#pocket sized lesbian

[freshhotflavors]

A small selection of some of the stuff that will be on sale this Black Friday weekend! It will be going on until the night of Monday Nov 28th, CST!

All our discounted items for the sale are here! In addition, you get 10% off if you order $100+ worth of stuff :) Thanks for your support!! 💛

[creepyscritches]

Last weekend I went out w my mom to a Greek food festival and a used bookstore and girlies idk what was in the water but I was getting A Lot of 'gay chicken' compliments on my appearance from all the beautiful women at the food fest and bookstore.

I tell my mom all the time that queer stuff ain't like a constant all day thing (in the sense that lesbians are not always psionically linking throughout the day) yet I go somewhere w combats, fatigues, and some cheap black sleeveless mockneck and 7 of the most beautiful women in the world complimented my sweaty ass while I ate olives in the sun and my mom is convinced this is what life is like if you're not straight

[nychthemeron-rants]

Dunmeshi really said "the sapphics can have a little fan service. As a treat"

[pocket-sized-eclipse]

Hey, I-want-to-kill-Eclipse anon, can you shut up for about five seconds? Thanks.

-Lawyer Anon

Oop

[altruistic-meme]

every day i get closer to wanting to do Too Much

[nagdabbit]

when will leyla hirsch return i miss her so much

[bambiesfics]

⊹ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐭 ⊹

warning: water-sports, extreme overstimulation, graphic depictions of lesbian smut, r!receiving finger bang, sarcastic Ellie, fluff + loving at the end.

vague description: reader has a full bladder and is trapped in Ellie William’s hatchback.

author’s note: re-upload of my fic from last blog, also don’t read this in public. It gets intense.

“Pinup paradise diner…home to… ‘The World’s Bustiest Milkshake Jars?’”

You read, with your face nosed deep into the crease of the monotoned map. You deflated back into your seat, irritated at the amount of eye-strain required to make out such small font. And let the roadmap blanket the top of your thighs.

“Is that where we’re going next?”

Ellie's eyes were intently focused on the red Honda Civic in front of her, the one she’d almost rolled her windows down to spit at, less than a minute ago. Her stacked bracelets clinked as she cracked the knuckles of each one of her boney fingers.

“Is that what it says on the map?”

You flipped back to the legend, squinting at the list of diners, drive-ins, and street trucks. The corner of her plump smile quirked, hearing you mutter,

“Jesus, how do you read this thing?”

Your squint jumped between Ellie and the page, “uhhhh…yes?—yes!”

“Then that’s where we’re going next.” She crudely cracked her pinky last. The last finger with chips of black nail polish speckled on it and a snug silver braided ring that hugged it. She settled into her seat, merging onto the left lane.

“Pinup Paradise? Really? Seems like an odd choice for a drink after going to Whopping Wrap.”

You flipped the map neatly back onto your lap as your girlfriend flicked the blinker up.

“Milkshakes after chicken wraps Ellie? Really?”

“Hey—Tommy said they have the best milkshakes this side of the state. That type of man, the fucking lumberjack he is, does not fuck around when it comes to satiating that gnarly sweet tooth.”

She muttered “He probably has cavities bigger and darker than the cracks in the Grand Canyon.”

And your tiny giggle teased a smile out of Ellie, as she half-heartedly blocked the swats you struck at her with the rolled up map.

Your girlfriend got such a fucked up kick out of busting Tommy’s balls, and he knew it too.

She flicked the signal light up higher once more and cruised right into the strip mall lane that led the car through to the drive-thru, the diner growing closer each second.

In a smooth slow crawl you and your girlfriend rolled towards ‘Pinup Paradise Diner.’

A canary yellow, vintage diner, littered with paintings of 50’s pinup models that decorated all of the glass windows.

A drive-thru swinging sign read ‘The World’s Bustiest Milkshake!’ above the order window.

You were incredibly humored, noting all the double entendres and puns that weaved through the slogans graffitied across the menu board and windows.

A young crew member poked her head out of the order window, smiling tightly before asking for both of your orders. She watched on while Ellie fished for her peeling leather wallet in the back pocket, and poked her head out of the side of the hatchback window.

“Hey, can I grab a blueberry crust milkshake? And she’ll have….” Ellie trailed off, shooting you back a look with her eyebrow raised.

“…What’ll you have?”

“I’ll have a vanilla bean milkshake please. Also could I get a bottled water, if you have that?”

“Okay, so right now we only have the 1 liter sized bottled water.. would that be alright?”

“Ah, I’m sure that’s no problem, I’ll take it. Thank youuu.” you sang, and the girl mirrored your gentle smiled. You settled back into your seat and she closed the window.

“Why’d you get water?”

Ellie observed, hastily touching up her upper and bottom lashes with mascara, in the dash mirror, before she had to put her foot on the gas.

Vain. You teased in your head.

….But so pretty.

The mascara made her already long lashes, even longer. Her dark brown eyeliner was smudged, yet the grittiness was still so attractive on her. “You should wear brown eyeliner more Els. It really brings out the green in your eyes.”

She side-eyed you suspiciously.

“Thanks?…”

And you rolled your eyes. Your girlfriend loved to pretend she was allergic to compliments unless they were talking about her earth-shattering service top abilities.

Ellie grabbed both your milkshakes. And used her teeth to rip the paper cover off her straw while passing you your drink.

She put her foot on the gas and peeled out.

“You still didn’t answer the question.”

“What question?”

“The question of what possessed you to buy an entire liter of water?”

“Because like, you know the sweet aftertaste left in your mouth after you eat something really sweet? I don’t know, but it makes my mouth feel dry.”

“Ah.” she responded.

“…that’s actually real as fuck.”

“Right?” You settled deeper into your seat. Hugging the milkshake to your chest while you stalked a few instagram stories, relaxing into the rhythmic roll of your girlfriend's beat up hatchback.

Townhouses and parked SUV’s started running on either side of the car as Ellie drove on, deeper into suburbia. You pushed yourself up to gaze out the window.

“Where are we going?”

Ellie turned right into a smaller street.

“To find a place to park. I’m tired of driving.”

“Hmm, sorry baby” you hummed as you rubbed her thigh. Your eyes lit up. “Then can I drive your ca—”

“—no. When will you stop asking?”

“When you finally let me drive it? Let me behind the wheel please.”

She scoffed, eyeing you up and down. “So I can end up with my knees touching the back of my skull? Yeah no.”

“You’re not funny Ellie.”

“And you’re the only passenger princess I’ve seen whining to do her girlfriend's job. Be a lady, damn.”

You broke down laughing, clutching your chest while Ellie bit her lip down to put a lid on her own laughter.

You shimmied close to her, your breasts squishing her upper arm.

“Then can I have some of your blueberry shake?”

She circled the straw around your mouth and made you chase it.

“uh ah-uh-hah—Ellie.” You whined.

Ellie barked a laugh at how adorable you looked, and then slotted the straw onto your puckered mouth.

“Mmm…”

“You like?”

“Yeah it’s so yummy. I should’ve gotten that instead.”

