#it’s charming in the same way that a Butch is charming

[linoguy]

this clip of changbin feels me w such immense joy, specifically the pose. it is such a grand pose and it’s so masc, masc in the way that I and other lesbians express our pride as mascs or butches. it reminds me of readings where a butch is happy to pose for their femme. just that very over the top masculinity but it’s still playful, and that’s exactly what I aim for too. He’s so purely happy to be masculine and prideful of his body and it makes me so happy to recognize the same things within me that are in him

[10hourshift]

ughhh I haven't been able to draw much lately but hear me out

picture this in your minds

[goldyke]

You know who I love? Butches who wear culturally significant men’s clothing because honoring their experience with gender honors their culture

You know who else I live? Butches who wear culturally significant women’s clothing because honoring their cultural experience honors their gender expression

[sluttynfemme]

The Rise and Fall of a Lesbian Situationship

chapter one- call me hot, not pretty

contains: butch4femme, praise kink, derogatory praise, vaginal fingering, light masturbation, strap-ons, slight overstim, explicit consent

The joint you smoked with Miron makes everything soft and hazy. At some point, one of you stubs its smoldering remains out and you migrate from the balcony to her bedroom.

Miron has tacked up multi-colored string lights over her bed and they cast an indigo hue over the plain comforter and walls. You throw yourself onto her bed and hum at the rush of Miron that overwhelms you—smoke, fresh linen, and cologne. It’s so very masculine and butch, and you want to roll around in it like a kitten with catnip.

She chuckles behind you and you feel the graze of fingers on your back thigh. The touch is fleeting. “Make yourself comfortable, princess,” she says.

You’re glad it’s dark because the pet name, even after all this time, still makes you blush.

When you turn your head and peer through your mess of hair, a new source of light bathes the room in white. Miron is fiddling with the TV remote, flipping through movies and shows. Nothing catches her attention, not even the tried and true action movies you know she loves.

You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch her scroll for a few more moments.

“Here,” you say finally. “Give it to me. There’s this anime I’ve been meaning to show you.”

Miron raises a dark eyebrow at you. From this angle, the crookedness of her nose is apparent. Not that you mind. You’ve always thought it made her more handsome. One too many fights, is what she told you when you asked.

“An anime?” she repeats skeptically. Her stupid British accent makes your gut twist with attraction. You’re horny and it makes you stupid. You swallow.

“Yeah.” You push yourself up further, coming to rest on your knees. “You’ll like it. Pretty colors, fight scenes, a hot girl or two. It’s your type.”

Miron has always been able to manipulate you like soft putty in her hands—but she isn’t the only one. You’ve been so good at getting her to do what you want. You’ve known each other for almost 6 months now and you know Miron’s greatest weakness is a pretty girl. It takes some coaxing and pouting, an adjustment to the way you sit so she can admire the length of your legs, but she caves.

You know she only agrees because she doesn’t think she’ll actually be paying attention to the screen. You can tell by the hungry way she looks at you. Most late night hangouts like this end the same way—with the takeout and television abandoned and you naked in her bed.

That’s okay. You know this when you tempt her. You have plans for Miron Sikkari.

With the anime chosen, the two of you settle into her bed. Miron goes first, placing one arm behind her head and beckoning you in with the other. Settled into her side, the smell you’d appreciated earlier is only stronger; warmth blooms in your gut as you find yourself wholly surrounded by it. A shiver trickles down the length of your spine and you sink deeper into Miron when it passes. It’s so hard to relax but Miron’s arms around you and the haze of marijuana leaves you no choice.

You rest your head on her shoulder, leg swung over her tattooed thighs, and you feel warm and safe tucked into her side. A quick glance up reveals that Miron is intently watching the show you picked. This makes you bite your bottom lip, holding onto the mirth.

“So?”

Miron glances at you from the corner of her eye, her mouth tugging into the shape of amusement.

“So?” she mimics.

You elbow her. “So, what do you think?”

“S’alright. You’ve got a point about the colors.” Her eyes move to focus on you and she grins, a flash of white in the dark. The internal screaming in your head grows louder; you consider yourself thoroughly charmed.

“The episodes are only 20 minutes long,” you supply, ever so helpful.

She laughs and you feel it vibrate through her chest. It’s a wonderful sensation, one you greedily want to keep to yourself. You’re not naive enough to think you’re the only girl Miron pays attention to but you hope you’re the only one who makes her laugh.

“That they are. But y’know, I’m starting to think this supposed ‘bad guy’ may have some points… Doesn’t hurt he’s a good lookin’ guy. They’re just jealous he’s got game and they don’t.”

You scoff but scoot in closer. “You’re missing the point… Keep watching.” And she does.

But now that you’ve thought about Miron laying in this bed with other girls, you can’t stop. You wonder if she plays with their hair like she’s playing with yours or if her hand likes to find the sensitive spot on their ribs just under their breast and rub circles. Your mind churns with the possibilities.

The feelings that accompany those possibilities are complicated. You think of the likely candidates to have made it to this bed and compare yourself to them.

You knew what you were asking for when you started fucking Miron Sikkari regularly. Among the large pool of sapphic people at your university, it’s well-known that Miron doesn’t do monogamous relationships. Hell, you all know that she just doesn’t do relationships, period. And still Miron has no trouble finding connections because you all also can’t resist the warmth of her charm.

To your credit, you’re her longest standing hookup outside of maybe Julia (god, you hate her) but you know that doesn’t mean much. To Miron, at least.

When Miron texts you at 10 o’clock on a weeknight, of course you answer. You know what she wants and you’re more than happy to give it to her. Even if you’re pining after her like every other queer girl on campus, the sex is worth the emotional hell.

God, the idea of Miron laying here touching other girls—girls you know, girls you’re friends with—the way she’s touching you right now doesn’t even make you sad; you’re just fucking angry, but at who?

Jealousy makes you stupid. Being horny does, too. They don’t combine well.

Miron is properly distracted by the show, so you decide now is a good time to make a move. With jealousy and need intertwining in your gut, you decide you’re done simply laying on her chest.

One of your hands is splayed over her stomach. The hem of her tee has bunched up over her hip, revealing a small triangle of smooth tan skin, and you slowly begin to inch your fingers towards it. Even in the winter, Miron manages to retain her gorgeous olive skin and you hate her just a little for it.

The pad of your thumb brushes over her hipbone and you feel her suck in the smallest of breaths. You’re sure she doesn’t even realize it. She’s still staring at the TV, watching colorful characters fight off an angry demon. You’ve seen this anime so many times you can’t even count so it’s easy to keep your attention on Miron.

You continue with small touches, light as you trail them from one hipbone to the other. As you do this, you note Miron’s responses. Her fingers splay against your side and her muscles shift and flex under you. When you run your thumb over the raise of her abdominal muscles, her breathing goes steady and controlled. Miron has always been affectionate, needy for touch in a way much different than your own. It’s one of your favorite things about her and you’re sure it’s what makes her so hard to resist. She’s just so good at making you feel special. Needed, even.

Your fingers brush over her happy trail, your thumb catching on the elastic of her boxers. Her hips twitch—fucking finally, you think—and her grip noticeably tightens.

“What happened to watching your show?” she asks in a low, scratchy voice, hands already beginning to roam.

“I’m bored,” you murmur into her neck. Trailing your nose from her collarbone to her jaw, you find the tender spot behind her ear and place a gentle, teasing kiss there.

“Bored?” She groans as you kiss her neck, peppering a few kisses at the base and paying special attention to other spots with your tongue. “Fuck. Then I suppose we’ll have to do something about that. I take my duties as host—ah, very seriously and I can’t have the guest of honor bored.”

You hum your agreement but continue focusing on the task at hand. There’s a spot you know she particularly likes but finding it is always tricky. You drag your tongue along her skin and nip at the flesh under her jaw. The arm Miron had tucked behind her head comes around and now there are two hands on you, roaming and grasping at your sides, your waist, the nape of your neck.

Purposefully, you suck hard on a spot near her carotid. You pause, soothe it with your tongue before you latch with your lips again. You lay claim to this expanse of Miron’s neck and wickedly hope it deters any other girls she might approach throughout the weekend. Fingers lace through your hair and grip your curls close to your skull.

A whine escapes you and you pant against her. She hasn’t even touched you and yet her attention, the anticipation of being under her microscope, excites you.

Suddenly, those two strong hands are on your waist and you’re being tugged on top to straddle her hips. Miron is firm and warm beneath you and you take a moment to admire her. The details of her features are lost in the dim lighting but you see the angle of her jaw, the shadow of her grin, the glint of something hard in her eyes. There’s something so incredibly butch about her in this moment and it makes you throb with want.

