#I KNOW im getting somewhere and somewhere good too

[sexysturn]

MAKE YOU MINE.

FWB!BSF!DRIVER!CHRIS x DRUNK!READER

warnings: SMUT. mentions of being used for your body, sex while drunk, fingering, oral f!recieving, spitting on face/in mouth (???), squirting, getting caught, creampie, unprotected p in v (dont do this), names: “good girl, baby, ma, slut, darling, love, etc”.

summary: you and chris have always felt something besides just a fling for each other, its just never been said out loud. but you, madison, and nick decide to go out for the night. you forget to tell your best friend chris where youre going, and you get a little too drunk, nick and madison cant drive, so chris has to drive you home. but theres too much tension for chris to handle himself tonight.

not proofread.

authors note: this has a VERY long intro guys sorry whoopsie i locked in

i cant focus my eyes on anything. the whole room is filled with purple and pink lights. all i hear is the muffled laughter and conversations in the bar and my friend madison screaming something at what i have to assume is nick.

“NICKKK THIS IS MY SONGGGG” madison drunkenly shouts, slurring her words almost more than mine. “NO WAYY!!” nick yells.

nick is the only sober one out of me and madison. i dont know how or why he is even dealing with us right now.

“nick!” i shout over the katy perry song thats playing for the fourth time tonight, and the large crowd of guys hitting on madison, hoping he hears me. he scans the crowd til he connects eyes with me. “is everything okay?” he says in my ear once he makes his way next to me through the group of grown men flirting with madison.

“nick fuck i think i- i forgot to tell chris where i went with you and mads” i say as i slur my words and almost fall over into nicks arms a solid three times. “shit its okay,” nick reassured me, “he probably assumed you went somewhere with me and madison when we left the house anyway its alright”

“n- no. hes gonna be mad” i say, realizing i havent even checked my phone for God knows how long to text him. shit.

all of a sudden i dart to where nick, madison and i left our bags, leaving nick confused contemplating on whether he should chase after me or not.

i text chris, hoping hes not mad. he hasnt texted me since i left, that cant be good.

me:

hi chris

chris:

what the fuck. ive been so worried about you why haven’t my texts gone through since you left!?

me:

shit im sorry i didnt twll you where i went i just assumed you knew where njck and madison were going cause you knew i was goibg with them.

shit i cant spell, hes gonna know im drunk as fuck

chris:

no i didnt fucking know you were going with them, plus none of my texts have sent to them either!! where the fuck are you do you need me to come get you??? are you drunk!?

me:

im at the bar dowb by the beacj but no i dont need you to come ger me

chris:

you didnt answer my other question, are you drunk?

me:

no

chris:

liar. im omw.

fuck.

i scan through the massive crowd with my purse clutched to my side trying to find nick or madison, preferably both.

i spot nick, talking to some random guy. i probably startled this poor guy when i ran up to nick basically bashing into his arm trying to tell him that chris is on the way to come get me and he seems mad.

nick has always known chris is protective of me. nick also looks worried for me, scanning me up and down. “you sure you want chris to see you out partying drunk as hell in that dress…”

he hands me his leather jacket and puts it on one of my arms and before i know it i feel a cold hand grab me by the forearm before i can fully put nicks jacket on.

its chris.

im getting practically dragged away by him, my visions still blurry, and my thoughts disoriented.

i get in chris’ car outside and he starts interrogating me.

“why didnt you tell me where you went!? what if something happened to you?!! why didnt you text me at all??”

im overwhelmed by all the questions, i can barely think. “im sorry, chris!” i shout “i figured you’d assume i went with nick and madison to the bar and it slipped my mind to text you.”

chris is silent after what i say, i glance over confused.

chris’ gaze is taken by the outfit i have on. a dark red sequin dress with holes at the sides exposing most of my waist, and a scarily low v neck which exposes my tits which are damn near about to fall out the dress.

“what are you thinking wearing that,” he says protectively, “are you trying to get laid by some random guy at the bar!?”

“no”

no? thats all im able to say? why am i nervous?