Ellie attempted to take her milkshake back, but with some struggle as you leaned further and further into her seat, pressing your front body into her arms just to keep tasting it. You were practically finished your own drink, and were now drinking half of hers. And in that moment you recalled at all the previous times your girlfriend had gripped your ass and whispered how you were a greedy little princess in your ear. Ellie was an asshole through and through.

But she spoiled you, and she loved doing it.

You eased back, and Ellie stole her milkshake back. She circled her tongue around the tip of the straw before sucking it. Wrapping her pink lips around the sticky tip your rosy lip gloss had covered seconds prior.

You dropped your empty cup in the cup holder and went to chug most of your water. It provided an indescribable amount of relief from the saccharine blanket on your tastebuds. A cool feeling that settled in you, as Ellie pulled into a grassy park parking lot.

Willow trees lined up along the curb, their weeping pose provided shade to several lots, including the one above you.

Ellie killed off the engine. She tipped her head against the headrest in relief. She flexed her fingers, stretching out the kinks, feeling the breeze run past.

Her head lolled limply to face you. “Do I really look that good in brown eyeliner?”

“Yes you really do.”

Ellie’s cheek dimpled.

“I love when you tell me stuff like that.”

“Like what? That you look pretty?”

You murmured into her shoulder, looking up at her.

“Yeah, makes me feel…dunno, not like a greasy loser.”

“Please, as if I would ever let a greasy loser bag me.”

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Jesus, kill yourself.”

She maintained eye contact with you, green eyes jumping between your own. Reflecting the amber beauty of the sun in its sparkle. She gave you a soft smile, you gave Ellie one back. A truce to the constant teasing. And Ellie took it as an invitation to dip her head down, and pull your lips into a kiss. One she’d been yearning to do since she’d first reversed both of you out of your driveway.

Ellie chased the kiss into the back seat. She gripped the fat of your hips to inch you slowly off of the center console and towards the back. She followed, kicking her loose driver’s seat forward with the sole of her sneakers. The slide adjusting rail had seen better days, and had been owned by better people than the currently horny, blunt, ungraceful young lesbian who had an avid penchant for violence, that owned it that day.

Ellie teased her hand up from your hips to the base of your neck, to grab the back of your head as she worked her puffy lips against yours. She was hungry for your little mouth, and it was seen in the way her jaw flexed.

Ellie kissed you with a remarkably intense eroticism.

Her hands ran down over the fabric of your milkmaid top before ripping the holes away from the buttons to let your tits spill out right into her hands. Each nipple immediately kissed the waiting pads of her thumbs, as they moved to greedily massage the sensitive head. Grazing each of your puffy tender domes over and over. “Fuck, need to suck these heavy tits baby.”

Ellie’s lips made their way down your chest. She suckled some swollen red marks into the skin, before making her way lower. Coming eye to eye with your nipples.

“Can you please squeeze your boobies together?”

You took your palms and pushed them together. Ellie's whiny sigh sent heat pooling in your tummy. She leaned in, licking a greedy stripe across both nipples, tickling their head with the tip of her tongue, tonguing the flesh around both areolas. And suckling your nipples intermittently then popping off them. Leaving both of them so puffed out.

Your squeaks filled the expanse of her small car, and her aroused groans joined to match.

She shoved her fingers in the waistband of your tiny denim shorts and tugged at them. They budged, but barely, so you helped your girlfriend. You lifted your ass off the seat and slid your shorts and thong down your thighs, before Ellie slid them the rest of the way off your ankles and threw them in the front seat.

The soft breeze blew past your cunt. Exposing the warm skin to a cooler environment.

“S-should we be doing this in a park?” you squeeked.

Ellie kissed her answer on your lips “there’s” *smooch* “no one” *smooch* “here.” As she shoved her hand down to palm the fat of your vagina. Feeling your pussy fill up her fingers. Ellie curled a middle finger into your tight hole, it barely wanted to split apart to accommodate her finger. But she marveled at how hungrily it sucked her in. She pumped shallowly before adding in her ring finger.

Her chrome ring grazed the swelling mound inside your hole; your g-spot. And it pulled a pathetic mewl out of you. She curled her wrist up, ligament appearing. And pumped harder. Enjoying your shaking thighs in the air.

Your brain was melting into mush. And all you managed were barely coherent babbles.

“…feels ss-s'good” your eyes were rolled backwards.

“God bunny…” Ellie marveled, “your pretty pussy’s so greedy.”

Ellie’s teeth dug into her lip “How did I bag you?”

All you could muster were delirious squeak noises in response as you tugged on the base of her ponytail.

“Look-look down” Ellie’s fingers grasped your chin, pulling your eyes away from her flushed aroused face and towards your own shiny pussy. “L-look at how you’re swallowing my fingers.”

Ellie’s forehead knocked against yours.

“Hey…c-can you squeeze for me?”

You never disobeyed her instructions, not when you both were like this. Nodding limply, you clamped around Ellie’s fingers, a choked moan escaped you. And a deep, throaty groan escaped her. Feeling how tightly you suckled in her fingers, how badly you wanted her there, made a warm heat throb between Ellie’s legs and left her boxers sticking to her sloppy cunt. Ellie could almost cry that she couldn’t bully a cock inside you, just to feel that desperate clamp around her cock.

Her ring pushed into your plump inner walls over and over, and dragged a new delicious zing of pleasure through the ribbed inner walls. Puffy, swollen, and sloppy with slick.

Ellie had a newfound resistance in her thrusting, the clamping, warm grip of your puffed out walls were holding her fingers still. But she kept pumping, like a suction cup being stuck on and popped off.

You were assaulted with thrilling pleasure from your walls clamping, chasing the press of her jewelry. And from your girlfriends frenzied, desperate thrusting. Ellie was just as hazy brained as you.

It was a costly mistake. All of the fluttering was stimulating your pelvic muscles. Which stimulated the other tiny hole snuggled in your pussy. The familiar pressure of a full bladder pressed behind the teeny hole of your urethra. Your squeaks came out strained. You scooted into different positions on the seat, trying to ebb away the pressure.

The shifting positions only made it worse as your tummy squished from movement, and as Ellie pumped upwards.

She jack hammered her fingertips against the puffy roof of your warm cunt. Her feverish ministrations put so much pressure on your bladder. You choked out a breathy plea.

Your hands skated up your girlfriend's torso, past her exposed waist and pebbled nipples that strained against her t-shirt, and finally towards her square shoulders in an attempt to push her back.

She needed off.

“I gotta…uhn… I gotta.” you whimpered.

“What was that?” Ellie sighed.

“I-ah!” The thrust felt so good.

You were whiny “th-think I needa pee.”

“I’m fucking you so good it’s got you confusing cumming for peeing? Y’so adorable it’s insane.” Ellie kissed your lips, picking up her pace.

She took the hand she’d used to squeeze and pinch your tits and brought it down to press on your lower tummy, as she thrust up.

Oh.

“Nnnnhnhn no! ph-please ewwie.. can’t—hold it.” You babbled the same desperate plea incoherently, but with a mouth nearly paralyzed from the incessant abuse of your hole Ellie was doing, you were left whiny and gulping, babbling tiny sentences at a time.

Sweat pricked at your skin, an orgasm was fucked into your vagina, and a full bladder pressed at your urethra. You didn’t know what to do as the mounting climax forced against your urethra left you with a desperate need for release, in the car.

