman without Instagram and Facebook is a unicorn."

—u/gio_sdboy

"This really should be mandatory — I quit Facebook in 2009 and Instagram in 2017. My husband doesn’t use social media either. We literally never argue and aren’t delusional about our expectations for each other. 'Social' media really ruins lives, relationships, and marriages."
​

—u/No-Desk560

2. "Weaponizing a breakup. When a girl does that to me (even if she doesn't mean it), I take it very seriously. You want to give up on the relationship just like that? Fine, but don't use or threaten me with the word 'breakup' if you don't mean it. Breaking up should be the last resort, if anything."

—u/94funny

3. "Thinking they’re more attractive than they really are, and having their friends affirm this false belief and then becoming delusional about it."

—u/stompywomp


4. "Talking too much about money/desired lifestyles within the first couple of dates, even on your profile. A lot of men don’t want to be seen as an ATM with a penis, and those who don’t mind that are more likely to see women as disposable. So, it really exposes them to a potential lose-lose situation."

—u/kinggeedra

5. "Buying and/or collecting things, just because. Things that are never used, and were never intended to be used. Just things to have and take up space in garages, spare rooms, and closets."

—u/poopinion


6. "Most of the women in my life have simply never said they were sorry about anything. If they say something mean to me, and I get any type of emotion over it, they immediately get defensive and tell me I'm being too sensitive. Then they flip it around on me, and I'm the bad guy."

—u/NagoGmo

"You mean S.I.G.N.?

Shame. Insult. Guilt. Need to be right."

—u/BigBadBootyDaddy10

7. "Not being able to accept the truth about how men feel."

—u/Warm_Gur8832

8. "Actively pursuing men they are not attracted to, then blaming them for it. Cheating and treating them badly for not being good enough without the men having any idea why."

—u/Turbulent_Ad_4403

9. "Not respecting privacy or any privileged information. Anything you tell her or show her, you are also telling her friends."

—u/mule_roany_mare


10. "Testing you — asking or doing something just to see what choice I make (my fiancé answered this). Both of his ex-girlfriends did that A LOT. He told me about it before we dated, so I've always tried to not ever do that."

—u/xtinarinaldi

11. "Always making excuses or saying I’m not good enough. 'It’s always my fault' is usually the typical response from most females when you confront them about anything. Women: Just own up to your faults and mistakes, and quit trying to make a production out of everything you get questioned on."

—u/airbornethic


12. "I've never had a girlfriend admit they were wrong, and it's the exact thing they have said about men for decades."

—u/TxAthlete42

"I've had a lot of women say something verifiably false. I provide the correct information and they say I'm wrong, double down, and don't let it go. I get the answer with verification and somehow I'm in the wrong for questioning her and 'having to be right.'"
​

—u/PregnancyRoulette

13. "Speaking negatively of men all at once. You speak truth to reality."

—u/Slothvibes

14. "Taking relationship advice from unhappy or chronically single women."

—u/serene_brutality

15. "Apologizing too much at work or in public."

—u/CarlJustCarl

16. "Believing that men can read minds."

—u/TheLandFanIn814

17. "Everything my wife does is a gift from heaven. Everything I do is expected, and still not enough."

—u/thecountnotthesaint

18. "Her being upset = my problem, me being upset = my problem. That, in turn, causes her to be upset (which is then also my problem). Basically, I’m not allowed to be upset or angry, it’s not valid, and I need to 'fix' myself."

—u/Junglestumble

19. "Willingly give criticism, but not being able to take it."

—u/GoneAWOL1
​

"I suffered an extreme case of this. My ex couldn’t take it when I asked if I could comment and she said 'yes,' only later to still cry, get angry, and blame me for it. She also had a pattern of delivering critique my way over ideas and I didn't say anything."

—u/ebonyseraphim

20. "Being too indirect in communication and passive in relationships."

—u/huuaaang

21. "'Main character' syndrome. I don't think it's intentional, but I see it so often. I wonder if it's something new or I'm just starting to notice it."

—u/thumbwrestleme

22. "I don't know if a lot of women have this habit, but I know of a few cases where they've weaponized sex. Some of my buddies' wives or girlfriends will use sex as a weapon in order to coerce certain behavior."

—u/kevfefe69

23. "Aligning the truth to their emotions. They will reject facts as the truth because it doesn't match their feelings, which is 'their truth.' Basically as their feelings change, the truth changes."

—u/thuswindburns

24. "Swiping people on dating apps, then leaving them hanging when they match."

—u/Largicharg


25. "Disrespecting their man in public."

—u/BickusDickus6969


26. And finally: "Giving unsolicited advice to their husband. For example, giving unsolicited tree-trimming advice to your husband this past weekend while standing out on the deck (that your husband built). This is just an example, of course..."