One hand remains on your hip. The other reaches up under your shirt to cup your breast, thumb over the barbell of your piercing, and then her mouth is on yours, hot and persistent.

Miron has always kissed you like this—a little forceful, dominating as she slips her tongue in your mouth and stakes a claim. She’s insistent but methodical, an expert of her craft. You suck on her bottom lip and she kisses you harder.

The hand on your hip begins to guide you, encouraging the rock of your hips as your arms come over her shoulders and you lose yourself in Miron’s kiss. You’re still high and this only makes you dizzier. Her fingers dig into the flesh between your thigh and hip and you moan into her.

When she twists and pulls at your nipple, toying with the piercing mindlessly, you whine openly. Miron pulls away because she likes to watch you. Sometimes you like to put on a show, exaggerating the hitch of your breath and slow roll of your hips. Right now, though, you’re uncontrolled and wild. Your eyes squeeze shut because it just feels so damn good. She rubs circles on your hips and toys with your piercings and fuck you just can’t fucking think straight because you just feel so much.

You lean against her, face pressed into her shoulder. Miron has ignited an unignorable need inside you and you need her to do something to cool the fire before it consumes you. You don’t want to be an overstimulated mess but then again you and Miron probably have different objectives.

“Fuck,” Miron murmurs against you. “You’re pretty like this. You’re so fucking perfect like this.”

You’re so bad with words when you get like this and she knows it. Any other day, any other time, you could match her charm with something at least partially intelligent.

Right now, all you manage is a breathy little moan. Miron chuckles and grabs the meat of your ass. “Just a perfect princess, aren’t you?”

You nod against her. You are, aren’t you? This you believe in wholly.

That’s one thing you know you hold over the girls Miron might see. None of them are stone, none of them are you.

Even with as diverse a queer population as your university has, you and Miron are two of only a handful of stone lesbians on campus.

You know Miron enjoys the random girls’ company but you are different. She knows you’ll never ask to reciprocate or touch her. You are happily content to be fucked sideways until she is tired and done. This, you know from experience, takes quite some time. You take it gladly. Do they?

Miron flips you on to your back and there her fingers are, tugging at the sides of your pants. She’s honed in on you, her gaze raking over your form. You lift your hips for her and she takes off your pants without much effort. You not so subtly tug at the hem of her shirt.

“Off,” you say.

“Bossy tonight, then.”

You roll your eyes.

Miron kneels between your legs. Like this, her tattoos stretch across her sculpted, muscled thighs and you see the mouth of a tiger stretch over her knee.

When she takes her tee off, leaving her in a tight fitted sports bra, you see even more beautiful skin inked with tattoos of all shapes and sizes. You’ve sat and studied them before and your favorite is the barking doberman on her calf. From this angle, you can best view the dragon on her abdomen, done in heavy black. The scales and claws flow with the muscle, beautiful art on a beautiful body. Miron wears her physique and her tattoos like armor, one she is unwilling to remove.

Before she can ask, you reach for the bottom of your shirt and begin to pull it up. Miron, of course, assists you in this, ever the gentleman. She tosses it away.

This leaves you splayed beneath her in your underwear. Miron devours the sight of you, raking her eyes from your open thighs to your heaving chest, and you feel even wetter. Almost like she knows, Miron looks to the growing damp spot on your panties and you see the ghost of her smile. The television, completely forgotten, illuminates her from the back and casts her in shadow; it defines the swell of her biceps and width of her shoulders and you want to desperately wrap your legs around her waist.

“Look at you,” she says. Her eyes are hooded, dark with desire. One of her hands rests on your lower stomach and her thumb strokes the skin just under your navel. “I love getting you like this, you know. I bet you’re soaked and I haven’t even touched you.” With the other hand, she reaches down and runs a knuckle over you. It takes every ounce of your willpower not to shudder and whine. “Of course you are. You’re just a whiny, needy slut. So good for me.”

This breaks you. A strangled sound escapes your throat and you reach for her. “Miron, “ you whine. “Miron, don’t tease me.”

“Oh, but that’s my favorite part, sweetheart.”

She runs her knuckle over you a few more times, just enough that your hips have started squirming and you’ve started panting like a bitch in heat. You press your palms into your eyes and endure the torture.

She teases you mercilessly, stroking you over your panties and occasionally pressing her thumb into your clit. At some point, she leans over and kisses your stomach, peppers them over your rib, and makes her way to your nipples where she sucks one into her mouth and continues to toy with you.

Miron always pays such special attention to you and you love it.

Finally, when she’s satisfied, you feel her hands at your hips again and you immediately lift them. She pulls your panties off easily and the frustrating tension in your body only increases.

“Miron,” you gasp. “Please. Please touch me.” You’ve never been ashamed to beg.

“Look at me,” she says. You do.

She holds your gaze as she dips one finger into your cunt. Your breath catches as she runs a finger up your slit, gathering your cum and pausing to roll your clit between her fingers. She wants to know how swollen you are; she wants to know how far she can push you. Whatever she finds there pleases her because she lets out a low groan.

You jerk when she jerks her thumb over it and she laughs cruelly above you. “Poor baby… So sensitive. How do you want me?”

You struggle to answer, mind foggy with weed and desire, so she pauses her ministrations.

“Answer me, princess,” she repeats, firm.

“Fuck, ah. I-I want you hard. Please make me cum. I wanna come.” When she doesn’t return to touching you, you continue babbling. “I want you hard and fast. I want to come around you. Fuck, please. Please, Sir. Make me cum.”

Miron shudders and you know you’ve just said the magic word. Sir.

She doesn’t answer right away. She pauses just long enough that you notice it and you want to burst out of your skin.

Finally—

“Good girl.”

Miron pushes one finger in and you shudder, gasping as she quickly enters you. She isn’t kind, only momentarily checking to see if you can accommodate a second finger. You’re just a stupid slut, so of course you can. She inserts another and adjusts so she can pump into you. Miron is hard and rough with your cunt but she’s thorough, moving slowly and deliberately.

You writhe around her, whimpering and squirming as you struggle to decide if it’s too much or too little.

“Hold still.”

This is an impossible task for you and she knows it; her hand, large enough that it covers most of your lower stomach, moves to hold you down. Miron is so very much stronger than you which is why she doesn’t hold it against you when you only continue to squirm, bucking into her hand. Pinned in place, she fucks you just like you asked. The feeling is exquisite, perfect, and all-consuming.

You bite down on your fist to hold back the guttural moans as your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“Stop that,” Miron says and punctuates it with a punishing curl of her fingers. The sound you make is pathetic. “I wanna hear you. Go on. Let me hear you, princess.”

You remove your gag and, secure in the knowledge that you’ve been given permission, you cry out. The sounds you begin to make originate deep in your chest, scrape along the back of your throat as you grip the sheets and sob.

“Fuck,” you say. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“There it is. God, you’re fucking perfect. Look at you, so needy,” she croons. Pieces of her short, dark hair have fallen across her forehead and her brow is pinched in concentration. “Do you want to cum for me?”

“Yes,” you say. “Yes, yes, yes.”

You can feel that pressure building behind your navel and you know the orgasm will ruin you. Distantly, you still hear Miron speaking; she’s coaching you through it now, soothing you through the violent torrent of sensation. Her gentle words do not match the pace she’s set, stretching you around three fingers and digging into the spongy spot just inside your cunt. Your back arches and every muscle in your body coils so tight you think you might die. You feel yourself pulse around her and your breath catches.

“Then be a good girl and cum for me.”

The orgasm spills over you and you moan in relief. Your fingers and toes tingle; the tension finally dissipates. You ride her hand through the aftermath and she praises you for your endurance.

Miron pulls her fingers free and you whine at the loss. You watch as she places them in her mouth and cleans them, one digit at a time. You’re selective about when you allow her to put her mouth on you, so she always takes a moment to savor the taste of you.

She swears. “You taste so fucking good,” she says and you flush. Horny and stupid, you think.

You lay against the array of pillows, disoriented as you catch your breath. Miron moves from between your thighs, kissing your stomach but avoiding the spots she knows are too sensitive, and comes to lay beside you. She places another brief kiss on your temple, covers your naked body with a blanket, and plays with your hair for a minute or two.

“You’re always so mean,” you finally say. You don’t mean it.

Miron grins. “You like it,” she replies, and she’s right. You rest your eyes; you deserve it.