“hm. maybe ill knock some sense into you later then, teach you its not alright to display yourself like that to everyone” chris huffs.

what does that mean?

chris is silent the rest of the drive home, so am i.

we make it home and chris brings me to his room, giving me some of his clothes to change into.

boxers and a baggy “boston” t shirt.

i decide to change in his room because im too drunk to walk anymore and get to a bathroom. i ask chris for help unzipping my dress.

he comes and helps me, he gets dangerously close to my jawline with his fingers running up and down my back, to my collarbones, which is very unnecessary.

a shiver goes down my spine as he unzips my dress.

all of a sudden, he pulls and drops my dress to my ankles and acts like it was an accident.

“shit sorry” he turns around.

i dont say anything.

we are in his bed watching some random movie, and i feel his cold hand graze over my thigh, causing me to shiver again against my will.

“y’know, that dress was really pretty on you,” he says to me without hesitation. “t- thank you?”

i cant tell if he’s joking and messing with ms caise he is still mad, or if he’s being serious.

“ive always thought you were pretty.” he whispers. “im sorry i got mad earlier. i just dont want other people seeing you and thinking they can use you, you were so drunk”

“i know but i had it under control”

“did you? did you have it under control when you told nick earlier that me and you have hooked up before.”

what.

i did not do that. i couldnt have. was i really that drunk??

next thing i know i feel his hand trace up my thigh again and get scarily close to my core, which was growing embarrassingly wet from the memories of our last hookup now running through my mind, and all the shit chris did when he was unzipping my dress.

his hand finally reaches my core, he rubs circles around my clothed clit.

“you wanna dress like a slut at the bar, huh?” he hisses. “and you wanna get so shitface drunk that you accidentally tell my brother what me and you did?”

“i- im sorry, chris.”

“dont be.”

he stops rubbing my clit and he traces the band of the boxers on me, slowly pulling them down.

“youve always been a slut,” he throws the blanket off of us and pulls my boxers fully off, exposing my glistening pussy to the cold air of his room. “see. youre wet from me getting angry arent you, ma” he slaps my sensitive pussy, making me wince.

“y- yes” i whine, “please chris, touch me”

“whatd you say love, i didnt hear you” he teases while looking me dead in the eyes.

“touch me, please, chr-” before i can finish my sentence, with my mouth open he takes rhe opportunity to spit in my mouth.

holy fuck

“ohh, you couldve just asked.” abruptly he sticks his long middle finger into my aching hole, thrusting slowly. “faster, please.” i beg.

he listens and goes faster, causing me to let out an embarrassingly loud moan. he adds another finger and curls them right into my sweet spot.

“f- fuck!” i let out. “im close.”

“already?” he pulls his fingers out, causing me to whine again at the loss.

all of a sudden he strips completely and his nearly rock hard dick is exposed and seems larger than it ever has. he orders me to take off my shirt, and my tits are exposed.

“so sexy, ma” he grabs my tits and slowly moves his way back down to my still throbbing hole. he licks right from my hole to my clit leaving a slick trail. and he sticks his tounge into my hole causing my back to arch off the bed and i let out a borderline pornographic moan as his fingers begin rubbing circles on my clit again.

he moves his tounge around inside me going as deep as he can while his fingers still work steady circles on my clit. “shit. chris- dont s- stop.” i feel the knot in my stomach tighten, and without warning i squirt.

chris pulls his face away and starts aggressively rubbing on my clit causing me to keep squirting for what felt like forever.

“youre so fuckin sexy ma, only i can make you do that huh?” he says, “my fuckin slut”

“y- yes chris. only you, im yours” this makes him let out a sly chuckle. “i know.”

all of a sudden i feel his dick thrust into me, quickly and without warning. i let out an insane moan and so does he.

his moans are so fucking hot.

“fuck- chris!”

“hm?” he questions, his voice already shaky.

i dont even reply, he knows what i want. i just try my hardest to focus. his cock hitting my gspot perfectly every. single. thrust. his moans are bringing me to the edge so fucking fast.

“c- chris. im gonna cum” my voice is so shaky. his thrusts are gettinf sloppier by the second and i feel the knot in my stomach break. and i feel his cum fill me up.

we finished at the same time

we are both a moaning mess together and he pulls out of me, both of our cum dripping out of me.

then we hear chris’ bedroom door open… its madison and nick, they’re home.

