#it feels like they aren't people who happen to be women

[dumbdomb]

image of my tags from reblog, which read: it ain't women's lingerie if a man's wearing it though. that's men's lingerie now. and he looks real good in 'em too. 😘

hey, that's cool. nothing wrong with women wearing women's lingerie. i responded in tags with additional positivity about men wearing lingerie. my pov was that clothes are pointlessly gendered and my tags reflect the position that if a man is wearing lingerie, then he could feel good about it as a man. your response changes the original post, which was not about women, but i hold the same position i wrote in my tags: if a woman is wearing lingerie, then it's women's lingerie and she'd look real good in 'em too. 💖

thinks abyout men in women's lingerie and runs fast as fuck face first into a brick wall

[laeriel]

The reason I love Rin so much is that she is portrayed as a person first and a woman second

[sukibenders]

Some YJ fans: "The Yellowjackets are just a group of teens who are dealing with the unimaginable and horrors beyond belief! They shouldn't be receiving so much hate for reacting to things that real life people themselves would have no idea how to handle!"

Also (same) YJ fans whenever one of the characters reacts negatively: Omg they're so annoying, I hate them and I hope they die.

[ventbloglite]

It's so strange that some people can perfectly grasp the concept of;

"There are situations in which it is much safer for a trans woman to self-closet/self-degender/self-misgender in order to achieve safety and not become a vicitim of transphobia. Although she does not wish to be perceived as a man, she must do so in these cases to avoid violence or other negative consequences. She is not doing so through some innate desire to be both a woman and maintain male privlege, it is simply for safety."

AND

"A trans woman can indeed be butch/masc without it being a degendering/self-misgendering thing. To say otherwise is transmisogynistic. No woman, trans or otherwise, owes anyone a strict conformity to femininity in order to maintain their womanhood."

AND

"A trans woman revealing she is trans even if she passes, in order to talk about trans issues, represent trans people, or because she is simply not ashamed (nor should she be) and is proud of her transness is not at fault for any transphobia she receives because of this. She is not obligated to live in stealth."

But at the same time also believe that;

"Trans men who aren't living in stealth are inviting transphobia onto themselves in order to be victims but at the same time have male privilege. They are lording their femalehood over trans women every time they talk about being born/living as a woman or how misogyny affects them because of that. Trans men could just not be feminine and that would solve their issues, they should conform to masculine stereotypes (which I will then call them toxic for) which is actually super easy for every single AFAB out there. Trans men who self-degender/self-misgender in order to be safe in situations where being trans poses the risk of violence or worse have a degendering/misgendering fetish."

[auroral-melody]

I HAVE A NORMAL AMOUNT OF FEELINGS ON THIS. YOURE 100% CORRECT AND I HAVE THE LINGUISTICS PAPERS TO BACK YOU UP. LONGISH POST UNDER THE CUT

what is like? how do we use it?

Like and Language Ideology: Fact vs. Fiction is a great overview describing multiple uses of like.

in formal written usage, like is generally used

as a verb: "i like the cat"

as a noun: "with the likes of you"

as an adverb: "it looks like a cat"

as a conjunction: "it felt like everything was going wrong"

as a suffix: "something cat-like"

in informal discourse, like has many other meanings

as an approximative adverb: "we went like 30 miles". it's decent to just characterize it here as a synonym for "about/approximately/around"

as a discourse marker: "like one of my cats meows a lot, 'cause like he's picky". similar to "i mean, i was wondering..." and "you know, i was wondering", this usage helps to connect chains of thought together / introduces things to a conversation.

as a discourse particle: "and she's like a little weird". contrary to popular belief this is not useless -- it's just hard to define its meaning and why it's useful. to give a general idea though: in this study, they found that ppl who used like as a particle were perceived as younger and less educated -- but also more friendly and polite. refusing to use particles makes speech sound stilted and awkward -- like is a social glue.

as quotative be + like: "and he was like 'wow!'"

quotative be + like my beloved

the quotative be + like deserves its own special section as one of the coolest things ever!!!!

firstly, quotative be + like can be used not just to quote people, but also to just generally express an idea: "it's like, no, absolutely not". as one paper said, there is "no need to designate a speaker". no one is being quoted -- it's just a statement about a vibe.

secondly, as op pointed out, "i was like 'what the fuck'" vs "i said 'what the fuck'" are indeed very different in connotation! quotative be+like (and similar non-traditional quotatives like go and be+all) are awesome because aren't usually interpreted as literal. you don't report what was said -- you instead convey an attitude, your "inner speech" / frame of mind.

this means you can portray your (speaker) opinion, a summary of what happened/what was said, and characterize the quotee + their opinion ALL AT THE SAME TIME.

thirdly, not only can be + like be used as a replacement for a variety of quotative words like say, think, ask, etc., BE + LIKE IS ALSO LINKED TO GESTURES AND ACTIONS IN A WAY THAT'S HARD TO DO WITH TRADITIONAL QUOTATIVES.

"Enquoting voices, accomplishing talk: Uses of be + like in Instant Messaging" talks a bit about this phenomenon. you can make non-oral gestures as part of oral speech!!! "and i was like [hand gesture]" vs "and i said [hand gesture]". for orally-spoken english, only the first one makes sense!!! be + like allows you to literally quote movement, WITH all the features of non-literalness and attitude included!!!

as discussed in the amazingly-titled paper "& she was like "O_O": animation of Reported Speech on Twitter", the quotative be + like takes on even cooler functions when it's used online in text conversations. it can be used

for actions: "he was like: *walks into room* *walks out*" or "i got sand in my eye and i was like '-_e'"

for emoticons/emojis to convey facial expressions, even without a quotation attached: "he was like :D" works, but "he said :D" doesn't!

for an attitude that has no specific action associated with it, but conveys feeling: "and she was like '</3'", "i was like '!'". can i make the metal gear solid alert sound with my mouth? no, but i can quote how it makes me feel!

other interesting discussions from "Like and Language Ideology":

"women use like more than men" is a misleading statement: it depends on the function of like you're looking at! women tend to say use quotative like & discourse marker like more often than men. adverbs are evenly split. men use the discourse particle version more often. *note that this study took place several years ago and i have not looked at others, other/newer data may be different as language changes & studies like this aren't necessarily the truth everywhere. english is used in so many places by so many different groups of people, it's impossible to draw 100% generalizations

"like can go anywhere": no. even as a particle it is NOT just allowed to go anywhere. it's not randomly placed, it's just a versatile queen!!!! depending on its position it can take on different functions, but it can't go just anywhere!

"i'd like wake up and feel good" ✅ totally fine!

