no makeup no pants no shame

There was a person I met in high school I still think about. He was an assigned male non binary person (he was using he/him pronouns at the time so that’s how I’m gonna refer to him) and he had a huge impact on me. Not because we were friends. I didn’t even know him and I can’t even recall his name now. But he introduced me to a concept that to this day I have only ever heard come out of his mouth but it still sticks with me.

He told me that in the trans/nb community there’s what he liked to call “assigned female privelage”. He told me that people born female are sort of allowed to play with gender. Even in the most conservative households there are tomboys and women wearing pants. It seems that women and people that are perceived to be women are allowed a little more freedom in playing around with gender, even in the most conservative settings.

Before I came out I bought t-shirts in the men’s department and walked around the house with my hair stuffed into a hat. And nobody batted an eye or became suspicious. He, on the other hand, was not in a position where he could do similar things. He couldn’t try makeup or wear women’s shirts. Even dressing in more feminine colors like light greens, yellows, and pinks made him nervous.

If an assigned male person wants to experiment with gender expression it’s difficult to do it subtly. Those of us assigned female can wear pants and t-shirts and even if we can’t cut our hair, pony tails pulled through a baseball cap are a sign of masculine womanhood and can at least give us something. We get something before we come out usually. We can refuse makeup and shaving in the name of feminism, find women’s clothes that resemble men’s, and go into the men’s section to buy soap while complaining about the pink tax.

But if someone that’s perceived as a boy or man wears makeup, puts on women’s jeans, or grows their hair out, it’s suspect. It’s funny. It’s shameful and needs to be put to a stop in the eyes of society.

I don’t know where that kid is now, if he ever came out to his family, or if he’s finally wearing what he wants, but I’m grateful to him. I’m grateful that he brought my attention to this. I had the ability before I came out to ease some dysphoria by wearing masculine clothes and baseball caps and hanging out with boys. And he and so many others never had anything like that.

ok we need to talk about the whole “attracted to people not genitals” thing
1. It’s coercive and rapey as fuck to imply women (because this is the most targeted demographic on this libfem hell) should not have a choice in whether they are attracted to males or not. Yes that includes transwomen. That includes anybody with a dick regardless of what they identify as. Sexual orientation is defined by biology and lesbian women are not obligated to like your dick regardless of whether you want to call yourself a woman or not.
2. People are very much attracted to other people based on genitals (aka sex aka whether they are male or female). This is biology and literally what sexual orientation means. Not everyone is bisexual and okay with swinging both ways. Leave women alone.
3. Reality works like this!! People have a sex from birth! They have a specific set of genitals! Romantic attraction and sexual attraction are usually based on personal preferences /within a set of socially constructed ideals/ which reflect on whether people present as male or female.
4. Stop shaming bisexual women (or people in general) for making the obvious distinction that men and women are different and its biology that distinguishes them. Pansexuality is just trying to feel special about being bisexual.
5. I don’t care if you’re a skinny girl with a pixie cut that calls herself genderfluid or a boy that wears makeup and heels. You have a genitals in your pants. Get over it. People can decide whether or not they like you solely based on your sex and they have EVERY RIGHT TO.

anonymous asked:

Can I request a BTS reaction when their are your roomates and they are crushing on you, and they accidentally walk in on you naked?

this was actually really hard for us bc were never naked bc we have brothers around this was probably harder than our cheating request

Nams: Walking around the house naked was not your idea of having fun. Ever. So when you found yourself without a towel or clothes after taking a shower, you knew it had all been set up by your best friend. It was the month of April and you and your loud mouth made the whole month of April the prank month. It’s like it says, the whole month you and your best friend could prank each other to your hearts contents. But this was pushing it. You pounded your fists on your bedroom door, which was locked.“[y/b/f/n]! OPEN UP! SERIOUSLY THIS ISN’T COOL!” Instead of opening the door, your friend just laughed it off. “THIS IS SERIOUS WHAT IF NAMJOON COMES HOM-” fuck. Turning around there he was, in all his glory, standing at the end of the hallway with wide eyes as he proceed the situation. “OPEN THE DOOR OPEN THE DOOR!!!” You yelled out in a different anxious tone as you tried to cover yourself up. “Jeez, what’s your damage?” Your friend asked as she opened the door only to find you in a mess as you pushed through the door into your room. “YOU DUMBASS NAMJOONS IN THE FUCKEN HALLWAY TOU ASS!” You yelled at your friend as you slipped on your clothes. “God I’m so embarrassed.” Little did you know that Namjoon found himself in an awkward position of trying to figure out when he would ask you out.

