#calling my butch loverboy

[femmeself]

Craving domestic love where you wake to your lover, and turn off the alarm to wake them up with kisses instead. Brushing your teeth together in the bathroom, then have a cup of tea and some jam toast before work. Get some of their favourite snacks after work to sneak into their jacket pockets tomorrow. Make a casserole and rhubarb crumble for dinner because its cold and rainy tonight. They clear away the plates because you've spoilt them with comfort food. Watching them wash the dishes, rolled up sleeves and sudsy hands. Gentle kisses on the back of their neck as you coax them to bed for sweet sex and gossip before cuddling to sleep.

[entropy-sea-system]

really feeling like the term loverboy lately tbh... like. loverboylexic gender feels like my most prominent gender rn (Im genderfluid and multigender). I think thats been coined at least. its a gender based on the word loverboy

[nightmareworks]

hi i have been Cooking lancer fic

Once again, we meet Union Auxiliary Pilot, (28th Voidcombat Division, Mercenary Wing Bravo,) ["Kingfishers",] Callsign- VI The Lovers. We meet Miss Allison Wax (she/her) [Her Body, a borrowed face]

And her Loverboy (he/him) [Stone Butch Death Machine]

(both art gotten from @skycrimedraws who NAILS IT EVERY TIME BABY)

"Hey boss man," The words fell out of her lips, halfway through (the next words were a question) when her CO interrupts with "I told you not to call me that." She stops. (She doesn't flinch, its not flinching.) [She kind of just needs to run through some maybes.] For just that moment, there's no one in the body in front of the CO. And then she starts again, words coming back out. "Alright, alright. CO, what's the job you got lined up for me and my Loverboy?" The CO gestured to the spare chair with a file, and Allison picked her way across the floor. (She walked on the tips of her toes, even in the sneakers.) [She walked with a gait to big for her body, like her legs were blades.] {She's En Pointe} She pulled out the chair and sat, crossing a leg across her lap and looking at the CO through her bangs. "The next mission shouldn't be for a while yet, Miss Wax." The CO's voice was always even, collected. That's why they were the CO. That's why they wore Union Grays and Allison wore what she always did. (Just put clothes on Her body) [What kind of clothes did She wear before Allison?] A thought dismissed with the disappointment of nearlight engines. "Really now, CO? How long are you gonna keep me up? More time in medbay?" The CO shakes their head, opening files, going through them. The work seems endless, running a Merc Lance. (But what's Alllison gotta worry about work?) [Gets to wound up, being in a ship conapt too long without her Loverboy.]

"So is it more time with the headmeds?" The CO looks up from the papers and gives that kind of pained smile as Allison snatches a file off the table to read. (One of the ones with the Mission Seal on it.) [Can't read Unionite Legalese for shit.] "No, Miss Wax, you're scheduled for wind-down, but you don't need to go see one of the after-action therapists- unless you feel the need of course." So she started paging through the mission file, going over the after action reports compiled from her Loverboy (From his eye, from his soul.) [The stars are beautiful at 2,000 kmph.] "So there's really no jobs, CO? Not even basic patrols? I get bored when I'm stuck down too long." The CO holds out their hand, and she returns the file. (She likes to feel like she earns her keep.) [That's just polite, for all the things Union offers.] "Miss Wax," the CO begins "I understand that talented pilots get odd without flight." That's the thing about Grays- they're willing to work with you more than they aren't. (Its not that Allison thought they were pushovers.) [Just the most reasonable kind of people, mostly.] I can organize testflights for you, if you see that there isn't more work for the technicians." There's what she wants to hear (But not quite).

"Work's good for me, CO. You wouldn't let a butterfly starve in a jar, would you?" The CO folds the file closed. (Her file.) [The one that says "Obvious signs of long-term Chronos exposure."] Doctors let you read files out this way. Its nice to know they care, at least. CO gives their answer. "Miss Wax, war's a failure and you're a contingency. Glory only comes with time. Take your mech out, call it a patrol if that helps, but my job is to make sure the mercenaries stay healthy and stay flying." There's more, Allison knows there's more, and she stops a moment. For that split second, she's not in Her body. Allison is watching Her sit there, in the chair, in Allison's clothes, across from the CO. (The look on their face is kind of worried.) [People still caught in their meat don't like being reminded of it's hold on them.] Allison picks a maybe, a series of words that seem right, and then the moment is over, and she's back in Her body. "So where are we headed, CO? You can at least let me prepare for the future."

"We're headed to Dawnline, Miss Wax. There'll be work aplenty for you in the Long Rim and beyond."

======

The cavalry technician looked up at the frame he was gonna work on. It was a custom job, one of the Lancers that the Aux had brought onboard when coming out of the Range. Long haul ships for Union do that sometimes, guard presence in exchange for amnesty and escape. Good people get trapped places. He just wasn't sure whoever flew this thing was the best kinda people. "Beautiful damn monster you are." The mechtech murmured under his breath, looking through a sheaf of printouts. Specs for the machine in front of him, an IPS-N Frame the pilot apparently fit together herself. He didn't, really trust the speed listed under its maximum output. That kind of speed would make someone grayout (The speed at which the blood of a human body begins to pool in the limbs, causing the pilot to lose consciousness). Redout even. [The point of g-force at which the brain is starved of blood, and dies.]