Ellie’s lips kissed your jaw, snuggling against your head.

“You wanna let it out, big girl? Make a big mess f’me. We can clean it all up later, I promise.”

“nuh—ah Ellie no no…aghh! ”

Your urethra let out a thin light spurtle. Settling into the space between you two as more slick gushed out of your hole. You sobbed through your orgasm, from the joint pleasure of climax combined with relief from pressure pressing against your urethra. Ellie kept fingering you through each tiny pump of liquid that squirted from your urethra and through each contraction of its sloppy wet vagina, as slick spilled out of you and ran past your bare ass, onto her leather seats. With each aggressive thrust of Ellie’s fingers—fuck in—pull out—came out spurt after spurt, from each hole. She slowed down once you fell back into the seat softly; boneless and glass-eyed. Like an abused rag doll.

You both caught your breaths, Ellie from the aggressive thump and heat in her pussy. And you from your ‘accident’.

Ellie watched as the looming embarrassment creeped every so slowly onto your face, as the orgasm slowly ebbed away. She placed shaky kisses on top of your head. Cupping the back of it in support.

Sure, maybe her car wasn’t the best time to explore that kink. Seeing as the bottom half of her shirt and her belt was wet.

But she wasn’t going to let her girlfriend curl in on herself in shame, just because of her body’s natural reaction. Especially one that Ellie practically fucked out of you.

If not for the small space of the car she might’ve pulled you into her lap, to kiss away the upset creases between your brows. But she could do nothing more than hover above your trembling body, and caress your squished tummy with her free hand, until the shaking eased.

She was breathless. “You did so good, baby.”

You shoved your face into the crook of Ellie’s neck. The sweet cologne on the collar of her shirt calmed you down, with its medley of gourmands, lavender and florals.

Your girlfriend had a way of grounding you. Everything about Ellie had the ability to. From her cold, icy fingers, to her soft, pine scented hair. To her woodsy cologne, always left on the collar of her shirts, ready to tranquilize your unrest.

“nuh-uh I—.”

“—So good. My good girl, doing exactly what I tell you too, c’mere.”

Ellie unplugged her fingers out from your hole and suckled the last bit of slick cream off, then swiped it on her shirt. She licked her lips. Using her now clean hand to cup the side of your jaw and draw you into a heated kiss that left both of you trembling.

You shifted positions in the seat from discomfort.

“You still need to pee s’more?”

“No.”

“Babe…”

“Maybe.”

Ellie reached over and opened your door, then hopped out from her side. Jogging over to shield your body.

You crouched in behind her, her and the car towered over you from both sides.

You pouted up at her, and she glowered down at you. Her arms crossed firmly as she looked away briefly to scan around the area. Before parking her gaze back down at you as the remaining stream from your bladder emptied itself.

“No more vanilla bean milkshakes.” you winced at the feeling of the breeze tickling your swollen labia.

“Of course. Yeah, that was the real culprit. Not the mega-giant 1 liter water bottle.”

You frowned.

Ellie’s arms dropped from their cross, and her black fingernails pinched the fat of your cheek and pulled teasingly.

She reassured you.

“Yeah sure, we’ll blame it on the vanilla bean milkshake.”

[whotfislai]

ㅋᩚ ㅋᩚ Too sweet skater girl | le ssera, yunjin!

pairing huh yunjin & fem reader. lesbians 🔛🔝

genre fluff (in my personal opinion 🤓☝)

doei speaks! hot skater girl yunjin what more do i need to say? ++ dividers came from xxbimbobunnyxx <3

it was around 11:20 p.m. and you were currently at your local skate park practicing some moves you'd seen done on tiktok.

the atmosphere was something special around this time. the moon had illuminated you and the rest of the park, with the help of some nearby streetlights, and no one else was in sight.

your headphones were blasting in your ears, and all you could hear was your favorite song.

too sweet by hozier. (even if its not we're PRETENDING it is 🤓)

everything felt more comfortable in times like these. nobody was around to bother you, and it felt as though your responsibilities and pressures had drifted away from you, even if the feeling lasted simply for an hour.

you'd take that over nothing.

you were too focused on nailing this one trick that you just couldn't seem to get, sitting on the ledge of the vert-ramp, when you felt someone tap your shoulder.

"OH MY GOD WHAT THE FU—" you exclaimed as the person clearly startled you. you jumped and shifted to the left to see who tapped your shoulder when your jaw practically dropped.

the HOTTEST, and i mean HOTTEST, girl you've ever seen was crouched right next to you.

her hair was like a washed out orange color, it kinda reminded you of fall and how you'd sometimes spot brown-ish leaves on the ground. she had on a black cap and an over-sized white shirt and some baggy jeans (no nct😔✊🏾).

what interested you the most was the skateboard she had resting beside her. pantone 7453c, also known as fearless blue, and had the phrase "IM FEARLESS" plastered on it in graffiti style.

the girl tilted her head and had a rather confused look on her face. "i was watching you from over there," she pointed to the other side of the street, "and i couldn't help but notice something. were you attempting the madonna a few minutes ago?"

you opened your mouth to respond and-

"goddamn, you're so fine."

...

"you know you said that out-loud, right?" ... "i did?"

... "SHIT I DID!"

the girl only laughed at your response. now if you were her in this situation, you would've left right around now.

you didn't want to even imagine how cringe you probably sounded to her, but when you focused on her expression, she looked almost flattered by it.

"you're not too bad yourself. y'know, you're lucky i'm into girls. maybe you've got a shot." she winked at you, and your hands flew to your face in an attempt to hide the flustered reaction her words caused you, which was followed by her bursting out in laughter only harder this time.

the atmosphere in the skate-park had now changed in only a few minutes of talking to her, and to be 100% honest, you weren't exactly mad at it.

instead of being annoyed by the sounds of her loud-ass laughter, you were infatuated by it. she had this charm factor about her.

"s-shut up talking like that! i don't even know your name, do you flirt with every girl you see?" you exclaimed. she could tell you were trying your best to cover up how embarrassed you were so she went with it.

"nah, i just flirt with the cute ones," she grinned, "the name's yunjin."

yunjin..yunjin. you swore you've heard that name before.

smiling back at her, you extended your arm and dapped her up. "i'm (yn). y'know, is it just me or does your name sounds familiar?"

.

.

"i mean no shit it's familiar, it's literally my name."

"SHUT THE HELL UP YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!"

you rolled your eyes at the girl. she winked again before pulling out her phone. as you stared the case you could see it read, "HUH YUNJIN."

huh yunjin. huh. that name really sounds SO familiar.

the feeling of, "do i know her," overtook your mind and you began spacing out. so much so that you didn't even realize she had put her phone back in her pocket and was now standing beside you.

yunjin called your name but got no response.

she called your name again.

yunjin then proceeded to kick you in the leg which seemed to do the trick.

"ow, what the hell!" you hissed, clutching your leg in pain. she only shrugged. "stop thinking so hard then and ride me. I MEAN—ride WITH me."

