#like i think you are just closeminded honestly

[kuruk]

omg this website rewlly is so white why are so many people admitting that they see rap as this normie thing that tumblr freaks are too isolated from on account of how different and obscure we all are. like as if all of these people don't literally just talk about mcr and nine inch nails all day which is like basically on a similar level of popularity. rap is too "other" and is what "everyone else" and "those people" like because they automatically sweep black people into that view of what they think is normie cishet mental illness-free part of the world who couldn't possibly understand their crazyyy sense of humor and extreme dark and mysterious music taste as if it doesn't still play on the radio at the end of the day

[sufferu]

Bravo to you for choosing not to let Rem be forgiven so easily. Honestly I've never been a big fan of Rem as a character, sometimes her endless pandering and obsession with subaru just really annoys me instead, and I've never understood people looking at her doing all that and then saying “Wow that's so hot I'm so jealous of Subaru!”

As for the ones who want her deeds to be easily forgiven by everyone, my personal guess is that they all only care about her body and the unheathy way she forces herself to act like the perfect waifu just for Subaru's sake, but subconsciously they can't stand the shit she did either, so they secretly want their favorite waifu to be a perfect being without flaws. But to me, isn't it essential to love a character and accept their flaws as well? They did wrong things, but there's no doubt THEY did them anyway, and that is part of what makes them who they are. Another thing is that forgiveness has to be earned, we're not cruel, coldhearted, or closeminded for not forgiving someone who hurts us. So I too agree with that anon who thinks WHDAA cast need to to beat some sense into Subaru on way too forgiving and tolerating the people who have hurt/killed him.

But now that you've decided to do that, beware of those rabid Rem stans coming after you and I'm worried that their harassment goes overboard and affects your personal life

I will say — I believe that Rem and Subaru’s canon dynamic is one of the most intriguing and multifaceted dynamics in the entire series. Their parallels regarding their insecurities and family members, their mutually codependent tendencies, the way they run the risk of becoming each other’s perfect enablers, the genuine sense of love and affection that runs parallel to the unintentional toxicity fostered within their relationship — it’s all really interesting stuff. In fact, exploring their dynamic through the lens of outsiders (including amnesiac!Rem) finally getting to peer under the hood is one of the main reasons I wanted to write a react fic at all.

As for why people like her — honestly, I think it’s kinda easy to guess? She’s a very cutely designed anime girl, she’s incredibly well-voiced, her insecurities are genuinely relatable, she’s got a super awesome oni power-up transformation, her morning star lends itself to some of the best choreographed action scenes in the series (or at least Season 1), she appeals to the whole “submissive maid” aesthetic that she knows Subaru finds attractive (and that also appeals to the target demographic of Re:Zero specifically, let’s be real here) — and frankly, there are so many scenes in anime where characters we’re supposed to like do fucked up shit that it’s not difficult to just…gloss over the whole “tortured the mc for several hours” part of her character. It’s understandable, especially if you’re not an insane person who spends all their time hyperanalyzing the anime they’re a fan of like I am. I don’t think it’s really that far of a leap for her to develop such a massive following, she was basically designed to be as popular an anime waifu as physically possible.

But then, that clash can become…a little uncomfortable if you’re writing a story where “Rem tortures Subaru” is a major plotpoint, and if you don’t want to reevaluate their entire relationship, it makes sense to find a way to just — get the characters to move along, much like a lot of the irl audience does.

But I really like toxic characters and angst and complicated relationships and all that fun stuff, so that’s what I’m gonna focus on. —Also Rem is WORSE in the LN. Girl starts fantasizing about whisking Subaru away while he’s practically comatose from shock (second Arc 3 loop) and then also makes a comment like “even if he had tried to assault her in her sleep, she knew she never would have resisted” like GIRL??? The idea of not tapping that insane well of potential drama is ludicrous to me lmaoo— especially because I really don’t care about maintaining the status quo ;)

(Also frankly, anyone who would start seriously harassing me over whether or not I share their opinion about a fucking anime girl is too pathetic for me to care about. I honestly don’t think I’ll get that big of a response — especially not on Tumblr “Gay Website” Dot Com — but even if I do…I don’t care, lmao.)

[genderqueerdykes]

I don't want to come off as entitled by asking this, but I see you dress more 'feminine' and still ID as butch. I was wondering what the identity means to you as someone who doesn't look like how a butch "should" look? What is the connection there? I hope this doesn't come off as rude, I'm just trying to keep myself from being closeminded in any way and am interested in experiences of others.

i don't really see this as rude! i get a lot of asks where people say both "butches should be able to wear dresses and skirts" and "butches can only dress and look certain ways". there seems to be a lot of contention and gatekeeping over what a butch person should look like, not saying this is what you are doing- i see it constantly in the wild

it's okay to ask these kinds of things because i think a lot of people are confused about the origins of the term butch. butch just means queer masculinity- a queer masculine person can look, act, and dress like anything. there is no set dress code or look for a butch person. i have a phrase which i repeat in these scenarios: the butch is in the person, not the presentation. i see a lot of butches ache and long to wear dresses and other "femme" clothing all the time

i have a complex relationship with both femininity and masculinity due to being intersex. also, i have been living with being called a butch dyke derogatorily my entire life- it's something that's highly close to me. some may postulate that the term "bear" would fit me better, and i have used it in the past, but i'm not sure that one's quite right either. i honestly don't really know if i fit into the femme-butch binary.

due to having DID, some days i feel butch, and other days i feel femme. i am not an unshakeable person, and i have been wondering if the term femme would suit me better these days, given the direction i've pivoted in on the whole. it's a tough thing- queer masculinity to me involves being feminine. it seems confusing, but queer masculinity does not always have to be super macho. a masculine person can display queer masculinity by being feminine, too. the way someone dresses shouldn't have an impact on how they feel on the inside

it's an interesting thing to think about for sure! you caught me right at a time where i have been questioning this, myself. this exact question dawned on me just a few days ago. i was a lot more butch in the past, but i've gravitated toward a more femme experience in recent years. i don't know if i'll ever truly abandon the term butch. it's something i've been getting called my entire life. and i don't think dressing in a feminine way makes someone not butch, but i will say this is something i have been questioning lately!

the thing is, with queer identities, questioning and figuring out what really applies to you takes time. you may find a term and go "oh that's me!" right away, only to discover later on down the road that may not be correct. just because i was hyper masculine in the past doesn't mean i can't be hyper feminine now, you know? things change and shift. maybe at one point I had more butch alters than i do now- change is inevitable in a plural person, and it's hard for us to quantify how many of us are butch vs. how many of us are femme

considering i was already questioning this, this has given me more to think about, for sure. i think it's important to ask these kinds of questions because it may jar you into considering things you haven't before. while butches can present any way they want to, i have been feeling way more femme lately. perhaps i'm a butch who dresses femme, or maybe i've grown in ways where i've discovered that identity doesn't suit me as well as i thought it did. maybe things just changed. so thank you, i'm going to continue considering if that's the direction i'm more headed in lately. :)

[butchwheels]

we, lesbians, are unable to be seduced by men, and therefore we break the gross sexy fantasy men have in their head

in scenarios where they even allow us to be with another woman without too many consequences, of course. if we break it, then it suddenly means we're all dirty ugly nasty dykes who deserve disgust and fear, just girls trying hard to be a man and masculinizing their beautiful bodies, making them unattractive and therefore useless. what's a woman unattractive to men?? she's nothing. she's a ghost. just look at how old women are treated

lesbians, at the end of the day, are wolves in sheep's clothing when surrounded by other women. but we're not bad, we're not evil, we're just feeling the way men are about women, except without the cloud of misogyny. we're not actually wolves (men), we're more like coyotes; we're not men but we dress and act the way that men typically do, we're a threat to male society but also a weak disgusting thing needing to be rehabilitated into liking men. i "steal" their fashion and habits and body hair and masculinity and confidence. i make them feel irked and self-conscious. but honestly, they're mostly upset because we do it all better and our lives don't involve men at all. lesbianism is the single most threatening thing to men. complete disinterest in men. butchness. not feeling attraction to men so not falling for their bullshit bc attraction tends to make you more vulnerable to male manipulation, and lesbians just aren't vulnerable to men's seduction attempts so they can't trick us that way which makes the men very very upset uwu :'( we're such meanies!! our sexuality is oppressive really, it's closeminded, it's rude!!

you know the way that only men can call out other men? dykes calling out men breaks their fucking minds. because they see masculinity and attraction to women as power and strength (bc it involves "subduing a female" and proving their manhood or whatever), and when women steal it, men aren't typically as attracted to them, completely confusing them as though being a weird looking "man." they fucking stare at you like a baby at a dog. in their dumb heads they think, am i supposed to be misogynistic to her? but my upbringing tells me to submit bc she's confidently masculine, and masculinity is power??? they don't know what to do, usually defaulting to becoming aggressive or playing victim and whining on 4chan. often both. lesbians break the entire patriarchal system apart. we are radical as fuck. us existing, women who are not attracted to men and not wanting to be attractive for men, threatens everything the world has revolved on for centuries... namely male power. men fear us (and women want us, oh no!!). and men dating men ALSO threatens the patriarchy, bc men are supposed to be busy dominating women and furthering their bloodline and other bs. gay people are so powerful. gay women are so powerful. we need to embrace our power!!!!! 🏳️‍🌈

[ye-local-simp]

Heyy i would like a BSD matchup if you still do those. I'm a bi dude so you can match me with any gender.

Basic stats: i'm 21, entp 7w8, a uni student (i study finance but thats against my will lol i acc have no idea what i wanna do in life).

My hobbies are honestly kinda ever-changing and my love for them fluctuates. Nth really been stuck with me but i like the finer things in life. I love art in all of its forms tho. I paint sometimes (either on canvas or lil statues i buy that are usually sold for kids to paint) and i love going to museums, exhibitions and sometimes dabble in photography when im particularly excited about a concept. I am a board game type person (never dabbled in video games). Anything from cards to chess to Clue and whatnot. Love it all. Also like to walk for a fuck ton of hours. I am the perfect travel buddy bc i will walk around for 10 hours non-stop and still have a grin on my face when looking at exciting new stuff. Weird obsession with airport atmosphere. Love being awake and outside at ungodly hours even tho it is against my will.

Things i dislike: small talk. Pls i cant stand it. I feel awkward and i wanna talk more. I hate closeminded ppl. Never understood how one can be so content with staying the same and never craving change or broadening their horizons. Routine, strict social norms and roles. Fuck all that :) also hate ppl who make a fuss about how others dress. The world would be a better place if we could dress like anime characters lol

Appearance (idk if it matters but maybe it helps you visualize me better and see what character would look good next to me): 6 ft, pitch black hair (overgrown 2-block hairstyle) and i got p pale skin with thick brows. Always look angry lol everyone thinks i am mad at them (even strangers ask if i am having a bad day lmao). My wardrobe is just black clothes of diff silhouettes but i keep it baggy and comfy :) feel super inspired by yohji yamamoto and rick owens but i legit cant afford that lol

Have a good day and sorry in case you dont do matchups just delete this :)

You are matched with...

Dazai!!!

-He likes to play board games with you instead of work, at work.

-He likes your paintings and photography projects.

-He doesn't care about anything, he just wants life to be fun and enjoyable.

-He also hates social norms so he wants to not follow norms at all.

[roanniom]

The Night That Follows

Poe Dameron x Reader

Word Count: 8,000~ 

Summary: While celebrating a successful mission, you and Poe accidently ingest a mysterious beverage that makes it hard to resist one another, helping you forget the stress that weighs you down and the friendship that you’ve been holding between you two as a shield. 