He looked up again at the machine and saw it was staring back at him, great singular eye tracking along its axis, to cast its baleful red upon him. He noted it, and looked back to his notes. Looking for if this thing had a casket it in, a C/C programmed to play tricks. The normal shit pilots pull on their technicians. He came up around the great black thing in its bay, and stared it in the eye from the gantry. It stared back, body making the clittering hiss of a mech at rest. (Mechanized Cavalry frames that are in regular usage are rarely quite things.) Coolant pumped through the entire frame, keeping the coldcore under wraps until it really needed to go. Fusion engines, power-reroutes designed along the Albatross style… where the verniers and thrusters aren't shaped for an RPV. (Remote Pilot Vehicles aren't uncommonly retrofitted for pilot use, he notes under his breath) [Under that red eye.] He eyes them again, as the giant thing keeps staring. There isn't any record of a computer smart enough to do anything of worth on this machine.

It was strictly Turning-Compliant, according to the CO's paperwork. That left the damages to repair. Bits of slagged armor along the leg-blades and shoulder plating. Nothing a few hours work with the rigs wouldn't fix. The mechtech flicked a few switches and brought the frame up to the light, to the arms that pulled and printed in smooth motions as his fingers danced across the keys. It was slower going than he thought. And the mech was making a noise. It was keening, a clatter-chatter at once both rumbling low and piercingly high. Something was wrong with the feedback from the mech-harness, reporting simple and blunt legionspace attacks. Best the cavalry technician could manage was to remove the offending plates before the assembly limbs gave up and stalled. That's when a hand touched his shoulder, and a voice rang in his ear. "My Loverboy doesn't know you, mechtech, but I do. Gimmie a minute to settle him down and you can get back to work."

The girl walks past him then, almost teeter-tottering as she glides across the floor on the tips of her shoes. She moves her legs wrong, picking her way as much as stepping. The cavalry tech looks at the mech's legs and puts together the kind of pilot he's dealing with. The kind that have gone in a direction past human, hunting for something else. (He'd never really known someone in full body prosthesis) [Was rare, in his neck of the galaxy.] She moves like her mech even as she steps off the gantry and onto its chest, placing hands against the grinning skull. Ever since she came in, the eye's been locked onto her alone. He worries and wonders what kind of monster he's got to work on now.

===

He screams for her, against the void, he tears away from the cling-gravity of the UNS-CV Paris (Like the commune, she offers) [Like lights, the therapist offers back.] But the past doesn't matter when the future is laid out in the bleeding world of 2000 kmph. She was safe from everything, safe from Gravity itself as she lay coiled in her Loverboy's guts, aching through Chronos haze and picking his flight path for him as a beautiful dance. She wanted him to run through his paces, and he was eager to please. To show her what he could do. How he was built for her. Like a butterfly flitting across a windless sky, like a shark dancing through a school of fish- Loverboy puts on a show for his girl.

She's spinning him a dance, putting the engine to its test. Her Loverboy screams for his girl as he dances, frame keening against the speed and void. (Allison watches Her legs twist against the seat.) [That's how she knew the engine was art] {State-of-the-art affection} She doesn't like to think about home. Not home anymore, and not worth thinking about. More Gravity shorn free from her under the speed. So what's it worth if its pulled away so easily? Home wasn't ever home, no matter how much anyone told Allison it was. What's where you're born compared to where you'll be? (What's the flesh you were born in but another place to be trapped in?) Allison feels her brain reel as Loverboy spins in a piroutte ascending. It doesn't spin in place, but it recognizes the forces working upon it as her Loverboy pulls into a rise. (The snap from horizontal to vertical would snap necks.) [But when you don't have Gravity, moving is easier.]

Verniers howl with force as Allison considers Her. (And the changes Allison had made to Her.) [Would She mind? Would She understand?] There are protective tendons, built from the same kind of whipcord steel that run through Loverboy. There are stabilization systems built into her braincase, that absorb and disperse the shock of sudden shifts of g-force. There's a dozen, a hundred little aftermarket touches to Her body that Allison has made. (But is it really that bad, when the body is aftermarket?) [When the body wasn't built for you.] Allison still watches Her, curled as Allison left Her. (Back curved gentle. Arms on knees, resting eyes against forearm.) [The clunky implants hooking Her to Loverboy peek their tubes from beneath Her shirt] She was still perfect. Still beautiful. Everything Allison had wanted to be back then. There She was, with Allison's brain in Her body, Allison's Loverboy hooked through feeds to Her back.

Allison reached in the stopped little flaring moments between directing Loverboy through his dance. They were all the same moment. Allison reached out, and cradled Her face, and said Her name. Something Allison couldn't ever know. (How was she supposed find Her? Long way from Ketherese.) [From everything from that life.] Everything but her Loverboy. He counts the micromovements of her eyes. His own whirrs and focuses, keening as the scopes hone in on a target and his body twists with his girl's desire. He counts the times she stops existing as a presence registered at the controls. He rolls over and considers in his clicking thoughts the ways he loves her. His adoration burns in him as retros flare and he lands blades first, touching against an asteroid with the grace of a butterfly upon a blossom. His thoughts turn and his computers chitter and churn. His whitewash tanks purge into rawmat resivors and a new batch is rapidly encoded, new chains of acids and code written by mute-drive, a silent organ buried deep in his frame, coiled round and through his girl.

The Hyperkinesis Module develops a novel admixture of nanites and adrenaline and feeds through the connection to Allison, filling her endocrine system with a soothing electricity synchronized to readouts and full reports of engine efficiencies, micrometeor grazes, and heat venting. (His body hisses for her, waste gas for heat disperial in null atmosphere environments) [He bares his heart to her, reactor dropping as he stretches against the asteroid.] Allison leans forward, the Chronos uptake stretching from her back and into the cockpit's back wall. (Little tubes running up to her spine and kidneys) [One of the other aftermarket touches to Her body.] Allison's face reaches through the holoscreen outputs of Loverboy's eye. She kisses the armored outer hull of her cockpit. (She stands to her toes.) And her Loverboy gently touches off the asteroid, into the void, gently floating in the empty place beyond Gravity.