Originally posted by rm-olderfan


Yoongi: You never really liked being naked, maybe that’s why you never really had an intimate moment with anyone. Nonetheless, when you and your best friend, Yoongi, decided to move in together, your chances of really making a 360° on your opinion of being naked went out the window. There was just something comforting about having fabric wrapped around you, maybe you felt that way because it was the social norm, at least for women. So when you found yourself naked in the kitchen eating a slice of pizza, you wondered why. Oh right, that’s why. You never really felt sexy in your skin, it’s not like you absolutely hated your body or anything, there were just pieces that you didn’t like about yourself. Which gets you back on the topic, your friend had recommended that you have moments with your body, when you were just naked. It was a weird spiritual-mind thing, and you didn’t think it would hurt. Besides, your roommate was always out with his friends or at work so during the week you had the house all to your self. So when you turned around seeing him standing there in utter shock and with his eyes wide and mouth gaped open of the situation, you freaked. You face turned red as you dropped the pizza on the floor and bolted to your bedroom, locking it as soon as you walked in. To avoid the situation, you put on a random t-shirt and hid yourself under your covers contemplating your life decisions thar led up to this spectacular event. ‘you dumbass why would you do that? What made you think that was ok?’ So maybe you were loosing it, a lot. When you heard a knock on the door you let out a whine, “y/n, c-can we talk?” A soft voice that belonged to the one and only min yoongi hit your ears. “Please go away, I’m already embarrassed myself enough for one day.”“ Y/n, cmon everyone has a body, it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” you cringed at yourself as you buried yourself deeper into your bed. “Y/n cmon lets talk.” Yoongi said one more time, reluctantly, you got up and walked to the door. When you opened it, you couldn’t even look at him in the eyes, so you looked down at the floor instead. “Are-are you wearing my shirt?” His question almost startled you as you looked at your shirt and then at him. “I-I guess I am? I’m so sorry I’ll go chan-”“no, no it’s fine-god, uh” you’d never thought you’d see Yoongi this perplexed. “Would you, uh, do you wanna go on a date some time?”

Originally posted by royalfoodraider


Taehyung: ‘Alright tae today’s the day, you can’t keep beating around the bush my dude!’ Taehyung kept pumping himself up in the hallway of their apartment. “Why can’t I just ask them out???” He said as he ran his fingers though his hair in frustration. “It can’t be that hard!” He exclaimed before he ran down the hallway in search for you. Hyping himself up maybe was a good Idea in the moment but when he opened your door to find you getting ready to change clothes, all there in all your naked glory, he completely blanked. “OH MY GOD TAE GET OUT!” You said as you threw a pillow at his face before running behind your bed. “Kim taehyung please get out!” You whined out, Tae, finally snapping out of it turned around red faced. “Wow good job Taehyung! Now how are you going to ask them out?” He exclaimed thinking it was all in his head. “Woah woah wait- what?” You said as you grabbed your t-shirt and covered your upper body as you peeped from behind your bed. ‘Fuck’, “I said that out loud didn’t I?” He said as he refused to look at you. You stumbled as you quickly put on your pants and stood behind him. “You dork!” You said as you wrapped your arms around him, “I mean you already saw me naked, I’d be a shame if I didn’t go out with you.” You didn’t need to see his face to know that his goofy, beautiful, signature smile was plastered on his face.