“WHAT THE FUCK” they both shout in unison, nick slamming the door back shut immediately.

oops.

[dearlot]

spending christmas with the yellowjackets 💭

— just random headcanons that include the crash, postcrash, and adult timelines. in no specific order. gn!reader.

christmas in the cabin?!! they had soooo much more to worry about but like let's build a snowman guysss!!! let's cut down a tree and make wood ornaments and give gifts to each other!!! jackie asking you late at night if you think santa would come and deliver presents 😭 all waking up on whatever day you deem Christmas and having a celebration feast? :( lottie making tea for everyone, mari and you trying to make do with all the frozen berries and belts and acorns you've gathered, misty probably singing christmas songs by the fire, unwrapping presents with clothes as wrapping paper.....

the second winter you guys are so much more prepared and also so much more feral. christmas this time around would include a sacrifice for a nice dinner. shauna would disguise it as pulling cards for secret santa but you're actually about to surrender your life or die fighting. you've all got winter outfits too, and i think it'd be cute if everyone else besides lottie and nat wore these little reindeer headpieces during the feast because you guys are their followers. does that make sense? idk.

thinking about being taivan's controversially younger partner during christmas 😁 discounts in van's store (she needs the money ur not getting SHIT for free) and going with them to shop for decorations for the store too😖 gay christmas tree up in van's room...... watching christmas classics while drinking spiked eggnog and cuddling on the couch.... literally getting anything you want because you're their baby. waking up on christmas day, walking down to the kitchen for a quick drink of water first, and seeing tai and van wearing santa hats and kissing 😭

don't even get me started on being adult lottie's partner during christmas. i'll never shut up. i know that wellness center is decorated head to toe and i know she asked you to help her put everything up 😔 she'd give you some hot cocoa after all that hard work and a nice big kiss.

shauna (both adult and postcrash) is the fuckin' worst at hiding your presents, dawg. she probably shoves it in a closet somewhere and hopes you don't need anything from there 😭 of course you find it and immediately know what it is because i wonder what could this black, slightly boxy trash bag possibly be... probably really bad at wrapping too like most of your presents are just covered in tape LMFAO

oughh. spending christmas with post!crash lottie 😖 im ill. trying your best to save up some money to go visit her in swizterland but you just can't afford it :/ mailing polaroids of yourself with all the presents you wanted to send (some of them weren't allowed) and telling her they'll be waiting for her until she gets out :( Christmas with mute!Lottie too.... trying to spread some christmas spirit but its so hard when she's still so broken and won't talk :(( you do what you can though. taking her ice skating and getting a smile and laugh out of her was the highlight of the month.

nat would be so fucking good at gift giving i think....she's always so thoughtful with anything she does for a friend or her lover when making gifts for them because i feel like she'd prefer making rather than buying. little scrapbooks of meaningful places, mixtapes of songs that remind her of you, painting you something even!!!! or even something like getting you this book you really wanted but it comes with this HUGE handwritten note from her that's decorated with stickers and drawings of you and extra goodies she made on her own :(

christmas at lottie's compound with the others!!! you're lottie's closest acolyte and you've gotten closer with the girls as well. thinking about sitting in the circle with them in the sharing shack and they're comfortable enough with you to talk about the murders n shit in front of you 😭 but also going around and giving them gifts!! drinking wine with them and then dancing in the snow, throwing snowballs, and making snow angels >__< falling asleep after getting wasted and you're all kinda just in a pile laying on each other

jackie would buy so. much. mistletoe just to kiss you. you tell her she can just kiss you whenever but she's obsessed with christmas so it HAS to be under mistletoe. i think she'd go crazy during christmas too. you nearly had a heart attack when you came back from work to see a santa cutout peeking from behind a wall 😭 jackie as mrs. claus.....😖😖😖wearing the hat and (her reading) glasses while cooking with you, waking you up as mrs. claus on christmas morning and giving you an hour long present, like, ugh.....

[strngegirl]

a/n: an intermission for the other thing im working on (my first request giggles) because it'll take a while with how hectic my life is rn <\3 // just trying to get my head back in the writing game so this isn't too stimulating (⁠｡⁠•́⁠︿⁠•̀⁠｡⁠)

cw: gn!reader x choso, angst i think, mildly suggestive (mentions of sex), reader cheats on husband with choso, choso doesn't care, choso really loves reader, reader doesn't love him like that, choso is pathetic and a little sad, choso pov.

wc: somewhere around and a little over 1k i think?