Allison lowers her oxygen uptake, and rides the Chronos her Loverboy made for her. (She dreams like an editor.) [Looking at scenes and picking them.] A wash along the nervous system, stuttering climbing up her spinal column and into the brainstem. She dreams of Ketherese, and what was left behind. Consider the Gravity that's been shed. (In the embrace of her Loverboy.) [Memories are the only thing you can't shed.] Her grandfather's dirt is far from everything she'll ever see again. No one will see the frontiers she sees. (Allison will see things even She'll never see.) [Or maybe they'll see the same stars some day.] {Face-to-borrowed-face.}

No one she had ever known would see what she sees, know what she knows. (She'd shed them, like her old body.) [Like Gravity.]

[goldxnfemme]

just to be clear, if you're a butch who doesn't like to be called any of those things (boy/pretty boy/loverboy/good boy etc), you're just as valid, just as butch. I made my post because a lot of the time butches who do enjoy those terms get invalidated and I won't stand for that.

Same goes for butches who love to be called handsome, for butches who love to be called gorgeous, pretty, beautiful, all of you are valid and amazing.

[gmanwhore]

I saw someone do this but uh. My TNMN ships but I assign all of them song lyrics. Yippee.

Roman x Lois

Roman: "Nothing in the world belongs to me/but my love is mine all mine all mine" (My Love, Mine All Mine)

Lois: "My sweetheart's piano is rat filled/and mine is infested with bugs/though the music we make is unnatural/it sounds just like falling in love" (Butch 4 Butch by Rio Romeo)

Gloria x Arnold

Gloria: "What if when he sees me/I like him and he knows it?/What if he opens up a door/and I can't close it? (What If He Sees Me from Waitress)

Arnold: "We fit together like the ignition and the key/and you're safe and sound with me" (Safe and Sound by Hawksley Workman)

Nacha x Francis

Nacha: "Just one look and I can heat a bell ring/One more look and I forget everything" (Mamma Mia by ABBA)

Francis: "Say you're still her/The woman you were/and you haven't turned into/Someone who could never love me again" ((Cover This Song) Just a Little Bit Mine by Will Wood)

Selenne x Margarette x Nacha

Margarette: "Gonna do my very best, baby can't you see/Gotta put me to the test, take a chance on me" (Take a Chance by ABBA)

Nacha: "Where do you get off/being so god damn beautiful?/Oh lord!/Don't ask me what I mean" (White Knuckle Jerk (Where Do You Get Off?) by Wil Wood)

Selenne: "No, I'm not falling for you/so, please have mercy on me" (Despair by Leo)

Steven x Francis 2/Scarlet Milkman

Steven: "I don't care what they say about us anyways/I don't care 'bout that" (Buddy Holly by Weezer)

Francis 2: "Kiss me until my lips are bruised/till there's blood pooled all around our shoes/hold me tight within your arms/till my ribs are shattered and deformed!" (English translation of Suki Suki Daisuke by Jun Togawa)

Francis x Mclooy

Francis: "One last kiss/I need you like I need a gaping head wound" (Love You Like an Alcoholic by The Taxpayers)

Mclooy: "And I said oh gosh golly you should call your pops probably/or get the cops on me" (Bad Vibes by That Handsome Devil

Izaack x Robertsky x Elenois (Izzack and Elenois are dating Robertsky separately he has two hands)

Izzack: "They're telling you the same things that I planned to say/I thought I was unique/maybe I'm not that way" (I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend by Hot Freaks)

Robertsky: "Hold me, I'm your bunny/tell me I'm not funny/tell me I'm legit" (Puppy Princess by Hot Freaks)

Elenois: "Hey, boy, where do you get it from?/hey, boy, where did you go?/I learned my passion in the good old-fashioned school of lover boys" (Good ol' Loverboy by Queen)

Lois x Rafttellyn

Lois: "When you wake up next to him in the middle of the night/with your head in your hands, you're nothing more than his wife/and when you think about me, all of those years ago/you're standing face to face with "I told you so"/you know I hate to say, "I told you so"/you know I hate to say, but, I told you so" (Good Luck, Babe by Chappell Roan)

Rafttellyn: "I had to have this talk with you/my happiness depends on you/and whatever you decide to do" (Jolene by Dolly Parton)

This next one is something I don't actually ship but they are in fics I'm writing so like

Izaack x Angus x Francis (Angus is cheating on Izzack with Francis and on Francis with Izaack)

Izzack: "And the more that I am in pain, the more that you'll gain/and to me, that seems like a pretty fair trade/you bite, my nervous system ignites/the tormenting spite, sacrifices must be made" (Misery Meat by Sodikken)

Angus: "You're the only one who's making me come/to my sinful senses/I'll never love anyone the same/I'll never feel ashamed of using you for pleasure" (Using You by Mars Argo)

Francis: Go on and step on me/you're free to have everything you can see/all that you want from me/you're free to be all that you want to be/do what you want with me" (Step on Me by The Cardigans)

[dragynkeep]

rwb/ytwt/fandm callin yang butch n loverboy/blakes boytoy is not only making me so fucking disphoric, they did something i thought was impossible, they made my butch loving ass genuinely hate butch yang so fucking much. like specifically yang. i hate it i freakin hate it here.

yang is the "butchest" straight men can go before they get scared; in which she still dresses mostly traditionally femme until she got into a wlw relationship & then pants were acceptable instead of the up her crack booty shorts. her tits are still out at every available avenue. her hair is still down to her asshole & completely unrestrained, nevermind how cumbersome that must get in her chosen job. but ohmygod she likes motorcycles which is a BOY activity so she has to be a BOY because god forbid girls get into BOY things lmao.