Originally posted by taesscripts


Jin: running late was never your style, running late with makeup, hair and no dress on was totally not your style. Your friends had invited you to a night out and since it was a Saturday you decided going out wouldn’t do much harm. Nothing wrong with a girls night out. But of course you decided to start getting ready 30 minutes before your friend picks you up, real sly. Sadly, time was not on your side, as you scurried around the cubicle apartment, searching ever nook and cranny for your pink satin dress.
“Ughhh, SHIT, where is it?!” You whispered screeched after demolishing your closet, making it look as if a monsoon had occurred. Placing your hands on your hips (and away from your which had taken you nearly an hour to straighten), you tapped your foot and started thinking about where was the last time you saw your dress.
“Ok, first I left the house after Jin cooked breakfast, I finished class around 3:30 then went straight to the boutique to pick up my dress.” You thought long and hard. “And then I came home and showed Jin my dress—"
Cue the record scratch. Jin. JIN.
Without even realizing it, you stomped into Jin’s room, without even bothering to knock or throw some clothes on, and caught him playing some Mario Kart. Ha, very typical.
Jin looked up from his game when he heard a loud bang, only to drop his controller, jaw going slack.
“Y/n,” he said. “What are you, doing?”
You watched as his eyes trailed down your half naked form, a pink blotch spreading across his checks.
You cleared your throat, “ahem, my eyes are here, remember?”
Jin snapped his head back up, although his pupils looked like they were shaking. “What happened, shouldn’t you be getting ready.”
“I was,” you sighed in exasperation. “But it seems as if I’ve misplaced my dress.” You suddenly arched a brow at your roommate. “You wouldn’t have happen to seen it, would you?”
Jin tapped his chin in thought. “I remember you showing me, but that was the last time I saw it.” He looked up, noticing the suspicious glare you were throwing him.
“Hey! I swear, I didn’t touch anything. Cross my heart!”
You tapped your foot impatiently and crossed your arms. Opening your mouth to reply, you noticed something wedged beneath his bed, something pink.
“Uh huh, then why do I see a wad of pink under your bed?”
Jin looked over his shoulder, then back to you. “Um, everything in this room is pink,” he stated a matter of factly, gesturing to the pink rug, pink duvet, pink blanket, pink bathroom.
Well, looks like he caught you there.
Shoulders slumping in defeat, YOU heaved another sigh. “Alright, you’re off the hook. But what am I gonna without my dress?” You gestured to your bare torso, causing Jin to blush again.
He cleared his throats awkwardly and stood up. “Um, maybe you can borrow a dress from Hoseok’s sister. I mean she lives right on the first floor. Besides! She’s a model, I’m pretty sure she’ll have some dresses that’ll compliment your just fine!”
Your heart skipped a beat at that statement. Straightening up, you threw Jin a smile, before turning on your heel and walking into your room to get changed.
One hour later, Jin found himself indulging in his game when he heard his phone buzz. Picking it up, his heart fluttered when he saw a picture of you on a beautiful turquoise dress that was not too sexy, but made you look even more beautiful.
Underneath was a text: thanks Jin, I owe you one!!
Smiling to himself, Jin shut off his phone. Then, without even realizing, he reached under the bed, only to pull out a plastic bag and hanger they held the pink dress.
“It was a close one,” he laughed.

Originally posted by jungkookiescookies



Jungkook: Rooming with Jeon Jungkook definitely had its ups and downs. Face cleaners would sometimes go missing, shampoo bottle were often left half empty and there was the occasional tripping over timberlands—"swear to god Jeon Jungkook, if you don’t use the freaking shoe rack I’m kicking you and your sorry ass out of here!“ On the upside, Jungkook had a knack for singing in the shower which, while you wouldn’t admit it, was as quiet soothing. So yeah, Jeon Jungkook was full of surprises. Mostly good ones…
Mostly.
Jungkook stood in front of y/n, eyes wide open like a deer caught in headlights as he stared at her, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans and an unclipped that was (thank heavenly) held by her arms. Y/b bore the dame expression, cheeks turning into a soft tint of pink. The two held eyes contact with one another for another minute or so, until Jungkook finally found the on button for his legs and started walking towards the shared closet. Digging through his side, which was (surprise surprise) nothing but white t-shirts, Jungkook grabbed a clean looking one, strode over to y/n and held it out for her, avoiding any sort of contact.
“Here. Take it,” he mumbled.
Y/n stared at the shirt, then back to Jungkook. “What, really? You’re lending me your shirt?”
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Don’t want you to get a cold.”
Noticing the tinge of red on the maknae’s cheeks, y/n accepted the shirt, careful not to drop her bra, and watched as Jungkook exited the room, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly After one silent minute, y/n pulled the white shirt over her head, laughing as it reached her thighs.
From behind the door, Jungkook leaned against the doorframe, cheeks red from embarrassment. “Way to go Jungkook, there goes your chance of asking y/n out for a date.” He blew a puff of air. “At least she looked cute in my t-shirt.”
Yup, mostly good surprises.

Originally posted by askmeifimadalek


Hoseok: “Yah! Y/n!” Hoseok hollered from the dressing room adjacent to the one y/n was using. “Are you almost done, I’m hungry!!”
“Just one more dress, Hobi,” you replied, holding another dress in front of your body.
“That’s what you told me fifteen second ago!” Hoseok stomped his foot like an antsy child waiting for his mother.
With a huff, Hoseok marched back and forth, hands in his pocket, hoping to pass the time.
Why did he think it was a good idea to let y/n take him dress shopping with her? She could’ve gone with anyone. Anyone with more interest. Like Jin. He probably owned a couple dresses himself.
Sighing once more, Hoseok stared at the curtain that separated the two of them. Still, he couldn’t deny the last two hours of just watching y/n try on a dozen dresses and modeling for him was kinda fun. Every time she walked out sent nervous jolts down his spine and butterflies in his stomach. She looked beautiful in all of them, but obviously he wouldn’t say that.
Yet.
Looking down, Hoseok noticed that the strings of his laces were untied. As he bent down to lace them up, the hood of his jacket suddenly caught the hook attached to the bar holding the curtain up. “Huh?” Hoseok tugged at the hook. When it wouldn’t budge, he started twisting around in hopes of getting his hood loose.
“Come on, let go—whoa!” Suddenly loosing his footing, Hoseok came crashing down onto the floor in a heap of tangled limbs and a broken curtain. Groaning softly, Hoseok looked up and flushed fire truck red. Y/n stood there, in all her glory with a red dress pulled half way over her torso. From this angle, Hoseok caught a glimpse of her lace under…
“I’m so sorry!” He cried, hands flying comically over his eyes as he jumped to his feet and sped walk out the room, curtain dragging behind him.
Y/b blinked twice, watching Hoseok scurry away and was now hiding amongst the mannequins. Shaking her head, y/n changed back into her normal clothes and went up to the cashier to buy the red dress Hoseok had seen her in. Well, seen her taking off.
But hey, buyers can’t be choosers…unless you’re a clumsy fool named Jung Hoseok. A cute clumsy fool.