❝Hold me, console me, and then I'll leave without a trace.❞ ——— THE MARÍAS, 'NO ONE NOTICED'.

Winter, the coldest season all year round. A season where snow falls, children get giddy about the fact that Santa will break into their house and gift them their dream presents for being a 'good kid' this year, people get ready for the epilogue of yet another year. Basically, it's a season that's celebrating the end of the year, and the start of a new one.

But Choso finds that he feels rather empty, despite all the activities he's doing with his brothers.

He doesn't wanna blame you, but... He's acutely aware the reason why he's feeling so down is because of you.

After Yuki told Choso to go live as a human, you were the first human connection he made. He went to a bar to try out alcohol, and then you slid into the seat next to his, introducing yourself. Conversation with you flew smoothly like silk, and even with his lack of understanding of everything in general, you were so patient with him. You didn't ridicule him, you didn't mock him, you taught him. What Choso didn't know, you explained. He liked that you treated him as an equal that just has a lot of questions, and you didn't look at him weirdly nor belittle him like some other people he's interacted with prior.

That's also one of the reasons why he followed you home, so enamored with you he hardly notices the framed pictures of you and a man together hanging in the corridors of your home, or the shiny ring on your finger even as you used that same hand to undress him. All he can focus on is your gentle voice telling him what to do, and your soothing touches that gives him the most pleasure he has ever felt. He let you take his first, let you see him so vulnerably in all his naked glory because he thinks he might be in love. It's foolish, he knows; he doesn't even understand what love is, but with his understanding of it, he knows he feels something for you. Choso doesn't care about the fact you guys just met, he cared about the pleasant scorching sensation you make him feel.

He kept in contact with you, never got mad even when you ghosted him occasionally, although it does make him feel vaguely sick, he doesn't mind. Because it's you. And he gets to share a bed with you when you reply to him sometimes; be it for sex, an ear to listen to or just some company, he'd be there. Anything for you.

And it stays that way even when he finds out that you have a husband. It should make him back off, really, but the thought that even when you're bound to another, you still wanted him made him feel so special. After knowing, he listens to you ranting to him about how your husband goes away for long periods of time and hardly ever pays you the attention you need, and from what you've told him some other times, he doesn't think your husband deserves you. If anything, he thinks he can find a better ring for you, replace the one currently locked around your ring finger like a leech.

But you always avoided any topic involving taking your relationship any further.

Choso tried to take you on a date, of course. Multiple times, actually. His pleas for you to accept always goes on deaf ears, or you just shut it down with a detached "I'll have to take a rain check". He hates it. He wants to go out with you, hold hands with you and do all the things he sees couples do. But you refused to leave your husband, and you don't want to be caught cheating which is terribly ironic because you shamelessly invite him over almost three times each week. It's okay though, he'll listen to you if it means he can stay. Even if it hurts him inside.

It's been approximately four months since he first met you and began this repeated song and dance, and right now he's back in your bed all over again. Both of you lie there underneath the covers on your marital bed, basking in the post coital bliss he's been addicted to ever since the start. The hum of the heater inside your room being the only noise filling the silence that has fallen between you two.

Choso has his head on your chest, his ears pressed against your warm, sticky skin as he listens to the thud of your calming heartbeat. It's music to his ears, one he can listen to for eternity if you'd allow him to.

And as always, he's the one breaking the silence. Because you wouldn't.

"[Name]?" He asks quietly, wide eyes looking up to your face he finds himself loving.

You hum in acknowledgment, fingers meandering through his hair.

"Can we attend the Christmas festival together?" Choso asks you on a date. Again. Despite knowing the answer—

"No, I'm sorry. You know I can't."

—he'd still ask. He still holds onto that sliver of hope, that one in a million chance where you'd say yes to him.

He deflates at the response he had expected, his face slowly turning down to hide into your chest again. And again, it's fine. He doesn't mind.

"I love you." He whispers those three words for the first time ever. He wasn't sure if it'd make you mad or... Or happy. He wishes it would make you happy. Because he knows if you said that to him, he'd be very happy.

