10 LGBT+ Classic Rock Stars That Aren't Freddie Mercury, David Bowie, Or Elton John

10 LGBT+ classic rock stars that aren't Freddie Mercury, David Bowie, or Elton John

Pete Townshend

Pete is best known as the tall, short tempered energetic guitarist and writer of almost all of the songs by The Who. He was the member who came up with their trademark move of smashing the instruments at the end of each show, and became a voice for youth at the time with one of their many hits 'Talkin 'Bout My Generation.' He came out in his memoir as well as an interview in 1989, saying he was bisexual, and also said he identified as both a woman and a man, saying: "I know how if feels to be a woman because I am a woman, and I won't be classified as just a man."

Debbie Harry

Lead singer and writer for the band Blondie, she's a bisexual woman well known for her colourful taste in fashion and unmistakable voice. Her musical career started out in the punk genre but she is best known for writing and singing some of the most popular new wave songs including Heart of Glass, Call Me, and One Way or Another.

Janis Joplin

Often cited as the face of American blues, folk, soul and rock, Janis Joplin is WLW and had numerous relationships with men and women in her life. She was famed for her distinctive husky voice and powerful and captivating stage presence that left audiences stunned.

Dave Davies

The guitarist in 60s British invasion group The Kinks revealed he was bisexual in his autobiography in 1997. The more outgoing of the Davies brothers in the band, of which he had a difficult and fiery relationship with, Dave also experimented with makeup and women's clothing in the 60s and 70s. Many people claim his riffs were the very earliest beginnings of heavy metal.

Sir Ray Davies

Ray Davies wrote and sung most of The Kink's songs, including their most successful song Lola, which is about a transgender woman. Although quieter and more laid back than his brother, he does not have a quiet tongue either. His endless brotherly quarrels with Dave continue to this day, although they live next door to one another. He is MLM.

Kim Deal

As well as playing Bass for the late 80s indie rock band The Pixies and fronting the 90s band The Breeders, Kim Deal has studied and worked in cellular biology. She has said that she is asexual and also identifies as a feminist. Kim Deal has a unique philosophy in recording music, in that she uses no modern means of production such as digital recording, computers, and auto tuning.

Sister Rosetta Tharpe

Recognised as the inventor of rock and roll, Tharpe was a pioneer for combining blues and gospel to create a unique sound partnered with her electric guitar as early as the late 30s. She is WLW. Her relationship with Marie Knight became a controversial topic when it was discovered by the public, especially from her religious background.

Rob Halford

Singer and songwriter of the popular heavy metal band Judas Priest, Rob was initially uneasy about coming out as gay due to heavy metal's often homophobic following, but was surprised when he was overwhelmingly supported. He now calls himself the 'stately homo of heavy metal' and speaks openly about the ongoing struggles that LGBT+ people face.

Marc Bolan

In 1971, a tiny 5"4 Marc Boland performed in his band T-Rex on Top Of The Pops wearing glitter under his eyes. This is widely recognised as the starting point of the glam rock movement. He had relationships with men and women in his life, and came out as bisexual in 1975. He was Jewish and he became a style icon of the 70s for his corkscrew hair, colourful fashion and whimsical happy-go-lucky attitude.

Lou Reed

Lou Reed's infamously dry humour and deadpan voice set him apart from other rock stars of his time. As a child his parents put him in a mental hospital and he was given electric shock therapy to try and 'cure' his interest in men. He grew in popularity in the 60s as The Velvet Underground's lead singer and guitarist and went on to have a successful solo career, where he frequently wrote and sung about LGBT people. Reed is MLM and also Jewish!

haikyuu visuals & complimentary drabbles <3

fingers crossed this works,,, if you guys want a part two, i’m more than ready to deliver! :)

includes; miya atsumu, iwaizumi hajime, miya osamu, kozume kenma, suna rintarō, matsukawa issei, kageyama tobio, sakusa kiyoomi, aran ojirō, oikawa tōru, hinata shōyō

warnings; nsft links, breeding, degradation, rough sex, vaginal fingering, sex toys, handjobs, blowjobs, slight pain play (mention of a riding crop), public sex, squirting, smut

miya atsumu —

— when you said you wanted to try something a little different, atsumu wasn’t fucking expecting this. dressing him up like he’s your toy, your plaything? the bunny suit and ears had been enough, but then you’d went ahead and pressed a small bunny tail between his ass, nestled deep inside him and fuck, every time he so much as squirms he feels it move. it’s not as if this were against his consent, because you went out of your way to ask him if he was okay with everything happening every second you could.