Even though she has just thoroughly ruined your pussy—you still feel yourself dripping on your thighs—you want more and you know she does too. Miron, who has been hyper-aware of the ‘predatory lesbian’ stereotype since you met her, always waits for you to ask for more.

You appreciate this about her; that she gives you the space to choose, even if she’s never given you reason to worry. You like that even though you know she’s starving for more, she never pushes for it.

Through your daze, you smell smoke. Sweet and musky, you peek open an eye. Miron has summoned another joint and lit up.

You shift, turning to face her. She’s watching you, mindlessly running her thumb over your temple. Smoke drifts from her mouth towards the running ceiling fan. She’s so handsome and your brain screams at you as your heart skips a beat. You know this is so stupid of you. You need to break it off soon, before she breaks your heart, but that is a problem for another day.

“Hi,” you say sheepishly.

“Hello,” she replies and takes another hit. There’s mirth in her eyes that makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

“Can I have some?” You pout a little bit and that makes her laugh.

“I don’t know… what’ll you give me for it?”

You narrow your eyes; Miron stares back, smug. Leaning over, you kiss her. You snake your arms around her neck and slip your tongue in her mouth. She tastes like smoke and she hums against you, seeking more. It’s no surprise when she attempts to slot her knee between your thighs; you almost let her.

With Miron distracted, you steal the joint and scoot away. She snorts and you take a hit. The burn in your throat is pleasant and familiar. As you take in another hit, Miron’s hands slip under the blanket and come around your waist. Her fingers are cold against your skin but you sigh into her. You don’t feel like bratting with her tonight. Silently, you offer her the joint over your shoulder and bring it to her lips when she accepts. The cherry glows red and Miron lets out a small cough to clear her throat.

You two smoke the second joint, ashing it in a cute tray shaped like a slice of pepperoni pizza. Miron only has to reach over you to get to it and her long, athletic arms make that very easy.

Miron leaves the roach smoking in the tray and you watch the thin lines of smoke rise to the ceiling. The smell of weed has become something of a comfort to you and you press yourself into Miron as you let it envelope you.

She nuzzles into your neck and you hum. The kisses she places on you are open-mouthed, and somewhere not too far from your collarbone, she leaves a hickey.

You stretch into her, relish in her warmth and the pleasure and the weed. It doesn’t take much, just a few kisses on the corner of your jaw as she rubs slow circles on your ribs, before you’re moaning again.

You know she won’t touch you anywhere until you ask. And while you don’t mind begging, there’s a part of your brain that is forgetting language and becoming a creature of need. It slows you down and Miron doesn’t like to wait. She bites your shoulder and her fingers pause their ministrations.

It takes you a few deep breaths to float back to your body. Miron is so still behind you, waiting.

“More,” you whine; your fingers dig into the bed. “I want more.”

She hums against you. “Good,” she says softly against your skin. Her fingers crawl inward from your hip and brush against your inner thigh. She finds you smeared all over yourself. “Fuck. You’re so fucking good for me, princess. C’mere. Open up.”

Strong arms pull you flush to her chest. Your head tips back. With one arm under you, she easily reaches your chest to play with as the other continues toward your ruined pussy.

When her fingers dip back into your mess, you mewl and jerk against her hand. Miron gently hushes you, runs her thumb over your nipple, and soothes you as she coaxes an orgasm out of you. She takes such care and time with this one, carefully riding the line of overstimulation with your clit.

You embarrass yourself, rutting and crying against her. Miron praises you for how good you are but you don’t believe her; she encourages you, coaches you through your breathing, and you fail to listen. You pant and grow frustrated with yourself.

You want to cum, you don’t want to disappoint her, you want a million things and all of them feel entirely out of reach. Orgasms like this don’t come easily to you and you don’t think you’re worth the time, but Miron is viciously determined. You want to tell her I can’t but the words won’t come. You know she would just say Yes, you can anyway.

Instead you make incoherent, babbling noises. Miron huffs into your shoulder, a small laugh as her lips curve into a smile against your skin. You squirm too hard and Miron slows her pace, reducing pressure. You go too still and she adjusts the pace as she massages your clit.

You’re not worth the effort but Miron gives it to you. When you cum for the second time, your moan stops in your throat. You cum silently, arched against her, and she holds you tightly as you spasm against her. The orgasm is a wave you ride out. Purple and blue lights dance behind your eyes.

When you stop twitching and you aren’t heaving and whimpering, she grabs your chin and makes you look over your shoulder at her. Her yellow eyes, hooded with desire and intoxication, search your face. “Do you have one more in you or are you done?”

You’ve been fucking consistently for almost three months now. Miron knows your limits and body well enough to know when you can’t take anymore—when you’re too fucked out to make a good judgement call. You, though you’re very close, haven’t quite reached that point.

You nod but that’s not enough for her.

“Say it,” she orders, her gaze piercing. She’s looking for signs that you’re not okay, but she finds none. Her attentiveness makes you feel safe with her.

“I have one more in me.” For good measure, you add: “Sir.”

Satisfied, she peels away from you and sits up. You close your eyes and rest while you can. Miron rummages around the room a bit and you hear the rustle of fabric. A part of you knows what’s coming and the anticipation is excruciating.

Miron has one drawer of her dresser dedicated to her various cocks. The colors and sizes vary, from a monstrous flesh-toned cock she’d received as a gag gift to a practical 5-inch magenta piece. You know she also keeps nipple clamps, silk rope, and flavored condoms right along side the organized basket of vibrators, all of which she keeps meticulously clean. Your favorite, the one she says she keeps for you, is long and black and stretches you wide open. But that’s not why you like it so much. It’s clearly Miron’s favorite too because you’ve felt the difference in the way she moves. You tried one other cock with her and hadn’t tried again; with the black strap, she moves like it’s an extension of her body, a real cock that she can feel you pulse around.

When she comes back to you, she touches a hand to your hip. You open your eyes and there she is above you, rubbing her cock with her left hand as she spreads lube over silicone. Cool fingers enter you as she mixes lube with your cum for safe measure—her cock is big but she always makes sure you’re ready for it.

“On your hands and knees,” she orders softly.

You adjust your position and rest your cheek on a pillow, arms stretched in front of you. The bed dips behind you as she takes her place and a pair of hands adjusts you, angling your hips to better take the brutal fucking coming your way.

“Now,” she says and the steel in her voice makes you quiver. She massages your ass and you feel yourself dripping. “If it’s too much, you’re going to use that word we talked about, yeah? Do you remember what that is?”

You comply, even if it makes you feel a little silly to say it aloud. “Strawberry.”

“And if you can’t speak?”

“Five taps on the bed… or on you.”

“Good girl,” she says and that’s when you feel her.

Compliance has earned you the thing you want most.

The head runs up and down your slit and its unexpected sensation makes you moan into the bed. She’s merciless with her teasing and when you moan too quietly, she brings her hand down hard on your ass. You yelp, but revel in the sting.

“That’s pathetic, princess. We both know you can do better.”

You don’t bother with a response. She doesn’t want your words; she wants obedience.

You feel the head at your entrance before its removed again, which makes you mewl. She runs a knuckle over the swollen length of your cunt, takes a nice look at you.

The sight of your pussy and the red palm print forming on your ass must be driving her insane. You know her wants just as well as she knows yours, so you know it’s especially cruel when you reach between your legs and use your pointer and middle finger to expose yourself. You expose the swollen nub of your clit and spread your labia so she can watch how you clench around nothing.

Miron sucks in a breath and goes so very still behind you. She’s entranced as you touch yourself. You make little noises for her, tiny sounds of pleasure because you want to drive her crazy. You want to see the control she holds over herself snap because she deserves to feel good too.

And it does snap. The head of her cock presses into you, stretching you wide, and she doesn’t stop until her hips are flush against you. The size alone has you groaning and clawing at the bed, the pressure intense and painful and delicious.

Miron kindly waits for you to adjust and experimentally moves her hips, dragging her cock out… and then pushing it back in.

You keen into the pillow, cursing and whimpering to yourself as she sets a pace. Hands position your knees just right and pull you up at the waist; they rest at your hips. Though she’s panting above you, the way she pulls in and out of you is intentional. Maybe it’s a punishment for teasing her so rudely.

You don’t really fucking care. It feels so good that you can’t think about anything else. Trying to survive the pleasure she inflicts upon you is your first priority.

So you rut and hump against her, pressing your ass against her hips and gasping when her cock reaches the deepest part of you. The sounds you make are no longer moans or groans or sighs of pleasure. You are animalistic. She’s stripped you to the nerve and peeled you open to reveal your honest wants.