nevermind that she still likes to party & is described as a party girl (don't bring that up to rwbytwt, you will get some horrendous ass slutshaming in turn about how she's not like those dumb whores & she's actually smart & has a brain !! & doesn't need to like men & wah wah)

also also don't bring up that butch has been used for all wlw (& p much all queer people) because then you'll get the lesbian yang defenders all mad because god forbid she like a cock & they can't deny it without being called biphobic which they unfortunately have to suffer with blake.

jumpscare but these two cumbrained men are not letting yang be any more "butch" than wearing pants & a leather jacket, nor are they ever going to let her be any type of queer that excludes men because kerry has openly had violent fantasies of the way he'd fuck her. which, fiction is fiction but somehow rwbytwt has convinced themselves these two losers are actually going to deliver on their headcanons lmao.

it's always butch yang fans that have the most radfem ass views on shit even without claiming the label lmao. for all they hate men, they're sure trying to turn yang into one & if they wanted that, we have sun. but y'know. more emotionally available & just all around a better character oops.

[treveonwest]

(PowerRuff part 21 part 2) {The Cutie Prom}

Brick🤬) all right Butch I'm finally going to do it

_____________________________

Butch🦴) well she's over there better do it before you lose your chance

___________________

Brick🤬) you're right….. I'm going for it

Berserk🔥) hold on Loverboy

Berserk🔥) look I know you like Blossom and stuff but I'm telling you right now I call dips she's just too hot for you and unlike you I've been trying to get her attention so you're not going to fuck that up for me

Brick🤬) okay first of all you can't call dibs second of all I've liked Blossom for a while now and you are not about to mess it up who Do You Think You Are hell we used to date and now you're trying to take the other girl that I want yeah no honey you're not about to fuck that up for me and at least I'm a boy Blossom doesn't like girls

Blossom🌸) wait did you say you had your dress made for you bubbles

_____________________________

Bubbles💙) yes I contacted this famous fashion designer and she designed it for me

____________________

Brick🤬) hey Blossom can I talk to you

Blossom🌸) sure Brick what's up

______________________________

Brick🤬) well there's something I really want to ask you

Brick🤬) Pinky do you maybe wanna go to the prom with me

Blossom🌸) oh umm of course I'd be more than happy to go with you *in her head* {I actually can't believe he asked me}

Brick🤬) *blushing hard as fuck* yeah thanks for agreeing to go with me I'll make sure I dress nice and whatever

_____________________________________

Blossom🌸) cool I love a man that knows how to dress

Butch🦴) *wolf whistles* GO BRICK

Angel🐭) ummm hi princess

______________________

Princess👑) hi Angel

Angel🐭) ummm hi princess

____________________________

Princess👑) hi Angel

___________________

Angel🐭) are you okay you seem a little down

_______________________

Princess👑) yeah a little I've been having a really hard time sleeping at night something………….. Really awful happened to me when I was kidnapped and I've been having nightmares ever since last night I actually got a good sleep but I haven't been sleeping very good for a couple of days

Angel🐭) it's okay princess I'm here for you honestly I actually wanted to be your friend unlike those other girls

_______________________________

Princess👑) thanks angel *cries a little bit*

Angel🐭) also princess I know you said you're feeling a little down I was just really wondering if you maybe want to go to the p-prom w-with m-me just too you know have a little f-fun

________________________________

Princess👑) you know I was seriously thinking about not going but maybe it's what I need maybe I need to go out and have a little fun so yeah I'll go with you

Berserk🔥) and it's crazy like I like this girl like I like her a lot but she keeps on saying she's straight but gives off intense bi energy but she keeps on saying she doesn't like me everytime I flirt with her but the crazy thing is she likes this guy and that guy is what happens to be one of my ex-boyfriends that I really don't like to talk about because we dated at a really crappy time of my life and it's just like so stressful

_____________________________

Julian🏳️‍⚧️) sorry about that hopefully things work out for you

Butch🦴) hey Julian can I talk to you

________________________

Julian🏳️‍⚧️) sure cutie

Butch🦴) so I was wondering if you're pretty self wanted to go to the prom with a hunk like me

Julian🏳️‍⚧️) sure you are pretty handsome and I recently bought this really cute outfit and now I have a reason to wear it

_______________________________

Butch🦴) awesome looking forward to it

Hours Later

Blossom🌸) bubbles your outfit is so cute

Bubbles💙) yes I love my dress but big sis I'm kind of jealous yours is beautiful

Buttercup💚) are you guys possible ready yet because I've been ready for hours and you guys have just been sitting in here talking

Blossom🌸) wow Buttercup you look really spiffy

________________________________

Bubbles💙) yeah I've never seen you wear a suit before

______________________

Buttercup💚) yeah that's mostly because I don't like going to fancy events and I did buy the suit to go on a date with Summer but now I get to use it for something else but since we're all ready let's hurry up and go downstairs the Uber driver is going to be here in any minute

Don't Worry Keep Reading

[here-kittykitty]

Ah?! Lover boy?! Lipstick stains???

- ⚡

Calling butches/mascs loverboy is my FAVOURITE thing, has never failed me <333 yesterday a butch walked into work and they had loverboy tattooed across their collarbone and i almost blacked out.

Also I always wear really dark lipstick so my lip stains look really pretty,, my favourite sight is my lipstick trails down someone's chest/stomach.