—u/CarlJustCarl


Note: Some submissions have been edited for length and/or clarity.

[mysticaltora8276]

That’s up to you if you feel it represents your mental illness. But here’s the thing that’s your take and only your take. Because I can assure you as someone who is considered neural divergent, I find it absolutely awful, abhorrent and crap. If you feel it represents you, that’s your interpretation but mine and other people who happen to like my post agree that it’s a crap interpretation filled with ableism, misogyny and various other things like racism. Just because you find your interpretation valid doesn’t mean other people will. I think it’s funny that you say “only Sith deals in absolutes.” Yet you can’t stand the idea of somebody disagreeing with you. May I suggest you take your own advice and either listen to the other arguments and make your own determination or block me. Again, I find it funny that you take a very badly written book and say that it means something to you but when someone else criticizes it suddenly we’re supposed to shut up and listen to you and you claim that we should do the same to the author.

It doesn’t work that way. Constructive criticism or a talking about a separate interpretation goes both ways provided that it’s respectful and so far you have not been respectful. You’ve been rude, immature and quite frankly piss poor in social decorum. And no, just because you have a mental illness does not excuse you by the way. Because there are plenty of people who have mental illnesses, and they choose to be better and work with it, not just fall back on it like a crutch and think that that excuses everything that they do

Again, just because it was done in the past doesn’t it was OK. Just because they called those learning disabilities differently does not mean that it was OK. Just because we have names for them does not mean that what they call them in the past made it OK. That was called being a jerk and you’re saying it’s OK to be a jerk as long as the other person says “it’s OK to be a jerk.“ Well that works for that one person but everybody around you is gonna look at you go “yeah he’s fine with it but I on the other hand would like to respect the person around me who also have a mental illness and do not appreciate that being used around them because that was used to demonize them.“ again just because you have antisocial personality disorder does not excuse rudeness. You wanna be rude? Well then I’m gonna call you rude person. I don’t care if you have a personality disorder or not.

I grew up with learning disabilities, and I had to fight tooth and nail to get through them. I looked at this book, and I saw pretty much an author rendition of an awful father. And also somebody who had no understanding of the franchise and decided to project all of her prejudices onto the franchise and then pretend that somehow HER view was canon. Well, no, it wasn’t Canon to begin with and George Lucas happily ignored everything that she put in there. The people that she depicts in these books are either hypocritical, self-righteous, very mentally disturbed with PTSD symptoms of plenty, which means that yes they are indeed mentally ill by the definition. Also a boatload of racism, rape, culture, sexual assault, which is played for laughs for men and dismissed for the women and racism in the depiction of what the clones are described as and ableism because he uses their PTSD and things that he told them was OK and let their personality disorders arrange supreme instead of getting them therapy and help. I don’t care if he “drink on the job.“ He was perfectly fine with dragging those kids off to war and training them in war. If he supposedly cared about them, then he would’ve gotten them out of there. But he didn’t because all he cared about was stalking his ego and making himself feel like the “good dad.“

As for the Nulls, they’re psychopathic in every sense of the word. One of them beats up another clone all in the name of getting someone instead of doing the socially acceptable thing and waiting. And I’m supposed to excuse that? Heck no. I don’t care what personality disorder or mental illness. You have that does not excuse that kind of behavior. Particularly in a military setting where that kind of behavior can get you court-martialed which is what they should’ve been. Not to mention the fact that he attacks people in a fit of rage if they even so is breathe anything against his so-called “good dad.“ and may I remind you the other clones were perfectly fine with lying about crucial information that could help end the war despite the fact that it would’ve helped their brothers that they supposedly cared about. Torturing people which you could argue is a wartime setting, which will give a little leeway with except they do it to civilian. It’s not even military targets where you could at least have a shaky ground of they are “justified.” Not to mention, psychologically breaking someone and then taking that person’s body and using it as gloves. I’m sorry no amount of mental illness and personality disorders is going to excuse that. People who tend to do that are labeled as criminals for a reason.

And that’s not even getting into the crap about the wrongness of the canonical settings that came from the movies and George Lucas himself and also the rampant anti-religious angle that she rubbed in with the Jedi. May I remind you that one of them the so-called “moral characters“ basically says that Jedi deserve genocide. And also that beloved father killed children fleeing from a genocide. There is no amount of justification of either mental illness or personality disorder to justify the fact that they are OK with a genocide and fine with the fascist government ruling the galaxy as long as they “leave him alone.“ Yeah, tell that shows like Andor that show exactly how much the empire “leaves people alone.” Spoiler warning they don’t.