No hiding, no shame, no fear of retaliation, you let her fuck you and you stop holding onto your responsibilities. They don’t matter. Not right now, not when she shifts her hand up and presses you deeper into the bed. She’s groaning your name, calling you pretty and telling you how goddamn stupid you make her. She puts you where she needs you and you trust her when she does. You know all she wants to do is make you cum, make you feel so good, and wouldn’t it be so cruel to take that from her?

You cry as her cock rubs against every inch of you. There’s a pulse building inside you and you want to give yourself over to it. Fingers dig into your skin. A mouth at the top of your spine across your shoulders. You whimper and beg for more.

Teeth and nails and the sting of impact on your ass make you cry harder. She pulls on your hair and you groan deep in your chest, rolling your hips in time with hers.

“Fuckkk, look at you. Look how pretty, such a good girl for me. My pretty little slut. Are you going to cum? I want you to cum, princess.”

You nod and babble and promise whatever they ask. Anything. Anything to cum, anything to relieve the agony of your orgasm.

Their lips travel your skin and leave a scorching path in their wake. Lips and touch and sensation overwhelm you.

“I wanna cum,” you babble. “Make me cum, please, I need to cum. Make me cum, please. Fuck, Sir. Sir, please I need it. I need it please.” The words tumble from your mouth. “I want you to cum inside me.”

The final slam of their cock—and you fall apart beneath them. Your orgasm escalates into a full-body experience and so every cell in your body explodes with release when you cum.

You come to… later. You’re not sure how long, but you’ve been moved onto your back and the mess between your legs is being cleaned up with something warm and damp. You moan, reaching for the person who hovers above you. This place where the pleasure is too great and you cannot speak leaves you vulnerable but you trust this person. They’ve never left you alone and cold before, so you trust that when you reach, they will come.

Warmth wraps around you and you nuzzle into the source, wrapping your arms around it tight. Hands stroke your cheek, draw shapes onto your shoulders, and slowly untangle the greater knots in your hair.

It takes you an hour to gather your wits. Miron lays with you, offering you water and cracking bad jokes as you regain your words and judgement. When you’re ready, you put your clothes back on and she walks you to the door. She waits on the landing of her apartment as you walk to your car and waves goodbye when you get inside and settle in.

You swallow and wave back, watching the broad shape of her back and shoulders disappear. You sit there in the silence, feeling tired and sticky.

Miron will text you again next Thursday night, as she always does. You don’t have a lab and she has an opening in her schedule that she leaves wide open for you. You might play dumb for thirty minutes, leave her on read for a while just to be mean, but you’ll be back.

Of course you’ll be back.

[murderyourbeloved]

ZER0 HCs

To start off with my Creepypasta HCs I did Zero! (These are just a few) 🧷They are Non-binary due to the fact that technically they are not human and either just a product of the imagination, regardless she goes by Any and She/Her pronouns, cause they don't really care what people address to them like. 🧷 She is best friends with Clockwork, both being the first true pal of each other since they became murderers. They met in jail and just thought they looked like freaks, and then said "fuck it" escaped like a duo and the rest is history. 🧷Along with Clockwork, Jeff and EJ, they are most onto the Zalgo side, since she considers that Slenderman is "too harsh" and "strict" on her eyes. 🧷Of course she is a free soul, being loud, confident and a pain in the ass most times, she stands by her beliefs and will not doubt on being mean to get her point across and humiliate others. Her true friends learned to accept this characteristic of her, since most times is part of her humor, she's not a toxic friend. 🧷Puppeteer's ex, he was her first partner ever, it was most her mentality of trying something new cause why not. She isn't used/very understanding of kind human interactions so that was also what made her role in the relationship hard, but mostly the red flags she started noticing in him, the way Puppeteer hid his abusive manipulative side in his natural charm so Zero took a step back herself to avoid any more conflict, obviously after insulting him. They are petty exes cause he still is trying to claim her back. (They are the type that if they realized they're in the same party Zero will try to avoid him at all costs and Puppeteer will try to get to her at all costs, it ends up awkward for the rest) 🧷Admires and relates to Laughing Jack in a way, but would not admit to it, her pride is bigger. 🧷Butch bi, but after Puppeteer she isn't interested in any romantic partner. 🧷She is mostly jokingly possesive with Clockwork, getting mad at the way she stopped hanging out with her so often to be with Toby, she is more mad at the proxy than at her friend. 🧷She'd rather die than admit her mistakes. 🧷Adicted to youtube essay videos about any topic and then rant about them later, knowing about the human race is unconsciously her hyperfixation.

🧷🧷🧷🧷🧷🧷🧷🧷🧷🧷🧷🧷🧷🧷🧷🧷🧷🧷

[thecartoonrambler]

Why Wander is such an important character

Very long post below!

Ill be rambling about Wander over Yonder, specifically, WANDER!!

The show in itself is already amazing, the episodes are short and fun, each character is oozing with personality and fun interactions and there are always ways in which it is all connected. Further on the animation of the show and overall look is absolutely adorable!

For me personally, Wander is simply such an important character and not for few reasons.

I love that Wander's silly happy go lucky personality is so addictive. He's a happy person, who gets happy by helping others in need, even to points where he gets himself in trouble (every episode LOL) But regardless i think they are such an important character traits to have (Happiness, altruism, Optimism).

In today's depressing and violent world, where everyone just fights with each other, a character like Wander can be a sense of hope or inspiration!

Of course, many main characters have these traits as well, but i think a key difference between Wander and many other optimist protagonists lies in their EXPERIENCE IN LIFE!

These other protags are innocent, naive optimists, because they haven't experienced "the real world" yet. And while it makes sense to have characters like these (as an allegory to growing up), they get really tiring and repetitive really quickly. They also commonly showcase optimism and naivety to go hand in hand. And its why a lot if people commonly believe that "realsim" is inherently "pessimistic" (it isn't btw. Theres good and bad in life, denying theres good, is denying reality)

Its extremely refreshing to have a main character like Wander, actually be hinted at being millennias old, repeatedly converting villains to good throughout the eons, out of a sense of duty (and perhaps also Pacifist revenge for his childhood, where its hinted that his entire planet was destroyed and he was the only survivor.)

not only is this also something that one learns, the more one watches (keeping the viewer intrigued) but the fact that so much about Wander's life and past is a mystery is what makes him a fascinating character. At first glance hes just some helpful guy, and the more you learn about him, the more you more you think "who is this guy?" Not in a negative way, but in a complete curiosity. Is it possible he's as old as the universe himself? If so does he know it? Who is he? What actually happened in his past? How did he live before his hat? Was there a time he wasn't as helpful? What caused him to change? Who is he? But at the same time, the viewer doesn't NEED to know. Theres no stress to, no hurry to uncover a mystery. Its like "mystery but it's actually completely low-key". I like that. (Im the kind to get into conspiracy theories or get crazy over plot holes, so the show managing this is insane)

Traits like these, especially in contrast to their personality being so so happy, child-like, goofy, charitable, it makes for an extremely interesting and fascinating character, that one doesn't commonly see in media! Which is really awesome! Someone that's seen so much horrors, lived through civil wars, yet tries to help a skeleton get together with a butch lesbian??

Its awesome!

Other that just that alone, he's helped me out personally! He in many ways reminds me of myself as a kid, i too was altruistic, always trying to help, struggled to say no, was positive and happy go-lucky and adventurous (well, as all kids i suppose), recently rediscovering the show made me realise how much i missed those personality traits in myself. That i had hidden them away, due to people making fun of me of being "too naive" and "too childish". Eventually Making me not talk to people really, and develop really bad self esteem. Rediscovering this show, and specifically how these "childish" traits can be seen in a very positive charming light, helped me realise that being scared of "coming off wierd", "coming off as toxic positivity" will always be worse than not being positive.... At all.

Ive heard from other people too that this show has helped them through tough times, and allowed them to reconnect with more positive thought patterns. Which is why i think characters like Wander are insanely important for media!!

Too much is too depressing all the time! We can create media (ESPECIALLY ADULT MEDIA) that isnt depressed. Positivity and happiness are not a crime! And im so glad a character like Wander exists to exhibit that!