[sadbrainz]

in many of my relationships i tend to fill this like masc/top/daddy role and while there are so many parts of that dynamic that i feel honored and held by the relationship i am in now is like giving me the space to explore this side of me that has been longing for nurture and care (in this specific way). like my butch pisces loverboy partner loves taking care of me and i know that all these roles are made-up but i also think that as a trans person there is a part of me that just feels so held by being able to explore what being a girl who is loved by a butch feels like.

like in bed specifically i am so spoiled. bed is where i am allowed to be a girl. part of that is sexually: they eat me out for hours without expecting anything in return, they verbally affirm how hot/sexy/desired i am by them, they tell me how good i look when i come, they encourage me to be loud, i’ve slipped and called them “daddy” a couple times and it just feels really natural. but part of it is not sexual but intimate. they love when i wear their clothes to bed. they love bringing me coffee and food in bed in the morning. when i’m cozy in bed they absolutely wait on me. and like i am defaulting to they/them because i always do but my partner is a she/her butch woman who roasts coffee and wears boots and shaved her head and does pushups like uuuuuggggghhhh.

[good-ol-fashioned-loverboy]

♡ welcome to good-ol-fashioned-loverboy on tumblr dot com!

Hello! We're Tri, a subsystem of 3 flavors of Gordon B!

Read our DNI/Block list please! And no worries if you misinterpret~ We're the local Embarrassment Manager in our system, meaning we may not front unless someone calls for us. Keep in mind due to our role we may come off as aloof or passive aggressive at times. You should ask if you're worried about it being about you, we love to clarify!~ We use tildes (~) and hearts a lot neutrally/platonically. If for any reason you want us to not use them in conversation with you I suggest that you make that clear to us, thank you!~

More info about our subsystem members & credits to things used below! &lt;3

♡ Barnabus, the Host

Hello! Call me B please! ^_^; I'm the host of our subsystem! I am kinda quiet though so you're most likely going to talk to the others first. Here's some stuff about me! :D ♡ I'm a demiromantic bisexual trans man who uses mainly He/His. ♡ I am a human, even inspace! I have partial heterochromia. ♡ I like comic books, manga and reading! Though webcore interests me too. I have a hobby for drawing superheros! ♡ Queen and MARINA are my favorite artists, and I typically lean towards Rock, Jazz, and Pop music. ♡ I'm a lot more butch in my presentation than the other two. o\

♡ Loverboy, the Socializer

HI HI HIIIII~ I'm Loverboy! I'm usually the one who does the talking around here unless we're doing our system job hehe! Since B is so so soooo shy I help him get used to people! ♡ I'm mspec gay trans guy with a looooot of love in my heart!~ My favorite pronouns are Kiss/Kisses, It/Its and He/His! ♡ I'm an introject of the iloveyou virus! I don't really have a physical form so I just draw myself as Lovecore'd B! ♡ My interests aren't usually acted upon because all I want to do is infect people really! ^u^; But I looove Love and everything lovecore! ♡ I tend to like Gabber and Breakcore a lot! No favorite artist, I just listen to whatever I can find really <;3 ♡ I dress in femme stuff in a butch way!

♡ Leading Light, the Persecutor

Greetings~ I'm the one they call Leading Light. I'm a lot more aloof than the others and my job here is to protect ourselves and the system as a whole from embarrassing social situations. But I also yell at people if needed.~ I prefer the word persecutor over avenger/protector for personal reasons. ♡ I'm bisexual but tend to lean more towards nonbinary/gnc people, and also I'm aromantic and transmasc. ♡ I'm a vampire inspace and don't hide my bloodlust. Yes, I have fangs and I can turn into a bat thank you for asking~ ♡ I like anything vampire romance related and enjoy making collages and collections based on aesthetics I enjoy. Anything with lipstick stains can and will peak my interest. ♡ My music taste leans more towards metal, punk and screamo. UTSU-P is a favorite of mine.~ ♡ If I had to label my gender presentation it'd be punk butch-futch.

♡ Credits / Sources

pfp / post header

divider (ribbons)

divider (smack)

divider (website)

divider (letters)

divider (forever love)

divider (heart)

divider (lipstick)

sprites are all edits from HLVRV.

[purrypuppy]

Twice now I’ve thought to myself “do I have X kink?” and then stumbled across the kink on here only to realize “I thought that was a kink of mine but turns out that my desire isn’t sexual/turns out that I am simply comfortable with it but not aroused by it” which is a fun exploration of sexuality 😅

Hidin em under a readmore so ppl don’t have to see them mentioned if they don’t want

One is M*s gendering Kink? I really don’t mind being called words that are ~misgendering~ in certain contexts? I’m very Not A Man or Not A Woman, but in romantic context I love being referred to as my wife’s wife. And I do find a home in sapphic spaces (ones that make room for butches like me). And sexually I wouldn’t mind being called a good girl, or loverboy, etc. But uhhhh 🙃 I stumbled onto actual misgendering kink and it is not anything I want in my sex life at all. I think I just don’t mind gendered words being used to make me feel sexy; but I would absolutely hate if someone misgendered me on purpose for their sexual pleasure

The other one is the one with food???? Turns out I am NOT into that, I do not find any sexual pleasure in giving people food or eating. My confusion was that I am a Big Softy who express love through “did you eat yet?” “let me buy your favorite for you!” “please eat breakfast <3,” with the most sexual iteration of it maybe being “if you eat breakfast for me I’ll choke you a little” to motivate people to eat if they’re having a hard time with it.

[transmechanicus]

Let's normalize calling butches "pretty boy" or even "Loverboy"

If nothing else this measure has my full approval and support, you can start with me.

[eeveevie]

loose lips

Rosie just wants to have a quiet night of studying, but that changes when she learns Butch is causing a ruckus at Moriarty's Saloon. After collecting him and taking him home, he says a lot more than he intended while under the influence.

Unprompted, but I’ve been sitting on this idea for a long while. I make reference to this in a few of my other one-shots since I go back and forth between pre-relationship and developing-relationship fics for these two. 