So again, if you view this as your mental illness, then that’s up to you. Personally, I say you might want to rethink some things but again that’s your personal opinion and interpretation and that’s up to you. My personal interpretation is those books are garbage written by someone who doesn’t care about you or your mental illness and just wants to spout out jingoistic misogynistic, racist, ableist garbage propaganda that was of the early 2000s and that was wrong then and is wrong now. And again, I think it’s funny that you say “only the Sith deals in absolute.“ Yet you’re trying to shut me down and basically tell me to shut up and not critique you. Part of being not a Sith is understanding nuance and the fact that you have an interpretation, but that doesn’t match everybody else’s. You have to respect the fact that other people have other interpretations and they will call you out if they feel that what you’re saying is problematic or awful. And again if you have a problem with that. Block me.

— Is “psycho” a slur? —

My easiest answer to this question: ASK IF A REAL PERSON IS OKAY TO BE CALLED A PSYCHO. If not, then you are not calling the person with ASPD, BPD, or any other PD a psycho.

Listen to the people with personality disorders, not the people who claim they are allys so they call everything ableist that can hurt our pretty sensitive disabled heart. There is a chance that someone is made the label their own. And someone is not okay with it. No, you don't make a fucking a poll where everyone can vote, and even the neighbours cat can puke on the reblog button. YOU TALK TO A REAL PERSON, YOU ASK. End of story.

Personality disorders and especially Antisocial Personality Disorder are often associated to “being a psycho”.

And you especially met with this term in RepComm while reading.

“EWWWW REPCOMM AND KAREN TRAVISS AND KAL SKIRATA IS FUCKIGN ABLEIST DON’T READ IT OR YOU’LL BECOME ABLEIST YOURSE-“

When I mention TODAY to someone that I have personality disorder, people are being like: okay and you are eating that with fork or spoon?

You call out ableism because you heard it somewhere that being called a psycho is ableist, and calling out ableism gives you browney points on tumblr.

“Psycho” is not a slur. Sometimes not even the self-diagnosed psyhopaths know about the existence of the term of ASPD (that's how personality disorders are not in every speech!!!), they just now that something is wrong, because they always hit walls around people. Psycho or sociopath was the closest that you could name this condition in the early 2000's.

Nulls being called a psycho is not Kal Skirata’s elaborate trick to enslave the nulls or whatever the fuck anti-kal people comes up with. People with pd-s are mostly self-aware. Being always fucking self-aware is why we know that we don’t fit in.

Someone with personality disorder is extremely important to be self-aware, that's why name-erasing, mental-health erasing cause more harm. You don't say shit like to a pd that "you are completely normal, there is nothing wrong with you, carry on" because the next time we actually do something mentally ill™, you will be the first to call us "fucking psychos".

(yeah. I know. so much we, and them, and us, like I'm one with ASPD too, I'm trying to figure if I have more personality disorder than BPD, and probably have.)

In this age where everything is within reach via internet, people truly forget that media is accessible written by different generations, and when I see younger people engaging with the Republic Commando series TODAY in 2024 with today’s tumblr sensitivity standards, I think: vod. Are you aware that the first book came out in 2004, TWENTY YEARS AGO? The accessibility to everything is great but it totally messes up the ability to see TIME CONTEXT. And this time blindness can truly mess up communication between different generations too, causing rifts and we end up invalidating other’s experiences if we are not careful.

“But there were more progressive books even before 2004” - Probably. Only we didn’t have an entire library of progressive labels of genders, sexuality, phobias and MENTAL ILLNESSES AND CONDITIONS.

Not in everyday speech. If no one talks about it, you won't know the concept. You don't know how to ask questions aside from "what's wrong with me?"

WATCH OUT! SLURS INCOMING!!!!

In the early 2000’s and before if your teachers hated you, your parents weren’t educated (or just didn’t care), or your parents themselves never got proper treatment for their neurodivergency, there is chance that YOU ALSO didn’t have a chance to get a proper diagnosis for different types of neurodivergency as a child.

children with dyscalculia were called lazy.

children with dyslexia were called retards who can't even read.

children who were fine playing alone were the weird ones.

autistic people? You mean rain man? Or those braindead retards shitting themselves and throwing fits and should have been euthanized if their parents had any love for them? Oh no you are not autistic, stop being oversensitive to noises and shit and people bullying you for your special interests is not bullying, they are just trying to involve you sweetheart.

ADHD? Problem children with behavior issues.

Antisocial Personality Disorder? Psychos. Problem children. HOOLIGANS. DEVIANTS.

Sounds familiar? No? Then I am truly happy for you.

People like to use this quote to prove that the Nulls didn’t have mental illnesses, it’s just Kal who spread the rumors about them, and the Nulls weren’t more than your ordinary bad behaving children. Because Vau is an outsider, therefore more reliable and objective narrator about the Nulls and because fuckkalskirataingeneral. Yeah. Sure. But we are talking about Walon Vau.

Walon “my father beat the living shit out of me as a child but I turned out fine” Vau.