"i'd wake up like and feel good" ❌????

since like is used in so many different ways, different functions of it probably emerged at very different times

as a discourse marker & particle, like has been used this way since (at least) the 1840s(!!)

as an approximative adverb, a synonym for "about", it's probably been around thru most of the 20th century

the quotative like probably is the only one that is actually related to "valley girls" as a social phenomenon in the 80s. it may be the case that it was already in use, though, and that "valley girls" as a thing in american media popularized it, and possibly other forms of like.... in america. but non-americans use this too! it's complicated and hard to tell how language usage spreads :)

tl;dr people who don't like like are being prescriptivist about language, misunderstanding its usefulness, and are missing out

the humble "like" is oft mocked despite what it does for us. "like, three people" is a vastly different statement from "three people". "and i was like 'what the fuck'" is vastly different from "and i said 'what the fuck'". i love you "like" and anyone who says you make people sound stupid will be killed on sight

[arolesbianism]

I wish So Bad that I could confidently recommend lob corp and library of ruina to people because they're both genuinely rly good games and I also need ppl I know to understand the insanity that is project moon but like godddd they are a fucking Investment. Both in time and in brainpower. I generally think ppl exaggerate how hard lob corp is but it's certainly not easy and when it does get hard it gets HARD. Also it literally requires at least one day 1 reset (basically a new game+) to fully beat the game and at this point I've done at least 10. And for lor I'm not nearly as far in and I'm just scratching the surface of the real game but it's a beast of its own. Also 100+ hours and also hard as hell. Like this game does not fuck around with its difficulty spikes it will make you use your brain and it will give you a damn headache in the process. It's also one of my favorite card combat games I've ever played with mechanics that just so beautifully complement each other to create a dynamic and interesting battle system that gives it a completely different vibe and feeling than any other deck builder games I've played to the point where it almost feels wrong to me to categorize them together. But also I am not even slightly joking abt the headache thing every time I play this damn game I close it with a horrible headache and have to take a multi day break. I think everyone should experience this with me <3

[envolvenuances]

my problem when I say that I find most discussions on biphobia don't factor sex well isn't even "I don't think this is (as much of) a problem for bisexual men" because when you talk to them it's more often than not easy to trace a parallel experience. I just find odd how often bisexual men and women can be aggresors in discrimination against one another based on/related to sexuality.

I know a lot of bisexual women who have had bisexual men still treat them with assumptions of promiscuity and being "kinky". even more I can think of three guys with a pattern of preying on women who tend to be discarded for stable prestigious relationships because of those hyperseuxual bisexual stereotypes and then behave like domestic parasites on these relationships (and this is impossible to untagle from misogyny) but some of these same bisexual women and many others were disappointing contributors to "you will be left with HIV and dumped for a man" / "no but girl... how does it work being with a man who's been through more dick than you???" when I was dating a bisexual guy. (this in turn is tangled in a homophobia specific to sex between men) and so on and so on. of course any oppressed group can reproduce and enact prejudice that affects them but I'm not certain that's an accurate description of what happens in either direction.

[running-in-the-dark]

I'm just sitting here mentally telling myself 'I don't have to like him just because I find him attractive, I don't have to like him just because he's hot, I don't have to like him just because I like the character' over and over until I start to believe it

[andersunmenschlich]

Do you enjoy it when people treat you like a man? Does it feel right to you? Are you comfortable in that role, wanting to customize the kind of man you are rather than throw the "man" role out and choose or build another from scratch? Then that's your role: you're a man.

If you don't enjoy it—if it doesn't feel right or comfortable to you—then you're not a man.

You say you're a woman: do you enjoy being called "she" and "her"? Does it feel right to you? Are you comfortable in the role of woman, content to simply alter it where it rubs, make it more comfy to wear: a strong woman or a butch woman or some other type of woman rather than a default or stereotypical woman?

Then you're a woman.

If neither gender feels at all right to you—if you want to throw them both out and just be yourself, no helpful hints at basic personality for anyone to latch onto before doing the work of actually getting to know you—then you're like me: agender.

—

If "male=many small gametes" and "female=few large gametes," then no one can know what sex anyone is until they've had a look at the other person's gametes... which doesn't happen when sex is assigned at birth. And you're right: it isn't always obvious externally, and some people don't produce gametes at all. Are these people unimportant? Should we pretend they don't exist? Should we throw the concept of sex out a window for them?

If "man=stereotypically masculine traits" and "woman=stereotypically feminine traits," then no one can know what gender anyone is until they've gotten to know the other person's traits... which doesn't happen when gender is assigned (on the basis of sex) at birth. True, most people are comfortable in their assigned genders, wanting only to customize their gender through the addition (or subtraction) of a handful of stereotypical traits. But some people aren't at all comfortable with the genders they were assigned, and want to swap them entirely, or even build their own from scratch. Should we throw the concept of gender out a window for them?

Sex and gender are both systems of categorization that we humans made up. Intersex people show us that sex is not a simple binary. Trans people show us that gender is not a simple binary.

If someone who was assigned male at birth isn't comfortable playing the role of any kind of man ("frivolous man" and "frivolous woman" are different roles that play differently on the stage of life), but is comfortable playing the role of a stereotypical woman—well. Obviously she's frivolous, likes dressing up, etc. I don't see how that says anything about you.

And if she also happens to feel more comfortable in a body with boobs—well. It's her body. Shouldn't she be happy in it? And given that society links boobs to the gender "woman," it'll obviously really help her play the role she's most comfortable in.

Do you think Dolly Parton sees women like you as big-tittied streetwalkers just because that's the look she wanted for herself?

Someone can want to be a certain type of woman (or man) without thinking that all women (or men) are like that. Someone can want to have an exaggerated version of a certain type of body without thinking that everyone with that type of body is (or should be) the exaggerated version of it.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

payoff of being embedded in a unit of authoritarianism since birth is sure then being able to go like "wow this is just like dynamics & phenomena i experienced up close & personal, repeatedly, in many contexts & configurations in my first two decades of life" plus also beyond that in abuse culture world & the noncoincidence that even interactions beyond the confines of the home(tm) reinforced / did not contradict the hierarchy & concomitant abuse within....but then like hey yeah also the Larger Units of hierarchy & abuse / authoritarianism (ft. their logics & practices necessary for continuously & continually shoring up that hierarchy) can also make it like hey yeah the Two Parent abusive nuclear family more like the Two Party [the US is also a one party state but in typical american extravagance they have two] where right wingness is defined by the degree of directly embracing white supremacy & "left wing" is "anything else" hence like wow The Left is always infighting (everyone with any ideas besides "umm christofascist white ethnostate?" so like yeah there are many other ideas) vs The Right's admirable cohesion (simply re: the white supremacy idea which also necessarily embraces all other Out Group / Nonperson paradigms & practices b/c that's what all already has been necessary for shoring up the [when has the US been a nongenocidal non white supremacist non oligarchy])