Choso feels you tense the moment he utters those words, and as he waits with bated breath for you to reciprocate his words—nothing.

It's okay. As long as you continue to keep him around, he'll be content with you turning him down every time he tries to show you how in love he is with you.

Because you make him feel human.

[puppyeared]

i feel like im not making any sense but does anyone else feel like there are stories that let u run with them and ones that spell everything out for you

[megamindsupremacy]

love the idea that stan, pre-realisation, would just put any “my brother-“ thoughts that popped up into the ‘shermie’ category into his head

my brother… the genius … always won the spelling bee… we were so close… i learnt to fight because i was uh. protecting my…. (much??) older brother? damn was he a wimp or something

stan, calling shermie up post everything: do you happen to remember like. a flying dinosaur from our childhood or is this another ‘wrong brother’ situation

shermie, who was very much not there: what.

aksdjfhsd yeah!! also I imagine there being a ton of angst potential because Stan remembers ("remembers" my ass, he doesn't remember shit) himself and Shermie as being fairly close as kids, because everything involving "my brother" is conflated with Shermie, until the Mystery Incident got him kicked out. But Shermie wasn't super close with either of his brothers because of the age difference, and also because I hc him as not being home very often and getting the hell outta dodge as soon as he was old enough. So poor Stan has an imagined closer brotherly dynamic with Shermie, who isn't maintaining this dynamic into adulthood because to him Stan is his younger brother who dropped off the face of the earth (sad) at age 17, popped up a few times in newspapers to get arrested and/or scam people, and then dropped off the face of the earth again at 27.

[skrunksthatwunk]

you go to a lesbian blog and find it says women only!! no men allowed!!! and go oh! excuse me, um, what about other lesbians? plenty of lesbians are genderqueer... and they go well, okay, go fuck yourself tim chop off your sweaty dick and stop calling yourself a lesbian. you do not have a dick, actually. you think about that fact often, even though it does you no good. you do not tell this person that.

you go to another lesbian blog and it says women only and you try again, and this time they change it to wlw + nblw only (non-men who love non-men :D). and you'll say hey i appreciate that but gender's not really that cut and dry for a lot of people. someone could be both a man and nonbinary, for instance. i just worry that you're looking at nonbinary as a generic third gender, or an extension of womanhood. i mean yeah you include nblw in your tags but all your posts are about pussy-havers exclusively. what's with that? and they say go fuck yourself you pervy man pretending to be a lesbian. you tried to sneak in but i won't let you.

so you go to a lesbian blog with a dozen or so posts about queer people needing to be more weird about it and you sigh in relief. but you still see the men dni. that's odd. hoping for the best, you say hey! i know you mean well but please maybe don't put men dni at the end of the lovely posts on your lesbian blog bc some lesbians are men. and they'll be like ok!! well you're allowed ;) and you say no that's not. no. some men are lesbians not just me. you think about your own dicklessness and wonder if that's why you were given entry. and you add that even if male lesbians are allowed, there's no indication of that. how would anyone know without asking? and they're like ohh gotcha gotcha well men dni + this is for sapphics only!! and you'll be like ok well that treats the concepts of men and sapphics as mutually exclusive identities and i just told you that's not true and you agreed with me so.. i don't think that solves our problem. and they're like. ok. fine. men dni but genderfluid and multigender people are allowed! and you're like no see that's. that's still the same thing.. you're saying the same thing just with different words. if you don't want men to interact but you're fine with multigender/genderfluid/etc ppl interacting then you either don't see them as Real Men (because they don't reach a standard of Full Manhood) or Complete Men (because they're only Part-Time Men), both of which suggest that they are, in some way, not men or less-than men, which is invalidating and defeats the point of the exception in the first place (accommodation) OR that you don't really mean the dni which is confusing and inconsistent and makes guydykes feel weird and uncomfortable and excluded from the lesbian space you're trying to cultivate. and they're like um. ok. so. cishet men dni? and you're like well i think that makes more sense, but what if someone identifies as both a cishet man and a sapphic? again, if we're trying to accommodate the genderfucky populace then that has to be a possibility that is considered. and they say god you people are never happy. what do you want me to do? what am i supposed to say to keep the right men out? and you pause. you empathize with the need for a space free from dudes trying to fuck you straight and feminine. dudes who watch lesbian porn and joke about what they'd do if they were allowed into girls locker rooms. who look at you like a piece of meat, and like someone who looks at women like pieces of meat in the same way he does. you get it. you know. you want a space where you can be sapphic, too. that's why you came to these blogs in the first place. you brace yourself and you say well i don't know that there are "right men" to keep out. i don't know that there's any single label that would accomplish whatever it is you're trying to accomplish. you could go for "sapphics only" or "queers only" and i think that might be the closest thing to what you want, but it's never going to be perfect. creating any exclusive space is going to shut out people you didn't account for, and the broader the label, the more people will be shut out that you didn't want to shut out. and what about people who don't know if they're allowed? what of questioning transbians, where are they supposed to go? and, frankly, i think i might rather my dykey posts get read and appreciated by a gay guy who sees me as a man than a woman who only sees me as a sacred womb, pure from male perversions or violence or whatever. i think community might just be more complex than a dni can handle. and they look at you and say i don't want to not have a dni. i think you're too permissive. you can't just "what about" or microlabel your way into everything. go fuck yourself, i bet you're not even a lesbian anyway. go find a real problem to get mad about.