These kind of abused people In real life with the exact same mentality tell you that you don’t have a problem, you are just oversensitive. You don’t need therapy, you just have to man up. Don’t take pills because pills are for pussies. YOU DON’T HAVE MENTAL ILLNESS, YOU ARE JUST A BAD CHILD. Generational trauma is fucking shit and affects everybody.

Walon Vau alone deserves a separate post about his non-existent mental health. And Sev, now that he was mentioned here. Sev is especially heartbreaking, seeing how Nulls as psychos are treated, and how Sev as a psycho is treated in the books.

This blurb is born from the thought that the Nulls are having Antisocial Personality Disorder and I’ve come to this conclusion because they are constantly called psychos, the most common label people used for this kind of behavior patterns they show throughout the series.

ASPD or Antisocial Personality Disorder and the usage of this name is encouraged in scientific circles because the symptoms and traits of psychopathy can’t be measured objectively anymore. Psychopathy is a neurological/hormonal condition, but no longer its own sickness, because other non-related disorders, diseases and illnesses can mimic the symptoms of psychopathy for eg.: DEMENTIA.

If you ever wonder how can a 80 years old person who never showed any sign of aggression before just go and brutally kill their neighbor for a sole treebranch hanging over the fence and littering the garden with leaves, there is a chance that something is not alright in the brain anymore.

Emotions developed healthy with healthy self-restraints and and self-control will not let you do socially unacceptable things like killing to solve problems, just because your brain tells you: BASH THEIR FUCKING SKULL WITH A ROCK.

Every emotional response are hormones and neurotransmitters in work. Brain is responsible to give the appropriate response to each situation we are facing. If you have hormonal problems, or neurological conditions, different brain structure than a neurotypical people, there is a chance, that these responses are not working as they are intended, you will have different or more extreme emotional responses to things, or not having at all.

So that is why we don’t use the terms of psychopath today as an individual sickness, because PSYCHOPATHY ITSELF IS A SYMPTOM of various conditions! People with psychopathy, the “psychos” are usually on the spectrum of ASPD.

So again, repeat after me like I'm Dora the explorer who put you on gunpoint:

ASK IF A REAL PERSON WITH ASPD IS OKAY WITH BEING CALLED A PSYCHO. IF NOT, YOU DON'T CALL THE PERSON PSYCHO. END OF STORY.

[transsexualhamlet]

Some thoughts on Bond’s gender because oh my god (on canon)

because i’ve been running into a god awful amount of chronically online takes today, clearly

Most of the issues I’ve been getting, other than just, blatant transphobia, are on if bond is Really Trans TM because this is seriously an argument we have to make. 

Most if not all horrid takes that I’ve seen floating around come from one or more of these misunderstandings:

-bond is simultaneously too feminine and too masculine to be a trans man (some people have Genders, becky)

-bond showed no signs of being trans before (are we even watching the same show here)

-the moriartys transed his gender without his consent (...no)

-bond is an actor and is therefore bad trans rep/not actually trans (im.. gonna need to sit down for this one)

-bond’s personality is different from irene’s, therefore it must be a role / its not done well. (there’s this thing called... character development)

So I’m gonna take a moment to explore what’s actually going on here, just from what is actually shown on screen, and well, a perspective as a trans man, you know.

I will preface this with yes, of course, bond is not Perfect Trans Rep, nor is he portrayed as well as he could be, nor is it gone into detail enough to rule out nonbinary possibilities for him, which are valid, just not my personal experience. So yeah, I’m going at this from a transmasc perspective. And there’s a pretty good chance that the mangaka’s intention wasn’t that at all, but it’s what they created, so they have to deal with it now.

Yeah, these arent like, headcanons, this is pretty much just taking this from what you can infer from the actual canon and what it is like to be a trans man.

To debunk these fucking awful takes, five straight up essays because this is what I decided to do with my fine sunday morning:

Bond’s presentation, Past and Present 

Yeah, so this one’s to combat the first two misconceptions, which are a lot of terf shit, honestly. Mostly, it’s a lot of arbitrary qualifications to being trans that simply do not apply, and even then, Bond does fit within even fairly constrained definitions of a trans person, which kind of takes the entire argument away.

Most of these arguments point to Bond’s highly femme appearance pre transition, saying he Couldn’t Possibly Be Trans because he... had big tits and wore makeup, and didn’t seem horribly uncomfortable with them at all times constantly. Bestie, no. I mean, first off, there’s not much argument that him loving a feminine appearance was really the case to begin with.

Like these folks seem to love to point out, this bitch is an actor. A performer. There’s no saying he enjoyed all of those things. But like in most of his life, he’s placed in a role where he plays it. To the best of his ability, to the MOST he can do it. He literally said he used a feminine appearance literally to manipulate people. It was a weapon to him, and he likely exaggerated it to get ahead in life. It wasn’t just because he enjoyed all of it. 