like obviously individual experiences & contexts vary but like narrowing in on [the Family as immediate relations ideally cordoned off into nuclear households] ft. [Parental Authority the top priority of which is preserving that authority, ideally patriarchal, an abusive mother e.g.? hey, that ought to be the father] times it's like, think people tend to struggle re: having the "nicer" / "safer" parent who was also shitted on as well but also at the end of the day would always side with the "meaner" "more dangerous" parent, even in whatever terms most sympathetic to the abused parties, with the underlying logic that we're always just going to have to deal with them so some secret strategic mitigation is the best that can be done, perhaps the equivalent of being sent a ":(" after an Onslaught Of Expressed / Enforced Authority(tm) event....the tendency to see the best in any lack of actual intervention / protection on the assumption That Could Never Happen Anyway & forever At Least that the one parent isn't as bad as the other [the Not That Bad / Could've Been Worse infocation, like free bingo square in manifestations of minimization if not outright abuse denial] & all the sympathy for, you know, being human & doing their best(tm) &c which sure might all be true but the abused parties (oft children, more vulnerable than adults, by virtue of being children i.e. considered legal property of some specific adults & theoretical property of any adults in general (the paternal logic in any "protect [xyz]" like maintain one group's supposed ownership / control over [xyz] "for their sake" then? great) & also generally smaller & newer at being alive in this world) but who are liable to not extend that sympathy to themselves (or certainly not be extended that sympathy....when is "they're doing their best / they're only human / they mean well or whatever / they love you, they're family" successfully deployed the Thwart an abusive parent like it is to tell an abused child to not be too resentful of this situation, when is it actually deployed toward the abusive parent at all really. & again in the lack of boundary between the authoritarianism within many individual family households & that of the state they exist in (here re: the US) like that naturally one encounters the logic of abuse expressed just as "common knowledge" & the Assumptions of other people, e.g. the rejection of a parent having zero access to a child, the reinforcement of automatic apologia deployed for whatever a parent could possibly do, argued for "family", yet not deployed the same way to automatically defend anything thee child(tm) could do, thinking emoji lol....see: like the non boundary between [the Patriarchal home/family(tm)] & capitalism when uh oh capitalism the system of continuously maximizing exploitation Needs various forms of labor to be unpaid, uh oh another lack of boundary when white supremacy is used to also shore up the patriarchy that shores up the white supremacy, e.g. that even if in some "inferior" class it's treated as More Important that at least you're not that And black, the theoretical ideal/normal white man is a person while a white woman is a woman while a black woman is black, white women could have any legal property via chattel slavery which needed white women's participation to help enforce, the specter of sexual violence all coming from nonwhite & especially black men & it's up to the genteel white man to Protect Women (see prev, implicitly white or you'd have to specify otherwise)

anyway that is to get around to pointing to the Two Parent System wherein so shockingly the results are the same as the One Parent System re: abuse maintaining The Family (properly, i.e. unquestionable & certainly undeniable parental access to children, & "ideally" ofc again the patriarchal Father as ultimate authority w/ownership over the Mother, who in turn is theoretically honored for that motherhood (at least you own your children, insofar as it doesn't contradict w/what the father wants to do with his superior claim to ownership) & then finally all the obviously shittiness from being in that position in a patriarchy is in turn dumped on The Children who are ungrateful & owe the mother everything Because of what the broader society & immediate personal expressions of that abuse have done to her. see also ofc that two adults likely don't have the resources to raise a child in time or money or energy, maybe there's only one but also even an extended family's worth of adults aren't enough, is it enough when a child is sent to school for some other adults to be in charge most of the day, or even if someone is hired to look after them beyond that, all this ofc with the assumed premise that a child is always limited to the various Domains of The Adults In Charge, & from there i segue into how naturally being in gay baby jail unless & until adults are no longer recognized as Legally In Charge Of You (the grand like 5 minutes it's relatively been since the ideal timeline of a woman's life wasn't being legal property of her father until asap passed along to legal property of her husband. still considered ideal ofc but like with "maybe you can have a bank account" now & "maybe you can become 29 before you're in Old Maid danger" Maybe, i said, Maybe....anyway that obviously adults(tm) being divided up (atomised. spritz) into Households isn't even supposed to be enough to live on their own, re: necessitating Marriage, much less uh oh having kids who are stuck with their parents who are stuck with them, but then all the obvious actual problems & abuses inflicted on Adults to have to have their family households & exploited jobs are dumped on the children who Must appreciate & be loyal to the parents (i.e. never Deny Access) while yknow kids have Fake Problems they're whining about, the one Real Problem of having to pay a bill gets the payoff of leverage to tell your children to shut the fuck up or perhaps the more vulnerable spouse

hm didn't segue right into "so shoutout to like The Ratchet Effect diagrams lol, the "Two" Party System where its supposed left wing Blocks Movement To The Left, right wing Moves Everything To The Right" but even that is like, mm, conferring a passivity to what democrats do in the continual movement to the right (won an election? lost an election? the lesson either way is The Right Is Right; exact same logic as in "winning or losing" "the war on crime" like the collection & analysis of whatever statistics show the trend of some "crime" is increasing in frequency or magnitude? show that it's decreasing? the lesson either way is Cops Need More Power) like the institutional effort of democrats to push a candidate nobody wants through primaries (did we even do that this time around. oh great that the assumed candidate even graciously agreed to not force themself as The Candidate, & now like 5 min left with the Next In Line candidate dumped on everyone now with the lesson for the left(tm) to shut up already lol) & then it's up to Grassroots Voters. it's up to Unity & well we all Need to listen to the white supremacists, points were made, in the "elections" with voting as limited as possible & with the electoral college & supreme court as Safeguards against democracy & here's the senate, eternally thus, & again the conclusions will always manage to be moving To The Right, paraphrasing from twitter like democrats are about to be or already at the point of "in the name of unity we will no longer be running against republicans; it's too divisive :(" which yknow is already The Statements of all of yesterday from various like "i'm the republican official white supremacy agree-er now" after also the entire campaign of "no, I'm the fascist" where like wow shocking that the appeal to the fascists didn't win a) the fascists who will ofc want the even more overt fascism, why wouldn't they or b) the people who want antifascism actually, and do not want fascism; who could have foreseen? & it's always the fault of being Too Antifascist for the actions of the fascists or the Diplomatic Comprimises the other party makes with the fascists &/or their Failure to thwart them....the Nicer, Safer party in power is surely doing their best & at least they're not the Meaner, More Dangerous one but at the end of the day they'll always side with that party over america(tm) & those bearing the brunt of the actions of State Power can be told to keep their chin up or else to stop acting out b/c how do you expect that state power to respond, cmon, you bring it upon yourself, & you Have to work with them & understand all their feelings & your role in resolving those feelings by being lesser inferior property, you do Have to understand, b/c in the end this is All About Family, surely Good & Necessary, whoops i mean in the end this is All About America