Note: This is my first ever non-ADCU fic and it is dedicated to the ever lovely and supportive @paper-n-ashes who urged me to get out of my comfort zone and cheered me on.  

Warnings: NSFW, dirty talk, alcohol consumption, sex pollen, drugged drink (it’s drugged with the sex pollen by a 3rd party and not with malicious intent but it still might be triggering), masturbation (f/m), PIV sex, unprotected sex, war-related angst 

When people talk about war, they often discuss the paralyzing fear, the numbing depression. Hopelessness that spreads through your veins like cold water as you face immeasurable odds and stare death in the face day after day. And you can attest to these feelings. You experience them with each dawn that breaks, muddy in the sky regardless of the atmosphere shrouding whatever planet you find yourself waking on each morning. Your life is transient, full of ships and bases and camps. The constants are the clothes on your back, the friends in your squadron (those who survive), and the x-wing you hop in each time danger calls.

The other constant is the part of war that people do not discuss. The rush of adrenaline every time you make it out of a tough scrape. Adrenaline that burns your veins, evaporating the icy hopelessness that had flooded you up until the minute your boots hit turf and your jellied knees catch up to the reality that you are still very much alive. The euphoria that crackles in your brain when you spy your best mate zooming down from above, finally landing and throwing themselves into your arms in the hug you never thought you’d experience again after their coms had gone down in a fire fight. The absolute debauchery of a night of celebration after such a fire fight. Because nobody needs to live quite as much as those who may die.

Which is how you find yourself here, on this non-descript jungle planet, the name of which you didn’t catch during your descent because honestly there have been so many jungle planets and they have all become little more than coordinates on a screen to you at this point. You and your squad have been set up with a mini-festival by the resistance-sympathizing locals as a thank you for your recent decimation of their First Order oppressors. The operation had been pretty seamless, thanks in no small part to the excellent teamwork between you and a one Poe Dameron.

Your flying today had rivaled some of his best, which is certainly saying something since Poe prides himself on being the best pilot in the resistance. You certainly gave him a run for his money, outflying TIE fighters and swiveling shuttle cannons in a perfectly choreographed tandem maneuver wherein the two of you manipulated your assailants to ultimately destroy themselves.

As you knock back a burning shot of the local alcoholic beverage, the liquid tingling and warming you all the way down, you search the triumphant crowd for the cocky pilot who had helped you set the stage for this celebration. You wouldn’t dwell on the earlier events of the day much more tonight. Wouldn’t think much of the comrades you’d lost in the struggle. That was an ache that would throb back to life tomorrow. Tonight, the priority is living.

It is then that you lock eyes with Poe Dameron through the throngs of semi-drunken revelers. His handsome face splits into a wide, cocky grin, so you adopt an exasperated smirk in response as he pushes his way towards you. Such is the game you play. A dance, if you will. Poe plays the role of the self-assured, overly confident golden boy while you, his long suffering partner, humble him with your good-natured criticism and ever rolling eyes.

“Alright there, Sweets?” Poe practically drawls as he reaches you, the nickname both a term of endearment and a teasing reference to the sweet tooth that keeps you hoarding candies of all kinds in your bunk, much to Poe’s own benefit. You beam up at him and upend your little glass to demonstrate its emptiness.

“On my way there, Fly Boy.”

“Looks like you’re falling behind, rookie. Like you did on that triple barrel twist today.”

You throw a punch that lands a little too lightly on his shoulder to produce the grunt and showy flail that he graces you with.

“First of all, you’re not allowed to call me rookie anymore. Your dumb ass might need to be constantly reassured that you’re ‘best pilot in the resistance,’ but by now I am, at worst, second best.” Your gut warms and you’re not sure if it’s the drink or Poe’s deep, full-bodied laugh in response. “And second of all, we don’t talk about the day if we make it to the night.”

Poe almost seems to sober at your words, a phrase of his tossed back at him. The smile remains, though, and he tosses an arm around you before dragging you over to the table that’s been set up with refreshments.

“Right you are, Sweets,” Poe agrees quietly. Louder now and injecting you two into the crowd surrounding the cluster of bottles, he continues, “as for you being second best pilot, I’d rather let the squad decide before you go getting a head too big to fit in your helmet.”

This receives a laugh from the crowd as well as another smattering of slaps thrown towards Poe’s chest.

“Dameron, we all know you already have your own helmet custom made so you can stuff that massive ego in there,” your friend Myrna.

“And those curls,” you add, reaching up and ruffling your hand through his hair in that way that always makes his nose scrunch up in mock anger.

“If you must know, there’s something else they also have to custom make me…” Poe says, grabbing your wrist and forcing your hand to slide down his chest towards the bottom of his flight suit zipper and wiggling his eyebrows. You shriek and yank your hand away.

“In your dreams, Dameron.” Poe leans down toward you so that his face is close enough for you to feel his breath fan across your cheeks.

“Or perhaps in yours?��

Suddenly a small, wrinkled face appears between you. It’s an elderly female member of the local alien race and she’s beaming up at you, holding two steaming mugs and smiling around a garbled statement in a language you don’t recognize.

“Oh I’m sorry, I’m not sure I…” you interrupt her, glancing awkwardly between her massive eyes and Poe’s confused ones.

“I might be able to translate!” Myrna cries out, stumbling forward with a newly refilled glass in her hand.

“You sure that’s not just the liquor talking?” Poe asks with a chuckle. Myrna waves him off and kneels unsteadily to listen to the old woman. More garbled speech issues forward as the woman gestures between you and Poe with her mugs. Myrna nods several times and gives little hums of agreement and affirmation. You and Poe trade glances of amusement during the interaction, but you have to look away when the upturned corner of Poe’s mouth begins to distract you.

“Alright alright,” Myrna pipes up. You turn back in time to see Myrna standing back up to her full height, now holding the two mugs, while the woman waddles back into the crowd.

“What’s the deal?” Poe asks, slinging his arm back around your shoulders. You resist the knee jerk actions that come to mind, both to slap his touch away and to lean into it, standing rigid instead.

“She said these are for you,” Myrna says, pushing the steaming mugs into your hands and Poe’s.

“Did she say why?” You peer at the milky, opalescent contents curiously. Myrna has already moved on, however, turning back to the pilot she’d been hanging on before you and Poe had approached. You look to Poe but he shrugs.

“I don’t know, something about you guys deserving it.” Myrna waves her hand dismissively, obviously ready to get back to her own evening. You look up at Poe, unsure, but he’s nodding and smiling.

“Hear that, Sweets? Seems like word travels fast that we’re the top two pilots,” Poe says cheekily, clinking his mug to yours before throwing back his head and downing its contents in one gulp. Your insides ignite at his acknowledgment, as well as the bob of his adam’s apple, but your eyes still flit warily to your beverage.

“We don’t even know what it is and you’re drinking it?”

“Honey, I’m pretty sure that liquor we were taking shots of earlier was actually jet fuel, I don’t think we need to be too worried about this.” Poe smacks his lips and runs his finger around the inside of the mug. “And besides, it’s really kriffing good.”

Watching the way his cheeks hollow out as he sucks the last dregs of his drink from his finger makes a heat boil in the pit of the stomach. You decide you actually are quite thirsty, and since your curiosity is stronger than your apprehension, you knock the liquid back yourself.

“Atta girl!” Poe cheers you on, nudging you. The drink is sweet and thick on your tongue like a melted version of the ice cream you’d tasted once, many years ago. You can still remember the creamy texture, very much worth the credits paid to the traveling vendor who’d brought it to your village during the hottest summer of your childhood. As you swallow this liquid down, however, its cold temperature changes into a burn, similar to alcohol, though smoother than any liquor you’d ever had.

“Good, right?” Poe asks, eyebrows raised. You nod and lick your lips, sure that you’re imagining things when Poe’s eyes flicker down to your darting tongue.

“That was actually pretty good,” you concede with a grin.

“So what have we learned tonight?” Poe prompts, grabbing your mug from your hands and placing it next to his on a nearby table. You shake your head.

“Your cockiness extends to believing locals on a miniscule planet find you special?”

“The correct answer was ‘always give things a chance,’ Sweets, but you can continue being closeminded if you want,” Poe responds with a chuckle. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and makes to walk away.

“Fine!” You reach out and grab his arm before he can leave. When he rounds back on you with a wide smile you roll your eyes and refuse eye contact. “And just so you know, I’m a lot more open minded than you think, Dameron.”

“Is that so, rookie?” You bristle but as the glee raises in his eyes at your reaction you do your best to tamp it down.

“I’m…flexible,” you say, your grin begrudging. A hubbub breaks out beyond you in the crowd as the makeshift band that had assembled to play party music transitions to a particularly festive song, causing both you and Poe to watch as people begin forming an impromptu dance floor. When Poe turns back at you and raises his eyebrows, expectant, you throw up your hands defensively.

“No. Don’t look at me like that, Fly Boy,” you’re quick to say, but Poe’s even quicker, having already grabbed you by the hand and pulled you to him. Your body collides with his and his other hand finds the dip of your waist.

“Oh I’m sorry, what was that I just heard someone say about being open minded?” Poe asks. In a sudden fluid motion he dips you, bending you over so that your back is parallel to the ground and his face hovers over yours. “Being flexible?”

You let him pull you back up and steady yourself with a hand on his chest to catch your balance, dizzy now, most likely from the suddenness of the motion. You’re about to toss back a witty retort, possibly something that will knock him down a few pegs, but then you catch the glint in his eye and a smile spreads across your lips unbidden.

“You get one dance, Dameron.”

~*~

One dance turned into many, as it turns out. The band, upon realizing their audience’s appetite for raucous music, had begun a steady rotation of upbeat tunes. The dance floor had expanded, spilling out of its original confines in the center of the town square and into the concession areas on the perimeter. Resistance members danced and drank, their bodies jumping and moving to the beat in one chaotic mass of excess energy and euphoria. Bodies writhe against one another in all directions as people seek out friction that can confirm to them that they did indeed survive the day’s trials.

You’re experiencing friction of your own in your little portion of the dance floor. Where things had started out innocently – energetic bouncing to the beat and moving in unison – the tone had long changed. At this point Poe is behind you, arms slung dangerously low on your hips to hold you against him, hands pressed right above your pelvis. The feeling of his chest pressing against your back, his hips bracketing your ass – you’ve lost yourself in the sensations. The rhythm of the music shakes through your muscles but instead of tense and tired, they’re loose and buzzing.

Though truth be told, they aren’t the only thing buzzing. The proximity of Poe’s hands to your lower body feels charged like a magnet. Without thinking you press your hands over the backs of his, encouraging pressure on your lower abdomen. You swear you hear Poe growl behind you has his hands pull you further to him, but it could also be the roar of the crowd. Your hips move in sync, your ass grinding against him in time with the music. Escapism in its purest form is what you’re experiencing in Poe’s arms, held against Poe’s body, matching Poe’s motions. It’s heady and distracting and everything you could ask for to make living feel like living, especially in the aftermath of a day centered on death. You’re content to let this moment last as long as the universe allows.

That is until you realize that the increasing beat you’d thought was a shift in the music is actually the rapid crescendo of your own heartbeat.

Swallowing you find your throat is thick, saliva pooling in your mouth inexplicably. You take a deep breath and allow your mind to reel. How long had you been feeling like this? Why hadn’t you noticed these feelings coming on?

One of the large hands at your hip begins sliding up along the plane of your side and you get your answer. The weight of his touch lights your skin on fire as it drags up and across your collar bone. Your breath feels ragged, rattling around in lungs that can’t seem to take in oxygen no matter how high your chest rises and falls. Poe’s hand lingers on your throat for a second so you swallow again, with even less luck than before. His hand reaches up to grip your jaw which he uses to turn your head back toward him.