And even if that weren’t the case, it straight up does not matter. It doesn’t matter if he liked dresses or makeup or having giant fucking boobs, if he liked it in the past or he still likes it now. (And I think he does like some feminine things a lot, though he did exaggerate himself to make it easier.)

That’s straight up just not how it works. Trans men are allowed to be feminine. Trans men are allowed to not be dysphoric. That doesn’t undermine their gender, in the slightest. To say that’s not true is blatantly transphobic.

And to say that he showed no signs of being trans, that he like, transitioned “out of nowhere” is basically the same deal.

One, he quite literally did show many signs. He dresses up in masculine clothing and alters his voice to be lower twice in two episodes, and is shown enjoying wearing a suit three separate times in those two episodes. This isn’t just because he needed a disguise. 

Remember the masquerade? There was quite literally no reason he needed to dress up as a dude to go to that. He just took the chance to be anonymous, you know, as you do, at a masquerade, and decided to go as a man, for no other reason than he wanted to. A cis woman simply would not do that.

And keep in mind, this was completely before the bond thing even existed. (He also looks frequently uncomfortable, when being percieved as weak or feminine, though this is not always the case, and cannot be held as real evidence.)

Two, again, even if this were not the case, even if he acted completely like a cis woman right up until his transition, that would not change a thing. Not everyone “show signs”, and that’s not cis people’s to police- especially someone in the position of being so much in the public eye, so sexualized and made to be even more exaggeratedly feminine. There’s no reason he would, it would straight up just be a risk he didn’t need to take. Acting like anything but a feminine woman would get him fucking hate crimed, and it certainly wouldn’t get him an acting career. Before the moriartys, he had next to zero options to present any differently, and doing so would have been a death sentence.

Even then, he still did.

So, I really don’t see the issue here.

“They Transed His Gender Without His Consent”

Now, I get having a bit of whiplash here at the end of episode 3 if you weren’t expecting it. Of course you couldn’t really predict that, without prior knowledge, and especially in the anime where they shorten things so that they’re just like “alright your name is james”, it can seem a little like they just went “hey so we want you to be a man”. From that conclusion, of course I could understand thinking that’s kind of weird and not good rep or whatever.

But well, logically, that just... doesn’t make sense.

There’s no reason that the moriartys would need Bond to be a man. It’s not as if they don’t have any agents who are women- Moneypenny literally exists. And the “alright you’re a man” conversation could not have been the only thing they said before this occurred- that happened in the daytime, while he originally went off with them in the middle of the night. This was not one conversation.

However, these are consecutive panels, all at once. And I think the fact that he does this so easily and without question kind of shows that “your name is now james” could not be the first time him as a man was brought up. He never asked “oh so you want me to be a man full time with no breaks” no he just... cut his hair and went hell yeah male pronouns, and everyone seemed to understand it. That’s... not forced. That’s him jumping at the idea, and that’s something that probably had to have been discussed before.

The explanation I can provide for this is that the Moriartys probably asked bond what he wanted to do with the new life he was given- you can start over, you can be someone else, what do you want to be within our organization? 

Given this sudden opening, he has the opportunity to be something he wants to, completely separate from what he had to be as an actor. The fact that he would accept and want this when he has been so feminine before just kind of proves itself, anyway. 

Of course, none of this can be proven, but tell me in what situation taking a feminine woman and deciding to say “alright your name is james now” would make any sense on its own. There’s no reason they would say that, if it hadn’t been asked for. This is not policy, they didn’t take in moran and fred and go yall your name is james now. They didn’t do that with moneypenny. This simply does not add up. 

So yeah, if someone has an explanation for the moriartys deciding his name needs to be james with no fucking context other than him asking to be male offscreen, I’d love to hear it. But until then, that’s the only thing that could have happened.

The Moriartys know that he is not just fulfilling a role- otherwise there is no reason they’d refer to him as a man in private and treat him as such. And there’s no reason there would be a need for another guy in the organization at all. 

And from the way they treat him- asking him where he wants to change, how he’d like to be referred to, what he wants to dress like etc- they’re very happy to facilitate not just what they want from bond, but what bond wants himself. So they didn’t just assign it to him. They specifically sent him on missions so that he could figure out for himself what he wanted to be and do, to take him out of the idea of being “assigned” something. 

Once he realizes he’s allowed to do “what he wants” he becomes a lot more chaotic and loses a lot of the restraints of a “role” he’s put on himself, bragging that he Doesn’t Do Things Conventionally (he’s not like other boys.) But the one thing he does not change is his own gender presentation- if so, he becomes even more masculine.

There’s no logic in thinking that the Moriartys forced this upon him. It has been clearly shown that they want him to be able to contribute to this organization in his own way, with his own ideas- completely constradictory to that idea.