anyway yeah i'm like damn my "nicer" (also shitty) father who was also the even more sexist & racist (& certainly no Less ableist, queerphobic) parent was basically the democratic party of the Two Parent System of Family Government lol. b/c we Need to perpetuate this Family, no other logics much less actions are acceptable....& people struggling with the Parent / Adults in their life like that who were the "safe" & "protective" ones who markedly failed to protect & minimized the harm afterwards but also in general, never to confront the reality of the situation, or do damage control like "aw some points were made at all :( ah i see you have Feelings about this :( hmm yes the Parental Power is gonna have to make some changes" & then as soon as possible (assuming reeling in the party who was deviating too much) these changes(tm) are already compromised or diminished if done at all, & then oops things incrementally might be right back to how they always were, no guarantees it won't be Worse b/c the Power is even more insecure / aware of weaknesses, & the only way this is thwarted is if the Wayward Parties can actually leverage new boundaries / less vulnerability, not b/c the supposedly sympathetic parties, who never came through where it counts & likely would also become overt antagonizers / wielders of whatever power within the Family hierarchy / turn on the more vulnerable parties to Get Them In Line, actually came through. movement Away (more disruptive to the maintenance of The Family, The State) is blocked, incrementally only ever moving everything back, & then Further....& despite this being what the power structures are, & do, the Disruptive parties liable to be scapegoated lol, can't believe the scapegoat child is ruining everything for everyone, this Family would totally improve & start being everything it could be otherwise & we ignore who actually has the power & is actually enforcing the hierarchy harming everyone to point to that scapegoat; can't believe thee left is destroying america (republican voice) can't believe the left is destroying america (democrat voice) So You See? The Undeniable Consensus. just like how i believe it was my fault my family unit was Like That & i had those experiences, according to the vast majority of Input from that family & even others who, knowing nothing, would say how Lucky i was to be relatively close to home, or just of course that oh well parents love their children & mean well & try their best. just like how i believe that being treated like i've been generally as a neurononconforming person, i.e. hated & the interpersonal abuse & bullying & ostracization & [attention possibilities: ignored, responded to but negatively, interacted with to get something from] & actually rewarding interactions or just actions being liable to get Deluxe authority responses as disruptive(tm) & ofc disobedient(tm) like hell fuckin yeah lol. just as i don't think that other people who have similar experiences or ones i don't have, i.e. assessed race being automatically seen as wrong / inferior, being isolated & undermined from all around? well gotta be their fault then, cmon lol....Abuse is actually normative, not extraordinary, in every Arena of interactions, & so are the logics / apologia / assumptions

anyway lol re: like yeah people struggling with the like betrayal of the "nooo i'm on your side, i sympathize, i'm the one who's nicer & you Need so that things aren't even worse" party, not even One Big Novel betrayal, but rather that that's what's Been done the whole time & doesn't stop. that supposedly if you have Any sympathy for that party you have to be like aw :( keep doing your thing (necessarily reining everyone in) or if you have Any sympathy for the people who also want things to improve but blame & take it out on the more disruptive parties (more disruptive to an abusive family e.g., btw. & not like i see Cohesion as necessarily some Good rather than neutral? when i'm autistic / my existence is supposedly antithetical to this? or when i'm able to look at a zillion hypothetical or actual situations & recognize how "cohesion" isn't the best goal / a destructive one / a vague concept anyways like cohesion Between Whom? on what basis? recognized & pursued how? why? up next: same as vague shit like "family" or "community" &c) then it's like yep gotta be Responsible for their feelings too if you're at all sympathetic & capitulate, The Only Possible Action, vs the idea of those in power actually making things shit stopping, much less being stopped / having to stop in the various ways that can happen....one way being "oh no, adult children who choose to be no-contact with parents" which is seen as A Tragedy, & sign of a Deteriorating Society, take me back. ah jeez oh no, look at the divorce raaates....Oh No, twentysomething women aren't pursuing marriage enoughhhh....again the undetectably identical echo when people peak vaguely talk about "conflicts" that thwart "community" or whatever, ugh nobody will date anymore, commit anymore, be friends anymore, hang out as coworkers anymore, talk to me if i want to talk to them anymore, &ccccc....

the real tl;dr is like wait ""two party"" (one party) US electoral system, just like ""two parent"" maintenance of thee family lol. ratchet effect raise your hand if you've only ever experienced Movement Away from the abusive family blocked, forever incrementally ratcheted back in to the desires & pursuits of those most in power / top of the hierarchy / thus of course most invested in the abuse, that's what the power & hierarchy is made of, sustained by, perpetuates....sorry doing our best :( sorry that's just all that's realistic, no other choice Really. cmon. kind of Your Fault if you don't agree to that & whoops now Everything is the fault of whoever doesn't agree & cooperate enough :( now look what you've done & brought upon yourself :( & we'll just forget the eruption of violence suppression happened & will happen again & be the overhanging threat all in the meantime

[autumnrory]

cowboy carter is absolutely my fave beyonce album since lemonade like it doesn't seem like a lot that i've already listened twice in two days but for me who so often is like okay i'll listen to a new release and then come back to it in a week or so bc i'm listening to so much other stuff it does show how much i'm into this one

[mechanicalemotions]

Y'know, when cis people pull the 'All trans men have to do to pass is throw on a hoodie and cut their hair.' It's like... Right. That's dumb, but you're cis, and you will never understand the lived trans experience.

It bothers me more when trans women say it. Because it's like? You know things aren't that easy, you are trans.

Trans women get shoulder dysphoria from feeling like they're too wide, hip dysphoria from feeling like they're too slim, chest dysphoria from feeling like it's too flat, voice dysphoria from feeling like it's too low, height dysphoria from feeling too tall. And no one will suggest to them that these feelings (and subsequent perceptions and hate from cis people) will be solved by growing out their hair and throwing on a dress.

What makes them think trans men don't experience the exact same things but in reverse? Shoulders that feel too narrow, hips that feel too wide, chest that feels too big, voice that feels too high, height that feels too short.

If you experience dysphoria, know dysphoria, and know how awful it can get. And you also know that cis people will use these things against you in order to misgender you. Then I do not understand why you would pretend another party in the same category would not have these issues whatsoever.

And I feel the need to clarify, because this always happens when someone makes a post about trans men's struggles. This is not a dig at trans women, this is not transmisogyny. This is about a very specific group of trans people who downplay the issues of trans men. If you are not part of that group, good! Then this is not a dig at you.

[prettycottonmouthlamia]

So I have seen this exact response before and I'm going to call this out very plainly as for what it is: this is moving the goalposts. I'm going to engage with it because I'm a very nice person and there needs to be a serious rebuttal against this, but my post is not about this and neither are the grand majority of the posts about egg jokes. If it were truly just interpersonal, I wouldn't have to bring up feminist principles.

When I was a kid, there was a pretty common joke based on my last name that I will not be repeating out of respect for my privacy. It was extremely simple, and entirely benign, word association, and it upset me at the time. The key thing here is there was nothing wrong with the joke inherently, it was that the kids saying it with ill intent. If it happened now, I wouldn't care really. I've grown up.

There's nuance to every social interaction when it comes to comedy, but something that is important to talk about here, is that making someone uncomfortable is not a fucking crime. It is, in fact, a normal part of human interaction. We will make each other uncomfortable. Making someone uncomfortable is not a sign anyone has done anything wrong. Truth be told, if I made a joke, and someone came to me afterwards and said "hey that joke bothered me" I would probably stop.