"nuh-uh, don't try to clean it up now! you basically just asked me to have se-"

"SHUT UP AND GRAB YOUR SKATEBOARD (YN) I'M GONNA TEACH YOU THIS TRICK!"

and so that was the night you learned how to do the madonna.

you were headed to the skate park to meet your favorite girl, yunjin. after your first meeting, the two of you exchanged numbers and met up often.

it had become somewhat of a routine of yours. you'd wake up, do whatever boring shit you needed to do for the day, go home, and wait until around 11 before leaving to hang out with her.

something about yunjin was a breath of fresh air to you. i mean, you two had gotten so close that you began sharing some of your thoughts with her, even the non-skateboarding related ones.

no matter how late it was, she was there to listen, and something about that in itself made you feel...

loved?

maybe cared for was a better way to put it but whatever the feeling was, you wanted to feel that way forever.

and you hoped you made her feel the same way.

as you made it to the park your eyes instinctively scanned over the area for her but... she wasn't anywhere to be seen.

usually when she was running late she'd text you as a heads-up so this concerned you. i mean what if something happened to her? it is pretty late, what if she had been kidnapped or something?

but then again, knowing her, she'd probably piss off her kidnapper.

.... WHICH COULD RESULT IN HER MURDER??

you whipped your phone out of your pocket and called yunjin, hoping she'd pick up and just say she didn't feel like coming, as long as she was safe it didn't matter.

"hey (yn), you-"

"yunjin are you okay?"

there was a pause.

"oh i'm fine. i totally forgot to text you didn't i? i'm just grabbing something but i'm on my way now."

you smiled. not just because she was still coming but just knowing everything she okay made you feel at ease. but this feeling of gratitude didn't last long before she added, "it's cute that you worried about me."

even through the phone you could hear her smirking. of course you had to fall for such a cocky, beautiful, talented, kind human being. yunjin had every quality that you wanted in a partner but you weren't 100% sure she reciprocated your feelings.

i mean sure, she flirted with you, but then again one time you two went to target and she almost got the cashiers phone number sooo..

"whatever loser, i just didn't need my friend getting kidnapped. it'd totally kill my vibe." you lied. she let out a hum before saying she was close, so you two hung up.

it was only four minutes later when she showed up, target bags in one hand, skateboard in the other. she joined you on the bench, setting one of the bags next to her feet and the other on her lap.

"you didn't go back to see that cashier, did you?" you questioned, half joking but half serious. yunjin laughed. "(yn) jealous era?"

you only shrugged and let out a quiet maybe. she shook her head, "don't worry, i'd never dream of it when i've got you."

AHEM??

her statement shocked you to say the least. internally, you were freaking out. yunjin could tell.

before you could reply back, she stopped you. she opened the bag, and pulled out two spray paint cans.

"what're you planning to do with those?" you pointed to the cans. "yunjin's in her artist era now?"

she giggled at your teasing. every interaction you two had was just fun, this type of relationship felt so carefree...if that made sense? the both of you just kinda let go with one another.

she pointed towards your skateboard, "i thought we should make yours look actually cool? plain is totally boring."

"well you say that like yours is better? like what? are we gonna match or something?" you joked.

yunjin scratched the back of her head, slightly moving the position of her cap in the process. "well...i kinda wanted to.."

the look on her face after saying this was different than anything you've seen from her. it was more nervous, unsure of herself, non-confident.

she felt tense as your eyes scanned over her face. it was as if you were studying her expressions, could you really tell a change just from that?

yunjin cleared her throat in an attempt to take off some pressure, "unless you don't want to. that's cool."

she avoided eye contact until you put your hand on-top of hers.

"it's cool."

you two sat there quietly, digesting the conversation, before moving. the silence was nice. you two rarely had moments like that before but you noticed they were happening more often.

you two could be just talking and suddenly it'd get quiet. you'd look at yunjin, she'd look at you, and it was like your eyes spoke.

if looks could talk, you two would've been together by now.

"this looks like shit."

"(yn)!! don't say that, we haven't even finished!"

but it was true, your skateboard looked so bad. if anyone else had done this to it, you would've freaked out. but it was yunjin.

she insisted on continuing although it was basically ass, so you two continued. after about twenty minutes she finished (you tapped out around the ten minute mark and opted to lie in the grass instead).

"all it has to do is dry now." she stated, walking to lie next to you.

the sky looked so pretty at that moment. the stars covered everywhere your eyes could see, and the moon, the moon shone as brightly as ever.

but something else was prettier in your opinion. you turned your head and met the eyes of yunjin, who was staring at you with the softest expression. to her, you were perfect like this.

"yunjin, you're staring."

she sighed, letting out the softest, "i know."

you two were doing the thing again. staring that led to nothing else, unfortunately. yunjin might've realized that too, because she turned her head back to the night sky.

it fell silent. a comfortable silence.

but this isn't what you wanted. something came over you, and it was urging you to just confess. you really like yunjin. that's a fact.

if you had a wikipedia page, there'd be a section all about your love for yunjin.

okay that might be an overstatement but you get the point.

you inhaled quietly before turning back to face her, it's now or never. well not literally but this is the perfect time.

she felt your eyes shift and turned to look at you.

"yunjin," you grabbed on the bottom of your shirt out of anxiousness, "i don't know...i don't know if you know this already but, i like you. and i'm not saying this lightly, i'm certain of it. everything about you is perfect to me and i've never felt this way about anyone else. you're so-"

you were cut off by her lips gently pressing against yours.

the kiss was short but sweet. you wouldn't have traded it for the world. and after she pulled away, it left you wanting more.

"i know that was sudden but uh, you just looked so fucking good. and i thought since you like me, and i like you too, it'd be cool."

you nodded your head slowly. "don't worry, it was cool. i really liked it."

she nodded too. "y'know, you're the prettiest girl i've ever seen. i'm overall glad i met you."

with that being said, you and yunjin laid together in the grass, under the moonlight, knowing by tomorrow you'd be more than friends.

and that was a nice thought.

"hey yunjin, can i ask you something?" you whispered. by this point, she was laying on top of your chest, fighting off sleep.

"mhmm..." she muttered.

"what was in the other bag?"

yunjin rubbed her eyes and yawned. "oh. y'know how you were going on and on about my name being familiar?"

you hummed and she continued saying, "turns out there's an idol with a similar name to me, huh yeo-jin, whoever the hell that is i dunno. so i bought some photo-cards of her."

oh. you laughed.

who the hell is that?

End!ㅤ

thanks for reading! i'm not sure if i did skater girl yunjin justice in this, i might write more abt her like this cause she's hot.

reblog / like it if you enjoyed <3!

[cassandragemini]

love lies bleeding inspired me to draw more huge lesbians so heres misha and her pocket sized butch

[wanderingcritter]

Being a lesbian and nonhuman at the same time feels.. strange.

Because, like, human girls are these absolutely stunning, almost unreal beings. They're beautiful beyond words, the kind of beauty that can only ever be conveyed through the careful plucking of guitar strings, or through a vibrant splash of paint against barren canvases. They hold the stars in their eyes and flecks of gold in their hair, as if the forces of the cosmos themselves hand crafted their forms. They're soft and gentle and warm, but also strong and fierce and an unbelievable force to be reckoned with. Once when I was young, I got caught outside during a tropical hurricane and was almost lifted into the air by the winds; that is the closest thing I can compare to the feeling of falling for a girl. They are everything that a human being should be and more.