The Myth of “Pretending” to be Trans

Yeah so I’ve seen a LOT of comments trying to make the argument that bond isn’t actually trans and is simply pretending to be a dude, which doesn’t hold up for a... a lot of reasons.

I mean, just saying that someone could be pretending to be trans is fucking stupid and transphobic, but I do have to say this is somewhat of a different situation and I get that there is a bit of reason to think that way here. Yeah, he’s had a lot of Man Disguises before. 

But like... just cause he’s an actor doesn’t mean he can’t also be trans... there are trans actors....... like there are trans Everything Else.... and a lot of them would say that before they realized they were trans they would act in opposite gender roles or “pretend” to be the other gender? So that doesn’t really debunk the argument at all, it adds to it.

And there is a clear and visible difference between him as Bond and the disguises he’s put on before, straight up in the overt text and drawings. In the manga especially, every time he had a disguise, there is a scene where he’s shown Revealed As The Real Person, like when he takes off the bohemia disguise, and when in the masquerade Albert calls him out and there’s a panel of his actual appearance without the disguise. 

The main quality that shows this is the beauty mark below his eye. As every other disguise, he covers it up with makeup, because it’s... a disguise. He’s trying to be someone else. But as Bond, he makes no attempt to hide it. Because that’s not a disguise, it’s who he really is. 

Another thing that points to this is the panels where Sherlock looks at the picture of Adler and the King of Bohemia together, stating, with the quotes, ‘that “woman” is dead.’ (do note this wording was an anime only thing)

woman, in quotation marks.

Then when he throws it aside, it flips to the bohemia guy. Aka, how Adler first appeared to him, and the fact that this was the same person, that the woman is dead, because... “she” was never there in the first place.

If yall have any other explanation for what those panels are trying to say, I’d love to hear your opinion, but that’s pretty much what it comes off as.

And obviously there’s other facets to this. You do have to take into account the line in the manga where Bond thinks to himself that the personality he’s putting out is playing a role, but that line is so often taken out of context to be used as an all out denier for Bond as a man, when that’s not at all what that is even referring to.

It should be taken into account that this line was removed from the anime altogether, as the anime team probably wanted to invite less controversy over his gender. But even taking this line as canon, that’s still not what it even means.

This line is in reference to Moran stating that Bond is lying to himself, but Moran doesn’t specify about what. Moran’s problems are that Bond is biologically female, and that he is not as physically strong. Moran acknowledged that Bond could have the mind of a man. That’s not what’s in question at all.

In that locker room, Bond was playing it up so much that he basically would not acknowledge he could have any weaknesses or could be recognized as like, not a cis man.

So even though his own self doubt could be taken to put his gender into question, Moran saying he’s “pretending to be something he’s not” does not have to be talking about his gender at all, but his physical strength and personality, which is what has not been proven to Moran. He’s pretending to be more confident than he is, for sure.

And Moran completely changes his tune about that, once Bond goes out on that mission and gains some personality. The mission has nothing to fucking do with his gender. It’s about his usefulness, his strength, and his independent thinking. If Bond could prove that he wasn’t just following orders, Moran would accept him fine.

And he did.

What bond “wanted” was what Moran was testing him on, and that ended up being not about his gender presentation at all, but about his... independence in a mission. So once that was cleared up, Moran was cool with it.

Of course Moran had some trouble believing Bond was a man, At First. But obviously, he went through this situation, and came out realizing that Bond wasn’t faking at all, and that he was actually really fucking cool. So if you’re still going on with that bullshit, you have less of an understanding of Bond than Moran? Get a grip.

And literally even if this was referring to his gender, that still does not cancel out him being a man, because, well... people question themselves sometimes? Trans people question themselves over and over and have internalized problems toward it. This would be especially bad for bond, considering how much of his life has been acting and pretending, he would have a difficult time trying to figure out what part of it was real and what was a lie. That doesn’t change the fact that in the end, he comes out and discovers himself, and once he gets comfortable and starts to show his own personality more, it’s clear that he’s confident in that as well now. It just took him some time.

“He doesn’t seem like the same person anymore”

Now this one I don’t even really see how you could take as evidence against his gender, but it’s still something I feel I need to address in reference to it, because it really does have a lot to do with his transness.

I mean... yeah, I can see where people are coming from here. When he transitions, he does kind of just, change a lot of aspects of his presentation. But that’s... um, how it is to transition, especially at first.

Bond lived as a woman for more than 20 years. Of course he’s gonna have a very well developed idea of being a woman, a very personalized style, lots of feminine mannerisms and traits he’s stuck with his whole life. When someone completely switches genders, especially in an era where gender was so unbelievably rigid and strict? Of course he’s gonna lose a lot of his personality traits when he starts out. 