he was the one saying yes. he was the one mumbling a timid green in response to you asking him what his color was, even though he was flushed red and thrumming and trembling with humiliation and embarrassment. atsumu didn’t hate this, not in the least. he wouldn’t be letting you get away with this if he did. he’s not embarrassed of the position he’s in— bent over your lap, bunny tail wedged between his ass cheeks, wrists tied before him.

he’s embarrassed because he likes it. he likes that he got all dolled up for you, and he likes that you’re having your way with him, smacking at his ass with a riding crop and it stings, it stings so fucking bad. he knows he’ll bruise, he knows it. and he knows the disregarded aching bulge between his legs is gonna make him a lot more pathetic the more you ignore it, but he wants you to. he likes this. he really, really fucking likes this.

iwaizumi hajime —

— there is no one in this world that knows you, knows your body, the way iwaizumi does, better than iwaizumi does. no matter how he has you, with his face buried between your thighs, or with cock filling you up, or, as the way you are now, with his fingers curled deep inside of you, he brings out the dirtiest noises from you, has your body shaking and your eyes rolling back.

it’s overwhelming, the pleasure that overtakes you when he touches you. he knows everything that makes you tick, that makes you squirm, that makes your body twitch. two of his fingers curl deeper inside of you, palm pressing flat against your clit, urging you to deepen the arch of your back. his other hand is occupied with your breast, fingers squeezing and pinching and rolling, nail grazing against the hardened bud. he praises you in the most degrading way possible, encouraging every noise you make but tutting disapprovingly with every disobedient rise of your hips.

even as your legs desperately try to snap shut, especially when he forces orgasm after orgasm out of you, he doesn’t let up. he lets you drench his palm, your underwear that he’d been too lazy to snatch off (that he most probably will tear through in a while), and the bed beneath you, and he’ll lose himself in the crossing of your eyes and the involuntary twitching of your body.

bokuto kōtarō + this

— if bokuto could spend the rest of his life like this, he'd be more than satisfied. your gummy walls are warm and sloppy and tight around him, swallowing and sucking him in with every thrust of his upwards. it's impossible for his chest not to tighten and for his heart not to spike up to his throat when he can hear the smack of his thighs against your yours, balls sloppily slapping against your ass as he grips and squeezes at your cheeks, spreading you and steadying you for him. or when you kiss him open mouthed, sucking on his tongue and moaning so loudly and freely against him. especially not when you wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your chest flush against, pulling back from the kiss to stare at him with dewy, hazy eyes and your tongue lolling out.

if bokuto could die like this, he would, because the moment you pull him close by the harsh of your arms looped around his neck, kissing him breathlessly and whimpering for him, begging him to fill you up till you're spilling his cum — he can't resist but to do exactly that.

his thrusts are quick paced and lacking rhythm, the only thing he chases is his high. you stay obediently still against him, your breasts flush against his chest, letting him fuck up into you, use your body the way he'd like to. and when he spills, it's so much, as it always is. he paints your walls white till it's leaking out from your stretched out cunt, but he doesn't pull out, only continues to fuck up into you, carefully slow.

miya osamu —

— if there’s one thing that osamu loves, it’s that no matter what position he has you in, he’s in control. even if he’s beneath you and you’re bouncing on his cock, you’re entirely dependent on him. you beg him for release as you grind your hips against him, feeling the hard ridges of his cock rub against your inner walls. even when you seemingly have all the control to pull yourself off of him and deprive him of pleasure, you do the exact opposite, bringing your arms beneath his and wrapping them tight around his figure, grinding your hips so desperately. he barely has to shift his hips up, or to thrust into you in any way, because you’re doing all the work, even if your begging proves otherwise.

whenever you cum like this, sitting on his lap with your chest flush to his, he feels every part of your orgasm. it starts out from the tightening and pulsating of your cunt around his hard cock, then it’s the trembling of your legs, the shaking of your arms, the uneven heave of your chest. he feels your wet mouth drool on his shoulder as you hiccup and sigh, rolling your hips to soothe the rush and high.

the best part is, you don’t stop. you never stop, even if your legs are shaking too hard, even if you can barely hold yourself up against him, even if your body aches and begs otherwise, you still bounce on his cock, juices from your past orgasms aiding in the slide and thrust of his cock within you. when he finally spills inside of you, he’s relatively quiet, broken groans and grunts as he buries his face in your chest, arms finally coming around to wrap around you and embrace you to him. he squeezes your frame so tightly to him as his balls and cock twitch and bob while he spills within you, filling you up just the way you like it.