Originally posted by park-jimizzle


Jimin: Y/n lugged around a heavy basket of laundry, bending over to pick up clothes that were scattered here and there, courtesy of Park Jimin and his lazy-afternoon-lounge-around-the-house kind of mood. Shaking her head in amusement, y/n huffed, carrying the pile of clothes over towards the closet slash washing room. As she walked into the leaving room, she suddenly ran into a small table, causing a vase of roses to fall of the ledge. Luckily, thanks to quick reflexes, y/n dropped her basket and caught the vase in the nick of time, however, as a result, a big splash of water soaked her white (why she chose to wore white is a mystery) blouse, making it see through.
Y/n released a groan. One more addition to her ever growing laundry pile. Yippee. Mind you, most of it happened to be Jimin’s. With a sigh, y/n grabbed the hem of her shirt and started tugging it off. However, what she didn’t hear was the sound of the lock turning and the door opening, followed by a “y/n, I’m home—OH MY GOD!!”
Y/n looked up, flushing mad red when she came face to face with none other than Park Jimin, who stared at her with wide eyes, lips pulled into a straight line. She also notice how his pupils seem to waver, as if he was trying to keep his eyes from wandering…oh shit, y/n thought, realizing that she had spent thirty full seconds flashing Jimin with her lacy bra donned chest. SHIT.
Y/n reacted face, groping for the clothes from the laundry basket and pelting them at her roommate. “PARK JIMIN, AVERT YOUR EYES. SHOW SOME COURTESY.”
“You were the one flashing though,” Jimin’s muffled voice resounded.
Y/n released a high pitched whine, stomping out of the living room in pure embarrassment.
Once the coast was clear, Jimin pulled the pair of boxers off his face. He looked down, noticing a puddle of water as well as the toppled vase y/n had dropped, along with the roses. Jimin sighed. Grabbing a paper towel from the kitchen, Jimin cleaned up the mess and set the vase back into place.
“Crap…” he mumbled. “I didn’t even have a chance to give y/n these.” He peeled the plastic casing from the tulips he had bought earlier for y/b and placed them into the vase.
Jimin scratched the back of his head. “Maybe next time I should do chocolates. No shirt?” No shirt.

Originally posted by bangtan

-Pheo and sara

The True Meaning of “Punk” Ch. 1

Pairing: Dan/ Phil; Phan
Genre: High school AU; chaptered
Warning: NSFW (see tags for more specifics)
Word Count: 3029/ ?
Summary: It is Dan’s last year of sixth form and he is ready to just say ‘fuck it’ and be himself for once. He meets a sinfully attractive (but actually dorky) uni student named Phil who helps him in his quest to embrace and express himself. 
Notes: This is a work in progress and will be updated regularly (It will help if I have some people cheering me on!). This isn’t going to have a lot of complex plot, honestly. I just want Dan to… explore.
Tags: smut, fluff, high school AU, university AU, slight age difference, pastel!Dan, punk!Phil, drinking, eventual kinkiness, sub/dom, bdsm, daddy kink, feminization, mild homophobia (some of which will happen during sex), pain play

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Super Fun Day

A long summary of my day:

–Alternate between extreme nausea, fatigue and dizziness

–My Stomach Hurts: An Autobiography in Three Parts

–Make futile attempt at productivity at work; surrender to dry heaves and leave early. 

–Get email. Panic. Oh, God.

–Got my first voice over audition via email. It’s due tomorrow.

–Momentarily excited. Holy cow, it’s finally happening! It’s–

–Oh, God, I’m going to throw up.

–Suppress nausea

–Drive home

–Three accidents on the freeway; anxiety now at boiling point. Am vibrating in my seat and letting out noises akin to whistling of tea kettle.

–Arrive home. Collapse in bed. Sweating profusely. Something smells vaguely of tuna. Sincerely hope it is not me.

–Update: It is.