Butch DeLoria x Rosie Sheridan (Lone Wanderer)

3200 words | [read on Ao3]

Sitting upstairs in Craterside Supply, Rosie was immersed in her research, reading over the extensive notes she had taken after investigating the colony of mirelurks in the Anchorage Memorial. The work on the Wasteland Survival Guide was a welcome distraction, allowing her to keep her mind busy until the Brotherhood provided her with a solid lead on where to find a G.E.C.K. Moira had set up the private sanctuary in her shop a few months ago, more than happy to give the vault-dweller a quiet place to study. Even though Rosie had her own residence within Megaton, it was difficult to get any work done when she had Butch DeLoria as a housemate.

Ever since finding him in Rivet City, he’d been her constant companion—annoying and distracting at first, but gradually became someone she could rely on. He made an effort to be less of a jerk, owning up to the mistakes of his youth, and performing thoughtful gestures of kindness for her unprompted. Rosie wouldn’t admit it aloud, but it was nice having him around. The more she got to know him as her friend, the more she realized they had a lot in common. Unexpected from the boy who used to stick gum in her hair. Now, he watched her six with a loaded pistol and cooked her breakfast (sometimes—when he remembered to set an alarm, that is). She liked him—a lot more than she wanted to.

Rosie could hear Moira teasing her about the redness in her cheeks—little red potatoes—all dreamy-voiced as she expressed desires for the two to ‘circle up’ and have babies. Assuming by the order of things, it had to be Wasteland slang for marriage, which was horrifying for so many reasons. Maybe it was a bad idea to confide in her shopkeeper friend about her potential feelings for Butch. Now she’d never hear the end of it when all she wanted was peace and quiet.

Just as Rosie refocused on the lines in her journal, the metal door to the shop creaked open, disrupting her train of thought—descended from local crabs, I’d call them…

Moira’s chipper voice echoed downstairs. “You’re back so soon?”

Rosie glanced to her Pip-Boy to confirm it was past store hours. She grumbled to herself, wondering if Butch had gotten bored and decided to come collect her for a more fun activity—it wouldn’t be the first time. Distracting, she reminded herself, for completely different reasons than before. She didn’t want to parade around town with his arm slung around her shoulder—or did she?

“Ugh,” she groaned, hand sliding across her face and smudging her glasses. Rosie stood and leaned over the railing, prepared to reprimand her companion when she realized Butch wasn’t even the one standing in the doorway.

Mitch, Craterside Supply’s mercenary was disgruntled as ever, leaning against the far wall with his arms crossed. Moira paused from cleaning the countertop to look at him, giving him the full attention she gave anyone she talked to.

“It’s your night off, Mitch! Shouldn’t you be enjoying it instead of standing there like you always do?” she ended her sentence with an easy sounding laugh, something Rosie wished she could emulate.

The merc muttered something incoherently, lips set in a fine line when he regarded his employer. How the two got along was anybody’s guess. Rosie imagined it had something to do with the frequent exchange of caps—though, Moira’s glowing personality seemed to melt even the coldest of hearts.

“There’s a problem at Moriarty’s,” Mitch explained, briefly.

“Oh no!” the redhead exclaimed, more intensely than the mercenary expected. “Is everybody alright?”

Mitch let out a deep sigh and let his eyes roam to where Rosie was perched, silently eavesdropping on their conversation in clear view. She sheepishly backed away before stepping back, realizing it was a little late to pretend she hadn’t been listening. He gestured to her with a jutted-out thumb.

“It’s that other vault-kid you like so much,” he said, with just enough distain in his voice it verged on resentment. Rosie wanted to smile, thinking the mercenary was jealous of Moira’s affections towards the younger visitors. Her mind was preoccupied, however, when she realized he was talking about Butch. “That boy can’t hold his liquor. He’s no Jericho, but he’s still a rowdy drunk.”  

Rosie felt a rush of disappointment at the information. She had hoped that Butch would stop spending so much of his free time at the Megaton saloon, wasting his caps on alcohol. This behavior seemed like a step back in the wrong direction, backsliding into his old, rebellious ways. Maybe she was wrong to think that people could change—that Butch could change. Regardless of how tumultuous she felt at the moment, Rosie knew she couldn’t sit idly by. So much for staying in and studying.

“I’ll go,” she said as she descended the stairs. “Before something worse happens.”

Mitch smirked. “Moriarty already had him drink the moonshine, and we all know what’s in that.”

“Oh, my poor sweet potato,” Moira cooed, tilting her head to the side in a sympathetic gesture. Rosie pressed a hand to her mouth, trying not to retch at the thought—she’d heard the rumors—and sent a silent prayer, hoping they weren’t true on Butch’s behalf. Her shopkeeper friend looked at her. “Do you need any help?”

Rosie shook her head, doubting that either of them would be of any real assistance. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Moira. Thank you again.”

“You’re very welcome,” she replied with a bright grin. “Take care of widdle Butch, now, okay?”

Rosie could only nod and fled from the building before her friend could embarrass her with any suggestive comments or innuendo. The last thing she needed was for the mercenary to know about her unrequited crush.

Moriarty stood outside his establishment as Rosie approached, smoke in hand as he overlooked the night sky. He noticed her just as she made to slip by to the entrance, in no mood to want to speak to the surly man.

“Aye, if it isn’t Miss Sheridan,” he crooned, feigning pleasantries. “Here to collect yer loverboy?”  

She huffed, clenching her fingers into fists before relaxing. Better to kill him with kindness, she reminded herself. “I hope he hasn’t been too disruptive,” she said, forcing a smile.