suna rintarō —

— sometimes, suna can be described as insatiable. he doesn’t display this part of him often, preferring to appear nonchalant and unaffected. even if his legs are spread and his cock is straining against his jeans, his face remains impassive. uninterested even. but sometimes— sometimes he can’t help but want — or need — to show you his true appreciation towards you. you hadn’t pissed him off, hadn’t made him jealous, hadn’t provoked him.

he was just so fucking needy that he urged you into a bathroom stall the moment he could, tugging down at your underwear and clamping your legs close. by the time he’s sinking his cock into you, you’re just as needy, just as desperate to feel him inside of you. the first push inside is slow as he stretches you, allowing your cunt to accommodate his size and for your body to process the intrusion. your legs are shaking, a faint buzz in your ears as you hum appreciatively. it’s when he pulls out and thrusts back in sharply that you’re reminded of how suna truly fucks when he’s like this.

your mouth parts to let out a scream, but he reacts quick, hand pressing against your mouth and doing its best to muffle your screams. he’s quick as he fucks— you’re in a public bathroom after all— thrusts sharp and rough and harsh. it’s opposite to the way he handles you with care, kissing at your neck and praising you endlessly. he knows it’s probably more than obvious what the two of you are up to, but still, he shoves his fingers into your mouth and tells you to be good for him, be quiet for him, anyways.

kozume kenma —

— it’s nice, he thinks, the way you look right now. he doesn’t remember very clearly how you ended up like this, with your ass on his tummy, while you faced away from him. but he doesn’t mind. it had been innocent at first, just a way for you to get comfortable as you play on your switch while he watches his movie. mindlessly, his hands began to stroke at your thighs, simply resting there with his thumbs drawing uneven circles. then you squirmed, trying to get into a more comfortable position, and arching your back deeper, exposing more of your underwear to him.

still, he acts none the wiser, and his hands subtly trail upwards, higher, higher, higher. kenma likes to think he has incredible self control, and he’s desperate to prove so when his thumb just barely brushes against your pussy lips peaking from the corners of your panties. his eyes are focused on the movie on his laptop, and his cock isn’t even jumping with excitement at the feel of you. it is nice, he decides. the simplicity of it. the way he strokes at your folds through your panties, feeling you get wetter by the minute. you don’t twist and push at your hips, urging more of his touch. you just let him be.

and he likes it. nothing more, nothing less. just intimately touching you the way he would touch any other part of your body. yeah. he really likes this.

matsukawa issei—

— it occasionally overwhelms issei just how much larger he is than you, just how much more control he can enforce on you. it’s so easy, tossing you around and bending you at his will, that it burns his chest with unruly desire. the way you just take, take, take, and the way you beg for more, like you get off on the way he treats you just as much as he does. he likes the way he can simply use you, and you’d allow him. you’d fall in line so pretty, letting him grab at your body and manhandle you the way he’d like. it’s not that you don’t put up a fight, neither are you mannered or lacking brattiness and provoking wit.

it’s that despite all that, he still has you begging for him at the end of it all. despite your big talk and teasing remarks, he’s the one that has you on your knees before him, the one who grabs at your arms from behind you, forcing you steady as he fucks into you. he berates and degrades at you, fingers rough and bruising on your arms, pace and thrusts unforgiving, and you cry and sob and scream and heave— but throughout it all, you beg and beg and beg, “don’t stop.”

of course, he doesn’t. he fucks into you till you’re as limp as a rag doll, till your brain is so fuzzy and cloudy and your body is tired and aching that you have no energy to keep up with him. he pulls orgasm after orgasm out of you, and you shake and tremble pathetically through each one, just like he wants you to, just like he expects you to.

kageyama tobio—

— kageyama isn’t ashamed of his lack of experience. he’s been told time and time that it’s natural, and he himself believes so, especially because volleyball and his career had always been most important to him. sure, he enjoys kissing, and he likes it when somebody he’s physically attracted to pushes their body flush against his, but he didn’t know how truly deprived he was until he met you.

you’re a dream on his lap, holding all the reigns and control over the pace. there’s a bated breath stuck in his lungs as he watches you squirm, reaching for the hem of your skirt to lift it up. even though he should be used to your teasing by now, and he should stop being so taken aback at everything you do, should stop letting his breath hitch at the very sight of you, when his eyes meet your bare cunt, he freezes, and swallows thickly. and it’s not a secret that he’s painfully hard in his trousers, but he still flushes red and curves in on himself in shame when you free his cock, letting it stand stick straight against his clothed stomach, inches away from your cunt.