–Wake up from nap I didn’t realize I’d taken. Four hours later.

–Shoot out of bed; Oh, God, the audition!

–My Stomach Still Hurts: The Riveting Sequel to the #7 New York Times Bestseller

–Set up recording equipment. Okay, I can do this. I can do this. What the hell is that tuna sm–I can totally do this. Yeah! I got this! I can–

–…………………………………..

–……………………………………………………………….

–Recording equipment not working. Broken? Don’t know. Wiggle a few parts. No sound. Check connectivity. All good. It has never done this before. Check computer. 

–Computer lets out low, mournful beep and dies.

–No. No, no. No, no, no.

–Wrangle with wires. Check condition of recording equipment. All good. Probably. Possibly not. I have absolutely no idea what I am doing. I am a fraud. Throw me in the stocks; shame me in the streets, set your hounds upon me.

–Computer turns back on! Hallelujah! I’m saved! I’m–

–”Now updating Windows. Your computer will restart several times. This may take a while.”

–…………………………………………………………………..

–Let out a pterodactyl shriek. Cue hysterical sobbing. Nausea naturally worsens. I no longer care. The feeble, analytical part of my brain raises an eyebrow and hums in disapproval. I kick it in the balls, hurl myself into my bed, and continue to sob. “This is it,” I think. In my mind, my voice is appropriately tragic and not nasally at all. “This is it; that was my one chance, and I have blown it. I have blown it to tiny, tiny pieces. I will never find work again. I will starve in the streets. My acting career is over before it has even begun. Farewell, cruel world. You always knew I was an impostor, destined for failure; an impostor, I say, twelve ferrets standing on top of each other beneath a long coat cleverly masquerading as a capable adult.”

What the heck is wrong with you? Like what the actual hell? Analytical Me cries from the back of my brain where it lies sprawled helplessly on the floor, balls throbbing. I have not sobbed like this in at least a year and a half. Belatedly realize that I have been bottling this up for at least a year and a half. This is not just about the computer. Little things have been nicking at the floodgates and they have suddenly burst: financial crap, life crap, anxiety and depression crap, trying-to-get-my-shit-together crap, will-nuclear-war-accompany-my-morning-coffee-tomorrow? crap. Snot flows freely. I wail. What is this quintessence of dust? “Windows is still updating. Do not shut off your computer.” 

–Concerned family rushes in. They are met with wailing that puts La Llorona to shame. La Llorona experiences burning secondhand embarrassment as she takes in the spectacle of me, devoid of pants, snot streaming and makeup smeared, curled in on myself and writhing on the bed. 

–Assure my concerned family that I’ll figure it out, really, that my life is just falling apart at the seams and I may have blown my first shot at an actual acting job and my stomach is a mess and explosive diarrhea has been waiting in the wings ALL DAY FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, JUST EVACUATE MY BOWELS, ALREADY.

–Concerned family slowly backs out of the room, along with La Llorona, who looks like she’d literally rather be anywhere else in the entire world, including Costco on Black Friday.

–Cry for approximately forty five minutes. Computer still updating. May flights of devils wing you to your rest, Windows.

–Clean up. Eye twitching. Attempt to connect two other computers. Does not work. Of course not. Disney lies. Life is terrible.

–Stare at wall for ten minutes, my own cries ringing hollowly in my ears, feeling more and more like Hamlet except I actually do shit instead of listening to Simple Plan alone in my room for five acts.

–”Do not shut your computer off,” the blue screen says. Rules are for the weak. Jaw set firmly–more to prevent myself from vomiting than out of stony resolve–I push the power button. Hasta la vista, motherf–

–Computer struggles to turn back on. I uselessly fiddle with the audio equipment. Pace the floor. Dart in and out of the bathroom. Goodbye, everything I have ever eaten. Thank you so much for coming out all at once.

–Computer beeps. What?

–It’s alive. 

–IT’S ALLIIIIIIIIVE

–Tentatively, gingerly plug it in to sound system. Gingerly test audio equipment. Not working still.

–Don’t panic. Do not panic. Do not. You already did that.

–Analytical Me takes the reins. Flips some switches.

–……………………………….It’s working. The sound equipment is working.

–Start crying again.

–This is a disaster, honestly.

–At this point, it’s really quite unnecessary. 

–Through tears, I record some test spots. Disastrous. Phlegmy.

You have to calm down. This one thing right here is fine. Other things are not fine, but this one thing right here is f–BATHROOM. NOW.

Return, feeling mildly like I’ve ascended to a different plane of existence. Also feeling slightly better?

–Power through audition spots. Retain little to no memory of it. Edit and send off the files. I am a mess, but I have done it. I have done the deed. I have honored God and my country with my 30-second commercial spot.