Oh.

Poe continues to move behind you, his motions controlling you both on the floor, but his face is strained. Sweat dots his temples, gleaming in his curls, and his teeth seem gritted, making his jaw set at a striking angle. His eyes pin you down, however, and they keep your attention as you gaze back, wide-eyed.

“You okay, rookie?” Poe’s voice is deeper than normal, huskier. The way it reverberates through your body makes a rumbling bubble up deep inside your chest. The beginnings of a moan, perhaps? You’re quick to gasp a response before such a sound has a chance to make its way into the air between you.

“I’m…feeling quite strange.”

The hand still at your waist tightens its grip while the other rejoins on the opposite side. You have to gasp again to keep from moaning. Suddenly you’re being maneuvered forward, Poe’s guidance weaving you through the crowd with ease despite the congested revelry.

Neither of you see the way Myrna is watching you both with a knowing smirk from her place draped around her own handsome pilot beau. Or the way the little old woman who’d gifted you the beverage hovers on the outskirts of the dance floor, a proud look on her wrinkled face as she eyes your retreating figures.

~*~

You’re not really able to follow where Poe is directing you, mainly because of how the imprint of his hands on your body seems to be searing into your skin through your flight suit. While your accelerated heart rate was the thing you had been most worried about, now you are equally worried about the dull ache that has seated itself in the pit of your stomach. You bite down hard on your lip to keep the moan from spilling out, the one you’ve been suppressing since the moment you became conscious to your current discomfort.

When Poe’s stride finally slows to a stop only then are you able to take in your surroundings. Blinking, you’re surprised to find that you’re now outside of the town, far from the lights and bustle of the party, walking into the silent clearing that contains the squadron’s parked aircrafts.

“Why are we all the way out here?” you ask, unsettled by how deep your voice sounds in the darkness.

“Needed to get away from the crowd.” You’re even more unsettled by how breathless Poe’s voice is as he says his first words since the dance floor. So unsettled that you turn in his arms so you can finally take in his disheveled appearance fully.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know, it’s the weirdest thing. One minute everything was fine and the next…”

“You can’t catch your breath,” you finish for him and he nods gravely. Both of your chests are practically heaving, pressing into each other with each exhale. When you become aware of this, it also brings awareness of the way his chest pressed up against yours is also adding pressure to your nipples. Since when were your nipples hard? The night is balmy, a cool breeze barely able to disturb the moist warmth that settles in the jungle terrain. You feel sweat begin to collect on the back of your neck and your hairline, much like the sweat causing Poe to shine a bit in the moonlight. And yet your nipples are hard and a shudder runs through your body, nerve endings clearly ten steps ahead of you, taking in some experience to which you’d yet to catch up.

“Wait a minute, look at me,” Poe suddenly orders, his fingers wrapping around your chin to lift your face toward his. You freeze as he stares down at you, eyes widening at whatever he sees.

“What is it?” you ask, voice urgent, almost frightened.

“Your pupils are wide as planets,” he mutters, distracted fingers drawing up the side of your jaw to press to the pulse point at your throat. “Your heartbeat is out of control.”

“I haven’t been able to calm down,” you say, nodding but getting more worried by the second. “Why can’t I calm down? Are you feeling the same way?”

Poe’s mouth presses into a hard line and he turns away abruptly, head tilting down.

“Oh fuck.”

“What?” You try to pull him back toward you but he doesn’t budge.

“I think…we’ve been drugged.”

Your blood runs cold and a hand flies to cover your mouth. You’d known tonight was too good to be true. Your mind races, making connections out of thin air, trying to place when and where you could have possibly come in close enough proximity to First Order agents to be compromised.

“But what – how – what can we do? What is it? Is it deadly?” You’re cut off by a sound issuing from Poe’s now curved body. You wonder at first if it’s a sob, which makes sense because you’re about ready to cry yourself. But then you realize it’s a chuckle.

“I wouldn’t say deadly. Just exceedingly inconvenient.”

“So you know what it is then?” you prompt, tugging at his shoulder some more to try and see his face. “Tell me!”

“Well for starters I’m pretty sure it was that drink the old woman gave us.”

Fuck.

Of course. What was the one suspicious thing you’d ingested all day? The fact that you hadn’t thought about it sooner makes you want to kick yourself, but you press on instead, anxious to have the matter dealt with.

“What does it do?” You hate the tremor that colors your voice. At that Poe finally turns around and you take him in all at once, trying to assess what he could have been hiding. His tall, wide-legged stance makes it easy to notice after a few seconds. As your gaze moves lower on his body you finally see the massive tent forming below the zipper line of his flight suit.

Without even being able to mentally process what you’re looking at your body responds immediately. A rush of warmth and wetness floods the apex of your thighs and the moan that you’d so far been able to hold in finally makes it way out of your throat. Poe’s eyes, which had recently gone hooded, widen in response to the lewd sound. You clap a hand over your mouth and snap your eyes back up to his face, away from the rigid shape that had made the muscles inside you contract wantonly around nothing.

“It’s made from a plant that’s meant to accelerate sex drive,” Poe says matter-of-factly.

You almost don’t hear him because your eyes have already slid back down his body, feasting on the sight of his impressive bulge. You’d heard stories of Poe’s sexual prowess, many from the man’s own loud mouth. You knew he’d satisfied many members of the Resistance, male and female alike. But you had never truly let yourself consider what he’d be like. What he’d look like. What he’d feel like…

“Why would she possibly give that to us of all people?” You feel like you’re going to cry. The feelings coursing through your body are overwhelming.

“Maybe she went around spiking many people at the party. Maybe she just thought you and I would look hot together? You can’t blame her for that one.” Poe winks at you and it diffuses some of your angst. You let out a tense laugh and shake your head.

“How do we make it stop?” you force yourself to ask, just as you force yourself yet again to look back up in his eyes. Poe averts his own, a sheepish look overtaking his face. When he doesn’t answer you step forward and grab his arm in alarm, trying not to consider the way his bicep bulges under his sleeve. “Poe?!”

“We have to…take care of it.”

You’re launching yourself away from him before he can finish the sentence. You probably knew the answer before you’d even asked the question, but his words still sent electricity through your spine.

“We can’t. That’s…that’s crazy – you’re crazy, Dameron!”

“Hey, you think I like this? Standing here like an idiot with my dick so hard I can barely see straight?”

The sexual nature of his words, spoken so plainly and without euphemism for the first time, makes a new wave of wetness pool between your legs against your will.

“Don’t….talk about it,” you say through gritted teeth, closing your eyes in an attempt to center yourself.

“What? Don’t talk about my aching cock?” he asks, almost as a challenge. He’s frustrated now, egged on by your attitude.

“Stop it.”

“Are you about to tell me you aren’t wet right now?”

You turn your back on him in a childish and fruitless attempt at blocking out his words. When you don’t reply you hear his footsteps as he approaches from behind.

“If we’re both having the same reaction, and I’m certain we are, then I’d imagine you’re practically dripping right now.”

His words would have made your eyes cross if you didn’t have them shut so tightly. A hand molds around your hip while the other grasps at the side of your neck, both working in tandem to pull your back flush against his front. The impact, though gentle, knocks the wind out of you. Or whatever wind had been in you in the first place. His lips are at your ear then and you melt into his touch.

“If we take care of this together we’ll go back to normal.”

“…back to normal?” you ask, simply repeating and not really aware of your words.

“Exactly.”

“I…I don’t know.” Poe’s hardened length is pressing into your ass now, insistent and firm behind you. The hand on your hip migrates lower to pull you against him. A swivel of his hips causes your own to follow the momentum, gyrating in their own right.

“We can be quick,” Poe coos, his voice vibrating over your earlobe where his lips are making contact with your skin. Another low chuckle sounds. “Or I can take my time if you want. Either way, I can promise you’ll enjoy it.”

There’s your cocky Fly Boy.

You wrench yourself from his grasp and take a few steadying steps away before gaining the wherewithal to turn back and face him once more. He looks supremely disappointed, arms still outstretched in the place where you had just been.

“Does this really have to be a…team effort?” you ask, face screwed up with discomfort. Poe runs a hand through his hair and casts a distracted glance about your surroundings.

“I mean I guess theoretically one could take care of themselves – ”

“Great!” you cut him off and stalk around to the other side of his x-wing. Of course he’d brought you to his ship. You look around for your own but when you can’t find it you plop yourself down on the ground.

“Are you kriffing serious?” comes Poe’s angry voice behind you as he stomps over. “We could bang this out and feel better but you’re just going to – ”

“Oh ‘bang’ this out? Real nice, Dameron.”

“You know what I mean.” You can practically hear his eye roll.

“The other side,” you say simply, lowering the zipper on your flight suit. When you don’t hear the sound of his retreating footsteps, however, you pause. “Stay on the other side of the ship, Dameron.”

He grumbles but does as you say. When you finally hear the sound of him throwing himself to the ground, you lift the tab of your zipper again. However, the loud and sudden ziiiip indicating that he’s yanked open his own garment seems ring out then in the clearing and you’re inundated with mental images of what that must look like. Poe sprawled on the ground with his flight suit open and askew. You imagine the expanse of his chest, the way the muscle would ripple in the shadows of the jungle. You’d seen him without a shirt before, the arms of his flight suit tied at his waist as he reclined beneath his x-wing making repairs. Covered in sweat and grease. The memory and the subsequent lurid thoughts have you dipping your hand down into the small opening you’ve made in your clothes, not fully comfortable enough to expose yourself entirely to the elements. When you reach the place between your thighs you have to swallow the gasp that bursts forth at the realization that Poe had been right. You’re not just wet. You’re dripping.

“Fuck.”

You think you say it quietly but a chuckle from the other side of the ship proves otherwise.

“Need any help over there?”

You ignore him and try to focus in on your own body, closing your eyes. You allow a hand to ghost over your breast as you ease a finger through your folds. You feel the insistent thrumming of your pulse even down below and your breath is shallow in your chest. The images dancing behind your eyelids show you flashes, glimpses of things you try to banish from your mind. The angle of Poe’s jaw. His faint, ever present stubble. The arch of his eyebrow. The curve of his smirk. His ass in those pants.

“Sweets…”

Poe’s voice interrupts a whimper you hadn’t even realized you were releasing.

“Poe.” Your voice is small and it cracks around his name. Your muscles are contracting but nothing you do eases the sensation. It just continues building within you. “It hurts.”

“Just come over here. I don’t even have to touch you. Just let me help you through it.”

You ponder the darkness before you, the way it envelops the other aircrafts in this makeshift parking zone. You hear a shick shick shick behind you and your cunt aches. Completely in response to the siren call of Poe Dameron’s building pleasure. You’re immediately intensely jealous. Jealous of the way that, you assumed, he was having more luck getting himself off than you were, despite the fingers inside you right now. Jealous of the way his voice didn’t crack when he beckoned you over.

But most of all jealous of the fact that he’s the one currently touching his hard cock. Not you.

You will yourself to stand up, pulling your hand out of your flight suit but not bothering to zip it back up. On jelly legs you make your way to the other side of the ship. The far side, facing away from the town square and the distant glow of the party you’ve now forgotten.

As you round the edge of the x-wing you bite your lip at the sight before you. Poe is indeed sprawled out with his suit zipped all the way down. His thick member protrudes from the bottom of the opening, a fist moving up and down rapidly, pulling from root to flushed tip in skilled motions. However the eyes that gaze up at you from under his unruly mop of curly hair are not doused with pleasure and satisfaction as you’d imagined. Instead he looks pained, almost agonized. At the sight of you he sits up a bit and does his best to give you a reassuring smile though it comes out as more of a grimace.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful, rookie.”