he’s been like this in front of you before. he’s kissed at your thighs and nipped at your clit and swallowed at your arousal, and his cock has bobbed in your throat and spilled onto your tongue and forced the dirtiest noises from you. still, when you nudge yourself forward, enough for your wet pussy to brush lightly against his shaft, he shivers and mewls.

at least he has it in him not to beg, because that would truly be pathetic. but still, he doesn’t doubt that you’re capable of doing just that.

sakusa kiyoomi—

— kiyoomi is a rather private person, he likes to believe. his thoughts remain locked away in his brain, fantasies and fetishes unbeknownst to everyone but him. it’s a little different with you, just slightly. he’s a lot less silent, a lot more expressive. you know more than he bargained for, especially, especially, what he likes and what he doesn’t. sometimes he lets you know himself, asking specifically if he can try something, and other times, you surprise him by somehow subconsciously knowing.

however, there are times where he surprises himself. he likes to think that he knows the ins and outs of himself. he knows what he likes and what he doesn’t. he knows his boundaries and limits. except, with the way you’re beneath him at the moment, he thinks that maybe, he’s a lot more clueless than he thought.

because you’re gushing, properly, wet spurts staining his arm and dampening the bed beneath you. your legs are shut close, as if you’re trying to push him away, as if you try to tell him you can’t take anymore, and honestly, kiyoomi is not sure why he can’t pull back. he‘s always avoided making too much of a mess, of you, of himself, of the area you‘re both in. but with the way you scream and your legs kick and your hips lift up, cum spraying and squirting all over him, he can’t help but fuck his fingers harder into you, curling them menacingly, even as you cry and heave and even as your cunt soaks him more, and more, and more.

he just can’t fucking get enough.

aran ojiro—

— all he can ever think around you is how cute you are. how innocent. how clueless. how naive. he doesn’t want to corrupt you— no, how could he ever corrupt such a sweetheart? he only wants to teach you, show you what you’re missing out on. and it isn’t like it’s one-sided. just as eagerly, you fist at his shirt and twitch on his lap as you kiss him, begging him to touch you, pleading him to pleasure you, because you know no one can, no one like him.

he makes you wait, for days and days and days. you trust in that he knows the right timing for everything, knows not to rush something like this. he wants to revel in every part of being with you before he takes this next step, and when finally, finally, he picks you up so easy, sits you facing away on his lap, and asks you to spread your legs— he has never seen you react so obediently to anything he’d said. you part your legs for him and melt in his embrace, mewling and sighing and shivering as he squeezes you to him, kissing at your neck and whispering sweet praises.

he makes it worth the wait. he tells you how good you are for him as his fingers sink into you, as his large hand kneads at your breast. you’re overwhelmed, never having been touched like this before, but it’s euphoric. absolute bliss.

oikawa tōru—

— if there’s anything you appreciate about tōru, aside his many attributes that you’d fallen in love with time and time again, is that he always gives his all, with everything. be it your birthday celebration, making your day better, or, as he likes to prove every day and is proving in this moment, sex.

he’s tired, exhausted even. after a long day at practice, overexerting his muscles and draining all his energy, what he should want most is a hot shower and a warm blankets to bury himself under. except, it’s not what ends up happening, not in the least. even with how tired he was, tōru still strips you bare, still bites and sucks and kisses all over your skin, still riles you up until you’re soaking and desperate, because he can’t leave you unsatisfied, ever. even if he’d been buried between your thighs just the night before, he can’t let a day pass by where he could’ve, but didn’t.

so he grips at your waist tightly with a large hand and fucks into you sharply, mouth latched onto your nipple, encouraging the writhe and tremble of your body beneath him. you’d already been so far gone before he’d even slipped his cock into your dripping cunt that it’s not a surprise your muscles are already tensing, hands reaching above you to grip at the sheets as you moan and pant and sob for him. and he accepts everything that you give him, just as he always does.

hinata shōyō—

— it properly, truly, takes hinata’s breath away the way you’re always so willing, so eager, to please him. he’s in love with the way you want him, lust after him. it fills his lungs with something alike love and desire, makes his tummy twist and his skin tingle.