–Numbly sit and stare at the wall. Boyfriend has called to offer reassurance and updates on his dog. Always makes me feel better. He is a good boy. He understands that I continually have to fight off Nietzsche’s creeping abyss, which is generally all up in my business even though I’ve told it politely to back up outta my crib, please. Boyfriend offers his condolences and recounts similar experiences. We laugh about nihilism together. I am immensely fond of him.

–My dog comes in, concerned. Aw, hey, little buddy. Sorry I was crying. Did that upset you? Are you gonna give me kisses? Yes you are! Yes, you–!

–Dog squints, then leaves. Strong smell unfurls in my nostrils. I look down. His butt juice has leaked onto my fresh sheets, the fluid imprinted onto the cotton in the shape of his anus.

–I blink. Stare at it.  Lay down on the floor, face down, all sound curiously muffled. 

–I am done with today.

–In the hallway, my dog burps. 

Overcome (’95 Line Hogwarts AU Foursome Smut) (Part 3/?)

Summary: The after math of crazy night in the Hufflepuff common room has Jeonghan looking back on what (seemed) to be some much simpler times in his life. You, however, are trying to keep your head out of all the nonsense. But some amazing or terrible advice from a good friend and Seungcheol dangling his terribly amazing self in front of you makes things go downhill very, very quickly. Hogwarts AU. (Light) Smut.

(A/N: first of all, everyone on this blog is so sweet it’s giving me a toothache. your support, and your love and caring is probably the only motivation i had to really finish this. i love writing this and i love how it turned out, but it was so long and strenuous, you guys really helped me to the finish line. the whole ‘making out with your friend and it’s not gay’ thing is mildly inspired by Glee, cause yeah, i used to watch that back in my day, and yeah Britney and Santana was my shit. a couple of warnings: gayness, (despite the chapter title) mild gay sex, boy on boy kissing, a lot of fluff, very, very mild daddy kink, a little bit of angst. so if you’re not comfortable with any of that, please don’t read. also, whooo it finally has a title. the title is inspired by the Nu'est song because i love that song so so much, and that song is about magic and shit, but it’s also about love. and i just love the word overcome as a title because i feel like they all overcome so much to be with each other in the story. okay, enough crap, on with the reading. -Tanisha<3)  

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 

Part 3: Obliviate 

It was coming up on the second full week since the incident in the Hufflepuff common room, and Jeonghan was a mess. A nervous wreck, that is to say. Being left on the couch with his own cum in his pants and yours still wet on his fingers had been like a dream, but what came after the both of you did made it more like a nightmare. When people say you’re not supposed to fuck your friends, this is exactly what they mean.

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Innocence

Directed by: Joss Whedon

Written by: Joss Whedon

Starring: Sarah Michelle Gellar, Alyson Hannigan, Nicholas Brendon, Anthony Head, Charisma Carpenter, David Boreanaz, Seth Green, Robia La Morte, Juliet Landau, and James Marsters


Welcome to episode fourteen, which should be called Men are Dogs, Love is Bullshit, but Cardigans Never Let You Down.


Outfit 1

Someone call the doctor, because Dru looks sick as fuck.


Oh, and Angel is evil again because gypsy curses and guys. I am very tired and it’s been so long that I have no energy to discuss the fact that Joss Whedon is a dirtbag (’allegedly’) and this whole ‘moment of perfect happiness’ thing bothers me more and more the older I get. I’m assuming it’s supposed to be the whole monsters as metaphor for standard teen experience for now until I’ve had more protein or whatever.


Technically this is her outfit from last episode. I don’t like the pants. Also I’m not going to refer to this as a walk of shame because it’s a phrase that’s designed to make women feel like shit and it’s bullshit and turns out I have just enough energy to say that.


Also I would feel no shame if my hair and makeup looked like that after her night. I fucking love her season 2 hair.


Outfit 2

I am living for this outfit. I would still wear this every day. Every. Day. EVERY. DAY.


Jenny’s wearing beige, so we know she’s up to no good. Willow is amazing, as fucking ever. Xander is the worst, as fucking ever.


I wanted this cardigan. I wanted it so much. Cardigans were big in the late 90s and they deserve all of the acclaim they received and continue to receive. I am still committed to cardigans. I have about three at work now. And a shit-tonne more at home.


 Buffy means bidness this ep. It’s all french rolls, sensible pants and knee-high boots.


I hope this is a weird lighting effect on the pants.


Willow has this Adidas backpack so it’s all going to be ok.


Guess who’s back? Back again? Angelus is back. Tell a friend. No, but seriously, tell a friend because they need to take precautions. He’s not just a vampire, he’s a total psycho. And a piece of shit.


Outfit 3

I had this shirt or something like it. And I can guarantee it never fit properly so I probably didn’t wear it. I’m also sure I bought mine from Jay Jays.