“That’s the drink talking,” you dismiss, despite the way your stomach swoops as you move to settle yourself down next to him, careful not to make contact. “And you know I hate you calling me rookie.”

“I’ll call you anything you want, baby, as long as you start touching yourself.”

Your cunt pulses at his words so suddenly that you almost double over. Your breathing, already ragged, speeds up as you feel the overwhelming urge to have something deep inside you. Dropping your hand into the opening in your suit you halt, however, watching Poe warily in your peripheral vision. He catches you looking and reluctantly stills the hand moving on member.

“Would sitting back to back help?” he sighs. You nod, scrambling over so that your back is to his.

This is better. This is much better, you think as you dip your hand back between your legs and into the waiting slick. You drag a finger in tight circles over your clit and do your best to calm the racing thoughts that flit back to images of Poe’s body.

The body that is currently pressed to yours, though not at all in the manner you would prefer.

Poe grunts then, making you lose your rhythm.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve wanted you, you know.”

You cut your answering gasp off at the source, not daring to make a sound lest it interrupt this information that you desperately needed to here. He interprets your silence correctly and continues.

“I’ve thought about you. When I’m in the cockpit on my way to some distant planet. When not even hyper speed can get me there quick enough before thoughts of you creep in.” He almost sounds mad, but you get it. The emotions coursing through your body along with the hormones are driving you wild and you don’t know how to feel.

“What…what are the thoughts about?” you can’t help but ask.

“I’d love to say it’s your smile or your brains or something sweet like that. And I do think about those things too, don’t get me wrong,” he says on a hoarse chuckle. “But it’s mainly your body.”

You slip a third finger inside your cunt as he says this, his words and the feeling mixing to cause you to let out an unchecked moan. You feel Poe’s body shudder against you.

“Shit Sweets you’re killing me.” You feel him tense as his hand begins moving faster. “I think about how you look poured into that flight suit. The way your tits and ass jiggle when you hop into your x-wing – fuck.” Another shudder wracks through his body and you can’t take it anymore. The way you’re touching yourself isn’t the way you usually do it. Not in those rare moments where you’ve got the sleeping quarters to yourself and you’re able to get yourself off in your bunk to images of a chiseled jawline, a clothed bulge, rippling muscles, soft, curly hair…

You abruptly pitch yourself forward to balance yourself on your knees and one hand while the remaining hand redoubles its efforts between your legs. The shift in position ends your physical contact with Poe and he swivels to see.

“What are you – ”

“Don’t turn around,” you gasp out. Your new angle works in your favor as your swollen clit becomes more sensitive, pulled down by gravity so that every swipe of your finger becomes more potent. “But for the love of gods, don’t stop talking.”

Poe is taken aback by your sudden forwardness, but he doesn’t let it faze him for long. Instead you hear his renewed efforts at jerking off as the sound of skin swiping across skin, made smoother by spit and precum, gets louder behind you.

“What do you want me to talk about? How much I wish it was your tight little pussy I was fucking instead of my fist?”

The whimper you release at that statement is unlike any sound you’ve ever made and it only spurs Poe on.

“And I just know you’re tight. I know it. And wet too, just like I guessed you were. I can hear it, baby,” he practically growls and you become intensely away of the slick, creamy sounds coming from the rapid in and out, in and out rhythm of your fingers delving into your cunt. “You’re dripping, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” You close your eyes and hear his words and wish the fingers inside you were harder, thicker, him.

“You wish it was my cock inside you, I know you do. You don’t want to admit it but you wish I was pounding into you, making you feel good. Making the ache go away.”

Your answering whine confirms his beliefs and he lets out a triumphant grunt.

“Fuck, baby. I want it, too. Bury myself deep inside of you and fuck you till that drink wears off and you’re still screaming for me, that’s how good it would be.”

“Oh gods.”

“Tell me who you’re wet for.”

“Y-you.” It comes out small. You’re shocked that you even say it, especially with how much you’ve been fighting all of this. You want it. You want it in your bones and in your blood and in your tight, spasming cunt. But you also want Poe’s friendship. Want him to tousle your hair on the way to the hanger. Want him to keep sending you funny messages over your data pad, constantly trying to outdo your own silly riddles and jokes. Want to tease him and eat dinner with him in the mess hall and slap him when he says something stupid and yell at him when he does something dangerous and cry when he doesn’t come back on time from a mission…

A sob finds its way out of your body, sandwiched between two moans. You’re not sure Poe even heard it until his voice reaches your ears again, this time gentler.

“Sweets? Is this working for you?”

You take a shuddering breath before answering.

“No.”

You practically hear Poe slump in defeat, the rhythm of his hand on his length slowing down. You bite your lip before continuing.

“Take me, Poe.”

“What?” Poe whirls around so fast you feel the air woosh over you as he disturbs it. You jump to your feet, still facing away from him and yank your flight suit over your shoulders and down your body, stepping out so it pools on the ground. He watches as you get back down on your hands and knees before him in your underwear, ass in the air, waiting for him to catch up.

“I need you, Poe. Just…just please get inside me,” you say, reaching back to pull the damp fabric of your panties aside, exposing your glistening, swollen folds for him to see.

You don’t have to ask him a third time. He’s on you so fast that you’re confused by his motions. It takes a few seconds before you realize that he’s taken your discarded flight suit and stretched it out on the ground, positioning you over it so that your hands and knees are protected from the dirt. The sweetness of this considerate action is offset by the way his fingers dig harshly into your hips, maneuvering your ass so that it lines up with his pelvis. You tilt forward, aided by pressure on your lower back which raises your click cunt to the level of his cock.  

“I’m going to make you feel so good – ”

“No more words, Dameron. Just shut up and get your cock inside – FUCK.” He spears you mid-sentence and you immediately fall down onto your elbows. Your ass still in the air, held in place by his hard grip, receives a smack and you cry out, feeling no pain. Only pleasure as the sting ripples through you and into your clenching cunt. He feels it deep inside you and groans.

“Maybe you’re the one who needs to shut up, baby.” His words issue forth from gritted teeth. “Always fucking teasing me with that fucking mouth.” His hips rut into yours, taking up an unforgiving pace, while the rest of his body folds over yours so his chest pressed flush to your back. One hand closes tightly around your chin, wrenching up your head and dragging a finger over your bottom lip which has grown plump from biting. “This beautiful, bossy fucking mouth. Always telling me off, telling me what to do.”

Your tongue darts out to meet his skin and his other fingers caress your chin in response. It’s a stark contrast to the almost feral way he is still clutching your hip and driving into you over and over.

There’s almost no resistance. You’re tight, cunt clutching onto his throbbing cock in an effort to keep him buried inside, but you’re wetter than you’ve ever been and it’s making his thrusts effortless. You assume it’s a side effect of the drink. But in some part of your brain you can’t believe that a plant could possibly make a man’s cock feel as good as Poe’s does right now inside you. How a plant could cause you to feel pleasure that is not simply rooted in the way his hand drags down from your jaw to wrench your breasts out of the cups of your bra. How a plant could in any way magnify the surely already intoxicating feeling of Poe’s mouth working at the side of your neck, the curve of your shoulder.

“This working, baby? This doing it?” Poe checks in then, not relenting in his thrusts. Never relenting. “You’re squeezing me, so I know your little pussy likes it.”

A shuddering gasp kicks through you before you can answer his question and he laughs. The vibrations go straight from his cock to your clit and you whimper some more.

“Your sounds. I want to record these little sounds you’re making and play them back when I’m flying. Have you fill the space in my x-wing till I can’t take it any more.” Poe presses a kiss to the back of your shoulder, nipping and then laving the skin over with his tongue. “I’m going to hear these sounds in my dreams.”

“It’s…just…the drink,” you practically hiccup, barely able to form thoughts from the way your body has focused all energy, all recognitions of nerve endings to the space between your thighs. Poe slaps your ass again and you keen.

“Just listen to yourself, baby. No drink is making you sound this hot. That’s all you, Sweets.”

Before you can argue further you do take a second to listen. To the way your shallow breaths mix with whimpers and whines. The gurgle in the back of your throat when his cock bounces against your cervix. He’s right. It is hot. You are hot. You reach a hand down to your clit, desperate to increase the already mind-blowing stimulation, greedy for more.

“You feel so good. You’re sosososogood,” you barely manage to slur. Despite your inability to fully speak you make the attempt because you assume that if hearing your gasps is egging him on, your words will amplify it. And amplify it they do. Poe’s hips stutter for a second before he drops down heavier on you, thrusting deeper and from a more primal place. A hand savagely kneads at one of your breasts, playing with the nipple.  

“I’ve never been this full. I can’t take it, I can’t…”

“Seems like you’re taking it pretty well, baby,” Poe coos, pressing more kisses to the side of your neck.

“I need m-more,” you gasp, realizing with urgency that the pressure in your core is finally building past the plateau of the last…hour? Half an hour? How long had this been going on? All night? It doesn’t matter because Poe’s inside you and he’s listening to you and suddenly you’re being slammed into with all the force he can muster. He expertly wrings pleasure from your body and you feel yourself careening toward a release that you can’t describe. Just out of reach and full of all the potential energy inherent in an object rocketing toward the moon only to soon plummet back to the depths.

“Poe! I…I…oh fuck…oh gods…I…”

“Go on, baby. Cum.”

“You ha- ahhhh. But you…y-you…” You’re babbling. You’re incoherent, not wanting to leave him behind in the blinding ache that comes before release. Your hands are fisting in the flight suit below you, desperate for something solid, something substantial to hold onto.

“Don’t wait for me, Sweets. Let go.”

And then his hands are closing over yours, fingers interlacing and squeezing down, pinning you to the ground with white knuckles that would hurt if you weren’t squeezing him right back, finally grounded in the way you needed.

And you’re cumming.

And cumming.

You feel every muscle in your body seize and spasm and bliss roils out through you in waves. You shake and stutter under him, feeling fresh wetness gush down around his cock as he fucks you through the feeling. You keep waiting for it to stop but it doesn’t, it only intensifies. It must be a side effect. Of the drink not the man. But when you feel yourself transcending the moment, the way your soul feels like it is literally floating above you, you use the out of body experience to take in the man who is causing this pleasure. The way he cages you in, bracing you through the storm of your orgasm, giving more and more to keep the flame burning as long as possible.

His muscles ultimately seize sometime around when your soul seems to sink back into your body and you’re one again enough with your senses that you can feel him paint your walls with sticky, hot cum. He doesn’t drop his weight on you like other men have after the completion of such exertions. Other men who had focused more on the destination than the journey, leaving you as wanting for release as you were wanting for air under the pressure of their body weight. Instead, Poe pulls you of you and flops to his back in the grass beside you. Without him holding you up you crumble down, face pressing into the fabric of your rumpled flight suit instead of the dirt, thanks to Poe.

A few minutes pass, silent except for the sound of your slowing gasps for air. When your breathing evens Poe sits up on his haunches to guide you back into your flight suit. You’re sticky from sweat and your combined cum, but you couldn’t care less with your bones liquified and your eyelids heavy. Gone is the buzzing ache, in its place a heavy sleepiness. When Poe lays you, now clothed, gingerly back down on the ground you automatically curl into him, allowing him to wrap his arms around your body.

Neither of you shares another word. You don’t have to.

Because shortly after you doze off. And for the first time in a long time your final thoughts before sleep overtakes you are not of the dread the morning will bring, but the solace you found in the night.