just because, you drop to your knees before him. just because, your hands stroke at his cock and your lips wrap softly around the tip. just because, you swallow around him, hands squeezing at what you can’t fit in your mouth. you’re so generous with his pleasure, with the way you touch him, the way you force that tightness in his stomach and that eye rolling high. and when he asks you why, it’s always just because with a shrug. you want to, you want nothing more than to make him feel good. you don’t want anything in return, don’t expect it either.

you just like the feel of him in your mouth, the feel of him inside of you, the sight of his flushed face and disheveled hair and tense muscles. at least, you like it enough to get off it too, fingers buried deep in your cunt and rubbing at your clit as you suck on his cock, and when he cums down your throat, just the way you love, embarrassingly, you cum with him, legs twitching and cunt spasming around your fingers.

reckless [masterlist]

With a lackadaisical playboy as your boss, being reckless wasn’t an option. But on the one time you let loose and made mistakes, your life is shattered, and now you’re playing house with your insufferable boss who is the father of your baby.

⤿ overall cw. angst, accidental pregnany, unwanted pregnancy, infidelity, toxic situations, toxic characters, slow burn, psychological themes … 

⤿ update schedule. mondays & fridays (depends tho!)

⤿ taglist. OPEN

⤿ one  ✘  two  ✘  three  ✘  four  ✘  five  ✘  six  ✘  seven  ✘  eight  ✘  nine  ✘  ten

“almost funny”

synopsis: suna rintarou thinks you’re out of his league, and you think he’s out of yours.

tagged: general dumbassery, fwb-to-lovers, some profanity, sexual references but nothing explicit.

commitment level: 5.6k words.

It’s almost funny, really. It’s funny how what started out as a purely physical transaction has now transformed into a one way ticket to Simpville with the name Suna Rintarou stamped on it in big red letters. Suna runs a hand through his hair in frustration as he stares down at your sleeping form, curled up in his SF Giants tee that fits you like an oversized nightgown. He loves how you look there, wearing his clothes, bed head resting on his pillows. It’s almost embarrassing how much he loves it. How much he might love you. 

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Nanami Kento College Boyfriend Headcanons

hi hello it is almost 3 am and yes we are doing this. if this is incoherent by the time that i post it, then oh well. anything for nanamin :)))

i feel like Nanami would have the salaryman mindset in his first few semesters of college. similar to how he was in the anime when he worked at a corporation, nanami would just work all the time because he feels like he’s expected to

he doesn’t give himself time to just sit down and relax. he’s either in class, at his work-study job, doing homework, applying for jobs and internships, or networking. it’s mind-boggling how much he does

his roommate Gojo has literally never seen the guy smile or do anything for himself. he tries to invite Nanami out to parties or small get-togethers with his own friend group, but Nanami rejects his offer every single time. he just can’t make room in his schedule for all those distractions

it’s nearly finals week, and Nanami goes into super study mode… but so does the rest of campus. all of his favorite study spots are filled up, and he can’t concentrate with so many people chatting around him. Nanami can barely concentrate at home either. he’s so tired all the time that he’d be tempted to just nap in his own bed all day 

but then Gojo lets slip that he rented out a private study room in the ilbrary for the next five days. let’s be real. he probably flirted with one of the library employees to get it like the ho he is

and even if it’s Gojo offering, Nanami just can’t resist the idea of having a private study room. he agrees to it, and Gojo’s elated

gojo: wait really? i’m not dreaming right now? are you finally coming out of your shell?!

nanami: remember. i’m just there to study, not socialize. don’t get your hopes up

gojo: even then, i’m so proud of you nanamiiiiin~

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Somebody to You, Pt 3

Gojo x reader 

Angst to fluff. Suggestive and mentions of NSFW but no outright smut

Part One, Part Two

Author’s note: Thank you for all the love on my work. I still can’t believe anyone reads and likes my stupid little stories. ;-; This is the last part of this series but my requests are open so feel free to send anything in for JJK or even Naruto and Haikyuu. Also, please let me know how you like this part and if the ending is satisfying. Thank you again for everything! Sorry this is so long. 

Gojo tried to think about you and your new boy-toy as little as possible. He’d endured a whole month now of seeing you giggle on the phone, get flowers delivered to your office, and (worst of all) be covered in hickeys that peeked through your foundation. He found it so tacky of him to mark your neck, especially since Gojo knew you didn’t like it. Gojo kept himself busy with missions and his students so it was easy to steer his mind away from missing you. In the few times he did let himself fall into that rabbit hole, he couldn’t help but see how special this guy was to you. 

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