[crguang]

Hello 🥺 could I know your thoughts about Cinnabar from ptn? 👉🏻👈🏻

hiii, i did her interro 5 minutes ago just to answer this lol. the first time i saw her i think i was in the garofano tag on tumblr and thought she was a dude, then read the post and went “my god that’s a beautiful butch!” which is super funny now that i know she says ppl mistake her for a man😭 the fact that she’s a woman magnet is the realest thing ever, she’s sooo charming and cute omg! literally the kind of woman you bring to your parents— i know parents love her BAD. “i’ll bring your daughter home by 9” type of woman. shes so respectful and polite i fell for her a bit and im usually attracted to morally grey/straight up evil women… shes so cuteee and the way she flushes easily when it comes to people crushing on her is super endearing. she’s not even oblivious to their affection she just keeps a professional distance from everyone and still gets flustered if you tease her a bit like aw

her interro was really different from the other sinners and it fits since we’re told she’s one of a kind in the beginning. it was more about reconciliation than revealing a tragic past or a conclusion to a tragic story, i enjoyed that. her convictions and determination to protect others just make her very charming despite her professional personality, no wonder her clients fall for her. if i had a handsome woman protecting me for hours i’d lowkey hire a hitman to threaten me to keep her around longer. can we talk about the last phase of her interro… it totally gave ”bringing my girlfriend home” vibes like what was that about?! “good friend” emphasized and in italics is crazy what does he mean by that… and why is she blushing at her father figure “accepting” chief WHAT IS GOING ON. im not yuripilled right they’re lowkey dating… she wanted chief to meet her familyyyy it was so sweet. and her taking every drink meant for chief so she doesn’t get drunk was hot as fuckkk, i wanna get very unprofessional with her like idk. she gives me the same vibes as nightingale and she’s one of my favorite characters so i really like cinnabar, i see the vision!

[abbysbasement]

ABBY ‘WAR MACHINE’ ANDERSON

—short thoughts

• A honey girl, always keeps a summer tan, usually from working out on the quad all day. Practically glowing all of the time and the girls are insane about it.

• Sorry, the braid is dead. Only ever really wears it on the rugby field, and when she’s walking around campus, her hair is usually down, or up in a bun and held back with a sweatband. Whatever mental image you’re conjuring in your mind, it’s correct. Even that one.

• Her father is the country’s premier neurosurgeon, and he’s donated a lot of money to Jackson University. A library there, a faculty building there, even refurbishing the rugby field for the season. He practically gives a blank check each year, and because of this, consequences don’t really exist for Abs and she gets away with any and everything. The reason why she has an air fryer in her dorm and the RAs pretend like they don’t see it.

• Proud community strap. Was notorious freshman year for having a rotating cycle of girlfriends and side pieces. ‘Those are not healthy coping mechanisms, Abby.’ Her therapist says, but is there really any better way to ease your mind that slipping deep into a warm body, tight and soft and wet? No, probably not.

• Has the prettiest smile, smiles with her eyes, always so charming with plump, kissable lips. Has perfect teeth, never missed a dentist appointment and gets check ups religiously. Had braces in the 10th grade and when she had her first kiss with a girl she cut her lip and it bled all down her mouth. She probably fainted idk.

• Girl himbo (I know what I said.) butch himbo? Butchbo? Actually super smart and well read, majoring in animal science to become a vet tech. Spends a lot of her time in the school library, when she’s not on the field, or at a party, or in a stranger’s bed. Or in her own bed, nursing a hangover, whatever’s more common.

• Still roommates with Manny since freshman year. Originally she got set up with Leah, who then of course wanted to room with her boyfriend, who was conveniently dorming with Manny. A little form-filling here, some schmoozing there, a little ‘my dad owns this school’ over yonder and it was a match made in heaven. Nobody has a deeper, more intimate connection than a butch lesbian and her boy best friend.

• Terribly afraid of needles. She can’t pinpoint specifically what she has against them but they inspire the same nausea in her that heights do, so when she can she steers clear of them. In a turn of drunken, reckless events, Manny convinced her to get her ears pierced, because pretty girls love stud earrings, obviously. By the time the piercer did one ear, Manny had to carry her out of the parlor because she had COMPLETELY passed out.

• Between classes and practice, she forgot to clean her piercing and her ear got infected. She had two large-scale mental breakdowns; the first when she woke up leaking and burning from her ear, which had already sucked the metal halfway into the flesh, and the second, when her dumbass roommate said, “it’s okay, man. I have pliers, I can pull it out for you and then you’re good as new.” She almost threw up.

• The great piercing debacle of ‘21 ended in her calling up her dad, bawling, because she didn’t know what to do, Manny sitting on the couch listening to her freak the fuck out in the bathroom. “This is what happens when you put foreign objects into your body, Abs.” He chided, as *another* needle was plunged into her skin —local anesthetic— before he sliced open her earlobe with a scalpel.

• The proud driver of a cherry-red enclosed Jeep Wrangler, fully paid off by her dad as a highschool graduation gift, an upgrade from the white Audi she got as a 16th birthday present. She gets it rewrapped every six months —the ice blue was real popular with the ROTC girls, the olive green got the environmental club girls out of their panties, the red and black is a pretty good catch-all— (school colours, by the way!)

• Gets her car detailed once every two weeks, the back seat has those mud mats laid down. they’re not for mud.

• Retired horse girl, ALMOST got a pony for her fourteenth birthday! Then, shit happened… and she didn’t get the pony for her fourteenth birthday.

• Loves revenge and power plays, actually! It’s her specialty at this point😚 Got into some medium-tier beef with some dickhead on campus, and somehow his mouth got ahead of him and ended with her being branded as the town’s bulldyke. Interestingly enough, the day didn’t end in Anderson-typical violence. Instead, as one does, she trailed him home one day, borrowing Nora’s black sedan for recon. Just for field research, obviously!

• In the interest of honesty, Abs was definitely planning on stealing the wheels off of his car, or putting bleach in his gas tank, —sugar is a myth, just so you know— until she saw the most beautiful creature strolling out of the house and into a white SUV. Then, her plan changed for absolute scorched-earth total destruction, to an excruciating slow-burn.

• The next week, while shopping at the grocery store which she totally didn’t drive 30 minutes out of her way to go to, she had her first meet cute, coincidentally, with a gorgeous 40-something that just so happened to be some asshole’s mom.

• Before she knew it, she was fucking her on every surface in her house, —artfully furnished, great feng-shui— the kitchen, the bathroom, her marital bed, the couch, essentially the full tour, until they got to her son’s bedroom. Kept a mental note, and when she excused herself to the bathroom she probably erased all of the little shit’s PlayStation saves, too.

• When you start fucking a guy’s mom, it changes you. Your wardrobe especially. Including an arsenal of completely coincidental, just for fun slogan tees, with hits like “I ❤️ HOT MOMS!” “PROMOTED TO DADDY” and a personal favourite, “MAN, I LOVE FISHING!”

* And of course, she comes back to campus fresh off of a 3 hour stint of eating out a woman twice her age, to greet her new best friend with a smile and a, “Hey, your mom makes a good apple fritter! Dessert was fuckin’ greaaat, too! Practically finger lickin’ :)”

* CEO of revenge, comedically evil.

[pleuvoire]

me and the gang's judgment on gender configurations of blue lock ships:

nagireo - the ultimate applicable pairing that works as yaoi, yuri, or het in both directions. m!nagi+f!reo kind of builds upon and exaggerates the inherent "reo is the girl in the relationship" subtext of the original in a way that...doesn't super appeal to me personally but i can't deny it works on a narrative level and feels very fitting. on the other hand f!nagi+m!reo is EXCELLENT and me and the gc have latched onto it despite our usual heterophobia. what if a tall useless lazy gamer girl got discovered by a perky charming guy determined to make her the world's best soccer player... and what if they were t4t also.... and of course yuri nagireo fucking rules eternally

kunigiri - canonically het by default to ME (tgirl chigiri agenda 4 lyfe) but yuri kunigiri is also really good. butch x tomboy... gym rat muscle butch cis girl x androgynous bifeauxnen trans girl... i have no opinions on any gendered configuration of kunigiri that involve chigiri being a guy because that doesn't real to me.

isarin - dude toxic yuri isarin slaps so fucking hard. girls devouring each other and tearing each other to pieces with their teeth let's GOOOOOO!!!!! m!isagi+f!rin isn't viable to me though because if isagi acted that way to a woman i would have to fucking kill him. on the other hand f!isagi+m!rin with isagi being a deranged straight girl about it is kind of interesting like maybe straight girls should get to attempt to tear their love interest's throat out with their teeth as well except the problem is i can't really see any male version of rin being into women even in an au. and also if you want deranged girl isagi then yuri isrn is right there. have i mentioned yuri isrn rules

ryusae - tbh ryusae is eminently yurifiable because sae has all those elegant ice queen tropes going on and shidou is a faggy gyaru so it's really easy to just flip them over that line. and guess what? yuri sdse fucking rules. and furthermore i think it's really fun how much yuri sdse fanart gives off t4t vibes and we've got a whole t4t yuri sdse mind palace over there in the gc. het sdse is less good though because as oomf said, either sae is the woman and it just feels like the same pairing but less fun (also i would have to kill shidou for talking like that to a woman) or shidou is the woman and that honestly makes sae look kinda gay like wdym you have this super hot gyaru gf obsessed with you and you just act cold to her 🤨

that's all the bllk pairings i have any real feelings about. the conclusion of this post is that yuri fucking rules and het is only provisionally allowed sometimes. thanks for tuning in

[gunslinginnhogtyin]

I am so late to the game for this one and don't expect you to bang this out if there's already too many! Even though they're not a ship (YET???), what do you think a kid between Rach and Butch would come out like? My bet is the wildest little raccoon child to ever exist.