You know it’s a dream because it looks like that part in Vertigo when Scottie follows Madeleine around San Francisco.


I bet I tried to wear black pants and boots with it as well. But not knee high boots, because… well, I don’t like to talk about it. Ok, it’s because my calves are too fat.


This is Buffy’s ‘proof’ Jenny is a lying liar. It’s also further proof she’s a babe.


Outfit 4

Our girl is pissed. Because gypsies. And curses. And dudes. And wearing crosses given to you by dudes who turn into pieces of shit when you have sex with them. And for people who lie to Giles and make him sad.


Buffy does some invettigation (I hope there was quiet, please) with Giles and there are dead gypsies and messages on walls in blood.


Piece. Of. Shit


So Xander’s apparently useful this episode and is getting a weapon for Buffy to use against the Judge or whatever. I guess these guys are lookouts for Xander and Cordy? I don’t actually care, I just want to point out how adorable Willow is.


Also, how old is too old to be adorable like this? Asking for a friend who is definitely not me and definitely did not just turn 35.


Did Cordelia hit her head before getting dressed?


I hate Xander. I hate that he’s the ‘nice guy’ and I hate that he hurts Willow and I hate the way he treats Cordelia and I hate the way he speaks to Buffy and I hate how much I love that shirt.


So Angelus and Dru and the Judge hit up the mall because humans be shoppin’, humans. Be. Shoppin’


This is the least convincing shopping mall location I’ve ever seen. Or is it meant to be a cinema in a mall? Fuck, man. I feel like I can’t trust my own eyes, or brain, any more.


Buffy has this bazooka or whatever and it kills the Judge (I think) and then she has a super dramatic face-off with Angelus.


She looks fierce but you can tell she lacks the conviction to do this right now. But she has just enough conviction to beat the shit out of Angelus. 


Outfit 5

Two generations of pairing white track pants with white socks. And it’s beautiful.


Next up, werewolves (not swearwolves).


Originally posted by afterthebattle

Giles forever, other guys never.


Until next time, Slayerettes.

Femininity is Compulsory

Don’t tell me femininity is a choice. Today I shaved my legs for the first time in half a year and wore makeup for the first time in a year. In a dress, with shaven legs and mascara I didn’t feel confident, empowered, or beautiful; I felt drained, exhausted, and defeated. But I knew if I wanted to be taken seriously when interviewing for a job I didn’t have a choice.

Don’t tell me women aren’t shamed for not conforming to femininity. Every time I leave the house wearing shorts my mom asks if I’m sure I don’t want to shave my legs. Random men have laughed at me on the street. I’ve had a professor tell me that it wasn’t appropriate for me to have hairy legs at a formal event. I’ve been told I shouldn’t wear a suit with pants, that I really should “do something” with my hair. I’m constantly being described as looking tired, washed-out, and “not put together” since I stopped wearing makeup.

Don’t tell me your eyeliner is feminist or “smashing the patriarchy”. Women are payed less and discriminated against for not wearing makeup. Entire industries are based around making women feel insecure to sell them that same eyeliner. How is complying with exactly what the patriarchy wants going to dismantle it?

Femininity is compulsory in this society. Don’t tell me otherwise when you have never experienced what it’s like to not conform.

Our Last Few Years (High School AU) - Circe

AN: Thank you for the AMAZING feedback, you guys are too much! It’s also really interesting to see where you want this fic to go, and right now my ideas are starting to take shape, but I reckon if there’s an overwhelming desire for an alternative direction, I’ll make it work!

So we’re all ok with gender/sexuality-bending? Good. I’m trying to write as in-character as possible, so please bear with me.

Third chapter is party chapter, and is almost written, so should be up soon!

-       Circe x

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i hate posts like “women can wear pants and have short hair and men are shamed when they wear makeup and dresses IT’S OBVIOUSLY BECAUSE OUR SOCIETY HATES FEMININITY THAT’S CLEARLY THE MAIN SOURCE OF MISOGYNY” like …. do you know how hard women had to fight for all of these things? why do you think they were “traditionally masculine” in the first place?? women couldn’t wear pants or smoke or drive and they FOUGHT for it and i will not  dismiss their fight by pretending that being a masculine girl is absolutely a-okay in this fucking society

So Tyler wore a dress to his show and looked amazing and people are getting mad and making fun of him over it ???
TBH get the fuck away from my blog if you’re gonna insult any man for wearing a dress
Girls wear pants constantly and those are “traditionally” men’s clothing so if you’re gonna shame a guy for wearing a dress better start shaming girls for wearing pants too you heartless hoes
Tyler looked adorable as fuck as always and Josh wears eyeliner and eye makeup all the time so maybe calm the fuck down you judgemental ass people

anonymous asked:

Carmilla was bound and held captive for nine days or more So who unbuttons her pants when she needs to pee ? Laura ?