And then, there I am. A beast. This.. thing that stalks the woods in the darkest hours of the night, with dirt coated matted fur and piercing amber gaze, unseen and uncomprehended by man. Constant yearning, hunger. For flesh, for bloodlust, for isolation and freedom, to be feared, to be whispered about in hushed tales around a withering campfire. The creature in the forest, didn't you hear? If it catches you alone on a full moon it will peel your skin away from your body with fangs the size of your hand. Stay close. Your measly pocket knife won't do much in its wake I fear. A wild, snarling thing that flinches beneath humanity's touch and rejects their "civility" in favor of the murmuring creek that sings old and long forgotten hymns to the ancient mountains above.

I know when they look at me they see one of them, a human with soft skin and kind eyes, a human who smiles at them and perhaps offers a passing compliment, a human who always tries to coax the timid street cat and watchfully steps around sidewalk slugs. A human. But that is not what I am, at least not in the way that they are. And when I look back at them, with my green eyes that I wished glowed amber, I can't help but wonder "How could someone so divinely human find companionship with something so desperately unhuman as me? How long until you realize the humanoid body you see before you is merely a flawed disguise? Will you still grasp my hand with fond affection when it warps into a mangled paw?"

[rottenpumpkin13]

Out Of Context Shit Heard On The SOLDIER Floor #6

Previous: #1, #2, #3, #4, #5

Angeal: No, Genesis, you spaghetti-noodle-spine-having-ass bitch.

Sephiroth: I identify as a tonberry *chases Cloud with a kitchen knife*

Zack: Ra Ra Rasputin *kicks Sephiroth over*

Genesis: Unhand me you cretin *alone, talking to no one*

Angeal: Zack just showed me a picture of the Grinch and said "hear me out"

Lazard: No, Sephiroth, you cannot have a human-sized cat bed in your office "for enrichment"

Cloud: Parkour time *crashes through the air vents*

Sephiroth: I'm the biggest lesbian ally in this department, actually.

Angeal: For the sake of my sanity I'm gonna pretend I didn't just see Zack twerking to One Winged Angel.

Luxiere: I would commit unspeakable atrocities for a crumb of Zack's attention.

Lazard: That stripper pole better be gone when I get back or so help me, Genesis, I will return you to the goddess.

Sephiroth: *does a single pump of sore throat spray* This is enough for sustenance for the day.

Kunsel: Care for a deep-fried cigarette?

Angeal: You look like an AI-generated twink.

Sephiroth: I've grown so tired of Genesis's voice that we now communicate solely through interpretive dance.

Lazard, over the speakers: Whoever heated fish in the break room microwave, please come by my office so I can break your knees.

Zack: Aww, I forgot to feed the Roomba :(

Genesis: I don't know why me and Angeal are being judged. Simulating a birth with a watermelon is a perfectly normal activity for two people.

Kunsel: Hopefully this office party won't end in accidental weed use.

Angeal: WHY IS THERE A FAMILY OF RACCOONS IN THE TRAINING ROOM?

Genesis: I noticed some homosexual subtext in your screams, do you want to talk about that?

Angeal: *sniff sniff* Ooh~ who's barbecuing? OH MY GOD IT'S AN ELECTRIC FIRE.

Roche: Every time I think about chopping my hair short I think "Sephiroth wouldn't want this for me" and the feeling is gone.

Genesis: I made a friend *drags in a skeleton with a Sephiroth wig*

Cloud: *points at Angeal, Genesis and Sephiroth* Pure of heart, dumb of ass, big of tit.

Lazard: I told Zack to use Excel and he started sobbing.

Angeal: WHAT DO YOU HAVE AGAINST SEASONING YOUR GROUND BEEF?

Sephiroth: It's extremely rude to ask someone why they're eating a salad bowl of udon at 8 AM. Mind your business, Zack.

Cloud: Genesis likes Loveless so much because the title resonates with his love life.

Zack: You keep your anxiety pills in a takeaway to-go box? Dude that's so fancy.

Lazard: Why is Sephiroth the only one wearing a shirt??

Angeal: Common sense has chased Zack all his life but he wears wheelies so he's faster

Sephiroth: I personally don't use the peace sign because I haven't had a day of peace since I was 12.

Kunsel: I'm never going out in public with Zack again. A child's balloon popped when it went near his hair.

Angeal: No I'm not giving you an aspirin. Last time I gave you one you crushed it and snorted it like cocaine.

Lazard: An overwhelming majority of you peaked in kindergarten.

Sephiroth: Zack, I'm becoming increasingly concerned by the amount of potatoes in your pants right now.

Zack: This year I want an A/B/O themed birthday party.

Sephiroth: Please don't commit tax fraud, Genesis. You won't thrive in prison.

Genesis: Does anyone have an extra ramen packet to give Sephiroth? The 64 he consumed this morning weren't enough.

Roche: Commander Rhapsodos and his emo fringe is our culture.

Zack: I'm at my fucking limit! I'm about to eat a vegetable!

Genesis: He's a son of a bitch Sephiroth: That implies he has a mother, so I don't see how that's an insult.

Zack: Fuck around and find out *said with a chunk of Genesis' red coat hanging from his pocket*

Cloud: Does anyone have an extra brain cell? I lost my remaining one when Genesis spoke to me this morning.

Sephiroth: Damn.

Kunsel: Zack owes me so much money that if he sold his box of random shit he stole from Angeal, he still couldn't pay me back.

Angeal: Why are you guys playing Queen's Blood in the closet? is this a metaphor?

Genesis: Have you prayed to your Sephiroth cardboard cutout yet today?

Sephiroth: Alert me once Rufus Shinra arrives so that I may greet him adequately *said while building a pipe bomb*

Lazard: It's all fun and games until the timeout cage that I ordered online arrives.

Genesis: I will atone for my sins by becoming a nuisance to the environment.

Cloud: If Zack were a scented candle he'd smell like ADHD and crayons.

Sephiroth, standing on a table: DO NOT. EAT. THE CHEESECAKE. IN THE FRIDGE. It's mine.

Angeal: *with a bucket while it's raining hale* Free ice baby.

Zack: I finally have enough gil to buy a sixteen bouncy castles.

Genesis: Being overcome with the desire to eat pasta and call your mother at 2 AM and wondering if you're having a mental breakdown or are possessed by Sephiroth.

Lazard: I can't fire any of you, but I'm about to start setting things on fire.

[fuctacles]

Ao3 | divider by @penny00dreadful

Steve was taking a break from calling clients and munching on his sandwich when his frazzled co-worker stormed in. He never liked the guy, and could never trust someone driven by money like that, but the stormy look on his face gave him a pause. Bill was always composed and giving off the air of a rich boy looking down on anyone else. Whatever put him in such a state must have been big. 

When Bill disappears behind the doors of their manager, Steve curiously leans towards Angela. 

"What's gotten into his pants?" he murmurs, hoping for a piece of gossip.

Angela scoffs.

"Idiot thought he could sell the Creel House."

Angela wasn't a pleasant person. But she was also blunt and always ready to talk shit. And she had the cutest cats, even if she was a bit obsessed with them. She was Steve's go-to for office gossip. And sometimes extra information he missed as one of the newer employees. Office lore, as Dustin would call it.