you go to a lesbian blog. you ignore the men dni because you know you probably don't even count to them. or maybe you do count and, out of respect for your manhood, they'd shun you accordingly. you try to feel okay about that. you scroll past dozens of posts about mediocre men and gagging at straight friends' boyfriends and how gross and undeserving men are of the beautiful women they couple up with and how all women should be gay so they can get treated right and and and and and. you finally find a post about curling into someone you love and feeling at peace and try to lose yourself in it. you know that feeling is what unites you, what makes you belong. you try to focus on it. you think about carding your hands through a butch's hair or lacing fingers with a femme and feeling warm and loved and more yourself than you ever have before. like this is who you're meant to be. you read about lesboys and butch boytoys and genderfucky dykes and big hairy deep-voiced wonderful women (like you want to be someday, like you wish you could make yourself) and you try to ignore the men dni underneath each and every post. and you daydream about meeting someone kind and earnest at a lesbian bar even though you don't think any such bars exist within three states of you and you can't drink and don't want to drink because you need to be in control of yourself at all times so you don't fuck up like you're always about to and here in the nonexistent lesbian bar you feel wanted and safe and in good company. you picture your ideal, happiest self. it is a mistake. ideal-you has a goatee. not the mascara one you smear on and call drag even though you know it's not drag, not really, the beard you call drag because you think everyone would look at you sadly if you told them it was just to pretend you had something out of your reach. a beard that's soft and that you grew and that cannot be smudged away if you get too comfortable with it. the dream shatters. your people pull away from you, their scoffs mixing with the mind-numbing gay girl bedroom pop you learned to settle for just to have something that almost resembled you, they all pull away and turn their backs and do not look at you. you're too close to being a man now, even though you're the same amount of man as before. and they know you're not supposed to interact with men, not as you would with dykes, at least. and it sours. it's all your imagination, all in your head, but it sours.

you sigh. you think about how small you are. how short, how narrow, how feeble. how your voice pitches up when you talk to strangers because it's easier to speak quietly when it carries more, and because you're nervous. because it's a chore to talk, like everything is. you think about testosterone. you think about how your family would look at you, the questions they would ask, your answers they would only pretend to accept. the uncomfortable glances and whispered questions they'd try to hide from you. you think about how small you are, and how small you will always be. how you don't know of a way to fix it, but even if there was one, no one would want you anymore. you'd be the only one thinking it made you a cooler dyke. you think about how you don't even want a T-voice all the time, how you'll never be able to switch it at will, because you don't know how and can't bring yourself to figure it out. you think about how your throat closes around every hint of your own attraction. how wanting is perverse, how wanting is invasive, how wanting is embarrassing and too vulnerable so it must stay anonymous, as an online witness, and how you can barely manage to form or maintain friendships because your brain makes you pull away, always spinning out and struggling to recover from the simplest of interactions. how they'll all leave you and you won't chase after them at all and how that will hurt them. how stuck you get. how it looks like nothing's holding you back, how that frustrates everyone who thought you were going to be more than you were. the people you love who understand except when it comes to being ghosted, being shut out. how you don't want to hurt them. how you can't tell them that because you're stuck. how you turn to stone when touched, how you never reach out, how you lose your speech and can't look at people, how your autism is fun and sexy until it becomes real and you never see them anymore, how much you longed for someone who knew everything without you having to explain, and who loved you anyway. how unreasonable you know that is to expect of anyone. you think about that not-even-real lesbian bar. you think about how you still can't drive. how you can't leave your home on your own, without dragging somebody into helping you. how you can't leave your body. how you can't leave your manhood behind.