@splinter-sister

If they had a kid… // @splinter-sister

• Name: Robert “Bo” Donahue-Miller

• Gender: male

• General appearance: Has naturally tired and down turned blue eyes and long lashes, brown fluffy hair that never seems to be able to sit right even when combed, and sharp teeth that will only grow back sharper when he loses them. Bo prefers comfort over fashion so more often than not, he’s wearing an oversized shirt or one of his moms comfy jackets. He wears rain boots even when it’s sunny outside and has a croc collection ongoing with charms and all; his favorite pair is a pair of cowboy boot crocs, though he only wears them on special occasions! He inherited the demon tail but oddly enough—no horns!

• Personality: Bo is very outspoken, sometimes without even meaning to be; this tends to hurt feelings which makes keeping friends for him a bit tricky when they’re under the impression that he’s just being a meanie. Hes introverted enough as it is! He’s also very rebellious, borderlining Thing 1 and Thing 2. Tell this boy to do something and he will do the opposite just to spite you or to make himself laugh. Bo is the drifter sort, lax enough to get along with just about anyone while also having a hard time ‘finding his place’. If he’s comfortable around someone, they’ll find that he’s actually pretty goofy.

• Special talents: definitely has Rachael’s Splinter’s gene. Maintains some of Butch’s demon-like abilities as well but only when he’s emotionally charged (which can be scary for Butch and Rach at times). He’s also quite artistically inclined!

• Who they like better: while they’re both pretty relaxed in the way they’ve brought him up, I feel like Bo may take advantage of his fathers more chaotic tendencies to get out of trouble/stay up late/get extra snacks after dinner or what have you. They would both definitely fuss at him if he got in trouble but I have a feeling Butch might not take it all that seriously considering his own track record, and for that Bo is thankful. ADDITIONALLY CONSIDER… both of them because imagine Rachael and Butch doing the same thing behind each others backs only to find out he’s been getting EXTRA extra because they both love him too much lsjsksjs

• Who they take after more: Rachael in the way that he’s definitely more introverted and laid back than he is energetic and sociable. He’d rather be at home, watching TV or drawing than out and about with a bunch of people. He loves a good adventure of course (who doesn’t?) but only with a tight nit few he’s comfortable around. He’s a big napper and will 100% sleep in if no one wakes him up—he’s not a morning person!

• Personal headcanon(s): Bo has a pet turantula named Spike who will sit on his shoulder and go places with him. He loves music and already knows how to play a few songs on guitar! He also has a keyboard he messes with because it makes funny sounds. Loves video games, begs Rachael and Butch to play Roblox with him all the time (Butch tries his best to appease him but absolutely has no idea what he’s doing). He’s big into retro games as well. Bo is a fan of harmless pranks and has definitely done this to Butch atleast ONCE after seeing this video.

[scarlet--wiccan]

What type of character do you think Wanda has the best dynamic with?

Women, mostly. I think Wanda is somebody who really likes being around other girls. I know it's not strictly canon, but I think about those backup stories from First Class, where she and Jean hang out, all the time-- Wanda appreciates female friendships. She has very easy chemistry with any character who is girly and feminine in the same way that she is, but it's also very easy for her to find common ground with other women of color, immigrants, and anybody who's had similar experiences. And while I hate to invoke gender essentialism, I do think that witchcraft and womanhood are very closely linked in Wanda's mind, so there's an immediate sense of sisterhood and community there, which she places a lot of value on.

In general, I think Wanda thrives under certain types of friction or contrast. It brings out a sort of wry humor in her, and generally speaking, she tends to charm most people she meets, which results in a fun sort of push and pull. She's good at teasing and ribbing people. Clint and Tony are really good examples, in terms of her Avengers teammates. There's something similar in her dynamics with Agatha or Stephen-- she respects them, but at this point in her life, she's not going to take shit from either of them. She's their peer, and she knows it, and that's a lot of fun.

I, personally, find that Wanda plays really well against tough, sort of bruiser characters. Wanda brings an extremely feminine, romantic, and emotive energy which provides an easy chemistry with anyone who is more gruff or stoic. Whether that chemistry works in a fun way depends on the writer. But, that brings me to my favorite thing about Wanda, which is that she's sort of a butch magnet. This is more of a recent development, but any time she's around women who are in any aspect masculine, gender-nonconforming, or lesbian-coded, I feel like there is just palpable gay tension. Unfortunately, I don't think she's had a lot of page time with, like, prominent, canonically gay women, but uhhhhhh... y'know, all the more reason for her to team up with Vicky Montesi.

[gomosmorodina]

Tarantino movies for the ask game🫵 And you’ve provably been asked already but I’m also curious to get your opinions on brba/bcs!

since you're the first one asking about brba/bcs, it will be a huuge post

tarantino:

my favorite female character: jackie brown!!!! and also shoshanna, she's such a strong and brave character!

my favorite male character: this game is an evidence that i can't choose one favorite thing lol. so i'll say cliff booth, dr schulz and butch!! and max cherry hehe

my favorite film: inglorious basterds forever

my favorite cast member: samuel l jackson. i love his presence, at least in tarantino's films. very very charismatic

my favorite ship: jackie and max!!!!! give me more couples who are not high-schoolers or young adults.

a character I’d die defending: maybe tarantino himself! let him be extremely violent and use slurs in his movies, he has a point

a character I just can’t sympathize with: there's tons of fucked up guys in tarantino's films, but it would be interesting to say about rick dalton... he is okay, he will be okay, why do i have to feel sorry for him? but probably that was the intention hehe

a character I grew to love: tbh i don't remember much the hateful eight, but i remember how drastically changed my opinion about sam jackson's character. by the end of film i was like "DAAAAAMN HE'S BADASS"

my anti otp: all of the relationships and interactions in these films are cool, i can't think of any

brba/bcs:

my favorite female character: i don't approve many of her choices and i don't think we will ever be friends, but kim. she is entertaining, i love to watch where her weird choices lead her. and in brba marie, of course!!!

my favorite male character: you will be surprised - it's GUS! but also i really really really love mike. my badass sigma dudes 😎

my favorite season: in brba season 1, it's very funny and in some ways cozy. also s4 til the moment walt convinces jesse that gus poisoned brock 😒 in bcs it's s6!

my favorite episode: in brba "salud", second favorite - "peekaboo". in bcs - "point and shoot", plus "fun and games".

my favorite cast member: patrick fabian, rhea seehorn and batsy brandt!! both of the casts are full of charismatic and smart people, but these are just funniest ones, i love how charming and hilarious they are.

my favorite ship: gusmax!!! fits my beloved "partners in crime" trope. ofc mcwexler for the same reason and their sincere attempts for their relationship to work. and also marie and hank! they are obviously not the nice people, but for each other they are very kind, loving, and, most important, accepting.

a character I’d die defending: chuck of course, "he's literally me" (jk, to some extent...). he is not the nice and kind person, but he really is consumed by his mental issues, and the problem is, even the characters base their judgement of chuck on a thought that he's just normal, but awful dude. i believe it killed him, no one truly understood what was going on. but also!!!! in some ways, jesse. as i analyze his path more, i understand he's mostly responsible for his actions and he's done tons of terrible things (but i still think he's not the brightest person and is very influenced, so the people around him contributed to his wrong choices, his parents included). but his sense of justice and inner kindness resonate with me. i like that no matter what happens to him, he still cares for people, loves kids, is willing to help and be open (the last one is at least until his captivation). i appreciate this core kindness in people.

a character I just can’t sympathize with: howard 😐 as he said, he will land on his feet. just feel sorry for his tragic end, but before that... and neo nazis in brba, fuck them!!!

a character I grew to love: i changed a lot of thoughts on brba characters because i was only 19 when i watched for the first time, including skyler and marie. but the most interesting case for me is hank. i'm still watching brba for the third time with my friend, and she made me realise hank is much more complex and interesting than he seems at first! and chuck in bcs, at first i just hated him.

my anti otp: lacho and waltjesse ✋

[everydayyoulovemeless]

Fo3 Companions (+Gob and Sarah) With A Sick!Reader

➼ Word Count » 0.5k ➼ Warnings » None ➼ Genre » Platonic/Romantic, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

Charon has pretty basic medical experience and can keep you alive, but he's not too excited about it. He'd rather just take you to a clinic and have you actually checked out to make sure it's not anything worse, but he's on your schedule and you're claiming it's just a cold. You'll manage, but it might not be comfortable.