When he’s playing the role of someone else, it’s easy to invent a personality. He does it well. But the entire fact is that although he tries to make it a role at first, that doesn’t work out. This is gonna be him, and what he wants to be, but for someone so new at being a man, as in, for real- he’s gonna start with the basics.

What is required of him is pretty much to fit in as a man and to have traditionally masculine traits- strong, talented, aggressive, and a leader. So clearly, he’d stick to those religiously. He’s not going to have as much nuance in his gender presentation for a bit, because he’s trying so hard to be a man there’s not room for anything else yet. Most of his energy is spent just on convincing everyone and himself that he can Be A Dude, it takes him a second to reach the place where he’s comfortable expressing himself. That’s... very, very well documented among trans people. Even the fact that he wears those platforms is probably quite a bold move for him at first.

Most of the things people complain about him losing in this manner aren’t gone at all. The things that Adler was good with- being fearless, convincing, good with kids, sassy, incredibly sly, a wonderful actor- those things don’t change. What gets lost in translation is mostly the Gendered Traits. But those aren’t necessarily gone forever.

Like with his sexuality and willingness to show off his body. It was likely very easy for him to display his body as a woman, but to do so as a man with, well, the same body, is just, difficult. I’ve seen people complaining about how bond being sexualized only before he came out is Problematic and I understand that, but man, if Bond showed off his fucking tits in a suit in 19th century London, it just, wouldn’t be a smart idea. And I think even in private, it’s going to take him a while to come to terms with correlating his gender and his body in a way that makes him feel ok to like, be a slut again. It’s ok that this doesn’t happen in the first month after he transitions, actually. 

Same thing with his feminine traits, like his love of fashion and stuff like that- he’s allowed to like that stuff and to show it off as a man, but it’s not awful that he pushes that aside for a while. It takes people a while to come to terms with just gender basic, he wants to seem as masculine as possible at first, otherwise he’s not gonna be recognized as a guy. Gender nonconformity as a trans person is difficult, and for someone in that day and age, it’s a struggle to balance those things. The fact is, we only see the first few months of his transition, and he’s a minor character who we don’t get to see a lot of. Give him a second, guys.

And other than the change from Strong Woman (unheard of!) TM to Strong Man (hate all men!) TM, there are some other changes, but, well, those things are called, character development.

He’s clearly happier. He’s more confident, and even though a lot of that is probably false, it’s not like he didn’t use false confidence before he was a dude, man. It’s like one of his main personality traits. To be honest, a lot of how he presents here seems more genuine than the personality he exhibited before.

As Irene, he didn’t have a very consistent personality to begin with. He has a poor sense of self, and a lack of motivation and morals. He’s just kind of going around and stealing stuff and not feeling fulfilled, acting like a completely different person around different people to get what he wanted, and was not truly confident, trusting, or happy. He didn’t seem to have any consistent friends, and the half-con, half-friendship he had with Sherlock was the best he could get.

As bond, he not only is able to dress and act like a man, which probably contributes to his happiness, but once he gets settled, he suddenly has a large, supportive, tight knit family that he can get along with and trust, with genuine compliments that reflect not just his looks, but what he wants to be recognized for- his accomplishments and integrity. You can see him becoming more authentic just because of that.

So yeah, I think it’s really clear that it’s quite understandable that Bond is trans, he wasn’t coerced to transition, he’s not faking it or playing a role, and he hasn’t lost his authentic self in that endeavor.

In conclusion if you still think Bond isn’t trans fuck off facts dont care about your feelings TM

[sisterspooky1013]

Red-Handed, Chapter 12

Rated X | Read it here on AO3

This is a joint work with @xfmaweezy and we are accepting prompts. This chapter is based on a prompt request from @filemeunderx

“I’m just so goddamn sick of this, Scully,” Mulder spat as he stalked into the master bedroom at the Gunmen’s. “I’m sick of being one giant letdown.” He sat heavily on the bed, dropping his head into his hands as Scully softly closed the door and approached him.

It had been a rough day, generally speaking, culminating in Mulder learning from Byers moments ago that his “highly reliable source” was a plant, just one more way the men behind the curtain were manipulating him and intentionally throwing him off their trail. Scully could have pointed out to him that she’d questioned the validity of his source from day one, that she’d tried to warn him that this outcome was possible, but he was already so beaten down it would be needlessly cruel at this point to do so.

“It’s not your fault, Mulder,” she said gently as she stepped into the space between his knees, resting her hands on his slumped shoulders. “You’re being too hard on yourself.”

He scoffed, dropping his hands into his lap but keeping his head down.

“I should have known, Scully. I would say they made me look like an idiot, but I did a pretty good job of that myself,” he said derisively.

“Mulder,” she said with a sigh, “don’t do this. You’re not a letdown, and you’re not an idiot. You’re just a human being who is trying to do the right thing, and they took advantage of that. That’s their mistake, not yours.”