"What's the Creel House?" he asks genuinely. She eyes him like he's stupid, but he's dealt with those stares long before her, so he holds it down until she folds.

"It's this old house we haven't been able to sell for years, probably around a decade. There's all kinds of stupid rumors around it, like curses and hauntings," she tells him with an eye roll. He snorts to let her know he shares her opinion, as scoffs, snorts, and eye rolls were the language she understood the best. "Bill thought he could go for it after his selling streak last month. Guess the streak just broke." She smiled in that evil way only introverted old ladies could. A chill went down Steve's spine, but he snickered alongside her. 

"What a loser," he commented and focused back on his sandwich, but his imagination was running wild about how the house might look. As soon as he was done with his paperwork for the day, he went looking for the file on Creel's House. 

His manager eyed him weirdly, but he assured him it was mostly curiosity speaking through him.

The file had photos from soon after it was built and more recent ones, after a decade of neglect. There weren't many capturing the interior, but if it was anywhere similar to the outside, it should be in good condition for small renovations. It was big, too. Could become a home for a family, their dog, and visiting friends. Maybe someone's lesbian best friend and her love interest, too...

Needless to say, as soon as Steve found out about it, the house wouldn't leave his thoughts. It had a huge backyard that extended into the woods behind it. It was cheap for a house this size, probably because of its bad rap. And, the most important part, it was closer to Robin than the apartment he was currently renting. 

The last thing to check off on his list was seeing it in person. 

His manager didn't take his request well. 

"You think you can do something Bill couldn't?" he asks with his eyebrows raised. 

It takes all of Steve's strength not to scoff. 

"I'm not planning on selling it. I'm actually considering buying it."

That seems to only amuse his boss further. 

"Ha! You wouldn't be the first. Be my guest then." He shrugs, turning to reach a locked cabinet where the keys to the houses are stored. He hands him the ring of old keys. "Knock yourself out." He grins.

"Thank you." Steve nods and turns around to leave the office as soon as possible. He didn't share his plans with any of his coworkers, not interested in hearing their opinions, but he could feel the amused stares Angela was giving him over her coffee when he was packing to leave for the day.

When he's passing by her desk, she leans forward on her elbows, her proper, trimmed nails posed like claws on the mug. 

"Any plans for the weekend, Steven?" she asks with all the charm of a feral cat. 

Steve knows for a fact that Angela doesn't care about her coworkers' lives unless there are felines or police involved. There's only one reason she could be asking, and it's inside the pocket of his blazer. 

"Not really. Might visit a friend." He shrugs. "You?" 

"Well, good luck with that," Angela completely ignores his question. "I hope nothing spooky happens on your trip," she says as if she hopes something does happen to him.

"Thank you, Angela, you too." Steve nods to his coworker and leaves hastily so nothing evil attaches to him before he even enters a haunted house. 

The house was located an hour's drive away, and he didn't want to rush his exploration, so he waited for the weekend to come around before he went to see it. According to the map, it's been built off the main road, giving a sense of privacy and solitude. It was more part of the forest than the nearest neighborhood. A great place for an eccentric loner or a loud family that didn't want to be a bother.

Steve packed the house files, a notepad, measuring tape, and some lunch for his trip. And, upon some consideration, the upgraded walkie Dustin had given him. He wasn't going to risk being stranded miles from civilization without the means of contact. 

It was a Saturday, before noon, but he dialed the number he called at least once a week.

"Hello?" His favorite person picked up on the third ring, the tone of her voice indicating she had been asleep not so long ago.

"Hey Robs."

"Steve! What's up?"

His smile grew. Hearing her always felt better than he imagined when grabbing the phone, and soon he might be able to see her in person. 

"Do you have any plans for tonight?" he asks coyly, leaning on the wall in his kitchen. 

"I have some papers left to grade and might go grab drinks with the girls later. What about you?"

"I'm about to head out to scout a new house," he says, thumbing at the keys in his pocket. He doesn't want to share his plans yet, since they were mostly wishful thinking. Maybe the repairs were too out of his budget, maybe the house has gotten worse since the last photos of it had been taken. Or maybe there was something weird about it like everyone claimed. "It's on the way to Indianapolis, so if you don't mind, I could make a detour—"

"Do I mind?!" Robin screeches into his ear. He grins despite the volume briefly disorienting him. "I haven't seen you in a month, get your ass down here!" 

"Well, how could I say no, when you ask so nicely," he laughs.

"Damn right, I do!" she snickers back. "Now go go go, the sooner you start driving, the sooner you get here!"

"Okay, Jesus, so bossy."

They say their 'see you soon's and Steve grabs his duffel bag. Even if the house is a total bust, at least he'll spend the weekend with his best friend. 

The house is not a total bust.

He almost misses the turn leading to it, hidden behind overgrown bushes. The drive quickly turns from asphalt to gravel and then disappears completely, and he hopes the overgrown grass framed with young trees is leading him in the right direction.

His worries subside when he spots the roof peeking from between the trees and he's soon rolling into what probably used to be a driveway.

The sound of his car door closing resonates loudly in the rural scenery, scaring some birds above him. As he eyes the bushes between himself and the house's entrance, he wishes he had taken something other than a club with him. Albeit the worst of it has been torn or pushed aside, probably by Bill who's been here before him. The house itself looks like the pictures, maybe the ivy on the side has grown since then. Despite its age of about forty years and being abandoned, it still looks nice. 

He rounds the car and opens up the trunk, where he always had a couple of necessities. A first aid kit, a fire extinguisher, a flamethrower, and such. And the metal bat he reaches for right now. It's better to be safe than sorry, as he's run into squatters before.

He locks the car and using the bat, moves the bushes out of his way to the porch. He tries the steps first, and they seem sturdy so he steps up to the door. The colorful glass in its frame forms a rose. He's not a big fan of the design choice and wonders if it would be hard to get a matching door without it.

The hinges creak loudly when he pushes inside and takes the first proper look at the house's interior. Whoever planned the placement of all the windows did a great job because it felt illuminated from the inside, despite the dust covering everything. On his left is a study room, covered by shelves and with a huge window to provide proper reading light. He gives the cozy-looking chairs a cursory glance and moves on. On the right extends the front porch but with a couple of steps he finds the living room, with an old TV and a collection of couches that indicate the previous owners had a huge group of friends. 

Further down, he finds the dining room, the steps to the back porch, and the kitchen, where he stops for longer. Because there on the fridge, in colorful letter magnets, somebody has spelled 'fuck off'.

Steve snickers. He thought it was a nice touch for an allegedly haunted house. 

Some of the magnets were holding up drawings of dragons and similar creatures. He spotted some yellowing Spider-Man stickers too, so maybe whatever kids used to live here were also little nerds like his friends. Curiously, he opened the fridge to find an ancient can of Coke inside. The cupboards held long-expired jars of herbs, rice, and pasta. It seemed like the house was never properly cleaned out. 

Next on his journey was the upstairs, where he found three bedrooms and two bathrooms. The master bedroom held the biggest and most expensive bed he's ever seen. Dragging it upstairs, even in parts, must have been hell. It had a canopy too, semi-translucent and dark. It partially hid the painting hanging over the headboard, and he had to step closer to take a look at it.