~*~

When you wake it’s to a dawn as grey as all the ones before it. Hazy with receding fog and with the promise of all the danger that looms ahead in the hours soon to follow. One of the planet’s suns has already breached the horizon, and you raise a hand to cover your eyes as you peer out from under the x-wing’s protective wing. Looking down you take stock.

Your flight suit is on but fully unzipped, leaving your chest and stomach entirely exposed, all the way down to your lower belly. A large hand covers one of your breasts, fingers twitching against your flesh as the man attached to it continues to dream. You follow the length of his arm to take in his body, tucked close into your own, equally unzipped, his broad torso showing through the gaping fabric. You watch Poe’s abdominal muscles contract with his inhales and exhales for a moment while you check in with your body.

The humming from last night is gone, that much is for certain. This makes you believe that the effects of the drink have worn off. You’re quick to question this hypothesis, however, when Poe stirs in his sleep and his hand squeezes down a bit on your breast. Your breath catches in your throat and fire shoots through your veins. A lingering symptom, you wonder. Or perhaps just a normal, biological reaction to sexual stimuli. You kick yourself mentally because of course it has to be the latter. It couldn’t be the third option which you won’t even allow yourself to fully consider.  

You require a shower urgently, it occurs to you suddenly. And food, a realization that coincides with a rumbling in your empty stomach. Knowing you’ll never have a good enough excuse to extricate yourself from this gorgeous man’s arms you steel your nerves and pull away. When you stand, Poe groans and allows an eye to crack open, his hand flying up to shield his eyes from the rising sun. You’re silhouetted against the dawn and he takes in your outline. The curves of you.

“Morning, Sweets,” he says, voice hoarse with sleep this time instead of sex.

“Morning, Fly Boy,” you reply simply with a small smile. You feel a buzzing in the pocket of your suit then and pull out your mini com unit, even more portable than your usual data pad. The message that blares across the screen and you relay it before Poe can reach his own device which had similarly vibrated.

“We’ve got a new mission. Briefing is in an hour and then we take off.” The information feels stilted as it leaves your lips. How can you feel so entirely, earth-shatteringly changed and yet in many ways everything is still the same. The sun still came up. The war still rages on.

You look down at Poe and his intense expression as he watches you makes you think that he’s wondering the same thing.

Your heart thumps in your chest, this time unaided by any drugged drink or the eyes or hands of a man whose existence seemed both your making and undoing. Routine is the only thing that can calm these nerves. Routine is what is required to survive war. Routine and protocol and boundaries.

You zip up your flight suit with finality.

“See you at the briefing?” you ask, though its more statement than question.

“Of course.” Poe’s response is quiet as he continues to watch you from his reclining position. You’re still above him and at a distance, a position he often associates with you.

You smile and give him a good natured salute before turning and making you way back toward the town where you know the rest of the Resistance members are already bustling about and preparing for the day.

Another day you hope you, and Poe, will be lucky enough to outlive.

~*~

Doing a smaller taglist since it’s a Poe fic and I’m not sure if everyone on my usual taglist is into it (Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed for future work!): @paper-n-ashes @mariesackler @tlcwrites @foxilayde @mylifeisactuallyamess @sacklerscumrag @jynzandtonic @millenialcatlady @barbers-glimmerin-darlin @hopeamarsu @direnightshade @leather-flannel-liquor @fizzywoohoo @aliveandlonely @wayward-rose @safarigirlsp @emeraldsiren20 @finn-ray-nal-beads @maryforyou @maybe-your-left

[divinetheatre]

(just saw ur addition to the post)

The ppl who only see Will as this weak little man are literally so closeminded. They love the line "do you think you could change me as I've changed you", but refuse to acknowledge that Will changed???

And it is honestly upsetting to see ppl writing their relationship as Hannibal viewing Will as nothing more than another pig. Like yeah their relationship may not be the most healthy one out there but it's not abusive like that. Like you were saying, he sees Will as his god and by season 3s end he only really treats him with respect

- 🐺

yes, that's the whole point. they changed each other. people are stuck on will being someone who is unsure about how to navigate relationships and turn him into a pitiful, weak person. but their relationship isn't like anyone else's. will says "i've never known myself as well as i know myself when i'm with him." to me that doesn't read as scared and uncertain, but rather the opposite. he knows what he wants and he takes it especially by twotl

[wmuhummel]

[ PRIVATE ] Sebastian middle name Smythe, I think you understanding that just made me fall a little bit in love with you. Or it's really bad indigestion. Honestly it could be either at this point. Although should I be this shocked? You've been able to read me like a book -- unsure if this is a good thing or not, honestly. Maybe I should change it up now so you can stop reading me so easily.

Maybe because you give a shit about us? Sure, there's flirtation and all that, with the constant desire to get naked and do things -- but you seem to actually give a shit on if we're having fun and comfortable while doing all of that. So you're clearly genuinely interested and that's nice? Is that so wrong to enjoy? No? That's what I thought. AND IT ISN'T ABOUT 'NEEDING' TO! I WANT TO! God, you gave me an expensive necklace and you're just eyerolling about me paying for a simple dinner in Lima, Ohio? Not half as extravagant.

No, I won't object the kissing. If anything that'll make the closeminded homophobes uncomfortable. Which is always a goal, honestly.

[ PRIVATE ] someone said it was like pulling on a little girls pigtails but I don't think it's quite that straight foward, I get that's affection. And you know- your way of seeing if a guy is gonna hang around. Fine. Fine. I'll keep that list secret for a few moments yet.

God knows what possesed you both do that but here we are. And I know better than to argue about you paying for all this. No matter how tempting it is to point that you don't actually need too. I'll invite him. He asked and it seems a shame for him to miss out on it- though I am stealing a kiss from both of you for being sweet. Seriously. It's very, very touching.

And you can't object to me there.

[bi-lesbian]

i thought bi lesbians were made up but your explanation tag changed my mind :) im still just a bit confused on the *bi/pan with a preference for fem people* definition. for people who ID that way, would they still have sex with/date men? and what's the difference between that and non-lesbian bisexuality? sorry if my questions don't make sense. i just haven't found many good resources on the topic and want to learn more. thank you for educating me and others

im glad to hear that :D! im happy to be able to spread info on the identity so more ppl can understand it :3!

also for that definition, it depends on the person! theyre probably likely to not be attracted to/date/have sex with guys that often, but its different by person.

i myself use that definition as one of the reasons i use the term! but for my specific case, i tend to not really be that interested in dating guys (excluding sex completely here since im sex repulsed and ace) even despite being attracted to a small few- because being attracted to someone doesnt neccesarily mean you always want to persue romance/sex with them! i cant really see myself dating any guys in the future, since i very rarely am attracted to any and usually (or never?) am not attracted enough to want to date them. im somewhere on the arospec scale, so i think it probably has to do with more aesthetic attraction than actual romantic attraction :o hope that makes sense!

and honestly, bi lesbian is just used to have a more specific label for some that feel more comfortable/accurate with it, so anyone falling under any of the bi lesbian definitions can still choose to identify as just bi! the difference is just a matter of preference for term! and generally just if theyre a bi woman/nb they can use bi lesbian if theyd like- bc lesbian historically included bi women until biphobes started pushing them out of the term. the meaning has never fully changed bc theres always been bi women who still use the lesbian label. and i dont find it very fair to call bi women lesbophobes and continue to keep them out of the label simply bc the "definition has changed" when it was biphobes that pushed that change to begin with

i hope that all made sense !! and thank you for trying to understand and everything, that means a lot to me ;w; its really disheartening when ppl tend to turn down stuff like this without even trying to talk to ppl in the identity to understand it, its just so closeminded and not good imo to do that for like.. Anything. its not fair to turn down/hate on stuff just bc ur initial reaction is its bad/weird/dumb/etc. so when ppl do make the effort to learn and understand even if they end up not really getting it or something makes me really happy :'3

[loudlygrandstarlight-blog]

Look, I don't want to be controversial, and maybe I'm just unaware of some things, but from what I've seen, in terms of abortion, it's from one extreme to the other.

On either side of the spectrum.

And I want to know why?

Why can't it be situational? You know, based on the situation that the person finds themselves in.

I understand that many people who are for legalising abortion are saying that there are some women who get raped and so forth and then get pregnant from the attacker, so abortion should be legal. And I agree wholeheartedly.

And then there are others who are saying that abortion should be illegal because its is effectively ending a life. I guess I also agree with that.

You see, abortion, in my humble, inoffensive opinion should be available if the situation calls for it. If having a baby is endangering the life of the mother or baby, then yes, I think that the baby should be aborted. If a woman was raped, or attacked or however you want to say it, and is now pregnant, then yes, abort it.

But if two people go willingly into this, with both giving consent, and then ends up pregnant, I do not think that the baby should be aborted. Birth control and other methods of preventing pregnancy are much too easily available for people to be having accidents in situations like this.

And yes, I understand that birth control and all these measures are expensive but you're the one who's doing it, knowing the consequences. I understand that it feels like something that has to be done as a way to show affection, but honestly, if you end up in trouble, this was a choice you made. I don't know what else to say.

But if I hear anyone complaining that they don't have access, I call bull. If it's accessible in my third-world country then these first world countries should be fine. (Unless ofcourse your government hates you, then God save you all)

But then again, this is my opinion.

And in my country, we had a grant which basaically financial support that was given to single mothers to help raise and support her children until age 18. This is given from the state. Also, the father had no opinion in the legal side of abortion. It's a personal choice for the man and woman, woman and woman, two people (or whatever. I'm just uneducated, not closeminded). If a pregnant woman shows up at a hospital, pregnant and is in bad shape, or her baby is in danger, what the father/man/other person who is not pregnant has to say is irrelevant. If the mother wants an abortion, she gets an abortion.

So, I think that people need to take an breath and a step back. It's not a straight line, it's more of a semicircle. Be more willing and open minded about some things.

I really didn't mean to offend, and if I did, I do apologize, but I feel like this argument has been going on for too long. And people are just getting mean about it.

[itskaradanversbitch]

I hope I may ask your advice. I identify as bi. I'm out to a few precious people in my life. But I think about coming out to more family but I hesitate, one because I don't want to be judge but also, I've never had a sexual relationship with either sex. I fear questions like 'how do you know you like both if you've never been with either?' I fear I have to explain or justify my sexuality but I sometimes question myself. "Am I really bi?" What do I do? I'm in my late 30s & still hiding.

I’m honestly not the best person to give you advice about this but I’m gonna try. I’ll try to explain things from my pov but I could be totally wrong. I hope it makes a little sense tho.

Coming out is not something that you absolutely have to have to do, straight people don’t have to it so why should everyone else but I get it. I feel the same way 🙈

If you really really want them to know so you can be yourself more openly then go for it ❤️

Just please make sure that you’re safe and that they hold no power over you, judgy people can be very friggin scary. Are you out to your immediate family? You could ask them for advice as to how to come out to the others.

As for the questions part, if they ask those kinda nonsensical questions, ask them how they know they’re straight if they haven’t explored other things. It’s just stupid, you love who you love. It’s none of their business. I get questions from ignorant people who want me to “choose a side” but I literally can’t. I love humans and that’s the tea. You’ll have closeminded people everywhere you go. It will take a little bit of practice but you’ll learn to take their opinions with a grain of salt. I try to keep calm and just listen to them, I explain my POV and try to understand theirs. If they can’t see where I’m coming from then I honestly just leave it be. I don’t owe them any explanation.