However. This doesn't mean that uncomfortable feelings around certain jokes can't be revealing. If I made a joke about how white someone was and they got upset over it, it might be worth interrogating why that was. I get cranky about jokes about cooking, because I actually use spices thank you very much, spices absolutely fuck. But I wouldn't get upset over it, I'd probably just make a snarky reply. Sometimes an uncomfortable feeling is not best suited for a sit down conversation either, sometimes the best way to let it out is a little bit of good natured sparring.

It really should be noted here as well as we're talking about this, that egg jokes used to be extremely popular until a very short while ago. So much so there was it's own counter humor. I like egg jokes, but jokes about the "Prime Directive" of transness are in fact, pretty great too. The entire concept of the egg is pretty unserious to begin with, and I can think of jokes revolving around eggs that are considerable meaner than the trans egg joke (like, I'm a fan of Northernlion. You know).

It hasn't been until very recently where people have taken the idea that someone might be uncomfortable as "oh god, someone has been harmed" and have started this very weird crusade against egg jokes. The idea that a person's uncomfortableness is sacrosanct is deeply poisoning to any sort of good faith discussion or debate. You should be willing to engage with it, but it's not all coming from a good place, and that's the kind of posts this post is in conversation with.

The posts insisting egg jokes cause legitimate harm and that they're actually signs that mean, awful trans women aren't really feminists. The point of this post is to point out that maybe someone who gets really upset with egg jokes has some unpacking to do regarding their feelings on their own masculinity. These jokes are harmless and said with good intent. When someone says they really like gender tf fiction, especially nonconsensual tf, when a trans woman says 🥚!?, they're not making fun of the person. They're going "hahaha, that was me too!"

I bring up mirroring too, because this conversation is not all encompassing. It is almost entirely focused on trans women and egg jokes made at men. But there are egg jokes made as cishet women too. There was an entire bit of posting from trans men about how we shouldn't be mean to fujoshi, because a lot of them actually aren't fetishizing gay men, they're closeted trans men! They're eggs! Sometimes said seriously, and sometimes said purely as the same kind of egg jokes. Were there going to be cis women who felt that their femininity was being threatened? Sure.

This mirroring brings up the actual issue people have with egg jokes: the idea that you, as a trans woman, could be suggesting a cis man could be a woman is offensive. A cis man's gender identity, perceived masculinity, and insistence on his "cis" nature are worth defending. Meanwhile, these are not true for a cis woman. A suggestion by a trans man that a cis woman might actually be a man is flattering. Her gender identity, femininity, and cisness are not worth defending. Why would they be? Masculinity is a compliment.

This is a perspective that is deeply, DEEPLY, anti-feminist. It aligns with current societies views on masculinity and femininity, about the perceived worth of men and women. The transgression of becoming feminine, of becoming a woman, is the main crime than trans women are saddled with by society.

So ultimately. No. This post is not about that, the posts this post is disagreeing with is not about that, and ultimately, this is all being talked about and discussed on a deeper level than you seem to care to be. I hope you have a wonderful day all things considered.

I'm beginning to think in the context of "haha you might be trans" and "wow all men suck" jokes being perceived on this website as deeply awful and offensive to the person being joked about that a lot of you have deeply shitty cis men friends who can't take a joke.

When a friend of mine recommended Gushing Over Magical Girls I literally went "have you tried estrogen???" because the only people I saw talking about this series were other trans women, but he's not a fucking baby and found it funny. He did not find it an attack on his fucking masculinity or whatever.

The idea that trans women are reinforcing awful gender stereotypes through egg jokes, that we're pressuring feminine men somehow into being trans women, is TERF rhetoric. It's the defining rhetoric of conversion therapy, that trans people and trans healthcare are taking feminine, gay men and turning them into trans women. Just admit that you fucking hate women and get away from us.

[musical-chick-13]

You know...normally the "guy is sad and murders people over it because how dare other people be happy" archetype is very annoying, but I think they made it work this time.

[renthony]

There's a post going around right now about women being allowed to wear pants, and the way that relates to discussions on gender nonconformity, etc.. There's a long thread of folks talking about how women very much do not have absolute freedom to dress masculine, and a few other posts that have spawned off the main discussion.

And I haven't added onto that main post because I didn't feel like I had much to add, but now it's been a couple days and I can't stop thinking about how I was forced to wear a dress to my high school graduation in small-town Mississippi. I'm not a woman, but I didn't know that yet, so it's a relevant story.

The school administration threatened every single girl with the punishment of being banned from walking across the stage if we wore pants beneath our graduation robes. We got an entire lecture about how it was inappropriate for us to wear pants to such an important formal event.

My school had a strict uniform policy, and the graduating seniors being allowed to wear our own clothes to graduation was seen as a huge fucking deal. We'd spent four years not being allowed to wear our own clothes or accessories, and graduation was supposed to be our time to finally wear what we wanted. This was a bigger deal than it might have been otherwise, because my school also refused to allow us to decorate our graduation caps. We were not allowed to display any customization at all. One girl put her name on hers so her family could find her from the crowded stands, and the school administration made her throw her hat away and buy a new one or else she wouldn't be allowed in the event hall.

The school, knowing how excited many of us were about picking our outfits, gave us a strict dress code. Our outfits wouldn't be seen until after we took off the graduation robes to go home, but still, we had a nightmarishly strict guide for what we were allowed to wear beneath them. They had to be formal outfits, they had to fit a certain color scheme, they had to adhere to the school policy about skirt length and skin visibility, and, naturally, they were extra harsh on the girls, as dress code policies always are.

One guy joked that he was going to go naked underneath in solidarity with all the girls who were upset about the dress requirement. He got pulled aside by an administrator and told that if he made that joke again, he wouldn't be given his diploma. Which I'm pretty sure is illegal, but it was still the threat that got made.

Everyone was pissed, several people were livid because they had already bought an outfit they were now not allowed to wear, because the administration had actively misled us for weeks into believing we would be allowed to wear what we wanted. There had been no mention of dress code requirements until they dropped them on us at rehearsal the morning of graduation, less than 12 hours before the event.

We had no power to override the school administration. We were given a strict lecture at rehearsal about how flouting dress codes is unprofessional and if we gave that kind of attitude to people over dress codes in the workplace, we'd be fired.

We were ultimately told that, "if it's not appropriate for church, it's not appropriate for graduation." Those of us who asked "what if we aren't Christian and don't even go to church" were told "you still know what kind of clothes church clothes are, so stop being rude."

This happened in May of 2011.

[joelscurls]

I wanna show you off

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 4.1k

summary: The women who live in your building aren't subtle in their hatred for you — or their affection for your boyfriend, Joel. You decide to set them straight.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, porn with plot, no outbreak, established relationship, implied age gap, horrible neighbors, general cattiness, all the ladies want Joel, alcohol consumption, fluff, explicit smut, possessive!reader, exhibitionism, dirty talk, oral (m receiving), facefucking, unprotected piv, creampie, one (1) spank, use of pet names (baby, angel, darlin', etc.), I think that's all? lmk if I missed anything!

a/n: idk what happened. I saw one too many tiktok edits set to the song agora hills by doja cat and blacked out. anyway, enjoy!