Clover is so gentle toward you. She'll run her hands down your back and give you a handful of chems to ease the sickly feeling. She's no medic, so her main focus is just giving you things that'll keep you stable till you can find a doctor or start feeling better.

Star Paladin Cross has experience when it comes to soldiers falling ill on the battlefield and is probably one of the better ones on this list to have to help nurse you back to health. She'll go and grab a few herbs and plants, ground it up real quick, and all of a sudden you're feeling better than how you did when you left the vault.

Jericho just shrugs his shoulders and continues on his way. He's got no clue what you're expecting of him when you tell him you're not feeling well. Go to the clinic in Megaton? Just be sure you're using YOUR money, not his.

Butch panics a bit when you tell him you're sick, I mean, what's he supposed to do? All he's ever done was rough people up and cut people's hair, he doesn't know the first thing about medicine. He'll rush to find you a place to lie down, doing his best to cook something edible with the Mirelurk meat he pocketed on the way, but that's the most you'll be getting out of him.

Fawkes is so quick to find a doctor for you, or if he can't, gather all the medical supplies he has on him. He'll look you over and ask all sorts of questions about how you're feeling. He's no expert but he did read a lot of books while in the vault, so he's somewhat confident in his abilities. You'll be better in no time with Fawkes constantly doting on you.

RL-3 will tell you to toughen up and do 20 push-ups or something. There's no room for illness when you're fighting for your country.

Gob gets so nervous when you walk into the bar all washed out and pale, looking like you were going to pass out at any second. He rushes to get you sat down at one of the tables while he goes to grab you a wet rag to put on your forehead. He'll ask you a bunch of questions about how you got sick, or how long you've been like this before asking Nova to take you down to Doc Church's to get you looked at. (he's scared Moriarty will hit him for abandoning his post at the bar)

Sarah, like Cross, is well-equipped to handle issues like this, pretty much doing the same thing as her just with a little more charm. She'll try to make a few jokes and do her best to not make it feel like a boot camp while you're flushed and burning. She takes your health seriously and won't stop pressing until you start feeling better.

[beanghostprincess]

Sanuso T4T hits so good no matter in which direction. Canon adjacent transmasc Sanji and Transmasc Usopp? They literally laid eyes on each other and just went “Wow, what a dreamboat” they get each others insecurities, they both work on figuring out what being a man means to them instead of relying on someone else. Transmasc Sanji and Transfem Usopp? Sanji is her biggest cheerleader. He lays it on extra thick with her and she loves it, thinking he’s just indulging her and trying to make her feel good (it’s working) but he’s actually so deeply in love with her and he shows it in the only way he knows how to. Meanwhile he’s her Prince Charming, not only the most handsome man she has ever seen but also her best friend and such a good person even tough the world has been so awful to him. If anyone makes him feel like less of a man she’s gonna fucking snipe them immediately. Transmasc Usopp and Transfemme Sanji? Make way for protective boyfriend Usopp who just immediately knows when his girlfriend is doubting herself and has been trough something like this before, so he is more than ready to lend an ear and share his experiences and she’s just so overjoyed because while it’s not the same there are some things where Usopp just GETS it. And other times he doesn’t quite get it but when she starts to spiral downward he just always seems to know what to do and how to make her laugh and just kick her self doubt straight in the ass. Meanwhile he’s just as equally smitten and wants to give her the world. Transfemme Sanji and Transfemme Usopp? I feel like there’s not even much I can add here because there has already been said so much but goddamn the transbian experience of it all. The soft butch four futch or the high femme for butch or hard femme for femme or WHATEVER the energy they have it’s just all lovely and perfect and I wish girls were real! They are so in love. The love each other so much and their crew loves them so much and Zeff shed manly tears when he walked his “idiot eggplant daughter” down the aisle I just know it .

Basically, Sanuso is great in any shape or form because they have so much chemistry it works with every gender and sexuality you headcanon for them. My personal favorite is either Transfem Sanuso (I like women a lot, don't laugh at the lesbian here. I have my reasons) and Transfem Sanji x Transmasc Usopp because those headcanons are my favorite for them and I think that they'd be the cutest fucking thing in the universe of ships. "Protect traditional marriage" when Sanji screams and cries when she sees a bug and Usopp moves it away (never kills it) for her. And "Girlboss x Malewife" whenever Sanji kicks somebody's butt for her boyfriend bc big big monster wanted hand-to-hand combat and Usopp is not built for that type of fight. They fit the whole "I'll do what you can't" thing perfectly in this one, I think. My beloveds.

[the-promise-has-been-made]

I feel like I wanna go see Hadestown like... six more times, just so I can focus on one specific character each time because they all have such unique little quirks to their performances. But specifically:

Hades has this super camp, cocky confidence. Like, when Chant 2 was happening and he and Persephone were circling around the workers and Orpheus, the man was STRUTTING!!! He had more of a hip sway that any other character, he was on a cat walk and we were all just peasants! You coud tell me right now Zachary James has a background in drag and I would believe you wholeheartedly, I am convinced that man can walk in heels better than I can. Right after the lights shorted out after 'I CONDUCT THE ELECTRIC CITY!' man stood there like a class 1 slut with 'tell you wat, young man' like, sir? Sir?!! Like I don't know, the patrick page recordings always had something very dignified to them but this Hades was SEXY and he knew it! But at the same time, he was so insecure about Persephone. Thre were so any instances whre he tried to reach for her, and she moved away, or pushed away, and it was breaking him, visibly. Such fantastic nuance. Like every time he tried to be vulnerable with her, it failed and so he dialled up the cockyness instead and it just got away from him. That's what it felt like. Like 'shit, well, now I committed to this now I gotta see it through!'

And Hermes giving supreme butch energy, flirting with Persephone. Hades was worried about his wife in the arms of the sun? Bro, you should be worried about the God witth feathers on their feet, they're out to steal yo woman. But also, the way Hermes knew how it all would turn out thrughout the whole thing. Like, with the other characters, it doesn't feel like that. But Hermes is the narrator, they break the forth wall, they know the song. It's in the way they gently touch Eurydice's shoulder before the show even starts, as if asking for permission to tell her tragedy again. It's in the way they look at her when she goes to pay for her passage into the underworld, the unspoken 'are you sure? We can still do this another way it doesn't have to be like this' but because they know how the story has to go, they can't actively interefere. Because that's not how Hermes operates. The sour disappointment when they tell Orpheus that Eurydice is gone, and that she cried his name before she went, there is veiled accusation there that Orpheus could have - should have - stopped this but wasn't listening (and maybe even shame that Hermes themselves did not stop it even though they knew what would happen?). The long stretches of silence at the Road to Hell reprise, with Orpheus just sitting there, sobbing, and Hermes just letting it settle in for everyone - no music, no other sounds, just the very quiet '...It's a sad song...' Oooofff.

