![anon gay creampie porn anon gay creampie porn](https://i.redd.it/60lt4j871uh01.png)
![anon gay creampie porn anon gay creampie porn](https://64.media.tumblr.com/76cf7d85e9867a9d096beb4e2fecb359/4c3b149f09f4e72a-07/s400x600/3f1ed1fe346952ba4a46cb1e3b29c7c2c0e9c38c.gif)
They accumulate both our cultural and literal capital they gain buzz and caché and glossy magazine profiles they get bigger roles and bigger paychecks. The celebrities we choose to uplift reap our time and our attention and our clicks and our money. We help their interview clips go viral we see their movies in theaters then stream them at home we loudly cheer their awards season campaigns on social media. And as fans, we invest in the celebrities we love. Our faves are us, basically, just in that creepy sexy lady Snapchat filter. Rather, I mention it as a reminder to myself, and to you, of an unfortunate yet undeniable fact: Heterosexuality is an overwhelmingly common trait for our so-called gay icons.Ĭelebrity fandom is really just a bizarro reflection of ourselves: who we are, what we value, who we want to be, and, sometimes, who we want to fuck. I don’t mention this to detract from her portrayal of queer characters, nor to argue straight people shouldn’t play gay characters, nor to discount the possibility of her coming out later in life. Not just straight, but married-to-James-Bond-level straight. Weisz (and Colman) went viral simply (and adorably) for saying “gay rights.” Back in 2009, Weisz had told Vanity Fair Español, “I want to be a lesbian icon.” She apparently got her hands on a copy of The Secret, because a decade later, it was so.īut there’s one thing about Weisz we don’t like to talk about: As far as we know, she’s straight. Her red latex Givenchy gown at the Academy Awards became queer canon. (It was like a horny, competitive creative writing exercise.) Thirsty odes were penned. Not just top - but fully dominate them with hyperbolic levels of violence: Twitter users demanded Weisz do everything from slap them to run them over with a truck to shoot them in the face. Throughout the 2019 awards season, Twitter demanded, relentlessly, that Rachel Weisz top them. Weisz, Olivia Colman, and Emma Stone were all praised for their portrayals of complex queer women in 18th-century England, but Weisz emerged as the clear, uh, favorite in the LGBTQ community. I knew going into The Favourite that it was kind of gay, but did not expect to be immersed in a kaleidoscope of toppy dyke lust. Six months later, at another theater across the country, I audibly gasped upon seeing Weisz as Lady Sarah in her pigeon-shooting outfit for the first time. More so I was just extremely all up in my gay feelings. Not because Disobedience is a particularly good movie, or even because I was feeling lonely. I didn’t end up using my solo attendee freedom to text through the screening, but I did cry. Disobedience, Sebastián Lelio’s 2018 account of a lesbian affair in an Orthodox Jewish community, was the obvious choice because, c’mon, it was Rachel Weisz–on–Rachel McAdams on the big screen. I’d been single for about a week and, in an intentional effort to leave my apartment, I took myself to a movie. Go nuts, I guess.” Apparently, I was the only lesbian in Chicago going through a breakup. “This is usually the part where I tell people to turn off their phones,” the theater attendant announced to my 7:30 p.m.