If it weren’t for your rent-controlled apartment with a perfect view of the downtown skyline, you would’ve moved out of your building by now.

Your neighbors don’t like you. You’re certain of it. You can tell by the way the ladies stick their noses up at you in the elevator and whisper to each other the second they think you’re out of earshot.

It had started, you suspect, because of your age. You’re a lot younger than all of the other residents here, your apartment left to you by your grandmother after she passed away.

The building is prime real estate, situated in the heart of one of the city’s most desirable neighborhoods. Most of the people who live here have done so for ten, twenty, even thirty years. And it seems that time has festered a sort of social hierarchy: one which places you at the very bottom.

You shouldn’t care. And you hadn’t, for a while. But their eyes have started to feel like daggers, pointed directly at you at all times, and you feel as if you can’t even enter the building without judgment.

You’re not a bad neighbor. You’re not. You’d learned through living in a dormitory in college how thin shared walls can be, and, as a result, the proper volume at which to keep your music; how you should always be cautious to not let your door slam closed on the way in; that you should never vacuum after eight pm or before eight am.

You never leave trash in the hallway, and you park your car only in your allotted spot, despite the fact that it’s the farthest away from the building.

Even so, the lack of weathering in your face makes them look at you like you’re less, like you’re a greedy little thing who has taken something she isn’t worthy of.

It’s the same way they look at you when they see you with your boyfriend, Joel, for the first time.

They leer when you walk into the foyer, hand-in-hand with an older man. He’s handsome, rugged, something out of Nicholas Sparks novel. And you’re you.

Joel thinks you’re being paranoid at first, says they couldn’t possibly hate such a sweet, friendly girl. The girl he loves so damn much. But it doesn’t take long for him to notice it too: the glares, the scoffs, the misplaced judgment — never set in his direction, only ever yours.

One Sunday afternoon, as he sits on your couch watching the Cowboys game with a sweating bottle of beer in his hand, you step out to grab your mail. You’re close to tears when you return, flinging the door open, envelopes slipping from your trembling fingers. 

He leaps up as soon as he catches sight of your face. Your expression is stuck somewhere between sadness and rage, bottom lip tucked between your teeth so firmly he worries you’ll draw blood.

“I hate them,” you sob as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you against his broad chest. You’re wetting his shirt, the one he just bought the other day. But he won’t let you lift your head. If anything, he holds you tighter.

“Wanna tell me what happened, darlin?” he asks, leading you toward the couch. You sit down together, your body still wrapped in his, and you groan.

“It’s stupid.” Your voice is muffled by cotton. He loosens his grip on you only enough to let you turn your face. “I was getting my mail, and they were down in the lobby,” you sniff. “The woman who lives right next door – the one with the outdated perm, and the one across the hall with the yippy little dog.”

“Mhm,” Joel soothes, running his thumb gently along the tense line of your jaw. “Did they say somethin’ to you?”

You huff. “No, not to me. They didn’t see me there.”

Their hushed voices still ring in your head like a fire alarm in need of new batteries: relentless, infuriating.

Don’t know what in the world a handsome gentleman like that is doing with a little girl like her. You’re tellin’ me. What a shame. Such a young thing – she can’t possibly know how to handle a man like that. He needs a woman his own age!

“They said I’m not good for you,” you weep. “That I’m too young. That I — I c-can’t be what you need.”

“Darlin,” Joel drawls. He fishes the tv remote off of the coffee table and flicks the screen off. Drops it somewhere next to him on the cushion. The apartment is noticeably quiet now, apart from your shaky breaths and the dull drone of an idling truck engine from the street below.

“You know I love you, right?” 

You sniff again. Nod. 

“I don’t give a shit if people think you’re too young for me,” he huffs. “You’re a grown woman. You give me everything I could possibly need and then some.”

“Yeah?” you squeak. You know deep down that Joel wouldn’t stay with you if he had any reservations about any aspect of your relationship. But after months of no reprieve from stinging glares and brash insults, you feel as if you’ve been broken down, reduced to an anxious, overwrought version of yourself. 

Joel repositions himself, sprawling back on the couch and pulling you with him so that you’re laying against him. “Yeah,” he repeats, stroking your hair. He tucks a loose strand behind your ear, away from your glassy eyes. “Those ladies can get their asses in line.” 

You laugh, then — a real, genuine laugh — the kind that Joel can somehow always pull out of you, even in the most inopportune of times.

You’re so grateful for him, for his innate ability to calm you down when it feels like the world is crumbling below your feet. Grateful that he’s yours.

You lift your head. Prop yourself up by the elbow on Joel’s thigh. Wipe away the lingering wet on your cheeks with a deep, settling breath. 

“Does it stroke your ego, having a fan club of women who wanna fuck you?”

He smirks. Pulls you closer to him with a hand cradling your face. 

“Maybe a little,” he whispers, his lips ghosting yours. “Does it stroke your ego, bein’ the only one who gets to fuck me?” 

And in truth, it does. You’re the only one who knows where he likes to be kissed, how he likes his cock stroked, how to make him cum embarrassingly quick with just your mouth.

You’ve learned him intimately, every inch of him.  Ruined him for any other woman.

So in a fucked up kind of way — it does.

“Yeah,” you admit. You suck his bottom lip into your mouth, silently reveling in the way he immediately moans, the way he bends to you.

“These all mine?” You bring a finger to his lips, sputter on a shaky exhale when he unexpectedly parts them and sucks the digit into his mouth.

“Mhm,” he hums around you, takes your free hand in his and guides it down his body, across the expanse of his torso, the plush of his belly, pausing when you reach his crotch. 

Your pulse quickens, then, a dull throb forming at the base of your neck. You extricate your finger from his mouth with a gentle pop.

“This too,” he whispers, canting his hips up toward the flat of your palm.

He’s half-hard, his clothed bulge pleading for attention. But he pulls your hand away quickly, not letting himself get carried away at the feeling of your fingers grazing him through denim. 

Instead, he re-situates it against his chest so that you can feel his heartbeat where it hammers under skin, against flesh and bone. “This is all yours too,” he says, voice so low it reverberates in your skull. 

“All of it — all of me. Don’t gotta worry your pretty little head with anythin’ anyone else has to say about the matter. Got it?”

His words are spoken with so much conviction that you have no choice but to believe them, to let them stick in your brain like anchors in sand: deep and immovable.

Yours, yours, yours. 

And nobody else’s.

“Yeah,” you smile into the column of his neck, inhaling his scent: mostly him, but with notes of you. 

“Got it.”

It’s two weeks later when she makes a move on him: the woman with the perm. Joel is taken aback by her boldness, with you just a few feet away, digging your key into the lock of your mailbox. 