The questioning yourself thing is something a lot of have gone through or are still going through. It has a lot to do with what society expects of us and what has been taught to us. I have personally struggled with this and I have friends who have as well. It’s really a learning process of going against the rules people have laid upon you for literally your whole life. Religion is a huge part of it and if it helpssss ... there have been theories of religions that existed thousands of years ago where people were just accepted for loving who they loved. Knowing that there’s a possibility that people were accepting (before they were conquered and converted) helped me accept myself better. I know that it doesn’t have to be the truth but I like to think that the amazing ancient civilizations were more advanced and accepting than us.

I take it that you do want to date people? Dating apps or like even tumblr are great ways to meet likeminded people which makes it easier to form a connection. Take a leap of faith and go for what you want, you can do it ❤️

If you’re still not comfortable with telling everyone then you could wait until you’re completely comfortable or if you have a significant other.

I saw this post about two women who were in their old age and were in love with each other but they never did anything because of basically what society expected of them. It opened my eyes a little more , go for what you want before you leave this earth. Do whatever makes you happy (as long as it’s consensual with the parties involved).

That was a long rant but I hope it gives you some clarity.

Good luck 🤗

[tanadidreamer]

Pretending

Notes: Rhys and Kayla belong to the wonderful @outcastcommander and this is a continuation of Come Back!

(((((((((()))))))))))))))

Jax’s good eye drifted open as he felt a familiar presence enter the makeshift medical tent to see Kayla moving towards him, which caused the teen to roll over onto his side with his back facing the older girl as he closed his eyes and pretend to be asleep.

“I know you’re awake, Jax.” Kayla said as she sat beside the cot. “What’s wrong? More migraines?”.

“Like you care!” Jax muttered as he glared at the tent wall. “I’m not an idiot, okay? Jordan was right, you just used me! Just like everybody else!”.

“Jax…..”.

Jax sat up and turned on her. “You abandoned me there, Kayla! For what, huh? A good meal and a warm bed? Some shiny coins?” Jax demanded as he attempted to shove her away, which just lead to him falling against her and tears brimmed his good eye.

“I…..I couldn’t be anywhere near my mother.” Kayla answered quietly as she actually hugged him as Jax noticed something off about her presence, there was somebody else here aside from Bralor, who was quietly observing from where he had been going over some paperwork. “I...It wasn’t safe, not for the….the baby.”.

“You’re……” Jax began to say. “That scary blond…..he’s the dad, isn’t he?”.

Kayla nods slightly as she rested her chin on his head. “I didn’t……”.

“You didn’t abandon me?” Jax asked quietly and hopefully as he leaned against her before something dawned on him. “W-what are we going to do? Your mama and my father both want to make you pay! What if they go after the baby to get to you? The Trues are probably going to cast us out too! What are we going to do!?”.

“Hey, shhh, shh, don’t get yourself worked up again.” Kayla muttered. “We’ll figure it out, okay? We always do, yeah?”.

“Like hell, I’ll let Jaster cast you two out.” Bralor said from his corner which startled Kayla and caused her to release Jax and shove him behind her with a snarl. “Relax, kiddo. I’m a neutral party, you two are staying where you are. Even if I have to sedate that farmboy.”.

“How much did you hear?” Kayla snapped back which caused Bralor to smile slightly. “Enough to see that you’re not entirely a coldhearted bitch, my dear.” Bralor answered as he tapped something on his datapad and walked over. “Might I ask how far along you are? What signs have you noticed so far?”.

“Morning sickness.” Kayla answered warily. “My mother was acting strange last time I saw her.”

Bralor hummed thoughtfully at that. “When was that?”.

“About eight weeks ago or so?”.

“I see, and she’s a full-blooded Cathar.” Bralor muttered as he tapped at the datapad. “I’m not going to ask about your, ah, relationship with Rhys. It’s blatantly obvious who’s the father. But I would like you to keep me posted, hybrid species such as yours are known to have various complications.”.

“Speaking from experience?”. “Ingrid Meek is a Zygerrian-Zabrak hybrid, the pregnancy was not easy on her mother at all. Izan Lok ended up losing his wife and child, he was a hybrid like you were but his wife was human, so yeah. Speaking from experience.” Bralor offered them both a soft smile. “But don’t you worry, I’m quite the miracle worker if I do say so myself. You’ll be just fine, kiddo.”.

“He’s not lying.” Jax muttered to his sister as he looked at Bralor warily and felt some weird mix of concern, fondness, and exasperation from the tired doctor. 

“Well, more like very hopeful. But you two can trust me, I did take an oath after all.”.

The two young exiles exchanged wary looks then looked towards the doctor who smiled in return.

(((())))))))

Myles quietly watched as certain warriors glared in his direction which caused him to glare right back at them, damn them and their stupid closeminded behavior. Myles knew his father had his secrets, hell, his mama had her own secrets, that’s how Clan Rau stayed on top of stuff, each member had to have their secrets to keep stuff going. Papa saw potential in Rhys for whatever reason that Myles wasn’t aware, and ancestors knew the old man had a thing with knowing stuff so what did he know about Kayla? Did he see potential in her like he did Rhys?

Then there was the Vizsla heir, that guy…..Myles had never seen somebody so terrified of anybody in his life, Vizsla was utterly convinced they were going to kill him on the spot just for being Force-sensitive.

“Rau!” Myles broke out of his thoughts as Rhys practically roared his surname, which sent a chill up his spine as the older teen moved towards him. Speaking of unexpected behavior.

“Everything alright, Rhys?” Myles asked calmly as he tried to smile at his best friend, only to wince as Rhys glared at him with cold, flat and dark eyes. “Have you lost your kriffing mind, Rau?” Rhys asked as he glared down at the shorter teen. “They’re both Death Watch! Kayla’s already proven she can’t be trusted!”.

“Kayla’s proven that there’s more to her than she seems.” Myles corrected as he raised an eyebrow at Rhys. “You didn’t seem to care what she was when you two were messing around with each other.”.

Without warning, Rhys lashed out by grabbing Myles by his collar and picked him up with ease. “You really need to learn to shut up, Myles.” Rhys snapped as he proceeds to throw Myles to the ground roughly. “Out of all the people I expected to be a Death Watch sympathizer, you’re the last person I expected to be one.”.

“What’s gotten into you? Rhys, I know you love her! And Vizsla, hell, did you see how he reacted to Jaster and Kayla?” Myles snapped back as he quickly stood and glared at the taller teen, as well as shifting his posture to dodge if need be. “He’s more scared of us than hostile!”. 

“I was an idiot to think she could actually change.”.

“How kriffing blind are you, Rhys? She has changed!” Myles pointed at him. “Are you that thickheaded not to see that you did that? She’s Death Watch born, Rhys, survival is a default setting! D’you honestly think she’d choose you over Vizsla?”.

“She….”.

“In all the time we’ve known her, I’ve never seen he that kind and gentle! Even with you!” Myles nod towards where Kaz had taken up camp. “It’s her brother, Rhys. Ancestors know I would do the same if I were in her position, I know you would too!”.

“She tried to kill Jaster!”.

“I’m not changing my mind, Rhys. I honestly don’t know what Papa saw in making you his successor if this is how you’re going to handle this!”.

“Oh, so is that why he’s missing now?”.

Myles tensed at that. “What do you mean by that?” The younger teen asked slowly.

“You heard me.” Rhys answered as he glared at Myles. “Where’s Cedric, Myles? How’d old Montross talk ya into offing your own father?”.

((((())))))

Nico scowled as he dragged Rhys away from Myles, who was being restrained by Alastair and Nina. “Get him out of here.” Nico told the preteen and teenager as he started to back up with Rhys. “Rhys, c’mon, it’s not worth it.”.

“Let go, Nico.” Rhys snapped back.

“He’s thirteen, Rhys. We both known thirteen-year-olds do stupid crud, you need to calm down.” Nico said as he continued to pull Rhys away. “I know you’re hurting but beating the hell out of Myles isn’t going to help, you’ll regret it later on.”.

“Back off, Nico. He started this!” Rhys snapped as he went to elbow Nico who dodged it and kept his grip.

“And I’m ending it, you’re the Cab’alor so start kriffing acting like it!” Nico snapped back as the younglings vanished out of sight. “I know you’re pissed off and hurt, mate, but taking it out on Myles ain’t gonna help. Hell, do you want Madam Rau to kill ya? She’s one scary bitch when she’s want to be, and hurting her kids brings that side out.”.

“Do you think I care? She’d side with me too!”.

“Would she?” Nico asked as he released Rhys and let the younger man turn on him. “Rhys, listen to yourself! That kid looks up to you as a mentor! Clan Rau does shit like this all the time, we may not agree but they always have their…..”.

Without warning, Nico was cut off by a quick, but painful sucker punch that decked him. “Y’know, for somebody who’s supposedly mute, you sure like to talk a lot.” Rhys snipped as he looked down at Nico coldly. “Hell, are you adopted or something? Every Mereel here is against this except you!”. “My uncle….”.

“He’s just making Bralor happy, you know how vicious that man can be.”.

Nico sighed as he sat up and wiped at his nose, duly noting the blood on his hand. “That better?” Nico asked as he went to pick himself up and just looked at Rhys coolly. “Because the first shot was free, next time I’ll return the favor.”.

Nico really had no problems admitting he preferred talking over fighting, but he was no pushover either. Rhys could be like this with anybody else but Nico didn’t appreciate it one bit and he glared at the younger man who snarled at him.

“Listen, I might not like Kayla being here but what about that kid, Rhys? What were we supposed to do? Hand him back over to Tor to become manda knows what?” Nico proceeds to question as he stepped away from Rhys. “So, tell me, Cab’alor, what would Cedric do? You…..”. Nico stepped to the side as Rhys went to punch him again and stook his foot out to send the asshole stumbling a couple of steps. “You really aren’t listening, are you?!” Rhys snapped back. “Kayla….” “Broke your heart and Myles was doing what his daddy would’ve wanted so you tried to beat him up.” Nico chimed in as he frowned at Rhys. “Mate, you are a strange one. The Rhys I thought I knew would’ve probably tried to help calm that kid down, understood why Kayla did what she did, but this? Who are you, Rhys?”.

“I could ask you the same, Nico.” Rhys snapped as he tackled Nico to the ground with a clash of metal and a snarl from both young men.

[efurutravel]

Translation 3

Finally I have translation three done! Summer is so much more busier than I thought! Also, this one was a bit more difficult because she talks very casually which I think leaves more up to context and interpretation. The others I did in one sitting, but this one I took breaks because I was just like もういいぃぃ! A little annoyed lol. I didn’t try to “translate” her way of talking because I don’t know. I don’t want to put a personality on her.  So this is story 2 of the Hafu article that can be found here. I was requested to provide the Japanese as well, so, excuse the length, but enjoy the read! 

|Even if you hear about my roots, you’ll say it’s a tan|

Regina was born in the Tokyo area of Fussa City to her father, a military officer at a local base, and her Japanese mother. She attended an elementary school located at the Yokota military base and joined the Fussa City schools for junior high school. I asked of her story at her usual workplace, the Yokota Base.

ルーツを聞かれても「日サロだよ」って

レジーナさんは東京都福生市で米空軍所属の父と日本人の母とのもとに生まれた。小学校は米軍横田基地の中にある小学校に、中学校は福生市の中学校に通っていた。レジーナさんが普段働く横田基地の中でお話を伺った。

Do you have any recollections of your father?

My mom and dad split up. As soon as I was born, my dad immediately returned to America and I lived life here with my mom.

I don’t really remember my dad much. My friends have asked “What if you look for your dad?” so I searched names like his and found an address/addresses. So, I went to America, but I never saw him or got to meet him. In the end, we never got to meet and he passed away. Maybe there are a lot of children in this kind of situation who have parents from a military base.