“The boys’ entertaining, I’ll give ‘em that,” Moriarty replied. “See for yerself. May haf to hire ‘em for the bar—”

Rosie turned on her heel, tuning out his accented words as she pushed through the sturdy metal door to the bar. She rarely visited the saloon, and the stench of booze and nicotine overwhelmed her as soon as she crossed the threshold. Immediately she found who she was looking for, sitting at the bar with his back to her so all she could see was the Tunnel Snakes embroidery. Butch. He was hunched over the counter, empty beer bottles and glasses surrounding his frame. It had only been a few hours since she’d last seen him, but apparently he’d been busy.

“One—one mrr,” he slurred at Gob, who stared at him with a mix of pity and annoyance. “Jus one!”

The ghoul bartender sighed, shaking his head. “Kid, you ever hear of alcohol poisoning?”

“Wha-uh?”

Gob noticed Rosie standing in the entranceway and relaxed, though his expression became much more sympathetic. “Better sober up, unless you want to disappoint your best gal.”

Butch perked up, swiveling around in the barstool so fast that he nearly toppled out of the seat altogether. She rushed to steady him, wincing at how much heavier he seemed—maybe it was all the beer and whiskey. With one arm wrapped around his torso, she held him upright against the bar.

“Stitches!” he greeted, awkwardly slinging an arm around her shoulder and dragging her close for a sideways hug. “Here!”

She nodded, choosing to ignore him for the moment and glanced to Gob who was studying their exchange. “Did he drink all these?” she asked, pointing to the display bottles.

“Sure did,” Gob answered. “Would not stop talking about growing up in the vault, and then leaving the vault. Talked a lot about you, actually.”

Rosie blinked, her heartrate steadily increasing. “What?”

The bartender gave a dismissive shrug. “But then he started singing, which soured the mood.”

Despite herself, Rosie smiled, amused by the thought. Plus, he’d been talking about her—she didn’t know what about, and he’d been drinking—but that certainly made her emotions aflutter.

“You’re cute when you smile, Stitches,” Butch mumbled, head titled to the side as he stared up at her with a sideways, dreamy smile.

Rosie instantly felt her face flood with heat. Gob smirked at the two and all she desperately wanted was to get out of sight from him and Butch. Speechless, she fumbled through her skirt pockets for a handful of caps, placing them on the counter, implying it was for the mess and for any unpaid drinks. She tightened her hold around Butch’s waist, holding onto the arm wrapped around her shoulder as counter-balance as she hoisted him from the barstool.

Gob watched the two. “Got him?”

“Ssshe’s got me!” Butch answered for the both of them with a beaming grin.

Rosie clenched her teeth, sucking in a breath as she adjusted him again, nudging at his feet so he’d support the weight of his own legs. It was a futile effort, but she’d helped carry heavier people with her father down in the vault. She could help an inebriated Butch walk back to her house across town…maybe. Gob still moved from behind the bar to push open the front door to make her exit easier. Caught up in the moment, she offered him a passing remark.

“If you hear a loud crash, we’ve fallen from the rafters. Please send our bodies to Moira,” she instructed sardonically. “For science.” 

x ------- x

Butch was of no help in the journey across town. Rosie would’ve guessed he had fallen asleep if it weren’t for the occasional drag of his feet and giggle, followed by an incoherent stream of words. All the while, she couldn’t help but wonder what had led to his sorry state—why’d he chosen to drink so much in the first place. Rosie knew he had the penchant for it—a bad habit learned from his mother—she was naïve to think the pattern would drop now that he was on the surface. Thinking back to her medical training and knowledge on addictive personalities, it wasn’t always so easy. The best thing she could do was to be there for him—he had done the same for her when she went through the paces of the emotional trauma of her father’s death—maybe the Wasteland was finally getting to him. Regardless, she could be a supportive friend. Friends—that’s what they wanted to be, right?

What if she wanted more?

“Ugh.”

“Huh?”

Rosie ignored Butch’s confusion and pushed open the front door, nearly tripping over her own feet in the process.

“Good evening, Miss Sheridan,” Wadsworth greeted as soon as they entered her Megaton home. “Oh, and Mr. DeLoria, he appears to be incapacitated. Do you require assistance?”

Rosie nodded as she continued dragging his body along side hers towards the stairs. The robot-butler instantly floated over, gently sliding a metal appendage under his other arm to assist in carrying him up to the second floor.

“Do you need the bathroom?” Rosie asked him, repeating the question when Butch shook his head too quickly. “Are you sure?”

“I ain’t gonna hurl,” he assured, a whine in his voice.

She was more worried about him pissing his pants but wasn’t about to embarrass him (or herself) by stating the fact out loud. Wadsworth continued to help carry him to the smaller bedroom, depositing him on the edge of the mattress where he promptly flopped backwards, arms flung to the side.

“I shall fetch you some water!” the Mister Handy exclaimed, whizzing away to perform his task.

Rosie exhaled like she had been holding her breath since leaving Moriarty’s, wondering if her pulse would ever settle. She glanced over her shoulder to find Butch sprawled out on his bed, legs dangling off the edge and boots twitching against the metal flooring. It would’ve been an amusing sight, if he weren’t so intoxicated. With another sigh she approached, quietly sitting down next to him.

“I’m taking your boots off,” she explained, looking up at his face to see his eyes were closed.

He hummed in response. “Oh-kay.”

One, two clunky black combat boots fell to the floor with a clang, and Wadsworth returned with a bottle of purified water. After another whirl of his robotic arms, he left the room, leaving the two alone. Rosie tapped Butch on the knee with the bottle.

“Sit up,” she instructed, shaking him harder when he didn’t move. “You need to drink some water.”

Slowly, he lifted himself onto his elbows, head rolling like it contained bricks instead of a squishy brain—she wondered sometimes if that were actually the case. He pushed himself up and swayed close, lips quirked up in a smirk.

“He-llo.”