He shook his head softly but didn’t reply.

“Hey,” she whispered, cupping his jaw in her palms and tilting his head up so he’d look at her. They held eye contact for a beat and she caught the slightest tremor of his jaw, though he worked very hard to conceal it. She hated to see him this way, how mercilessly critical he could be of himself. It made her feel protective and angry at the same time. “You are the best person I know,” she said tenderly, her own throat tight with emotion. “Even the very best people make mistakes, but that doesn’t change who you are. Do you value my opinion, Mulder?”

“Of course,” he said emphatically, grimacing at the idea that it might not be a given.

“Well, my opinion is that you are intelligent, and kind, and so driven that those bastards have to pull out their very best tricks to try and get in your way. If they didn’t believe you were a threat, they wouldn’t bother, right?”

He heaved a blustering sigh and closed his eyes briefly.

“You’re being overly generous, Scully,” he countered, though without much conviction. He brought his hands to her hips, pulling her a little bit closer. “But thank you.”

She smiled softly, feeling moderately victorious, and leaned forward to kiss him lightly on one cheek, and then the other.

“Mulder, you need to be made aware that I have a strict policy,” she began, dropping a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I don’t allow people to say unkind things about the people I love.” She placed a kiss to the other corner of his mouth, and then the tip of his nose. “So I can’t let you talk about yourself like that, okay?”

His face quirked into a surprised smile and she felt a flush of adrenaline. Though they both understood the seriousness of what was between them, neither had gone so far as to put words to it. Now, when he was at his lowest, felt like as good a time as any.

“I don’t deserve you,” he said with awe, and she kissed him fully on the lips.

“Yes, you do,” she murmured into his mouth, and the kiss began to deepen when they heard a clattering sound and a muffled expletive from the master bathroom.

Scully stepped away from him abruptly, her head snapping towards the source of the noise. Mulder rose from the bed and moved quickly across the room, pushing the bathroom door wide open to reveal Frohike and Langly. Frohike sat on the edge of the bathtub while Langly was perched on the closed toilet lid, both of their faces beet red and their expressions sheepish.

“We were looking for band aids,” Frohike blurted out at the same moment Langly insisted “We didn’t hear anything.”

Mulder turned to look at Scully, but she had already vacated the room. He turned back to his friends and sighed. “Don’t ever mention this to her,” he said with the edge of a threat.

“Of course not,” Frohike said emphatically, turning to Langly for agreement, who nodded his head sincerely.

Mulder was halfway to the bedroom door when Frohike spoke again.

“Hey Mulder. I’m happy for you, man. For both of you.” There was no comedic undertone to the statement.

Mulder pushed his mouth into a grateful smile, and went to find Scully.

Tagging @today-in-fic

[saetoru]

I'm white and I agree with you. I'm tired of how my people act too.

Same goes for hating men, men have done atrocious things to women and other men for that matter and me saying I hate men won't change anything, won't hurt the men. Moreover I get attacked by men and misogynistic women cause "it's not all men "

Whatever, your suffering is valid and I say complain more, be more hateful just to spite them

yes this is a good example. i think the men example is the easiest one to use for white women specifically bc it’s something they can relate to so it helps them understand the view better but—think of it as saying “i hate men.” most women say that, and it’s a pretty normal thing to say. you’re not sexist for saying i hate men bc u might be attracted to them, and if ur attracted to men u obviously don’t hate hate them. but u hate the way they’ve framed society and left u at a disadvantage. u hate the way they’ve continuously made ur life difficult thru a system that can’t be broken over night. u hate that u feel unsafe in a lot of situations where u should not feel unsafe for simply existing as who u are. that is the essence of being a poc too an extent but obviously there’s more to it. when poc ppl say that “we hate white ppl” or “white ppl suck” they’re not actually saying that white ppl are trash beings that are undeserving of anything good. we obviously don’t think u don’t deserve to be treated as a human bc we know what that’s like. it’s simply something that ppl say from frustration after centuries of being oppressed and fighting a system that keeps white people at an advantage. if you cannot empathize with poc and their struggles enough to acknowledge that okay, maybe they can say white ppl suck here and there, then i’m sorry but ur very out of touch with the realities we face and the privilege you have. obviously not all men are awful and some of them treat women very well. and likewise, not all white people are racist and some genuinely care about poc and their issues. the generalized statements about men and white ppl are targeted more towards the impact they’ve had on the respective groups they’ve harmed rather than you as a person, so you rly don’t have to be so hurt and jump at poc when they say things like that bc i guarantee u that being called a mayo packet is wayyyy better than the nasty slurs poc have been hearing for ages. it just rly shows how educated and empathetic u are to poc and their struggles by ur reaction alone to “white ppl suck” and i implore you to rly look more into the difference between your life as a white person and that of a poc