――お父さんの記憶はありますか？

お母さんとお父さんは別れていて。お父さんは、私が生まれてすぐにアメリカに帰って、わたしはお母さんとこっちで生活してます。

お父さんの記憶はほとんどなくて。友達から「お父さん探してみたら？」って言われて、人探しサイトから似た名前を探して住所を見つけたんです。それでアメリカに行ったんだけど結局すれ違っちゃって、会えなくて。結局会えないまま、他界しちゃいました。親が基地関係で出会った場合、こういう境遇の子どもも多かったんじゃないかな

Could you tell us a bit about your childhood?

I of course thought that there weren’t many children like me at my nursery school (maybe it’s same as pre-school in the states). They often said things like “go away” a lot. And of course they had a lot to say about the difference in my skin color.

My mother was already worried about this, so she placed me in the elementary school at the base. But, even at that school, there weren’t many mixed roots children who went. As expected, I had to recognize they made up the majority (The verb is interesting here: 一目置かれるmeaning ‘to acknowledge one’s superiority’. How crazy.) So, even if I’m in Japan, or at an American establishment, there is always this gray area of uncertainty. (Not really sure of the subject here. Maybe she means gray area of how she will be treated, of how people react…)

Around the time I was in high school, having a tan was kind of the fad around the world. Because everyone around me were getting tans, even if they heard about my racial background, they would just say “Oh, it’s a tan!” I could understand that kind of thinking given the situation (laughs). I kind of thought like, “Oh, finally people won’t take much notice of my skin.” But, now I think that in itself was a bit different.

――子どもの頃のことを教えてもらえますか？

保育園では私みたいな人が少なかったと思うんですよね。物珍しかったのか「あっち行け」とか言われることがすごくあって。私の場合はやっぱり肌の色のことで強く言われることがありました。

そういうことを心配した母��が、小学校は米軍基地の中の学校に入れたんですよ。でも基地の学校でも自分のようなミックスのルーツの子どもは少なかったから、やっぱりそこでも一目置かれるというのがありました。だから、日本にいても、アメリカ社会にいてもどっちつかずっていうのはあった。

私は高校生ぐらいの頃に日焼けするのが世の中で流行ってきた世代で。私の周りもみんな焼いてたから、自分がルーツを聞かれても「日サロだよ」って。それで納得されたこともありましたよ（笑）。「ああ、やっとこれで自分の肌の色を気にしないでいられる」って思ったかな。でも、そうやって思うこと自体がちょっと違うのかなって今は思ったりもする。

Did you have any troubles or worries around adolescence?

Yeah. In all honesty, there was always this complex feeling (I think it’s not complex, like difficult, but you know psych type). I’m a pretty careless person, so it may be thought “oh there are no worries here”, but… Even now there is still that complex in me.

For example, even when I was pregnant before, I honestly thought, “It would be bad if this child lives a life like mine.” (as in having to deal with the complex, bullying, and other things that comes with having darker skin and being half) From this, I of course think I still have some sort of complex.

Of course there are some Hafu who are raised without this type of experience. But, as for me, because of my skin, a lot of things were said about my skin in my childhood. Even if something was said, I couldn’t say anything back. I can’t say I was so extreme as to bleach my skin, but I definitely though, “I wish my skin was white”. I don’t really think that anymore, but when I get the stares from those around me, sometimes I do.

You can say “It’s okay if you don’t worry about it,” but, of course, when some bad experiences come up, I begin to worry about it.

――思春期の頃は自分のアイデンティティに悩んだり…？

うん、常にコンプレックスの塊というのが正直なところで。私自身はこうやっておちゃらける人だから「悩みとかなさそう」って思われるみたいなんだけど。でもやっぱりコンプレックスはいまだに自分の中にありますね。

例えばこの前子どもを妊娠したときも、「またこの子が自分とおんなじ思いをしたらいやだな」って正直思ったんですよね。でも、そうやって思っちゃう自分ってやっぱりまだコンプレックスが抜けてないのかなって。

もちろんこういう経験をせずに育ったハーフもいると思う。でも私の場合は、子どもの頃は本当に肌のことで色々言われてきたから、本当にそれが嫌で。何か言われても反論できなかった。極端に言ったら漂白じゃないけど、色を白くしたいって思ってて。今はそうは思わなくはなったんだけど、周りからの目線が気になるときはある。

「気にしなきゃいいよ」っていわれたらそこまでなんだけど、でもやっぱりそれで嫌な思いしてきた私にとってはやっぱり気になっちゃうよね。

Do you feel/experience this in your everyday life?

In my daily life, I’m asked “What’s your nationality?”. When I go to make things like my passport, drivers license, bankbook, or ID, I get asked like “Your nationality is…. Japanese, right..?”. Even when I get a car loan. I think, “of course I am seen as a foreigner.”

I can understand when people are talking about me. At a store, some people sitting next to me think I can’t speak Japanese and say things like, “American people are increasing here, hey” or “Oh, must be an American”. So I think, “Because I’m here, they’re having this kind of conversation?”. It could just be a persecution complex as well though.

There are times when I though to say, “I can understand what you’re saying.” (Not confident in this). When I start talking with my friends in, as usual, Japanese, it’s a dead silence from the those having the conversations earlier.

――普段の生活で感じることはありますか？

普通に生活していて「国籍はどちらですか？」って聞かれますね。パスポート、免許証、銀行の通帳、自分のIDになるものを作るときには必ず、「国籍は、日本ですよね…？」みたいな感じで聞かれます。車のローンを組む時も。「ああ、やっぱり私は外国人として見られてるのね」って。

あと周りの人たちが私のことを話してるときはわかりますね。私が日本語を話せないと思って、お店で隣に座った人が「最近アメリカの人増えたね」とか、「アメリカってこうだよね」とかって話し始めたりすることがある。「私がここにいるからそういう会話になったの？」って思ってしまうんですよ。被害妄想だよって言われたらそこまでなんですけど。

「私、話していることわかりますよ」って思って横で聞いてたりすることがあって。私が友達と普通に日本語で話し始めると、さっきまで話してたのに一気にしーんとなるんですよね。

In regard to Japanese companies, what do you think about how they see “Hafu”?

Many people mention how most Hafu are usually the mix of white and Japanese. Like me, it feels like Black and Japanese mixed Hafu children are viewed apathetically from the back.

Finally, groups like J Soul Brothers of three generations have become popular recently. But, of course, there aren’t many girls to come out. Just, like, sports player, Osaka Naomi. There are some models like JJ and ViVi, but, as expected, a model mixed with white is more common.

The most shocking thing was when Miss Universe, Miyamoto Eriana, came out and a TV report made the comment, “She doesn’t appear very Japanese.” I thought, “Whaaat?!” But, of course, there is that kind of closeminded thinking.

It’s kind of strange… Sometimes I think that there is this common idea in Japan that people mixed with Black can’t do anything outside of the sports, dance, or singing industries. For girls who want to become models or something, there aren’t chances to see them in the media (Sorry, not too confident here). If discrimination can move away from these kinds of things, I wonder if Japan can also change a little bit.

――日本社会における「ハーフ」へのまなざしについてはどう思いますか？

みんなが言う「ハーフ」って結局白人と日本人とのハーフが多くて。私みたいに、黒人と日本人とのハーフの子たちとかは後ろの方からしらーっと見ている感じ。

ようやく最近だよね、三代目J Soul Brothersとかが出てくるようになってきたの。でもやっぱり女の子はあんまり出てこないよね。スポーツ選手だと大坂なおみちゃ���ぐらいで。『JJ』とか『ViVi』とか結構ハーフのモデル使ってるけど、やっぱり白人系の子が多いよね。

一番衝撃的だったのがミスユニバースに宮本エリアナさんが出てきたときに、テレビのコメンテーターが「彼女は日本人らしくない」ってコメントをしていたこと。「はー！？」と思った。やっぱりこういうところで狭い考えしちゃうんだなって。

変な話、黒人のミックスの子はもうスポーツとかダンス、歌の業界くらいでしか活躍できないんじゃないか、そういう雰囲気が日本では横行しているんじゃないかなって思うときもある。女の子にとっての憧れになるモデルだったり、華やかな場所に出てくることはないというか。そういうところが分け隔てなくなってきたら日本ももう少し変わるのかなって思うけど。

*Under pic*

Regina started our talk with saying, “Of course there hasn’t been this kind of chance since this isn’t a usual topic of conversation. Even we talk, people can’t really understand (my story/experience). “ I thought I could offer a glimpse into not having been able to share my experiences up until now, and, at the same time, being able to share my experience but still not being about to come to grips with these two realities. Someone wanting to understand another experience probably needs some background knowledge. But, what’s more to ask for is for people to listen to different ideas and experiences. (not too confident in this either).

レジーナさんは「やっぱりこういう機会じゃないと普段話せないことがあるから。話してもわかってもらえないことがあるから」と言って話し始めてくれた。これまで周囲に自分の経験を伝えてこなかったわけではないこと、同時に伝えてもなかなか受け止められなかった現実の両方が垣間見えたような気がした。誰かの経験を理解するうえで多少の予備知識は必要かもしれない。けれど、それ以上に求められるのは異なる考えや経験に耳を傾ける想像力ではないだろうか。

[spectral-buni]

📺Alice Moon in different Villainous AUs📺(OUTDATED)

I was reading some Baby Hats collection comics(ADORABLE, by the way, should check ‘em out), and thought, I wonder what Alice would be like in those AUs and some... and here we are. So, far I only got a few, so I’ll keep reblogging to add on if I find any cool ones. Also, if you guys have AUs you think I could possibly use, feel free to share them with me, I will credit you!

☀️🐺Heroic🐺☀️AU:

I’m not sure who initially created this AU, but I’ll use @qtarts designs because I love them to death!

Here, Alice Moon is instead Malice(Ma-less) Sun (put a lot of time in that name, not really).

Malice is a holy demon. She died under mysterious circumstances, and accidentally redeemed herself when she saved a life. To this day, she tries to earn her spot back as the strongest demon in Hell

She has a stubby grey tail and can make ears like a wolf’s pop on the top of her head

A notable power of hers are her poisonous tears and her incredible strength

She cannot fly, however, for her wings were ripped off long ago

She owns a small bakery called Bitters N’ Death. It was started to sell villains pastries filled and made with unpleasant ingredients to either give to their heroes or eat them themselves. Unknown to her, her pastries made for great heroic products. She sold it to White Hat, who offered a large sum of money for her small business and cooperation. She makes cakes that can heal, donuts that can increase strength, and some that can wash out evilness to an extent. She had no idea all those bootleg spices she bought off a market would make such good pastries, but continues doing it

Her colors are black, white, and some blue

Her frame is the same as Alice’s, and has light grey eyes with black scleras. Her pupils are inverted crosses. Her teeth blood-stained and sharp(claims it’s blood, but her cherry scented breath tells another story). Her long, grey-white hair is greasy and straightened. Her skin is white, but completely smooth.