It was another dragon, with its wings spread and toothy mouth dripping with drool on a small figure beneath it - a woman in a skimpy dress, with dragonfly wings. Steve makes a face. 

"A man of peculiar taste, I see," he murmurs to himself, backing away from the bed. The rest of the walls had similar paintings of mythical creatures, making Steve wonder what kind of person the previous owner was. And why would he abandon art and furniture that must have cost a small fortune? 

He opened the door on the side, which turned out to lead into a small walk-in closet. It had a full length mirror and the few things left on hangers looked more like costumes than regular clothes. The owner must have been an eccentric artist type. An actor, maybe? Or a musician, he notes, spotting an empty guitar stand in the corner. 

At least the bathroom looks relatively normal if you don't count the gargoyle faucets added in.

The guest room paintings are far more tame, giving the impression the owner wanted the saucy ones for himself. Aside from that, there's nothing really exciting about them. The furniture looks to be on the more expensive side, but if Steve didn't have his realtor knowledge he proably wouldn't even notice.

He checks the windows, which seem to be in good shape, maybe one or two need replacing, and others just need extra insulation. The back porch looks even better than the front one, but the backyard is a mess. It's surrounded by a tall fence to keep the wildlife away, but throughout the years, the forest started creeping through, the roots digging beneath, plants dropping their seeds to grow. It would be a lot of work to get rid of it.

The whole house was a lot of work, but not as much as Steve had feared. The construction was solid and it stood against weather and abandonment for years without taking much damage. He probably wouldn't need professionals for most of it. 

He stood in the middle of the foyer, listening to his guts while looking around the abandoned, empty house. He knew he had time to make a decision. He could talk it out with Robin if he wanted, although keeping it a surprise sounded more fun.

Giving the ground floor one last lazy stroll, he spots a door he had missed earlier. It's smaller than the usual door, making Steve assume it leads to the basement. Or, as the wooden plaque on the door claims, "The Dungeon". Which was not mentioned in the house plans he'd looked through. 

He pulls out the key ring from his back pocket to look for the right one, though he doesn't remember 'basement' being among the labels. He flicks through all of them again.

Main. Back. Master. Guest 1. Guest 2.

No basement in sight. 

Perhaps the key went loose from the keyring, or it was somewhere in the house. He wasn't about to go on a wild goose chase to see some cobwebs and spiders when the alternative was getting on the road to see his friend. 

He steps into the library once again, probably the most normal room of them all, and takes a closer look at the titles on the shelves. It's more fantasy, as he expected, with some classics he's heard about from Dustin, but mostly titles unknown to him. He finds a whole shelf of D&D manuals, too. He picks one up with a curious hum, wondering if there's a way to get those even if he doesn't go with the house after all. 

He's not sure how old the game is (Dustin had told him multiple times, but he always forgets) but he wouldn't be surprised if all the released material so far was in here. He gently places the paperback back in its place, assuming that they were stored in order and he didn't want to disturb that. He took a step back to take the room in.

Walls covered in books, floor to ceiling, a fireplace with figurines on the mantle, four cozy armchairs, and a low table with a map under a glass pane. Middle Earth, of course. 

The Party would love it, he muses. It doesn't feel like a coincidence, that the house he considers buying, has things that would appeal to his friends. But he knows he has to make a smart decision. And nothing clears his mind better than a night out with his best friend. 

read the rest on Ao3

[imslowlydisintegrating]

i love you 5’3” masc lesbians i love you tiny mascs i love you short androgynous people i love you pocket-sized butches i love you and i am one of you

[veritas-scribblings]

video - @jartylusmicrofics - words: 1,343 [explicit / NSFW]

[inspired by this post by @thatcoolguyeli]

The conference had been such a ‘drag’, as Barty would put it. Davide Bastelli, CEO of Bastelli Group, is a monolith of a man with impressively sculptured facial hair and little personality to speak of. He’s not so much grey, in any sense of the word. He’s more rough, chiselled slate stone—impressive to look at, expensive to purchase, but really that’s all. Even his accent, the lyrical way in which Italians speak that normally makes James a little weak at the knees, hadn’t been enough to counteract the aggressive boredom.

Actually, James had spent a ridiculous amount of the meeting trying to subdue his violent urges; a side effect, he thinks, of all the time he’s been spending around Barty. It had been around the one hour and fifty minute mark when James’s thoughts had taken a drastic swerve away from blood and gore and battered fists, courtesy of a text message from RegulusBarty.

There’s this game that Barty and Regulus like to play. It had started, Regulus says, when they were in school and he had admitted to Barty that he watches strangers simply existing and invents stories for them. Imagines who they are, their days and their lives, what adventures they’re going on and where they’re going on these adventures, and who they’re in love with and out of live with. And in his darker times, when they’ll die and how they’ll die and who they’ll leave behind.

Of course, Barty (being Barty) and taken this game and started to wonder what these strangers are like when they’re naked, when they’re having sex. What turns them on, what they’re freaks and unique kinks are, who they’ve recently had sex with, when they lost their virginity, what their O-face looks like, who would be their free pass.

James reckons that Bastelli is straight. As straight as an arrow, because no man that dull could possibly bend. It would be an insult to gays and lesbians and bisexuals and queers everywhere. Bastelli, James reckons, is a real sub in his sex life. There is no way he would wear the pants in any romantic dynamic. No man that tightly wound, that in control of himself, could ever continue to be so in bed. Bastelli for sure gets off on being dominated, and Barty and Regulus would have loved the challenge.

This is how Barty and Regulus had snared James. Because Barty had said to James that he strikes him as someone who is ‘vanilla in real life and an absolute freak in the sheets’ and had determinedly pursued confirmation. That’s Barty’s running theory: that the dullest people in real life are the filthiest in bed. James doesn’t think of himself as a vanilla sort of person, though he does like to think he’s a generous and creative lover.

He shrugs his jacket off, drops his bag by the door, stumbles over to the bed and falls face-first into the softness of the quilt and the sheets and the feather-down pillows. The Bastellis are filthy rich—Black Family Empire rich—and have put him up in the penthouse suite of what is likely a thousand-euros-plus-a-night luxury hotel in the heart of Milan. There is a fully stocked bar. A huge spa in the bathroom decked out with whirlpool features. A media room with a huge squashy couch and a thin-as-paper-big-as-the-wall television. A full kitchen with stainless steal premium appliances.

The bed is huge. King-sized. Enough room for James to comfortably fit three people, not that he has anyone to currently share it with. For the fourth time that afternoon, his phone vibrates in his pocket. He pulls it out with a groan. The phone and the thought of what was in those messages being sent to him have plagued him all day. Ever since he had made the mistake of opening the first photo that Barty had sent using Regulus’s phone, and he’d seen Regulus spread out naked on their bed.

And the blood in James had rapidly drained south. And he’d had to quickly hide his phone, because he’d been sitting in the conference at the time right next to Bastelli’s personal assistant, who is nosy enough to have tried to sneak a glance.