you think about finding another lesbian blog and ignoring everything. about skimming it for the parts you can juice some meaning from. the parts men ignore and don't understand, and how typical of you it is to do so. or the parts where you're not welcome and you should accept that, because it's for lesbians only. how you are a lesbian anyway. how you're meant to choose lesbian or man, how each is a betrayal of some kind to yourself or your people, your family, your lovely strangers, your rare friendly acquaintances. about the parts that tell you you're not wanted, that you're ugly and lazy and gross and insert yourself everywhere without even asking. about the parts that tell you you are hated, and how lesbians are above it all by rejecting men. how lesbians are each blessed miracles. about the parts that say you should be ashamed of being whatever twisted confused freak you are, of everything, of looking and wanting or not looking or not wanting, of picking and choosing instead of taking it all in with a smile. after all, shouldn't you take it? or is your ego too fragile, as men's so often are? aren't you tired? good. we're not here for your consumption. and we sure as hell don't want your company or "community" or whatever. didn't you read the sign? no boys allowed. and if you want to come in you have to make up your mind. as if you haven't told them the only answer you have. you're both. you're both.

you know you broke the rule by interacting.

but it gets lonely sometimes. you wonder if they know.

[tittyinfinity]

contemplating deleting my blog soon I might make a new blog but idk

[zackcharine]

Having another rough day already as. usual

[trentcrimminallybeautiful]

i think about the whole "love that" exchange a lot.

[iangallagherisadeadman]

something something a fanfic in which ian has a crush in mickey who works at the alibi and he wants to make a move but he founds out Mickey is married to svetlana who works there too so he gives up but then he sees svetlana idk hooking up with Kevin and Veronica aka their bosses and he don't know what to do but then he founds out svetlana and mickey are not really together so apparently it was not cheating but how could it be they have a children they are very much married but apparently mickey is very much gay? make my boy ian really stressed and make everybody toy with him all the fucking time

[windor-truffle]

not me dithering for 2 months on whether to buy the Asobi store-exclusive physical items only for them to sell out 😭💔😭💔😭💔

[fisherrprince]

the problem is I’m such a staunch believer in the slow buildup, the earnest enjoyment of meandering through terrible story decisions and weird nothing subplots to build up into a conclusion that explodes out from all that as fantastic storytelling and intrigue based on all that buildup, such that it makes it necessary to get through all that or you’re missing something essential, that I’m also a terrible person to talk to about what makes a story good. I can tell you plenty of what actually makes something tight and well-written and all that technical speak but how could anyone take my advice when I so so so love excruciatingly long unnecessarily complex fumbling and weird nonsense that spirals into, inexplicably, weird nonsense that makes you cry your lungs sore

[stemacademics]

I really want to take Theory of Computation elective, along with

my Symmetry, ODE & Real Analysis in 1v (whose syllabus is exactly the same as Calculus in my last sem, um what's up with that?)

and Modern Physics, Stat thermo

will I be overloading myself with this course list? no idea.

[foccaccia]

does anyone have recommendations for fictional media that has like. actual lesbians in it. not like supergirl Two White Skinny Girls, One Blonde and One Brunette Kiss media, or "its implied lesbianism!!!" but just regular fucking lesbians

[sanchoyo]

watching a lot of cooking videos lately (great for background noise while working) and just saw one where a cat hops on the KITCHEN COUNTER while the lady is cooking 🤢 that is disgusting do ppl rly let their animals up there!! that kitty has stepped in its litter box maam!!! or it could shed on that counter!!! and you're prepping food up there rn!! ew!!!

[mypeggableromance]

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