Do vampires pee? A few weeks ago, I would have said that vampires don’t have periods, but that turned out to be false. I don’t understand why or how. They can’t get pregnant. 

Can they? 

I know it’s possible in some vampire mythologies. (I’m thinking of the Underworld series, not Twilight by the way.)

And it wouldn’t be just Laura unbuttoning her pants, since the girls watched Carmilla in shifts. (Also, that would mean Danny would be routinely telling her Sisters, “Ladies, I’ll be spending the next four hours in Laura’s room if you need me.” None of them dared bother her.) 

I expect vampires don’t pee then. Not only would they have to unbutton her pants; they’d have to get them off. Her leather pants. And then they’d have to get them back on for modesty’s sake. She was tied to the chair. How would they do any of this, much less sit her on the chair? 

Plus there’s the very gross point that if vampires do pee, Carmilla when she was buried underground would have been urinating in her food supply. Yuck. 

Other bodily function thoughts: Does vampires hair grow out? Most fiction implies it does so that they can style actors’ hair as necessary. But… does that mean Carmilla had a nine days’ growth under those leather pants? Just asking the hard questions. I mean, we know she was baby-smooth right before, because she expected to be shedding those pants within the hour that first night. 

What about her pits? She was wearing a corset. Are we thinking the dimwits starved her, but took the time to pull out the razor for her dignity’s sake? Oddly enough, I can see that happening. LaFontaine might do it solely to nick Carmilla for the blood sample and healing experiment.

(Side note: I don’t mean to shame anyone who chooses not shave their body hair. But Carmilla does not appear to be one of those people.)

Did someone wash off her eye makeup?  

Did her eyebrows grow out? Did Laura pluck them? Or Perry? (I can’t see LaFontaine or Danny volunteering for the task.) What about as a torture technique. 

Did she get eye boogers?

Was she ever so hungry that her fangs extended instinctively? Were they the central incisors, lateral incisors, or the cuspids? I dearly hope it was the last one, because any fiction where it’s anything but the canines is just wrong. 

Did the garlic do anything

Did they try using holy water or crosses on her? 

I think the takeaway from all of this is that there’s a reason the Geneva Conventions exist. 

“Dress Rehearsal” - Darren/Mia

Darren in fishnets, a skirt, and boots.  Pegging.  That’s it.  That’s the fic.

It’s not right after, though a part of him wants it to be.  

She’s out with friends, and he does six things in the space of time that it would take someone else to do one or two.  He’s just about to accept an invitation to drinks when the hotel door opens—they normally have other places to crash, but the room is paid for and it’s central to their interests and why the fuck not, he’s on Broadway, man—and he’s still in a skirt, fishnets, and heels.  He’s been practicing turns and crouches and kicks because if he doesn’t keep moving he’s going to come out of his skin.

“Method,” she growls, low and somehow sweet at the same time, puts down her bag, kicks off her shoes, and exhales in satisfaction as she whips off her shirt and bra, “badass, babe.”

He’s been a vibrating, needy mess all evening, thinking about her out with her friends, in a crush of familiar bodies, thinking about her lips and her tits and the way her mouth curls around a cocktail straw and her laugh after she’s bummed the cigarette that she tries to only smoke socially now but can’t resist when she’s drinking.  But sitting there on the end of the bed with his stocking-clad legs spread wide open and the skirt stretched between them, watching her come out of the bathroom in just her panties, there is only one really solid thing on his mind.

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Confession: Women blaming/shaming

I wish people would stop this culture of blaming women for how men treat them. My sister and cousin are really going to sit here and blame me for the fact that a dude I met in class and tried to be FRIENDS with couldn’t take a hint at the fact I was not romantically interested in him .

This dude continued to flirt with me and tried to get into my pants multiple times and became borderline obsessive. “Well that’s what you get for always wanting to wear booty shorts and caking your face with makeup”, “that’s what you get for not knowing how to be rude” , is what my sister told me. Like what the fuck? So I’m supposed to cover up every inch of my body, not wear makeup, and be rude to boys in order to be treated with respect and not attract P.O.S males?

I can’t help the fact that someone decides to take romantic interest in me nor can I help the fact that genuine kindness is apparently so rare in today’s world that so many men seem to think that just because you are friendly to them means that you want to sleep with them.

Like when are we going to start placing the responsibility on these males? When are we going to start telling these males “no means NO”? When are we going to start reminding these males that a girl is more than her pussy? Most importantly when are we going to start telling them that a friendship with a woman DOESN’T have to be anything more than just a friendship?

I’m so annoyed 🙄