“You must work with your hands,” she purrs, grabbing one of his wrists and examining his calloused fingers with such little integrity, his mouth actually slips open at the unabashedness of it all. 

“Uh-”

“I’m Sheila,” she hums, raking her fingers through tight, blonde curls. “And you are?”

“Joel,” he grunts noncommittally. Wrenches his arm back. He doesn’t miss the way her eyebrows twitch in offense. 

But she’s insatiable, this woman. She bounces back like a rubber band, not-so-subtly pushing her breasts together, the zip of her sweatshirt slipping down an inch and her mouth curving into a salacious grin.

You just about stop dead in your tracks when you round the corner to the lobby, junk mail in hand, and see her, her body turned towards Joel’s, chest pushed out and hip popped. She has a bedazzled tote bag full of groceries slung over her shoulder, a head of leafy greens poking out the top.

“Hi neighbor!” she smiles mockingly at you, all lipstick-stained teeth, when you sidle up to Joel. “I was just telling your friend here what nice, strong arms he has.” She’s not looking at you, eyes locked firmly on Joel’s biceps, nearly drooling at the sight of him. 

Heat spools behind your ears, red-hot.

“Not her friend,” Joel corrects before you can. “‘M her boyfriend.”

“Oh,” she says. “Boyfriend.” Her lips wrap loosely around the word, like it’s some fanciful thing. “You’re too old to be someone’s boyfriend.” 

Joel takes a step away from her, closer to you, and splays a steadying hand across your back. “Man-friend, then.” 

You laugh, not because it’s funny, but because this entire conversation is fucking awkward. 

Sheila pays you no attention.

“Well,” she sighs, overtly staring at the exposed skin of Joel’s chest, where the top two buttons of his flannel are undone, “Joel, if you’re ever lookin’ for a good meal, I’m just next door.” She flits her eyes up to his and smirks. “Know a big man like you has gotta eat.”

Your vision blurs scarlet. 

Joel is equally as infuriated. The disrespect of this woman, to so openly flirt with him in front of you. His fists ball tightly at his sides. 

“Thanks, but no thanks,” he gruffs. “Anyway, nice to meet ya ma’am-“

“Sheila,” she reminds him. 

“Sheila,” he repeats, only to appease her. He turns to you, squeezing your waist affectionately. “We should probably get goin’, right sweetheart?”

You’re still fuming, barely able to register Joel’s voice next to you through the thick haze of pure fury clouding your mind, but you manage to nod, spit out a hurried yeah.

And with that, Joel is turning on his heels, pulling you with him toward the elevators. You don’t dare look back at her, but you can feel her eyes boring a hole in the back of your head. 

Her footfall fades into the mailroom and you breathe a minuscule sigh of relief. At least she’s out of your sight.

“Please just move in with me,” Joel begs when you’re finally behind closed metal doors, the inspection plaque situated above the buttons suddenly extremely interesting as you try to focus on not thinking about setting this woman’s apartment on fire.

You’ve talked about living together a few times. It’s just — you’ve never considered it so seriously until right now. 

“I can’t let them win,” you mutter, agitated. 

You hate how they’ve made you feel, like you’re some helpless animal tucked in the corner, hiding from them. Just waiting for the next ambush. 

With the passing of each floor, your anger simmers, bubbles into a silent rage in your stomach, one which threatens to boil over at the next underestimation of Joel’s devotion to you. You need to make it known, once and for all, that he’s yours. 

Words from your grandmother play on a loop in your head, ones she repeated to you often when you were a child: if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. 

And then you have a thought — a devious thought — maybe you don’t have to say anything to get your point across. Not to them, anyway.

Your mouth is on Joel the second you’re back inside the four walls of your own apartment, slotting against his pulse point and sucking a desperate bruise there.

He’s not expecting it — why would he be? You’ve just been seething the entire elevator ride up to your floor, the entire walk down the long, winding hallway to your unit. He’d practically been able to see the steam billowing from your ears. 

So the switch-up is more than a bit dizzying, to say the least.

“Whoa, darlin’,” he pants, his large hands draping over your shoulders. “What are you-”

“Joel.” Your voice is stern; it demands his attention. “Do you trust me?” 

Your hand trails down his body languidly, in a straight line to the waistband of his jeans. And fuck, of course he trusts you — more than anyone. But this is wrong, fucked up, for you to make him feel good when you’ve been made to feel so small these past few minutes. 

Still, his cock doesn’t get the memo, twitching in his jeans as you place another open-mouthed kiss on the underside of his jaw, your fingers beginning to fiddle with his belt buckle. 

You give him no choice with the way you’re touching him, the way you’re looking at him when you pull back, all pleading eyes and parted mouth, but to resign all protest. He’ll give you the world, and if right now you want to use his body to blow off some steam, who is he to complain about it?

“Yeah baby, of course,” he breathes. “What do you need?”

You smirk at him audaciously, tongue smoothing over your teeth. “Need you to be loud,” you purr. Your voice is so innocent in juxtaposition to the words you spew. It sends a chill down the column of his spine. “Let them know who makes you feel good.” 

He nearly cums in his pants untouched, grasps at the fabric of your shirt with clumsy hands and nods. “Fuck, okay.”

His belt falls to the floor with a clang.

He lets you take control, then. Lets you mark him with your tongue and your teeth, lets you back him to the door with deft fingers working his shirt buttons open before sinking to your knees in front of him, freeing his hardening cock from the confines of his jeans and boxers.

It’s already weeping for you when you pull it out, precum beading at the tip. He’s so big, growing heavier in your hand with each passing second, and you lose yourself for a moment, hypnotized by him.

“Always so eager to please me, aren’t you, pretty girl?” Joel’s voice pulls you back to earth, soft and adoring.

“Louder,” you remind him. Plant a kiss right over top of his leaking slit.

“Fuck,” he hisses through his teeth. One of his hands flies to the crown of your head, anchoring himself with fingers in your hair. “Dirty fucking girl.” 

His voice fills the entranceway, confident and filthy. 

“Mmm,” you hum approvingly.

“Yeah? You want me to tell ‘em? Tell ‘em you’re making my cock drool for you? That nobody — shit-” You enclose your lips around his tip, suckling on it as your fingers wrap around the base of his length and you begin to stroke him lazily. “-that nobody has ever made me feel this good?” 

Footsteps echo down the hallway and the sound makes you reflexively pause, your hand stiling on Joel’s cock. It’s followed by the jingling of metal, the click of a key in a lock, the opening and closing of a door — all close enough that you can pinpoint the source, can tell where exactly it’s coming from. 

Sheila is home. 

Perfect.

It’s probably worrying how excited it makes you, the prospect of her hearing, of her sitting alone in her apartment, at her empty dining table, and listening to Joel fall apart at your hands. Maybe they’ve driven you to and over the edge of sanity with their words, her most of all. Regardless, you can’t help the way it makes your cunt flutter around nothing. 