And of course... Orpheus. I don't know if it's just the different voice and accent, or if it's because I saw this one live, but the Broadway recording always sounds very theatrical to me whereas Dónal Finn's performance was RAW. Absolutely gut-wrenching. He managed to bring across the sweet charme and comedy in Wedding Song, the hesitant insecurity in his own abilities in Epic 1, the determination in Wait For Me 1, where he is still confident that he can do this, that he can bring his love back. And then he gets to the Undeworld and is completely broken. Is It True is actually devastating. The way he first just lies on the floor, forcing the words out in pain, in resignation, before the workers hear and join his song and he gathers new strength and not just strength but also the ANGER that this is supposed to be the world when he KNOWS the world can be better than this. Like, in the recordings, I knew from the lyrics this was a song meants to unite the workers in protest but DAMN in the performance I actually wanted to stand up with him! And then he sings his whole heart out in Epic 3 and for a moment there, he's that boy again when Eurydice says 'you finished it!' and he goes 'I did!' and throws his hands up in glee. And it looks like everything is going to work out. But Doubt Comes In tears all of that away, because the entire time, when he sang there were others there with him. When he sang Epic 3, everyone sang along like it was supposed to be, like Hermes said 'the Gods sang their song of love, and the world sang it with them' but when he sings now, on the dark road, there is no echo, there is no one answering his song, it's just him and the cold wind, and the doubt personified as the fates in the back of his mind, and he is absolutely losing it. You GET why he turnes around. It's not because he doubts Eurydice's love. It's because he doubts that HE is actually worth walking back in the cold for, it's doubt that he would not be tricked by the Gods. He doesn't doubt her love, he doubts himself! And it was devastating. A devastatingly raw performance. I hope he wins awards for this show, I've never seen anything like it.

[bigoltrashpile]

All Mine (Yandere Slim x Reader)

The lovely @tkspersonaldump commissioned me for a yandere Slim x reader! It does get spicy near the end, so I'll put a read more right before that. Thank you for commissioning! :D

Slim sighed.  You were over at the skeletons’ house, once again.  It seemed like you were here more often than your own house.  Which Slim was happy about!  He loved you, of course!  But…it made him jealous.  Really jealous.

Right now, Butch was leaning against you, gently petting your hair.  Slim was pretty sure he could see him whispering something in your ear, but he couldn’t hear it from here.  At the same time, Papyrus had your hand in his, occasionally pressing kisses to the back of it.  The rest of the skeletons were trying hard to be as close to you as they could, all while you watched some tv show.  Everyone except Slim.

Trying to contain his jealousy, Slim looked away.  As if that would stop him from hearing your gorgeous laugh.  Subconsciously, he let out a small growl.  He knew about how the others felt for you, of course he did.  All of them loved you, more than anything else.  But Slim knew.  He knew that you would never love him back.  Not when you had all these other much cooler, sexier, more charming versions of him and his brother.

Trying to stop the dark thoughts, Slim left the room.  He didn’t want to ruin your good evening.  He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice your soft footsteps following him.

Slim shut his door, before flopping face down on his bed with a loud groan.  Sadly, his pity party was interrupted by a gentle knock.

Immediately, Slim sat up.  Nobody else knocked like that.  It was either a loud, constant pounding, or a shave and a haircut pattern.  No in between.  Was it…you?

Cautiously, Slim opened the door.  His eyes went wide.  It was!  You were here!  Right outside his room!  “Can I come in?” you asked.  Your beautiful eyes didn’t meet Slim’s.  What he wouldn’t give to be able to gaze into your eyes for hours and hours and oh fuck he was quiet for way too long.

“yeah, yeah, come on in, uh, do you want a drink?  wait i don’t have any drinks in here, do you want me to go get you a drink?”  Very smooth, Slim.

“No, I just wanted to talk to you, actually.”  You pushed some hair behind your ear.  “Can we sit down?”

“uh huh, have a seat.”  Gingerly, you sat on the edge of his bed.  Slim had to fight to not squeal in excitement.  Fuck, you smelled so good!  And now you were on his bed!  He sat next to you, close, but with a bit of room in case you were uncomfortable.  All his previous bitterness was completely gone, just from the novelty of having your complete attention.

You fidgeted nervously.  “I wanted to…to tell you something.”  You took a deep, shaky breath.  “So…we’ve been friends for a while.”

Slim nodded.  Oh stars, this was sounding an awful lot like a breakup.  Slim fought to keep away his dark thoughts.  What if you were trying to leave him?  He couldn’t let that happen.  His eyes drifted to the closet, where he had a few ropes, bought just in case his jealousy got the better of him and he needed you to stay with him forever.

Oh wait you were still talking.

“I know the others like me,” you said, a slight blush on your face.  “It’s kind of hard to ignore.  And I like them too!”  There was that jealousy again.  “But…”  You took a deep, shaky breath.  “I like you the most.”

“....what?”

“I like you.  A lot.  Like, a lot a lot,” you said with a laugh.  “I might love you?”

Oh stars.  Was Slim dreaming?  He had to be dreaming.  He dug his fingers into his ulna.  Yep, that hurt.  He wasn’t dreaming.

“holy shit,” Slim whispered.

“-I understand if you don’t feel the same, I just wanted to have all cards on the ta-”

“i love you too.”

You blinked.  “You do?”

“fuck, honey, i love ya so much!  more than anything!  i just thought there was no way you’d fall for me when ya have all these choices,” he laughed, almost giddy.

“Really?”  You laughed too.  “Wow!  That’s such a relief!”  You put a hand on your chest, as if calming your heart.

For a moment, the two of you just smiled at each other, like big dorks.  Finally, Slim broke the silence.  “sorry to ask, but…can i kiss ya?”

You jumped, like you weren’t expecting it.  “Y-yeah!”  You shifted so you were facing him more directly.  Carefully, like you were made of glass, Slim put a hand on your cheek.  It was warm.

Slowly, Slim leaned closer.  His eyes were focused firmly on your lips, the lips he had dreamed of kissing every night since he had met you.  With a shaky breath, he closed the distance.

It was even better than he had dreamed.  Your lips were soft, softer than he thought was possible.  He gently moved his teeth against your lips, and you instinctively tilted your head to deepen the kiss.

Suddenly, Slim felt something touch his teeth.  He jumped.  It was your tongue!  You pulled away, seemingly afraid you had messed up.  “I-I’m so sorry, I just thought-”

Before you could say anything, Slim slammed his teeth against your lips again.  This time, he was more than ready.  His tongue invaded your mouth, like you would disappear if he stopped for even a second.  His hand cupped the back of your head, tangled in your hair.

The two of you kissed for a long while, until your hands finally found Slim’s shirt.  Without breaking the kiss, Slim helped your cute little fingers undo the butons, before eagerly stripping you of your top.

Slim pulled back just long enough to take in the sight.  “fuck,” he whispered.  “you’re gorgeous!”

You seemed embarrassed.  “You’re more gorgeous!” you pouted.  Slim just laughed.  The two of you fell onto the bed, Slim landing on top of you.

“do ya wanna go further?” he asked.  Fuck, he wanted to go further.  It was all he wanted, to mark you inside and out, so all the others knew exactly who you belonged to.

“Please,” you whimpered.

Unable to hold himself back, Slim tore your pants into shreds.  You yelped.  “i’ll buy you new ones,” Slim panted.  “i just…i need ya.”

His words, along with the display of strength, seemed to really get to you.  Despite the fact that your thighs were squeezed tight together, Slim could smell your arousal.  Fuck, he hoped your scent stayed in his bed forever.  “O-okay.  But I really liked those pants.”

Slim laughed, before gently pulling your legs apart.  His mouth watered at your scent, and at the sight of your wet folds, on display for him.  And only him.  He looked you in the eyes as he let his long, orange tongue loll out of his mouth.

You swallowed hard.  Almost instinctively, you tried to squeeze your legs together again, but Slim was much too strong to let you.  “no ya don’t,” he growled.  “only squeeze those pretty thighs around my head.”

A soft moan escaped from your mouth, but you let him pull your thighs over his shoulders.  Then, without further ado, he let his tongue get to work.

Slim tried to go slow, to savor this moment he had yearned for, but he couldn’t help himself.  You tasted too damn good!  Plus, you had said you loved him.  He would be able to have you whenever he wanted~

True to his word, your thighs squeezed his skull beautifully when he hit an especially good spot inside of you.  You tried to muffle your moan, but Slim nipped the inside of your thigh in warning.

“don’t ya dare hide your sounds,” he growled.  “i’ve waited too damn long to hear ya.”

You let your hands fall to your side, and when Slim found that spot again, your moan was beautifully unfiltered.  Slim was sure that this was what heaven was.  His thumb found your clit, and you practically screamed as your orgasm washed through you.

---------------

Downstairs, the rest of the skeletons paused in their bickering.  They had been fighting over who deserved to cuddle you next, when they heard a gorgeous sound.  Your moaning.

“what the hell?” Hound muttered.  “is she jerkin’ off?”

Sans scanned the room.  “nah, slim’s gone too.”

A bitter silence filled the room, only interrupted by your beautiful noises, coming faintly from Slim’s room.

Lucky tried to fight back the proud expression from his face as a pleasured scream echoed through the halls.  “I Guess That Solves Our Little Argument,” he smiled.