Rosie bit her tongue at the foul stench emanating from his mouth, wishing Wadsworth had brought bubblegum as well. Oh well—Butch could worry about his hygiene in the morning—no doubt his hair would be a mess too. She pushed the purified water into his hand and guided it to his mouth, sliding away only when he started to drink on his own. When it was empty and sitting on the nightstand, he began wriggling out of his leather jacket, only to get the sleeve stuck on his Pip-Boy, as expected. Rosie shifted around to help him, half-standing, half-kneeling on the bed as he almost resisted her help, until he noticed their compromising position. As soon as his Tunnel Snakes jacket and Pip-Boy laid discarded on the foot of the bed, he wrapped an arm around her waist, nearly knocking their heads together.

“If ya’ wanna get closer to me, that’s all you gotta say, girl,” he muttered, sending sparks across her skin.  

Impulsively, she pushed away, standing upright, almost falling backwards from how dizzy she felt. Butch looked up at her, steely eyes glazed over in mild confusion. She needed to set the situation straight immediately, before boundaries were crossed and feelings were hurt. Her feelings.

“That’s not what’s happening right now,” she spoke quickly, waving her hands.

He followed the movement of her fingers, and she wasn’t sure if he understood. The silence stretched on for too long, Butch staring at her with doe-eyes, the softest hint of a smile. Why wasn’t he saying anything? And why couldn’t she say anything back? Rosie thought about forfeiting and leaving him as he was when there was the most subtle change to his expression, brows furrowing as his eyes flickered across her face.

“I—I don’t feel so good,” he mumbled before falling backwards.

Rosie jumped into action, shifting his body so he was laying properly along the bed, repeatedly checking his vital signs to ensure he was only passing out from exhaustion and not acute liver poisoning. Eventually, she moved his jacket and Pip-Boy aside, pulling the blanket over his body so she could better tuck him in—if he got chills during the night, he’d appreciate the warmth. Just as she was pushing herself off the bed, Butch’s finger’s tightened around her wrist.

“Hey, don’t,” he murmured into the pillow, one eye peeked open. “Stay?”

Rosie was about to protest when he smiled, and her chest tightened with a kind of yearning she was only recently familiar with. She didn’t want to leave him, not now, not ever. Through the good, the bad and the drunkenly. Even if he didn’t feel the same way about her, romantically—she’d find a way to get over it—just as she’d done before in the vault. Without offering him an answer, she scooted towards the headboard, leaning her back against it and stretching her legs along the sheets next to his body. Butch eyed her, but he surprisingly didn’t make a snarky remark about her choosing not to snuggle up close. Instead, he lifted his head and plopped it right into her lap, hooking his arm loose around her legs.

More silence fell over them, more quiet that Rosie didn’t know what to do with. She didn’t know where to put her hands, wringing them awkwardly by her chest as she studied Butch’s profile. His eyes were closed, usually coifed hair now a wavy mess hanging down his forehead. Hesitantly, she rested her fingers there, pushing back the black strands, studying the faint constellation of freckles she’d never noticed before dotted across his skin. When she noticed his smile increase she repeated her movements, steadily combing her fingers through his hair and across his scalp in a calming motion that reminded her of being cradled as a toddler in her father’s arms. This was far more intimate, however.

“Love you Rosie,” he mumbled into the fabric of her skirt.

She froze immediately, staring at his face wide-eyed and frantic. What? What? Her heart seized to beat for a second before fluttering to life so rapidly, it felt like she was going to have a stroke. He had to be drunk still, or she had to be dreaming. Or both. Maybe she was inebriated. As the thoughts swirled in her head, sending her into a panic, Butch continued, unaware of her stunned reaction.

“You’re my best friend.”

Oh.

Rosie swallowed the lump in her throat, but only found herself conflicted. So it wasn’t romantic love, but…platonic? That was still one hell of a confession, coming from Butch, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t letdown. Even with all the sudden fear that settled over her, it didn’t compare to the disappointment she felt now. Though, it wasn’t the first time she’d had unrequited feelings, and she was sure it wouldn’t be the last. That didn’t mean she was about to throw away a friendship forged from a rocky past.

Butch hugged her knees a little tighter. “You’re all I got left, ya’ know? The only one who’d take care of a sad sack like me.”

Rosie smiled, brushing her thumb across his forehead in an affectionate sweep. Completely unsure of what to say, or how to respond, she hoped it was enough. She was sure that he would’ve never said these things to her sober, anyways. If she said anything now, he wouldn’t remember, so it was better to enjoy the moment while it lasted. As soon as he was asleep, she would sneak away and decompress in her own room, try to sort through the emotional weight of it all. She decided that if he didn’t recall tonight in the morning, she’d not bother with bringing it up to him again—no need to embarrass him—even if she’d remember it forever. Rosie thought about what he said, realizing it was true. Butch was all she had.

Maybe one day, she’d tell him too.  

[homosexual-vampire-prince]

having thoughts about queer sexuality and my own identity today.

I love and am attracted to women, but picturing myself as a man in a relationship with a woman makes my skin crawl. But if a queer woman or sapphic nonbinary person called me their boy in a butch/masc woman way? i would simply die of queer joy.

At the same time, the thought of being with a man as a woman is repulsive, but when i think about being a queer boy or gay (for men) nonbinary person’s partner it makes my heart feel like it’ll burst out of my chest with happiness.

I’m in a relationship with a nonbinary person, and they make me feel connected to both the sapphic side of my identity and the gay (for men) side, and i love being their loverboy (in a masc woman and fem boy way).

I feel weird calling myself bisexual nowadays, to be honest, because i’m very much homosexual, only in two directions!

Also for the record if you’re a man who loves women and/or a woman who loves men, this is not a jab at you, just my own feelings about my own queerness. You do you :-)