Malice is a rude and arrogant woman, closeminded on all aspects and believes her opinion is the only one that counts. She’s got a silver tongue even villains get scared of, and simply put isn’t a nice person. Malice doesn’t follow anyone, she has no ruler or ‘god’ to look up to, except White Hat who she has to respect due to him being her boss

She's very nonchalant, and doesn't show emotion to pretty much anyone. Malice isn't one to react to even the smallest things

White Hat isn’t very giddy about her, but he can tolerate her enough to hire her for her bakery. Sometimes White tries to convince her she’s a really good person, but Malice always denies him that. He’ll ocasionally try to compliment her, only to have to dodge an incoming kick from her

Clemencia has a grudging respect for Malice, but doesn’t like her too much. It’s sort of like stepsisters forced to like each other, but far better than what Demencia and Alice have. For one, Clemencia has never tried to kill Malice. They have their occasional chats about stuff

Slug has respect for her abilities and snark, but he doesn’t enjoy her presence. Trying to get the two to get along is like trying to join two negative poles together, it just won’t work

6.6.6 doesn’t at all like Malice. But 6.6.6 doesn’t like anything

🌕🦉Apathetic🦉🌕 AU

Apathetic AU by @nivilliain and @themcnobody

Here, her name is Alibi(A-ley-bye) Satellite

Alibi is a seraph, but doesn’t take her ranking very seriously(claims she does, but doesn’t)

Her six wings are dark brown and her lips are naturally dark. Alibi’s hair is horned like an owl’s

Two notable powers of hers are invisibility and teleportation, therefore making her impossible to track down

She doesn’t own anything, not a bakery nor a medical degree

She’s very quiet and introverted. She’ll never initiate conversations first, and is cold to others. But Alibi has a very flexible moral code. She has no patience for idiocy and will not give her enemies a second chance

Her colors are yellow, brown, and grey

Her skin and body are the same as Alice’s, scars included. Her arms, however are entirely bionic. Her eyes are also robotic, with the cross- shaped pupils the cornea being a glowing yellow and the rest a metallic grey. Her brown hair is straightened and reaches her chin

Grey Hat was rather annoyed by her presence. She claimed to have gone down from heaven to guide them, but she does very little and none of them have been ‘enlightened’ as she claimed they would be. Full of promises, but no action. Though, she has proved to be a good hitwoman...

Yamencia isn’t at all fond of Alibi. Alibi is also attracted to Grey Hat, so she’s a rival. Only she deserves Grey Hat! Not that seraph scum!

Clug honestly doesn’t really notice her. She’s mostly quiet around him. Though, he’ll catch her do something awful. Clog enjoys this sadistic side of her

E.0.3 appreciates that she’s pretty much indestructible. Alibi is surprisingly patient with him, since he’s a sweet heart with incredible strength like her. They get along fine

⭐️🦊Cowardice🦊⭐️ AU

Cowardice AU by @skribblie

Alisabeth(A-lee-sah-beth) Star

Alisabeth is a cherub

She allows her fox ears peek out, and has a fluffy fox tail

Her colors are orange, grey, white, and green

Similar to the Heroic AU, she’s got a bakery that Fraid bought to sell her ‘heroic pastries’(Well, Glorf was the one who negotiated). She also has experience in the medical field, so no matter how atrocious she may be with the scalp, she manages to do something good out of it

She’s a lazy woman with very little kindness in her heart. What she does have of kindness, she uses it on the gang. She’ll ocasionally say something bordering on straight up cruel, but claims it to be her being honest. She is honest, and a little sadistic. But she tries to be nice for Fraid’s sake. She’s constantly tired, as well

Same physical build as all the other hers. She has her long, orange hair simply braided. She has bright green eyes, and claws. She’s paper white, and is covered from head to toe with scars of all sorts, so she bundles up in bandages

Fraid Hat is a bit frightened by her. She’s still new to the team, but she’s managed to do great with her bakery, no matter how terrifying her cooking process and ingredients can be. But he appreciates that she tries to be nicer around him

Sanity is okay with Alisabeth. She doesn’t really like how she always frightens Fraid Hat, but Alisabeth tries to fix it on her own, so there’s that. They’re iffy with each other

Dr. Glurf and her are on good terms. They both try to protect Fraid Hat while also playing a prank on him every now and then. I mean, one of the two doesn’t do it entirely on purpose

4.0.4? They don’t really talk to each other much, but sometimes the pink bear’ll eat the stuff that’s about to go bad in the bakery, so....?

🌎🐸Inked 🐸🌎AU

Inked AU by @the-mighty-sorceress

(Tell me if I need to change anything about the character)

Ally(Ah-lie, like the word)Earth

She doesn’t have any frog-like appendages, but always rocks a frog hood

Generally, a hippie nerd who loves to recycle. She’s really chill, and doesn’t care about you unless you bring her some Burger King or Carl’s Jr. She likes Java Juice smoothies, and small creatures. She’s asexual and the same romantic orientation as the other hers. She also has a ton of consipracy theories about everything(“I hear Java Juice is secretly governed by a grey alien”)

Her colors are green, blue, black, and yellow orange

Her specialty are some body modifications. Her main job is still making gourmet pastries and drawing, though. She also has a degree in surgery and nursing, so it’s useful in her modifications

Ally has the same frame as all the other variations of her. Her hair is long and dyed a light shade of blue. She wears darker blue cross earrings. Ally has a split tongue, and wears yellow-orange colored contacts. She also has only one tattoo, a small crescent moon on one of her shoulder blades. Ally often draws little crosses on the apples of her cheeks with a eyebrow pencil

Black Ink is chill with her. She can remove body parts and make humans look grotesque! I mean, it’s voluntary, but still! They’ve also been dating for a week, so there’s that too

Demencia adores what she can do. Body modifications?! Sign her up for teeth sharpening and tongue splitting!

Plug likes her. She was nice after he brought her a Java Juice cup, so yeah

8.9.8 doesn’t have an opinion on her. He’s just a dyed bear. But she likes him very much

[ericbroflovski]

i rant about kyman under the cut

i love kyman cause its like, so easy to imagine them getting older and suddenly having their rivalry turn into sexual tension and neither of them understanding how to deal with it and being in completely denial and choosing to believe that they are just pissing each other off so much and thats why kyles whole body tightens when cartman leans in to make some bigoted remark, and cartman realizing first that he has feelings for kyle and keeping them hidden bc he is sure kyle completely hates him and decides to keep provoking kyle cause thats the only way he thinks he can get his attention. its really obvious to everyone but kyle that cartman has feelings for him and both stan and kenny think its really pathetic bc they are sure kyle would never reciprocate. but then cartman convinces kyle to go shot for shot with him at a party and they end up getting really drunk and spending all night arguing about random shit and having passionate debates on different topics and cartman starts making some teasing remarks about kyle or something and kyle realizes that cartmans flirting with him. he has a total internal crisis about it for a second and then decides to see where it goes so he flirts back which totally shocks cartman so cartman gets really nervous and asks kyle to go outside to smoke a cigarette. so theyre outside and cartman is smoking and theres no one else around cause its a cold winter night and everyone else is inside. they can hear the bass thumping inside and kyle tells cartman how stupid he is for smoking and cartman asks kyle how he can be so closeminded since hes saying smoking is stupid without even trying it first (not since trying it when they were kids and had ‘unrefine palates’ as cartman puts it) so kyle relents and says hell smoke a cig and cartman puts it in his mouth and lights it for him playing it off like oh haha kyle is such a noob he needs me to light it for him but hes really just making an excuse to touch him. kyle smokes the cig and the two of them keep laughing and arguing about stuff outside when kyle complains about how cold it is outside so cartman suggests they go hang out at his place and ‘play video games or some shit’. they go back to cartmans house and stop arguing for a moment and kyle just feels this intense moment of sexual tension as they lock eyes when they’re both taking off their scarves and jackets. all of a sudden he cant stand it anymore and he almost runs to cartman and starts kissing him deeply, grabbing him by the back of the neck and pulling him closer and of course cartman is totally floored but starts kissing back enthusiastically, on the inside thinking ‘kyle is only doing this because hes fucking blackout drunk, hell wake up and wont remember it and wont want this to be a thing but you better kiss him now cause this is your only chance’ so they fall onto the couch and literally cant control themselves and they take off their shirts and are both completely hard just from touching each others bare skin. kyle kisses up cartmans neck and cartman makes all these super pathetic noises that kyle hates himself for finding incredibly hot. kyles phone buzzes from where it fell on the floor when they started making out but neither of them pay attention to it, but then someone knocks on cartmans front door and yells for kyle. its kenny who knows kyle doesnt usually drink and was supposedly babysitting him before getting distracted by a girl he was flirting with and losing track of kyle. kyle kind of sobers up for a second and realizes that he was just making out with and getting seriously turned on by eric fucking cartman and he freaks out and jumps off the couch and puts all his clothes back on while cartman starts asking whats wrong and telling him to chill tf out and making up all these reasons why kyle shouldnt leave. kyle stomps out of the house having a literal crisis and pushes past kenny who sees kyles clothes all askew and assume he and cartman got into an actual fight. cartman is thinking fuck fuck fuck since he thought he was prepared for this to be his one chance at making out with kyle but now since he hooked up with him once he is completely obsessed and

the next part of this thing would be like cartman in a series of totally outrageous cartman style shenanigans trying to put him and kyle into romantic situations to get kyle to reconsider never hooking up with him again. and in the end cartman just honestly admits to himself and kyle that he is legitimately in love with kyle and kyle gives him a chance and they live happily ever after

[quipadeedoodaa]

My good dude! This sounded like I wrote it and I had to second glance to be sure it wasn't me xD

I had this exact thought process plaguing me for years, til finally I got the nerve to start slapping more pronoun roles on myself in discords and... Man. It took a little while, since I'd been using she/her only in all the communities but it felt damn near liberating when folks suddenly started using he/him as the primary instead.

I don't honestly care about gender too much, it IS a construct, but some days and some places it's nicer to be reffered to by one instead of the other. Even when I never leave home, I tend to dress how I feel like presenting that day, and think of myself with those pronouns and it's really...a relief I guess is the best descriptor I got right now.

It even affects the way I carry myself, so even while at work in the general public, and being pretty well endowed, folks have been known to call me Sir.

Idk I think I lost where I was going with this, but basically these feelings are valid, and if you think maybe, then give it a shot! Slap all them pronoun roles on! Carry yourself with confidence of how you present that day! Gender's a construct! Construct what it means for you!

The worst that could happen is it ends up not being for you, and HEY! At least then you know

Just be careful if you live in a really closeminded area. Safety first, always. @n@

Alright, I'm probably just shouting to the void, but it's 1-ish am and I just want to go to sleep but this is keeping me up.

I've struggled more with how I identify, genger-wise, the past few years. Like, it's not like I have any problems with being identified as she/her, but then when people ask me to identify myself it feels weird just saying she/her. Like, I've always sort of been like 'I don't really give a shit what you call me, whatever floats your boat my dude' and I never felt a need to correct people if they thought I was a guy. Although it always felt kind of nice when people called me he/him or couldn't tell my gender (which hasn't happened since I was like, 11).

When I've tried to think about it before it's always sort of been like, because I've never really cared how I'm identified by people that must mean I'm cis right? But then, ignoring the fact that that doesn't feel quite right, I've grown up around a lot of cis people who absolutely lose their shit if you mistake their gender or, in my case, call girls things like 'dude' or 'bro' because I felt like those were pretty neutral terms, only to have said girls get royally pissed, even when I explained that I thought those terms were neutral.

I mean, there are definitely days where I feel more neutral, masculine, or feminine, but even if I feel/present as more neutral or masculine on a given day, I'm still very feminine-shaped, so it's not like people are going to call me anything but she/her. Which, on the one hand is kind of disappointing, but on the other hand, I'm not going to correct anyone because I don't feel the need to because I still don't feel any specific way.

It's less like 'today I feel like this,' and more like 'I feel like everything all the time but today I happen to want to present as more neutral.'

Basically, I feel like enough of an imposter already as a bisexual in the LGBT+ community, and I don't want to go out of my way to identify as anything other than female because I'm worried that I'm just a cis person who's convinced themselves that they're not and my brain just keeps going around in circles trying to figure this out.

Sorry this is really long. I'd do like a 'read under the cut' or whatever people do, but I still have no idea how to do that because I'm about as tech savvy as a cheese stick

Good night