James has all the plans of strangling Barty when he gets back, and not in the kinky sort of way either, because Barty would eat that shit up. It’ll be strangling in the ‘I’m going to actually murder you’ sense of the word. Because it’s day five, and James is tired and lonely and sexually frustrated. And Barty obviously knows this, because he’s spent the last five days sending James explicit photos with sentences like, ‘wish you were here’ and ‘thinking of you’.

And now James is ready to cut the business trip short and fly back home so he can join in, because he wantswantswants. Fuck the Bastelli luxury portfolio. James has other, more important, business to attend to.

It’s not a photo this time. It’s a video. James knows he shouldn’t open it; he probably should just delete it. Watching it will not solve his problem, nor will it do him any good. As it is, his trousers already feel so tight and, laying face down on the bed, the friction against his arousal is doing things for him. With a sigh, James flips over, toes off his shoes and socks and pulls his trousers off, discarding them by the foot of his bed. He reaches down to palm himself through his pants, a groan caught in his throat. He’s wanted to do this for hours now.

Realistically, James has always been the curious sort, the sort with impulse control issues. He thumbs the video open and is immediately greeted by the sound of skin rustling against a microphone. The movement of the camera is so shaky and blurry that James has no idea what’s going on—no, actually, he does—though he does recognise their bedroom.

When all the movement in the video stills, the phone having been rested on what’s likely the dresser, Barty gives him a shit-eating ‘cat who got the cream’ grin. He’s on all fours, staring into the camera, his erection full, glistening and hanging heavy between his legs. He’s sweaty and messy enough that James can tell they’ve been doing things for a while now. He can just imagine how it had all gone down: they’d been in the middle of something and either Barty or Regulus had stopped and said, ‘oh hey, let’s film this so James doesn’t feel left out.’ James wouldn’t put it past them to think that they’re actually being considerate.

In the video, Barty glances over his shoulder at Regulus, who is laid out on the bed behind him, his knees spread open so he can comfortably work his fingers into himself. Barty turns back to the camera and says with a breathy laugh, ‘we didn’t want you to feel left out.’

James quickly dumps the phone aside so he can loosen his tie and pull his shirt off. In his haste, he becomes tangled and tugs and struggles and squirms, and when he finally gets the shirt off his glasses go with it and he cries out in sheer frustration.

He can hear familiar noises coming from the phone. Regulus’s moans, which are always ‘from the depth of his chest’ deep, and Barty cursing up a storm, his pure and creative obscenities. James yanks his pants off and throws them onto the floor, and finally settles back against the pillows, his glasses securely in place so he can clearly see Barty on his knees, Regulus reaching behind to hold onto the headboard, Barty holding onto Regulus’s hips as he thrusts into him.

Lip caught between his teeth, James fists his leaking cock, works his hand up and down his length, squeezes firmly at the base because he knows he’s not going to last. The video is just over eight minutes long and James has every intention of seeing it through.

[ddejavvu]

Reader who steals clothes from both Steve and Robin (maybe a poly, maybe just the best of friends) but they always let it happen, neither of them complain! Until one day you notice half your closet missing, and when you go into family video, both members of the himbo and lesbian dynamic are covered head to toe in your stolen clothes

as per the request criteria, they all swap clothing so it's implied that they're relatively similar sized!

--

You find it rather unfair that, out of all of the clothes in your closet, your favorite jeans have gone missing. The ones that you wear every day, the ones that you've nearly worn holes through, the ones that fit you so perfectly they might as well be a second skin. They've got deep pockets and a good waistband, but the ones you'd had to shove on last-minute to get to work on time are too-tight and the pockets are sewn shut to the rest of the fabric.

You're already in a bad mood when you storm through the doors due to the uncomfortable pressure around your waist, and your belongings dangling from your hands instead of tucked safely into your pockets, but your eyes zero in on Robin's pants immediately. She's waiting for you at the door, holding a stack of tapes in one arm as she smirks at your disheveled appearance.

Her pants are your pants.

"Morning, Sunshine," She drawls, that lazy smirk over her face fitting her features like a glove, "Jeans shrink in the wash?"

"The hell- those are mine!" You accuse, jabbing a finger towards her lower half. The jeans fit her just as snugly as they do you, and you see a pen barely visible in the pocket. Your pocket.

"We decided to get you back," She explains, "You take our clothes all the time. It's time we stole yours, too."

"We?" You ask, "Where's Steve?"

"Here." He calls from behind a few shelves down, "Your jacket's really comfy, by the way."

You stalk over to where his voice is coming from and find him snugly fitted into your lush pink zip-up, the hood fleece-lined for cold winters. There's rhinestones on the back that say 'babygirl', and when he peers up at you through his lashes where he's crouching to shelve tapes, he looks the part.

"You rats," You conclude, jaw perpetually agape, "I- I'll give back your clothes, I swear! Just don't stretch out my jacket, Steve." You cast a wary glance down to the zipper that looks like it may spring free from its constraints and smack you in the forehead, "Your boobs are too big.”

[blorbocedes]

i wish u would write: more lesbians!sico 🙏🏻

"Would you still like me if I was a worm?"

Seb asks stupid questions like this, lying belly flop on Nico's dorm bed.

"No. Worms are disgusting." Nico rolls her eyes, carefully cutting out Britney Spears' image from the glossy magazine cover. She's going to mail order that halter top later.

Seb turns to look at her all sad with her freakish blue eyes and floppy hair, about to launch into an explanation about why worms are very important for the ecology, actually. Nico revises her answer. Blame Lewis for insults being her love language.

"I would put you in a terrarium. Plenty of enrichment. Good soil."

"We cannot date if I'm in a terrarium." Seb pouts. Her tee shirt rode up as she moved, exposing a stripe of pale skin. Seb's always pale while Nico gets a flush golden tan in Monaco. Sebastian has gotten this strange impression that simply because they have sex and spend time together afterwards that they're 'dating.' Nico hasn't corrected her on it yet.

"It's frowned upon to date worms." Nico finishes her scrapbooking, scooching over to the squeaky twin sized dorm bed.

"Well, I would date you if you were a worm. Maybe it would be better, I could finally get you to come watch the Return Of The King with me." Seb smiles, linking one of her legs with Nico's, jeans against bare skin.

"How would you get a terrarium in the theatre, genius?" Nico hates that she's playing along this stupid thought experiment, when there's a young, hot body in her bed and she doesn't have class until the afternoon. She runs her fingers against Seb's bare stomach, feels her get goosebumps at the touch.

"I'll-- uh," Seb is momentarily distracted, blinking at Nico, licking her lips, and they really are so red and biteable. "Sneak you in my pocket. Keep you warm."

It's 2004 and none of their jeans have real pockets.

"Yeah?" Nico crawls on top, eyes dark. "Keep me here?" Nico pulls on the fake pocket of her low rise jeans, exposing her hip bone, circling her thumb over it. Seb writhes at the touch. It's very validating, she goes pink wherever Nico touches her, as if Seb isn't the one whose fucked everyone on campus while Nico's relatively new to carpet munching, but a diligent learner.

"Or here?" Nico asks, sliding her hand under Seb's shirt -- squeezing her tit, impossibly warm like a molten core.

"Damn you. Everywhere." Seb begs, promises, pulling Nico down to put her tongue in her mouth.