You lick a slow stripe up the underside of Joel’s cock, starting just above his balls and dragging the flat of your tongue up, up, up to his tip. His breath shudders, his grip on your hair tightening, and the subtle sting at the center of your scalp gives you another idea. 

“Do you wanna fuck my face, Joel?” 

“Do I wanna — fuck — you’re gonna kill me, angel.” 

“Go ahead,” you encourage, unhinging your jaw as wide as it can go, letting your tongue droop over your bottom lip. 

Saliva pools in your waiting mouth and Joel groans at the sight of you, so malleable for him, begging to be used. 

“You sure?” 

It’s not that he doesn’t think you can handle it. He knows you can. You’ve taken him down your throat more times than he can count. Always so fucking eager to please him, you are — just one of the many reasons he feels so goddamn lucky, so infuriated that anyone would think otherwise. 

But still, he can’t help but worry that he’ll hurt you. 

You nod, eyes locked on him, confirming beyond a shadow of a doubt that you want this. He nods back, beginning to feed his cock into your mouth, easing it in slowly and halting when his head hits the back of your throat, causing you to gag.

You don’t pull away, don’t show any indication of displeasure. In fact, you dig your fingers into the meat of his thighs, bearing down on him as you push forward. Mascara tears stain your cheeks as you choke on him, laser-focused on relaxing your throat so that you can accommodate more of his length. 

Joel pulls back, retreating entirely before pushing in again. He slowly increases his pace, your eyes hooded, so doelike and innocent, as his cockhead bruises your larynx. 

The sounds he’s pulling from your mouth are absurdly lewd: muffled gags and frantic inhales of breath. And then there’s him, moaning wildly, not sure if he’d be able to shut up even if he needed to be quiet. Your mouth is good, too fucking good and he’s going to — fuck, he’s going to cum if you don’t stop. 

He pulls out abruptly, a string of drool and precum tethering the tip of his cock to your swollen bottom lip. You’re panting, coughing, still bracing yourself against his legs when you fucking smile up at him. 

“Christ,” he says. “Fuckin’ angel, you are. Mouth feels like goddamn heaven.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. But I need to cum in that perfect little cunt,” he breathes, pulling a strangled moan from the back of your rawed throat. 

He helps you up, spins you around to face the door. You brace both hands on the wood, humming as he pulls your pants down to your knees. His breath is on the back of your neck, trailing up to the shell of your ear with one whisper just for you, because he can’t help it. 

“So fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?” 

You shiver, responding with a tilt of your head, inviting him in with a needy little mewl. He cradles your face in one of his large hands, the other rubbing over the curve of your ass as he kisses you passionately, tasting himself on your tongue.

The hand on your ass trails lower as he deepens the kiss, two fingers pressing against your clothed seam. You’ve all but soaked through the fabric, wet cotton molding to his knuckles as he caresses them along your pussy before pulling your panties down in one swift motion.

You whine into the kiss, desperate and dripping for him. “Please,” you breathe against his lips. “I’ll make you feel so good, I promise.”

“Know you will,” he coos, mouth parting from yours as he straightens out and lines himself up with your entrance. You arch your back, rocking onto the balls of your feet as he teases you with the tip.

His cock is so thick when it finally notches into you. It’s always so devastatingly thick, no matter how wet you are for him. The stretch stings, a jolt of warm pain coursing through your walls as he stills halfway in. 

“You okay?” he asks, one hand resting at the small of your back, the other on your hip, fingers gripping to you only tight enough to hold you in place.

“Yes, fuck — yes,” you whine. “Need you to fuck me, Joel.”

“I’m goin’ to baby, don’t worry,” 'he promises, pushing in another splitting inch. “Pussy’s so goddamn tight, ‘ts suckin’ me right in.”

It feels like hours pass with Joel’s cock motionless inside your aching cunt, his warm breath fanning across your back as he focuses on not cumming. You’re whimpering, begging under the weight of his body, to please just fucking move.

When he finally obliges you, pulling all the way out and then bottoming out in one deep thrust, it nearly punches the air out of your chest. You scrabble for purchase on the door, fingernails scraping against chipped paint. “F-uucckk,” you moan, eyes rolling back in your head as he sets a dizzying pace.

The sound of his balls slapping against the back of your thighs is enough to attract attention on its own, the loud smacksmacksmack going straight to your cunt. Joel growls behind you, driving into you even harder, the tip of his cock brushing against your g-spot. 

“Oh, shit,” you cry. Your pussy inadvertently squeezes him and he curses at your back, low and deep. 

“Not going to last if you keep doin’ that,” he warns. “Cunt is too fuckin’ good. Best I’ve ever — uuuhh — had.”

He’s not just saying it for show. It’s true. You know it is, too. He’s told you before, both under the influence of your pussy and not. Waited too many goddamn years to feel like this, he’d said once.

“It’s — fuck, it’s fine Joel,” you mutter. “I’m close too, just keep going, right there.”

A door across the hall creaks open. A pair of footsteps patter across tile. 

Do you hear that?  Yeah; what is that noise?

Joel laughs darkly behind you, snaps his hips up, forcing a guttural moan out of you. 

“Think they caught us, darlin’,” he says. “Caught you takin’ my cock like you’re fuckin’ made to.”

Oh my word!

Joel is unrelenting, pounding into you despite the voices right outside your apartment, and you fear for a moment that you’ve created a monster. One of his hands leaves its place on your waist, cracks down on the center of your asscheek with a slap, the flesh recoiling under his palm and you gasp. 

The feeling travels between your legs, straight to your neglected clit. It pulsates under the hood with every pass of Joel’s cock over your g-spot, and you feel yourself hurtling toward the edge dangerously fast. 

If these people don’t leave, they’re going to hear you cum. Do you want them to hear you cum? Yeah, you think, clit jumping again at the thought, I think I fucking do.

“Joel, fuck-”

“You gonna cum?” he goads. “Yeah, can feel you squeezin’ me — you’re gonna cum, aren’t ya?”

This is vulgar!  We should file a noise complaint. C’mon.

His hand snakes around your front then, finds your throbbing bud, and with a few passes of his calloused fingertips, you’re gone, vision whiting out and all noise around you muted. 

Joel keeps you upright between him and the door, his grip on you tightening as your muscles slacken. He follows closely behind, cumming inside you with a carnal noise from the back of his throat, rope after rope of his spend filling your cunt. 

He pulls out with a grunt, immediately collapsing on the floor. Without his support, you topple over too, falling onto his lap with a satiated giggle. 

A banging comes from the other side of the wall then, shaking your kitchen cabinets a few feet away, the clanging of glassware jolting you.

Keep it down next time! I don’t need to hear that!

And then you’re laughing like teenagers, Joel pulling you in for a sloppy kiss, all tongues and teeth. 

“Think they’re really gonna make a noise complaint?” Joel asks when you finally come up for air. 

“I dunno,” you smile. “Does your offer still stand — for me to move in with you?” 

“Always,” he vows, forehead resting against yours.

end notes: ty for reading! pls consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed <3