#some real Dyke shit

[lace-knots]

babe woke me up with her cock in my throat and then let me ride her face til I came. then she showed me how to play night elf in warcraft iii she's so fucking perfect

[sendmyresignation]

something I've been thinking about lately. i do think it's incredibly telling that almost 80 percent of the conversations around 'gatekeeping' and 'posers' and shit end up just becoming vitriolic hatred of 'alt girls' like i hate shit spotify playlists and dollskill fake leather edge and tiktok recommendations as much as the next person but this is a very big attitude coming from a website full of people who spent their formative middle school years shopping at hot topic for multi-colored skinny jeans while listening to like. falling in reverse or 21p unironically (this is a self-own btw). first of all teenagers having shit taste isn't killing punk music. but also why is the object of your hatred always boil down to a woman faking it? as if it isn't the single oldest stereotype in heavy music? like am i insane for thinking this is an issue

[theygender]

Apparently the scene you get with Shadowheart if you get her approval all the way up and then tell her you want to get to spend time with her is the same one you're supposed to get at the tiefling party, which means if you trigger it early you may not get any scene with her at the party at all. This made things pretty confusing when I showed up expecting to advance my romance with her and instead she just gave me some generic "lol wine is good huh" dialogue meanwhile every other companion* BUT her was actively trying to jump my bones... Literally just had to beat everyone else off of my Tav with a stick and then go to bed alone 😔

*Except Lae'zel, who instead went on an unprompted rant about how she knew I wanted to fuck her sooo bad but I had Pissed Her Off by making her be Nice to People so now she would NEVER allow me the pleasure of having crazy hot githyanki sex with her. (She propositioned me a few days later anyways)

[fappellmoan]

something that makes me feel guilty is the fact that seeing that persons face rn literally makes me angry. they walked into class and i nearly winced. and in all fairness they were quite kind to me. outside of the several kind of odd red flags. girl whatever. to be quite frank i am a horny bastard and vocal proud etc but few people interest me enough to actually want to hang out with and get to know And i have deep seated intimacy issues so it's like. we really dont have a shot unless the circumstances r exactly right on a full moon perfect thursday of a month etc like. well and tbh i probably would have fucked around with this person but i dont... care... about some big relationship w them.. and i know i could be a relationship girl like eventually i have it in me to have a muse that's what im built for i think idc but not rn... rn i need to hang out with my friends and do my film stuff and have people that maybe wanna make out sometimes is that so much to ask for. for a lesbian at a bar to want to make out perhaps. ** for there to be lesbians at the bars to potentially make out with.

[fagdykebassboy]

Crazy thing is I know there's queers that go play spin bottle while zonked out down by the river and yes I'm pissed that I'm never invited

[phagodyke]

ohhhhh my god girl i don't careeeee

[evandorepart2]

‘if women can have posts talking about women without men then men should be able to have posts without women!!!!!’ first of all you sound fucking stupid and misogynistic but like. no surprise there lol and second of all most of these posts talking about women get derailed bc cunts like you cant keep it to yourself and make something for once in your life Not about men. why shouldnt women complain. its pathetic to be upset about something like that. stop being so insecure loser

[autolenaphilia]

Edit: as hoshi9zoe pointed out, the original version of this post needlessly berated other transfems like Jennifer Coates, for which I do apologize, and I have toned it down in this edited version. The original version survives in reblogs.

Some months ago, I was searching through this transandrobro blog to see if they posted a callout of me, and i found this reblog, which I couldn't really write about for months, because what do I even write. I recently wayback machined it for posterity, and I guess this is my attempt to write a post about it.

It's saint-dyke himself, the coiner of transandrophobia, saying that the infamous (at least for me) article "I am a transwoman. I'm in the closet. I'm not coming out" is what made him coin the fucking word. It's literally bolded and underlined: "Reading this article is what made me coin “transandrophobia”.

The reason I put off writing this post is that reading that article makes me feel like i'm drinking poison. And it is poison, make no mistake, it's internalized transmisogyny brainworms dripping out of the writer's brain and onto the page.

It's a justification for why the author, known by pseudonym Jennifer Coates, doesn't want to transition, despite knowing she is a trans woman. And it's the exact kind of internalized transmisogyny that keeps trans women in repression and not transitioning. "I'm not going to pass, i'm forever going to be an ugly freak who will at best be humored by other women, the closet is uncomfortable but at least it's safe"

It's the same exact bullshit a lot of represssed trans women tell themselves because it's what society tells us about trans women, that we are freakish parodies of women, that we will never pass, and if we don't pass we have failed and are ugly freaks. It's all to scare us into staying in the closet and make others hate and fear us. Transmisogyny permeates our society, and the majority, maybe all transfems will absorb and internalize some of it.

Coates says that it all is just applicable to her, but again so many transfems believe this shit before transitioning and realizing it's a pack of lies. If this bullshit was in any way valid, a lot of trans women shouldn't transition, because before we actually transition many of us believe it word for word. And "it's only true for me" is how we justify it to ourselves. We tend to be way harsher on ourselves than others. This kind of self-hating transfem tends to think: "Other trans women are beautiful graceful goddesses, earthly manifestations of the divine feminine, always destined to be women, while I'm an ugly forever male ogre who just has a fetish."

It's all bullshit, it's poison, it's internalized transmisogyny.

And the rest of the article is bullshit too. It is not some insightful mediation on gender as some people say, it's the author confusing and mixing up actual transmisogyny with an imagined problem of misandry. She does this because she has gone full repression mode, and decided she has no other choice to live as a man, so her dysphoria and experiences of transmisogyny are actually men's problems.

It's a bad article, excusable because as Coatas points out, it's "essentially a diary entry." that was meant to be a way to "vent frustration" and she "did not intend for anyone else to actually read it." It is clearly not the product of a healthy mind.

I hope the author sometime in the past seven years eventually did transition, and that for whatever reason she didn't want to publicly repudiate her own article. Maybe she lost access to the medium account so she can't delete it.

Far worse than the article itself is the response to it. I've seen it passed around as some insightful commentary on gender by the "feminists are too mean to men, misandry is real" crowd. I have argued against this before. And other people have made insightful comments about it.

And learning that saint-dyke claiming that he was inspired to coin the word "transandrophobia" because of this article is the cherry on top of this shitcake of transmisogyny. For my thoughts on "transandrophobia" theory and how transmisogynistic it is, see here.

Of course, Saint-dyke absolutely could be bullshitting here. Claiming that Coates's article is what inspired him to coin the word might be a lie to claim that transandrophobia theory is not transmisogynistic because it came from listening to trans women.

This is why "listen to trans women" doesn't work. Because TME people will always choose a trans woman who confirms their prejudices. Blair White has made an entire career out of this. And Coates article is popular because it says that misandry is real and trans women's issues are partly caused by it, misgendering herself and other trans women.

And it's popular for another reason. Coates has thoroughly internalized transmisogyny, and thus her article presents a trans woman that is exactly as transmisogynistic patriarchal society wants her to be. She is suffering, but ultimately accepts her assigned role. She truly believes that her biological sex dooms her to forever be male. She literally "manages her dysphoria by means other than transition" as conversion therapy advocates want us to do. She never makes an social claim on womanhood by actually transitioning, so she doesn't invade the sacred women's spaces. Yet she performs the role of woman perfectly by serving men, by defending them from supposed feminist misandry. And she fulfils the ritualistic role that the rhetorical figure of "trans women" sometimes serves in progressive spaces, of giving a blessing to TME people's pre-existing views and actions, all while actual flesh-and-blood trans women are destroyed by those same deeply transmisogynistic spaces. This time it's a blessing for the same "misandry is real" soft-MRA bullshit that has infested the online left and created the transandrophobia crowd.

That is why this article and the positive response makes me sick, makes me feel like i'm drinking poison. This is what its fans want trans women to be like. I'm acutely aware this kind of self-denial is exactly what transmisogyny wants from me and tried to indoctrinate me into doing it. And I want none of it. I want to live, I want to be a woman.

[queermasculine]

IG, for you trans men are not queer masculine enough… 😔 (seeing everyone but trans men here)

hey man i'm sorry if you thought this page was a general archive documenting lgbtq masculinity or something like that, but this is very much a lesbian blog, with a mostly lesbian/wlw audience. you say you're "seeing everyone" here but look again: what you're actually seeing is mostly butch art, butch selfies, general lesbo stuff, and pics of men i frequently tag with shit like "this but a butch lesbian." the men are mostly cis simply because photos of cis dudes are free real estate in a way photos of trans dudes are not – nobody gets hurt if a thousand lesbos tag a cis man's photo with "serving milf dyke cunt" or whatever. some trans guys identify as butch and would be okay with that happening to their photos, but by default i assume they're not and mostly stick to using cis guys for dyke inspo. on my dyke blog. for dykes. hope this helps

[diamonds-of-the-first-water]

I Have Evolving Thoughts on Fran’s Sexuality

(god hannah dodd is so pretty)

First of all let’s thank GOD francesca is the queer sister and not…that other one.

Anyways upon my initial viewing of part 2 I definitely read Fran as bisexual and if you continue to read her as such I think that’s fine but my mind has changed on the matter.

I believe that Fran is actually a lesbian suffering from comphet.

The reason this actually started to seem likely to me is because of her wedding scene with John. The whole season I thought they seemed so taken with one another and I enjoyed their quiet dynamic. They were more than comfortable sitting in silence with one another and seemed to grow closer in that way.

I like many others assumed this meant their love was romantic, but that kiss

Would a woman who is attracted to men make this face after kissing the man she loves? I don’t think so. Some people seem to think it’s because she’s shy but it doesn’t seem like she’s even thinking about her family here. It seems like she has retreated into her own thoughts. It seems like she was disappointed. And after spending the whole season feeling nothing for any of the men she meets why wouldn’t she be. She met a man she loved and she kissed him and she didn’t feel those sparks.

Now Fran is also autistic coded so this initially affected the way I viewed her relationships as well, but all of that changes when you take into account Michaela.

Francesca immediately starts to stutter and is flustered when she sees Michaela. We have never seen Fran act this way with a man, even her husband. It wasn’t for no reason that Violet describes how she felt the first time she fell in love with Edmund and then almost immediately after Fran reacts the same way to Michaela. The butterflies, not being able to string a sentence together. This was foreshadowing.

Some people were upset because they said it erased everything Fran said about having a quiet love and that is somewhat true, but I disagree with people saying that it erases slowly built love when Polin’s whole story is about love not striking you like a bolt of lightning.

None of this is to say she can’t love John, I believe she does I just feel it is platonic, and the loss of John would hit hard even if he was her best friend. John is one of the great loves of her life but who is to say that love is romantic? Friendships are the foundation of our lives and they are equally as important as any romantic relationship. Fran met someone who understands her and is like her, that doesn’t mean she has to have romantic attraction for him.

Some of this is affected by personal bias as I am a late-blooming lesbian, but holy shit the way I relate to Fran wanting to get married just because it would mean she wouldn’t have to pursue any other relationships with men and the way she was willing to accept whoever the Queen deemed fit because she didn’t have any criteria except “is kind to me”. Fran does not seem to be searching for love as she has not felt it before. The closest she comes is with John because the two of them are so similar and I believe she thought that because she liked him so much that she must be in love with him which is just so…lesbian coded I don’t know how to explain it.

This isn’t to say bisexuality isn’t real or is “just a phase”. Ew. Gross. No. This is just the way I am interpreting the character with the information we have now. If it comes out definitely that she is bisexual then I will accept that, sapphic rep is so needed.

All in all they look so good and I can’t wait to see these queers kiss and have a romance.

Also I think that Michaela still could have fallen first. Fran just realized she was a dyke at that exact moment and her brain stopped working which is valid. But did you see the way Michaela looked at her. I KNOW A LESBIAN FALLING IN LOVE WHEN I SEE ONE.

[theprettynosferatu]

CONTENT WARNING. NO, FOR REAL, READ THIS FIRST.

This story contains strong themes and graphic non-consensual sex. If you feel they might affect you adversely, skip this one.

Andrea is being tormented in college by a bigoted popular girl. Her daddy has always helped her... maybe he can help her get some justice...

CW: Incest, non-con, SA, orientation play (F-straight to bi)

I - No Expiration Date

She felt ridiculous. She probably looked ridiculous too, sitting against the wall, grabbing her knees, almost shaking, all in the middle of the hallway. Most made a point to not look at her, rushing to their classes, their dorms or wherever the hell they needed to be with such haste. Well, Andrea knew they only rushed because of her, to give themselves a plausible excuse to avoid doing the right thing and checking up on the poor, weird girl hyperventilating on the ground.

The worst part was that Andrea knew she shouldn’t let it get to her. If anything, it was Kate that should be ashamed of herself, not Andrea- fuck, to say such things in these days was almost quaint in its ignorance, and if Andrea chose to make a stink, grounds for expulsion. Would it be considered a hate crime? Maybe. But going up to the dean or whoever like a poor little victim felt so… humiliating. Perhaps more so than Kate’s constant, whispered words and stories. And some idiots actually listened to her! 

Andrea supposed that was the big perk of having a rich, connected daddy. Even the most moronic and bigoted statements found an audience eager to please, if only for the unspoken promise of future gifts, recommendations, networking opportunities. Shit, even the dean might sweep the whole thing under the rug just to please her family. Andrea could feel the rage building up inside her chest, making her almost sick. Part of it was the stench of injustice that surrounded the whole deal. But most of her anger was directed at herself. It wasn’t as if any of this was new to her: she had come out in highschool. Every insult and every joke and every slur had been thrown at her a thousand times over already. 

But… college was supposed to be different. Even the teachers that saw the abuse in her younger years had told her so. It will get better. You’ll get out of here, and in college all this will be a distant memory. That hope had kept her going even as everyone forgot her name and simply called her “The Dyke” her entire senior year. But those were kids. Kate was a fucking adult. And yet, bigotry seemed to have no expiration date.

Fuck. The bullying wasn’t even fucking accurate! Andrea had been openly bi for years, but apparently the nuances of sexual orientation were irrelevant when it came to making one person the butt of every facile joke, a stepping stone to get some sweet, addicting attention. And Kate loved nothing more than attention. Good, bad, who cared? As long as the spotlight was on her, whatever hole she had in what she called a soul was temporarily filled. Fucking go to therapy, you cunt! Did daddy not hug you enough? Used dollars as a substitute for affection? Boo-hoo. It didn’t justify a goddamn thing.  

Andrea took a deep breath and managed to get up. Her Social Psych lecture was about to start, and Andrea knew she would skip it, even if she tried to fool herself for a moment, to force her legs to walk towards the classroom. Step by step, she headed for her dorm room. Fuck. Another absence. Kate was even fucking up her academic life. But what could Andrea do? Go to the professor and explain that, sorry, I couldn’t make it because the rich girl made fun of me?

She threw herself on the bed with punishing force. A miniature form of self-harm, she figured. Sometimes she hated majoring in psychology: that little voice that analyzed her actions almost made her feel like she was performing her suffering, rather than feeling it fully. And that distancing might also be a defense mechanism. Well, shit. How does one turn their brain off?

Andrea felt a pang in her chest, a familiar longing for home. Sure, it wasn’t a perfect place and money was always tight. Sure, her mother had vanished when she was barely one year old. Sure, the old place was in dire need of repairs and an update. But it was home. Of course, she knew she was lying to herself by omission. She was trying not to think of the one person that made it a home, and inevitably, in trying to suppress the idea, it came to her twice as strong. Daddy. Her father was her home, and it made her feel childish, helpless, as if she was ten and running to him whenever things went poorly. That her mind still went to him filled her with shame.

Oh, bullshit. You know damn well why you don’t want to think about him.

She couldn’t tell when it had happened, exactly. It had been something slow, growing inside her, indirectly pushing her subconscious. If she looked back at her dating history, a pattern emerged, one hidden at the time but blindingly obvious in retrospect: similar to dad, similar to dad… and then, when an errant comment by a friend (“All I’m saying is, like, for an old guy… you’re dad is kinda hot”) opened her eyes, she swerved in an attempt to escape her feelings. Different from dad, different from dad… The problem with “different from dad” was, of course, that those guys were, well, different from her dad. 

The summer before college had been the worst. She did her best to be home as little as possible.

Before she knew it, twin emotions were boiling over inside her. The first made her feel sick to her stomach, made her muscles tense up, made her breathing shallow and quick, as if she was about to leap and bite some animal’s neck. It was rage, pure and shining, clad with the garment of a righteous need for justice. It isn’t fair. It isn’t fucking fair. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. That fucking bitch. She needs to suffer. She needs to be punished. She needs to fucking learn some humility. And at the same time, the second feeling snuck up on her, traveling in the shadow of the first, mingling with it until they became one, like snakes mating. Dad. She needs to suffer, dad. Make her suffer for me. Please. Please, daddy. Do this for me and I’ll… 

Andrea snapped back to reality, horrified. She moved her hand from between her legs, not even knowing when she had started playing with herself. Fuck, she was soaked. Shame almost brought her to tears, until Kate’s sneering face popped back in her mind. She had endured enough for one day. She had earned a little bit of fantasy. Just that. It wasn’t as if she’d ever do anything about… well, anything. But she could imagine, couldn’t she? She wasn’t that much of a coward- she could dare to imagine Kate, and dad, and… 

Fuck it. Who cared if it was wrong. She needed release.

Andrea let her hand go back between her legs.

II - The Call

Mike found himself staring at his phone. His morning coffee had gotten cold, but he took a sip anyway, almost as an automatic action. He couldn’t stop playing the conversation back in his head over and over.

“Dad, I’m on my way. I need your help. I… I’ll explain…”

“Andrea, are you okay? What happened?”

“I… I’ll be there in about an hour. I kinda… I don’t want to talk over the phone. Dad, I… nevermind. We’ll talk when I get there.”

And that had been it. No clues, no hint, nothing to guide him except the tone in his daughter’s voice. She was scared, and she was suffering, and that was all that he needed to know. Whatever it was that was harming her girl, he’d move Heaven and Earth to make it better. That much he knew, deep in his heart. Still, he couldn’t stop picturing the worst possible scenarios.

He tried to remain calm. Sexual assault on college campuses is… 

Mike pushed the thought away.  

Restrictions on reproductive rights have…

Snippets of news stories slapped him. The world could be a terrifying place for a young woman. But that was why they had chosen a college close to home. So Andrea could always come to him if she needed help. And she clearly needed help. Stay focused, old man. She needs you to be strong. Don’t let her see you panic. 

He needed to be strong for her. That was all he always wanted to be, more than anything: a rock, a place of stability, a North Star for the one thing that mattered in his life. They had faced the world together. They had survived poverty together. They had endured the pain of an absent mother and wife together. They had managed a retrograde high school that tormented Andrea together. She had saved his life as much as he had fostered hers. Without his girl, Mike wasn’t sure where he would be- perhaps underground. She had been the reason to dig deep, to find strength, to endure, always. 

Don’t let her see you panic.

Don’t let her see you looking at her.

He shook the intrusive thought off. Andrea needed him, not his fucked up neuroses, not the secret shame the last months of living together had awakened in him.

One hour stretched into a year, and Mike practically leaped out the door as soon as he heard the car pulling over. The first thing he noticed was his daughter’s panicked face, and that alone was enough to make his heart feel like it was about to burst out of his chest. The second thing he noticed was the other girl, passed out in the passenger’s seat. Andrea rushed into his arms, and he held her tight, trying to will some degree of peace into her mind. First things first.

“Are you okay?”, he asked.

“Yes, I’m… I’m fine.”, Andrea sobbed.

Good. Now to do what he did best: fix things.

“Ok, so, your friend…”

“She’s not my friend.”

“What did she take? Did you take anything? Look, I’m not… I won’t get mad, I just need to know what she may have taken… is it just booze? No, couldn’t be… Benzos? Or… Christ, I don’t know what you guys take these days in college…”

“Dad! She didn’t take anything!”

“Are you sure? Maybe she went into some bathroom and did something… okay. First things. We need to call an ambulance…”

“Dad, please! Listen to me! I’ll explain everything. But we need to get her inside before anyone sees-”

“Andrea, this girl is passed out! She needs medical attention! Who knows what-”

“I know what she took because I gave it to her, okay? She’s just asleep! And she should be asleep for… maybe another couple of hours. Daddy, please… I swear I’ll explain. Just help me get her into the house, okay?”

Mike felt dumbfounded. The idea that his Andrea had roofied some other girl was so distant from his image of her, from the girl he had raised, that the contradiction felt impossible to resolve. It was a paralyzing feeling, one he couldn’t entirely put into words. All he knew was he didnt like it one bit. He was a man of action. He needed to do things, more than ponder feelings. And the thing to do, if only to escape that horrid sensation, was to get the poor girl out of the car.

They dragged Kate into the house, and laid her down on Andrea’s bed- a task that, Mike noticed, his daughter undertook with less care than he would have liked. Back in the living room, he looked at his daughter and put on his best stern face. Stern was good. It hid other ideas that came into his mind when he looked directly at Andrea.

“Explain.”

Andrea broke down in tears.

“Daddy, that girl… Kate.. she’s… she’s making my life Hell! She tortures me every day, makes fun of me, spreads rumors about me… people think… I don’t even know what they think about me anymore. So I can’t make any friends. Just like high school. It’s the same damn thing! And they all said… you said college would be different! But it’s not! Maybe it’s my fault. Maybe I’m just… I don’t know. Broken. Maybe people can smell I’m weird, or weak, or… and they know they can abuse me and mock me and… It’s not fair! And I didn’t know what to do, I wasn’t thinking straight… I just put a couple of pills in her tea, and… I freaked out. I needed to feel safe, and I feel safe here… with you.”

Mike took it all in. He had to admit the sight of his precious daughter in such despair was enough to pierce any ideas of being tough he might have. And yes, it wasn’t fair. The world wasn’t fair at all. Andrea was beautiful, smart, creative… but there would always be those people who couldn’t understand someone being different, loving who they loved, being their authentic self. He got the anger. He got the frustration. He hated that Andrea had been driven to this point. But there was a big thing to address.

“Honey… I know… but you can’t just… just… kidnap someone!”

Andrea couldn’t help herself. She ran into her father’s arms, and hugged him tight.

“Daddy… I didn’t know what to do. I…”

She went silent. Mike couldn’t find the words to console her, to lecture her, to say anything at all. All he could do was feel the warmth of her body pressed against him, intuit her soft curves, take in the smell of her shampoo, her skin. It was intoxicating, and for once he let himself feel… whatever it was he was feeling. He let himself enjoy the moment, and even the sleeping girl in the bedroom seemed to fade away from his consciousness. They simply lingered, holding each other, taking it all in.

Such a moment couldn’t last. It shouldn’t last. Mike forced himself to speak, to say… whatever he could muster.

“What… I don’t know what you expect me to do…”

He felt Andrea’s hands on his back holding him tighter. He felt her warm breath on his ear, sending shivers down his spine as she whispered before the words even registered in his brain.

“Daddy… please… fuck her for me. Fucking rape the cunt… show her her place. Daddy… break her with your cock. For me.”

III - Persuasion 

Andrea couldn’t tell exactly what happened to her, what shifted within herself in that embrace, what damn had finally broken in her mind. Even as her father pushed her away with a horrified look on his face, she could see him- almost as if for the first time. A veil that had been dulling her sight for so, so long had finally vanished. Yes, she saw everything so clearly now, with such simple purity, devoid of fear or shame or silly excuses. It was a bizarre sensation, to finally be able to accept without doubt or hesitation the truth, so long buried.

She wanted to fuck him.

He wanted to fuck her.

So obvious. So simple. So powerful. Andrea wasn’t going to run away from it anymore. And she could see, under the mask of horror worn by her father, beneath the shock in his eyes, something else. Stirring. 

Suddenly, Andrea felt powerful. Immense. Sexy. In control. The fact that she had become one with her secret desires and he hadn’t brought a predatory joy to her chest… and something else, both an anger and a need. In her heart she could see not just what her father was but what he could be, what he could become, what he needed to be. She could almost smell it- the strong, conquering Man suffocated by the dull veneer of morality and social norms. Yes, she felt powerful- but she didn’t need to be strong. She needed to be taken by him. She needed to bring the beast forth, somehow. To make him see himself as she saw him. To make him see her as she wanted to be seen.

She smiled inside, even as her father almost recoiled from her. It was all a game, now. One she intended to win.

In the blink of an eye her entire demeanor, her posture, the way she looked at her father shifted. For a second she was the perfect picture of innocence, of a young woman in need of rescue.

“Daddy… please… I need your help. Won’t you help your little girl? I promise I’ll be good. I’ll be so… so good to you, Daddy. I’ll be your good little girl. Your obedient… slutty… little daughter”, she smiled as she took one step towards her father, her body now swaying like a cat slowly approaching its prey. She took a moment to delight in the confusion in her father’s eyes, the tension increasing almost to a breaking point.

“I… what are you…”, managed to mumble Mike. Oh, it was so pathetic it became cute.

“Daddy… you think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me recently? It must be so, so hard for you… to see your little girl all grown up, and you all alone… that’s not fair, is it?”, said Andrea as she closed the distance with her now paralyzed father. Oh, this was too much fun. “You have been a bad daddy in your mind, haven’t you? That sounds so painful! Knowing it’s soooo wrong to think about your little girl like that… having to pretend you don’t want to… Fuck. Your. Daughter. Oh daddy, don’t blush! Surprised to hear such naughty words coming from my cute mouth? Or… do you like me having such a potty mouth?”

Andrea, in a swift motion ran her hand over her father’s crotch. Yes. She could feel it. So hard. So warm. She was right. He was breaking.

“Feels like your daddy cock likes me talking like a dirty slut! Don’t be ashamed! I love to imagine your cock getting so hard for me… I love to know I can make it so, so happy… And only using my words! Just talking like the hopeless little fucking whore I am… for you… just knowing you can use my tight holes whenever you want… however you want… and I’ll take it like a good girl! I am your good girl, daddy. You made me, after all… you own me… you can own every inch of my slutty, smooth body…”

Suddenly, she took a step back, her eyes almost in tears. She was the very picture of anguish, of despair, of vulnerability. Mike opened his mouth to speak, but he found no words came to him. He just watched, fighting his need to hug her, to protect her, to tell her he would make everything right again.

“Daddy… I’m so sorry… I don’t know what got into me. I just feel so confused, so disoriented, and… I don’t know. It’s like I have all these feelings inside me and they get all mixed up and I can’t really tell what I feel anymore, and it hurts so much. It hurts, Daddy. And that girl… Kate… I can’t tell you how much she’s hurt me, how she has been messing with my mind and making me so miserable… and… and I guess, I’m not sure, just… I thought you could help me, Daddy. You always could help me. You always could make me feel like everything would be okay, that I wasn’t a freak, or…”

“Honey, you are not a freak! You know this. You’ve been so brave, so strong, so true to yourself, even when everyone gave you grief over it!” He couldn’t help himself anymore. He held his sweet girl in his arms.

“But I… I did a bad thing, Daddy. I brought Kate here… I couldn’t think of anything else to do to make her stop, to make her leave me alone…”

“I know. And yes, you did a… wrong thing. But that doesn’t make you a monster, or evil or anything like that, okay? We’ll… I’ll find a way… I’ll help you. I’ll… fix it, somehow.”

“Will you rape her for me? Will you punish her with your cock for hurting your little girl? I’ll be so, so good for you if you do it, daddy… I’ll be the bestest daughter ever for you!”

Mike tried to pull away before he was interrupted by the sensation of warm, soft lips on his own. Time stopped. He felt dizzy, trapped in the feeling, the scent of skin, the rush of adrenaline in his chest. He panicked as he realized he didn’t stop it in time. He didn’t stop it as time stretched. He wasn’t stopping it even as the thoughts flooded his mind. It took Mike every ounce of willpower to push his daughter away.

Oh, it was so fun to see her Daddy so confused, so aroused, so disoriented. But Kate would wake up soon. Andrea needed to land the killing blow on whatever resistance her dear dad had left.

“I’m sorry Daddy… it’s just that I love you so, so much…” One slow, seductive step towards him. “I was bad, Daddy. I shouldn’t have done that, right? Does that make me a bad girl? A bad daughter?” Another step. So close now. “I’m so, so sorry for being bad, Daddy. I’m sorry I made your cock all hard for me and teased you and used all those dirty, dirty words. Will you punish me, Daddy? Will you make me good again, show me my place? I think you should. I think you should take your cock, and-”

One final step, and Mike snapped. For the first time in his life, he slapped his daughter. Horror set on his face, and it became a mixture of bewilderment and fire when he noticed Andrea’s reaction. She was smiling.

“Mmmmh… so strong, Daddy. Do it again. Punish me. Show me you own me. Make me your bitch!”

It was over for Mike. Something primal, something awful had taken hold of him. 

His hand on her neck. Hers rubbing his cock over his pants. Her soft moans. Kisses that turned into bites. His own mumbled, jumbled words. Little cunt. Evil fucking bitch. Her words, playing off his. Your little cunt. Your good little girl. Her face against the wall. Her movements, grinding her ass against him. Her hands on his chest, pushing him back. 

So many lines crossed. Mike knew, deep down, he had broken something inside himself. Or maybe she had broken it in him. It didn’t matter. He looked down at the beautiful, perfect woman kneeling and smiling. He saw his daughter, yes, but his eyes were now different. The barrier that kept the idea of “daughter” and “sex” apart simply didn’t exist anymore. He felt adrift, caught by a whirlwind he couldn’t stop- one he didn’t want to stop. 

Victory. It looked like victory. Victory over herself, over her old fears. Victory over his attempts at doing the “right thing”. Further victory to come, as well. And it didn’t hurt that the cock that made her was a rather large one, veiny and beautiful. He tried to keep herself in check. She knew exactly what to do, which went against everything her body was screaming for her to do. No matter how much she needed to feel that cock deep inside her pussy, no matter how much she longed to taste his cum on her tongue, she would have to wait. She couldn’t risk some post nut clarity throwing further objections to her plan. She kept her mind on Kate as she licked, kissed, loved his member. She was alert, ready to stop before he went over the edge. She did let one hand slide between her legs- just a treat, and a bit of a show for Daddy. She took him deep in her throat, deeper than anyone she’d ever blown. He deserved it. He was her one true love. 

She did manage to stop herself when she felt him getting close, heard his moans getting stronger.

She stood up and simply, gently, gave his Daddy her soaked hand for him to smell. It was a promise of the pleasures to come… if he did as she asked, as she needed him to. She could see it in his eyes. He had been unleashed. Andrea smiled, and with a moan sucked her fingers clean, keeping her green eyes fixed on her Daddy’s gaze.

Punishment would finally come to the one that had wronged her.

IV - Melody of Madness

Slowly, Kate started to regain her consciousness. It was a gradual thing, messy, disoriented. The first thing she noticed was a scent- the kind of smell that tells one they’re no longer home, but in a place inhabited for years by some unknown Other. Her body felt heavy, sluggish, weighed down. She wasn’t afraid, not at that point. She was too out of it to register such an emotion.

Only when her vision cleared a bit and her body started to feel more like her own did the true horror begin. She tried to remain calm. Okay, Kate. Just… try to figure things out. You’re in a bedroom. A girl’s room, judging by the decor. Shit, did you get wasted again? Wait, no… a room, yes, but not a dorm room. Bigger than the dorms. Oh, fuck. Did I party in town? Did I black out and some random girl decided to help me?

A part of her screamed. Assuming that this was just another regrettable morning after too much liquor was only a pleasant delusion, and she knew it. As painful as it might be, she would have to face another possibility. What was the last thing she remembered? She was getting up, ready for class… then she was picking up her morning coffee… a bitter taste, more than usual, and then… nothing. 

Kate needed to get out. Wherever she was, it was not where she wanted to be, that much she knew. She’d have time to figure things out later. First, get out of bed, and then…

She couldn’t. She was bound to the bed by improvised ropes made of sheets. Her legs were open, held in place. She noticed the way the air felt on her skin. She was in her underwear. This final fact froze her for half a minute- thirty seconds that felt like an eternity. 

Finally, she screamed.

“Shut the fuck up, or things will get very, very messy for you. And I don’t want to ruin my sheets, thank you very much.”

The voice was calm. Cold, yet expressing a hint of anticipation. And it was a voice Kate would never have expected to hear in that place, not in a million years.

“Andrea?”

“Oh, I’m ‘Andrea’ today? Are you sure you don’t mean to call me one of your usual nicknames? No ‘dyke’? No ‘carpet muncher’? No ‘cunt licker’? Isn’t it interesting, how something as simple as a little bit of metal and a few sheets are enough to teach you manners?”

Metal? Kate lifted her head as much as she could. There was Andrea, holding a knife. Shit. Shit. Shit. That little, insignificant bitch! And what was it with the outfit? Black lingerie, full face of make-up, devilishly sharp stiletto heels… Kate had never seen the stupid dyke looking anything like a real woman. Huh. So she had curves hidden under her usual baggy hoodies. Good for her. But she was still a fucking loser, and Kate knew how to handle losers.

“What the fuck are you doing, you crazy bitch? Let me go, now! What the hell are you thinking? People will hear…”

“Oh, don’t make a sound. I don’t want my father to…”

“Really? You brought me to your own home? You really are that stupid, huh? Let’s see what your dad thinks of his dyke daughter when she sees what you’ve done! Help! Sir, please! In your daughter’s room!”

Steps stomping outside. A man entered the room. Finally. Victory! Now the crazy dyke would get what was coming to her, and Kate would have a brand new story to bury the little cunt’s reputation even further. Maybe even hold the possibility of jail over her head.

“Andrea! What the hell is this? What are you doing?”, the man said, suitably shocked.

“Daddy! I’m so sorry! I… I just…”

“Didn’t I tell you to let me know as soon as she woke up?”

“You did. Sorry, Daddy. I’ve been a naughty little girl… will you punish me later?”

“Later, yes. Now we have work to do, don’t we, baby girl?”

“Yes we do, Daddy!” she chirped before giving in to a long, deep kiss with the man.

What. The. Fuck.

“Oh, I’m sorry!”, laughed Andrea. “Did you think he would help you? Kate, Kate… Ignorant as always. For one, I’m not a dyke, I’m bi- not that you care, but I figured a little education can’t hurt. And another thing about me: I have the bestest Daddy in the whole world! And my Daddy would do anything for me, because I’m his perfect, slutty good girl… and he’s very, very good at training good girls! Well, maybe ‘training’ isn’t the right word. How about… ‘breaking’? You know, like a horse! And we’ll make you such a good, good girl!”

Panic set in.

“Crazy! You’re both fucking crazy!”

Kate squirmed, a scream dying in her throat as Andrea crawled on the bed, swaying like a terrible feline, giving her dad a marvelous show. She lightly touched the inside of Kate’s thighs as she made her way up… before flashing the knife in front of the poor captive’s eyes.

“If I were you”, cooed Andrea, “I’d be very, very still for this part.”

Kated hated that her body seemed to instinctively do as the fucking dyke told. She froze, every muscle locked tight. She closed her eyes, and prayed to no deity in particular. Please. Please. Make it stop.

Kate shuddered as she felt something cold barely grazing her, almost between her legs. Terrible images flashed inside her mind. I might die here. A second later, she felt air caressing her private areas. She opened her eyes, only to see Andrea’s mad smile as she held the remains of Kate’s panties in her hand, skillfully cut off her body. 

“Not the sexiest of panties, I must say. I’m a bit disappointed! But…” Andrea brought the panties to her nose and took a deep, gratifying sniff. “There’s something alluring there. Oh! You’ve never had the pleasure of smelling a nice cunt, have you? No, you’re so very, very straight… you’d never do that, right? Well, you’ve been missing out. Time to fix that.”

Andrea carefully, almost lovingly, tied the panties around Kate’s face. Every breath now was an assault, a reminder of how powerless she was. A humiliation.

“Better get used to it, you stuck-up slut. You’ll be tasting the real thing soon enough. But…” Andrea leaped off the bound body of her foe. “What am I thinking? You’re straight! So, I take it you’d enjoy a big, hard cock more than my… dyke attentions, won’t you? Well, how about some Daddy cock? Won’t you love that? I know you will.”

Andrea skipped, child-like to her father. He was watching the scene before him, almost panting. A beast ready to be unleashed.

“Look!” chirped Andrea. “He’s so, so hard for you already! You should be flattered! Well, no point delaying the inevitable, I say. Ready to feel this big cock ramming into that tight pussy, you bitch?”

“No… no, please, don’t… I’ll… I’m sorry for… for everything! Please, please, please…”

“A little late for that, you evil cunt! Now get ready to be used like the fucking cumrag you are!”

Kate tensed up and shut her eyes hard enough to make them hurt. She braced herself for pain, for agony. She tried to somehow make her mind escape somewhere, anywhere else. Wasn’t that something that happened in these situations? Some sort of protective dissociation? And yet her mind was nailed in place, as stuck to the bed as her body. She waited, shaking… and nothing happened.

“How rude of me!”, mocked Andrea. “I almost made my daddy take that pussy dry! That would hurt a lot! I could help with that situation, you know… but you’re not a filthy pervert like me, that likes cock and pussy alike… so… I have to say, I’m a bit conflicted! Wouldn’t want to make you a dyke against your will! But you can choose. Dry or dyke? Huh? Too shy to speak now, you cunt? Answer me! Dyke. Or. Dry.”

Kate couldn’t believe her ears. An image of the knife flashed in her mind. Fear took hold. Feel of pain, primal, deep. The promise of less pain seemed like an imperative, and her mouth spoke before she could stop it.

“Dyke…” she mumbled.

“Sorry? I couldn’t quite hear that”, saud Andrea.

“Dyke! Dyke! Dyke, goddamn you!”

“She’s out! She’s loud! She’s proud! Welcome to the club, sister! Now relax and let me introduce you to a brand new world…”

It felt gross. It felt odd. Kate tried to reframe it. It’s just lubrication. It’s just making it easier for later. It means nothing. It’s just a tongue. It’s just…

Andrea was good. Extremely so. She took pride in her oral skills and was using all her talents, all her tricks on Kate. Not because she wanted the little bitch to feel good: simply because she knew that pleasure would make her suffer as much as the pain to come. Every involuntary thrust of Kate’s hips, every muffled moan that escaped her lips was a step towards conquest… and Andrea felt like a warlord, like a terrible goddess exacting just revenge…

“Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” she giggled. “But we can’t have you cumming like that… not when dear Daddy has been so, so patient!”

Fear crept from beneath the disgust Kate felt with herself. A part of her had enjoyed it, and she hated herself for it. Her body was starting to betray her, and that, more than anything, was terrifying. But now the pain would come. She knew that for a fact.

“Daddy, my sweet, sweet Daddy… break the cunt”, said Andrea.

“Please… don’t…” managed to mutter Kate.

It was in vain.

It did hurt. The man was a beast, savage, thrusting into Kate without the slightest care for her pleasure or comfort, using her body like an object to take out all his messed up frustrations, his fantasies, whatever was mixed up in the storm inside his brain. Kate whimpered and yelped and tried not to scream. And in her ear, a warm breath, whispering to her constantly.

“Good girl… won’t you cry for me? Like you made me cry so many times? You fucking slut… don’t fight it… you know what you are, deep down… don’t you miss my sweet tongue on your cunt? Relax… let it happen… you deserve this… and I’ve earned it… your pain… and what you will be for me later… when the pain is gone…”

Part of her mind was aware enough to realize Andrea was rubbing herself right beside her. But most of her mind was focused on the sensation between her legs, the burning, the feeling she was being torn apart… and something worse, slowly creeping its way into the strange mixture assaulting her consciousness. Andrea saw it immediately.

“It’s better now, isn’t it? You can feel it… it’s okay. You don’t have to lie. Not to me. We are sisters now, after all. I, made by the cock that is remaking you! It’s so… poetic, isn’t it? You are a slut. You’ve always been a slut, deep down… all you needed was someone to prove to you that a slut is all you need to be. All you deserve to be. No more queen bee at college for you! And I know you will be such a good little girl for Daddy…”

“Fuck… fuck you…”

“Oh, you’ll get to do that too! Want a taste?”

Andrea started slowly, kissing Kate’s neck, nibbling it, giving her victim goosebumps. Then she delicately removed her bra, and lips met sensitive skin. Kate’s nipples, hard against her will, were assaulted by kisses, suction, skillful licks. Andrea toyed with Kate, varying the pressure, the speed of her tongue, inserting playful little bites into the game. Measuring. Learning. Deciphering every preference, every weak point. To Kate’s horror, the pain was starting to feel duller, as if coming from far away. The pleasure, on the other hand, was sharper, demanding, a hungry thing coming from her own traitorous body. It was hard to think. Hard to keep any single idea in frame inside her mind. Too many stimuli, coming from too many places, attacking different parts of her idea of self. She felt as if she was drowning in sensation.

Andrea made her way down, slowly, as her father’s thrusts became a bit slower. Stamina wasn’t infinite, but she was quite confident that together they could get the job done. Together, they could do anything. It took a bit of careful positioning, but soon the tip of her tongue was able to tease the little cunt’s clit and even give her dear Daddy a little extra lick when he pulled his beautiful cock out, only to ram it into Kate again. Oh, if only this moment could last forever. Father and daughter locked eyes for a moment, in something that felt like a twisted perversion of love. It was time to move on to the next step.

Kate couldn’t stop squirming. Couldn’t stop moaning. Couldn’t stop her fucking body from reacting to the big cock inside her, the tongue playing her pussy like a violin, her own shame turned into a corruption of pleasure, disgust with herself that swirled and shifted and somehow enhanced the feelings that were eroding her sanity. And then, it snuck up on her.

Kate came, harder than ever in her life. Any pretense was undone at that moment. Her body was too honest. But the fucked up father and daughter team didn’t stop. No, they paused for only a second or two before resuming their work. It was too much. Kate shook as she came again. And again. And again.

She was exhausted. Too exhausted to fight anymore. Too confused to protest anything Andrea said. Her words just permeated, unfiltered, into Kate’s mind.

“...tell you? You can be such a good little whore… and we can be Daddy’s sluts together! Don’t you think he deserves it? His cock made you cum so much… your pain gave it so much pleasure… it owns you now. And you’ll love it, I know you will. We’ll make you love it so, so much, until you forget what a fucking bitch you were before…”

Kate didn’t even notice when the restraints were removed. There were stronger ones in place now, and she could feel them. Inside her head. She had been defeated. She had been conquered. She had surrendered.

“On all fours”, Daddy said. He didn’t have to say it twice. Kate complied. 

“Word on campus is that your little ass is the one hole you’ve been saving up for someone special! Well, I say you’ve met someone very special! So now Daddy will take the last bit of you and you’ll finally be entirely his! Isn’t that exciting? But… what about your poor fellow slut? I mean, I gave you pleasure too! I say I deserve a treat. So… you get pain for Daddy and he gets to watch you eat a pussy for the first time! What a show it will be! And we’ll make it a show, won’t we, sis?”

Yes. Whatever Andrea said. It was easier to comply. Easier to obey. Easier to just accept. It would hurt. Good. If her pain was what they wanted, they would have it. She would have sex with another girl. Good. If they wanted her to dyke out, she would. 

Kate’s screams sent vibrations through Andrea’s pussy, only making Kate’s inexperienced attempts at eating her out so much more delicious. Andrea felt like a queen, being serviced as she deserved. Mike was a beast, finally letting out something that had been suppressed in shame for far too long. Kate let her body take over, turning even pain into something else, something like purpose, or atonement. In a single day, all three had changed. Forever.

The tight, virgin ass, paired with the spectacle of this girl pleasuring his sweet little girl sent Mike over the edge. He barely managed to pull out before cumming with an intensity that shocked even himself. Kate’s back was soaked, and some drops had even landed on his own daughter’s breasts. 

Andrea licked her lips.

“Kate… sis… why don’t we clean each other up for Daddy?”

V - Epilogue

Mike woke up to the sensation of tongues on his cock, as was the norm. He let himself relax and sink into pleasure. To think that half a year ago, the idea of even looking at his daughter had felt revolting! How silly he had been. They loved each other. They made each other their best versions of themselves. Their most perverted versions. 

And Kate… how lovely it had all been. Sure, it had taken a little while for her to fully enter the family, but now she and her adoptive sister were inseparable. They went shopping for slutty outfits, they did their camshows together to make Daddy money… they had even made out in front of the Dean when they announced they were dropping out of college to be full-time whores. It was tender, in a way. Kate’s addiction to pain and humiliation had come as a bit of a surprise, but a welcome one- especially by Andrea, who had started to explore her sadistic side more and more.

Of course, they both adored Daddy. They were always ready, always willing to please him. After far too many years of gray, dull effort and solitude, Mike felt happy. He let himself enjoy that fact.

After he came, the girls licked each other clean, moaning as they savored their Daddy’s cum. With bright smiles, they leaped on the bed with Mike.

“Good morning, Daddy!” they said in unison.

Did you enjoy this story? You can get access to the full library and support my work at patreon.com/prettynosferatu

Every bit helps!

[cranberryjuice-posts]

-it was a mistake I swear-

Pairings - clarisse x Fem! Reader (any godly parent can work just reader is friends with Chris Rodriguez)

An: Any godly parent can work - this is based off of like Ellie and Dina and their kiss at the party + Ellie’s friendship w Jesse

Tw - slur dyke is used, Clarisse low key is out of character 😢🙏

“Fuck—“ the daughter of ares groaned as she got up and walked to the door opening it still in her sweats and sports bra.. standing outside the cabin door was her brother mark who was holding a plate of a traditional breakfast with her water bottle in another. “Mornin sleeping beauty” he joked but clarisse however wasnt in the mood and just walked away.

He followed clarisse inside and shut the door, after handing clarisse the food mark sat across from his sister on a different bed.

Clarisse started to eat almost choking when she saw it was 12pm, more then half the day wasted. She started to drink some water in hopes of clearing her throat out.

“So” mark looked over from where he was laying, “I heard you had an intresting night last night” Clarisse paused but shook her head.

“No.. no it was just y/n being y/n she kissed me an—“

Mark sat up shocked and looked over at his sister. “I was talking about your fight with James you kissed y/n?” Clarisse paused and looked down speaking in a flat tone. “Oh.”

—

At the same time only a few hours earlier you sat on your bunk going through your shirts while Chris confronted you.

“You kissed clarisse?” He asked and you sighed setting a camp shirt down.

“Shit, im sorry i know you liked her but I just— fuck this is awkward” you held your head down in embarrassment but Chris just laughed. “Dude chill, I don’t care you two are cute together now can you get dressed so we can go start training”

You groaned and rolled your eyes. “Your the worst” You reached to open your trunk but he slammed it down. “It’s still fucked up you did that though” he added, you shoved him back and grabbed a random shirt throwing it on.

The entire morning you heard whispers from around the camp about your kiss last night and you just wanted to curl up in a hole and die.

After a few campers approach you wanting to know the real details about what happened you lost it.

—

Clarisse soon joined the camp, however when some kids approached her about last night they were face first in the dirt after she shoved them.

A couple hours passed. Clarisse spent Marjory of the afternoon trying to find you, eventually she heard you were in the arena with some younger new kids most likely demigods who hadn’t been claimed yet.

She looked around before finding you, Clarisse kept her tough exterior up still conscious of the other campers around… “swing your sword like this” you instructed swinging your body a certain way when you felt a pair of hands grab your hips.

You turned around and saw clarisse standing behind you. “Move your body more like this focus the movement out and away from yourself”

she turned you some, her tone was a more authoritative yet calm one with a neutral face. You blushed as she let go, turning to face her you tucked some loose hair behind your ear.

The young demigods infront of you got the hint and walked to a different area of the arena.. there was some silence before both you and clarisse went to talk at the same time. You chuckled quietly as clarisse shifted awkwardly.

“Look im sorry about last Night”

“It’s Fine lise, Actually i wanted to apologize“ You admitted and leaned against the wall.

“Why.”

“Well i mean i was a Little high and there was so many people around I shouldn’t of kissed you I—”

“no no it’s fine you were just trying to cheer me up”

“I know but still-“

“It’s all good im not Reading into it or anything” clarisse crossed her arms and looked down.

Much to her suprised she saw your face with a playful look on it. “You know what I love about you.. you always let me finish my sentence” you smiled at her and tucked a curl away from her face. “Wanna help me train these new kids?”

“I’d rather kill over”

“Sure” you joked while walking away back towards the kids, Clarisse couldn’t help but watch as you left with a light smile.

————

(This is supposed to be a flashback like how it was in the game 😭😭)

Clarisse stood near her cabin pouting though she wouldn’t admit it. Her siblings majorty had either gone back to the cabin or were around the fire partying with the other camera. Clarisse thought it was dumb that the entire camp was celebrating the Hephaestus cabins win in the summer games when the ares cabin should of won.

Looking down clarisse didn’t notice you walking over. “So, how’s the pouting session going hm?” You leaned on the railing of the ares cabin porch beside clarisse.

“I’m not pouting”

“Mmm yes You are”

Clarisse rolled her eyes at your comment. “What do You want” she complained. “Well I’d really like to hangout with the girl who told me she was gonna show me a good time after she won the war games”

She scoffed. “Does it look like i fucking won” You however laughed. “Nah you look like your pouting” before clarisse could respond You grabbed her hand and lead her towards the campfire.

Placing her hands on your hips and wrapping your arms around clarisses neck you started to dance with her while some song played in the muffled distance. The two started to slowly sway.

“Well” You dramatically sighed. “Since your not in a bad mood I guess I can’t offer you anything to feel better” Clarisse raised an eyebrow wanting to know what you were getting at. “Oh yeah? And what was that”

You shook your head, moving one of your hands seat from clarisses neck you started to play with one of her curls. “You Just Said you weren’t pouting so I can’t tell you.. unless of course you were lying” you gave her a Cheshire Cat smile. She gave you an intimidating look but eventually broke character. “Fine I was pouting”

“Really?! Oh you poor baby”

“Don’t be a bitch about it”

You laughed quietly, sighing you placed your hand back around clarisses neck and just smiled at her. Clarisse rolled her eyes at your antics. “You know there all staring at you” she whispered.

“Maybe their staring at you” you whispered back admiring the girls face “or maybe their jealous”, but she just shook her head. “Nothing to be jealous of, I’m just a girl”

You moved a hand from her neck to cheek. “Clarisse, your so much more than that” you gently rubbed her cheek before leaning in and kissing her.

Clarisse gasped but quickly kissed back squeezing your waist in response. The kiss however was short when James walked past shoving his shoulder into clarisses.

She looked back pissed off. “Excuse you” she grabbed his shoulder and turned him.. james was some unclaimed kid that no one could careless about. He just scoffed. “This is a whole camp event keep the PDA to a minimum”

You rolled your eyes. “Sorry.. sorry!” You whined and grabbed clarisses Hand to lead her away. James shifted his stance. “Remeber there’s younger campers around”

“Yeah like your Setting such a Great example” You rolled your eyes.

“Great what this camp needs.. another loud mouth dyke” you felt clarisse stop walking and watched as she turned around.. you put a hand on her chest to stop her but she didn’t care. “The fuck did you just say!”

“Clarisse”

Clarisse shoved james back, before an actually fight could break out Chiron had stepped in.. multiple campers crowded around— out of embarrassment you just left. The daughter of ares eventually calmed before she had noticed you were gone.

She stormed back to her cabin, slumping down in her bed and mentally complaining wondering if she fucked everything up.

[witchpassing]

interview_3aC

I got into piloting during the Third Generation. For the historically illiterate, that’s before the breakpoint, not after. Summer Offensive, Chelsk Offensive, ‘81, ‘82… All that shit.

When you say pilot now, people get a certain mental image. It wasn’t like that, back then; end of the day, a G3 frame is basically just another kind of tank. Hot like hell inside and full analogue control. You had to think five, six, seven seconds ahead sometimes, because that’s how long it’d take you to string together the inputs for what you were doing next.

I was good. I mean, I’m good at my job now, sure, but… you should’ve fuckin’ seen me then.

... Anyway. Long and short of it is, I got unlucky. Everyone does, sooner or later. Coterie railcannon caved in part of my cockpit, crushed my leg to dogmeat, and that was that. A few years later, they’d have amputated, plugged in a spare, and sent me back in, but this was ‘83, the tech wasn’t there yet. We were hearing about it, you know, shit on the grapevine about the brain-machine barrier, weird tests underground out in Lysk, but I don’t think any of us really believed in it.

I wanna say I knew what was coming, but I didn’t. Nobody did.

So. Cockpit breach. Fucked leg. They did a lot of work, got it to where I could walk on a good day, but it was obvious I wasn’t gonna cut it any more. Took my pension, checked out, spent eight years in the worst dyke bars I could find. Don’t really wanna talk about that part. That’s not what you’re here for, anyway.

So I’m a few years down the line, losing my mind somewhere in Sengrade, and I get a call. It’s this guy I used to know, I never really nailed down what he did, Information maybe, and he’s telling me about this program they’re spinning up over in Lysk, and sure that rings some alarm bells but what am I gonna do, say no? I don’t even need to hear the specifics, he’s trying to tell me it’s the next big jump in frame tech, it’s gonna win us the war, whatever, I’m already halfway onto a train.

The job turned out to be the Fifth Generation. Not only was the brain-machine barrier real, but they’d smashed clean through it. I said a G3 is basically a tank, right? So I was expecting an iteration on the form. Sharper, sleeker sure, but at the end of the day just a prettier-looking tank.

Well, I was dead fuckin’ wrong. Seeing something that size move that way, it’s… I don’t think I can put it into words. Go find a poet or something. Ask them what they think about Gen 5.

… Didn’t come for free, of course. The neural throughput on a machine that size will cook an unprepared brain like a fuckin’ egg. You need to be dosed to the gills on a whole cocktail of ten-syllable shit to take it for more than a few minutes, and the drugs make you weird. Horny, mostly - I’m sure you’ve heard about that - but you’re also looking at impaired impulse control, difficulty with long-term thinking, emotional disregulation, mania… Plus, there’s something in the cocktail or the link or both that is bastard habit-forming. You see them counting the hours between sorties. They adjust to the hyperstimulation, get calibrated to it, and then everything else is just too god-damn quiet.

Think maybe it’s carcinogenic, actually, but you didn’t hear that from me.

So, yeah. Weird. Command doesn’t want weird operating superweaponry. Weird doesn’t make sound tactical decisions. Which means all the shit that makes somebody a functioning soldier - the long-term decision making, the impulse control, the ability to give a fuck about the rules of engagement - it had to be outsourced.

The term they used at first was “special consultant”. Then “special consulting officer”, once we hit field testing. It wasn’t “handler” until later.

The first crop of us - I’m just gonna say handlers, I know how you’re gonna wanna spin this, I get it - were all ex-pilots. G3, mostly; Gen 4 didn’t leave a lot of material to work with. I guess the idea was we were the closest you could get to a G5 candidate’s frame of reference, but it was pretty clear within the first few months that that was bullshit. Some of us took to it, some of us washed out. A lot couldn’t take the wetwork, which I guess I can sympathise with.

Me, I handled it fine. Better than I should’ve, maybe. Being a tanker didn’t do shit for me, but my dad, he was a dog trainer, and… Yeah, well, you get the idea.

… No, no. The other kind of wetwork. You know what I mean.

…

The leg? Ha. Yeah, they offered me a prosthetic. ‘Course they did. But, call me a hypocrite, whatever you want - by that point I was six months in and I knew with total fuckin’ certainty I didn’t want the link. I spend enough of my time helping the military put their shit into peoples’ bodies, you know? I don’t want it walking home with me.

… No, I don’t understand why they keep signing up. Early days, sure, nobody knew what it did to you back then, but there’s been leaks, people’ve talked - hell, I’m talking right now. You can find our burnouts in any dive in the country, or what's fuckin' left of them. The candidates now, they know what we do to people here, and they just keep coming, and coming…

Though, you know… I think sometimes about the first time I saw a Gen 5 machine take off, that first day on the program. The way it moved against the blue-black of the sky, like it weighed nothing at all. And I almost get it.

[flagellant]

Why can't you people be normal about slurs for 2 seconds

Just because YOU reclaimed and identify with something doesn't mean everyone else does. No one cares about you IDing as a queer or dyke or fag or whatever, people just don't want strangers to randomly assign them words that have historically been used as slurs.

Like, do you understand that people have had this word used against them by bigots? Do you understand that maybe, it's tasteless to get upset at people for having trauma regarding a word? Are you able to comprehend that maybe insisting people be okay with being called a word that means odd, spoiled, ruined or weird is not a good look?

I'm autistic and have a severe learning disability. I'm totally fine when people use the word retard, I call myself a retard, I don't care. But I'm sure as fuck not going to walk up to a bunch of other autistic people I barely know and go "lmao what is up my fellow tards!!!"

I'm not trying to start shit, I'm legitimately trying to understand why you find it appropriate to make fun of people, often victims of abuse or hate crimes, for being triggered by a word.

"I'm legitimately trying to understand why you find it appropriate to make fun of people, often victims of abuse or hate crimes, for being triggered by a word."

Gay is a slur. Lesbian is a slur. Homosexual is a slur. Every single word we have ever had has always either had its roots in cruelty and oppression or has been used against us by our oppressors. There is no term that is pure and clean and innocent and has never hurt anyone's feelings.

Let's disregard fag for now. That one's still in the process of reclamation, I'll admit. Let's just talk about queer. Queer has been the academic term for non-cisgender and non-heterosexual history for half a century now. Queer theory has been around for thirty years. Queer was the word which we shouted as a radical inditement of our treatment by our oppressors: "We're here, we're queer, get over it" and "Not gay as in happy but queer as in fuck you" should both sound familiar to you.

And now it's 2012 or so and queer is known as the most inclusive term we have. It's less unwieldy than LGBTQIAAP+. It's not based in a necessity of defining yourself through your oppression like MOGAI. It's, important, a deeply private word. Not in the sense that it is used privately, but rather than it grants its user privacy. If you're queer, everyone instantly knows you're a part of the community, but you aren't being forced to out yourself or give more details about your personal life and identity than you want. It was always a word about identity.

TERFs hate this. TERFs hate this so much, because it's inclusive of people they hate, like asexual people, trans women, and other freaks of nature who society needs to put down like dogs. Queer means TERFs can't as easily define you as the Bad Other. Queer means TERFs will be recognized more easily as bigoted towards the larger queer communities. So, obviously, they do what anyone would, and decide to take advantage of the language of social justice warriors of the time and attack impressionable young kids from 13-16.

The average 13-16 year old doesn't exactly have much experience in real-life queer spaces. They don't get to go to rallies or protests, they don't stay at community centers, their lives are insular and based entirely online. Their understanding of social politics is inherently rooted in the importance of posting in the right language. Their activism is one which tweets correctly. So TERFs slid into their inboxes and went "Hey, just so you know, queer is actually a slur used to oppress people and it's problematic to use since some people have been called it".

And this works, because of course it does, and now I have people like you in my inbox bitching and whining about how queer is a slur and how you've been called queer once or twice in your life. To this I say: My apologies, but fucking suck it up and reclaim it. I don't care about traumatic events you have with queer. It has been reclaimed by the greater community and was done so long before you were born if you aren't literally 50, and more importantly, by giving queer validation as a slur, you actively give our oppressors that power over you. I'm not going to let my oppressors know that if they say an identifier for us meanly enough then we'll stop identifying as that word. I'm not giving the power to silence and repress who we are to people who would use it.

Anon, I respect you enough to say that people who consider my identity as a slur should get punched in the face, because alt-right fash cunts, pig cops, evangelical christians, TERFs, and hyperconservative political lobbyists all consider my identity as a slur. Why should I treat you any different to them? What about your specific treatment of queer as a slur ends up with a meaningfully different result? The neonazis on kiwifarms won't care why you're telling me to shut the fuck up about queer. They don't give a shit about why you're saying this. What they give a shit about is if it works and if calling people queer will get them to shut up and curl up in a little ball and admit defeat and hand them slurs on a silver platter. And I'm not about to live that sort of life, so either get with the program or fuck off.

[bitterkarella]

Identifying furries by their fursonas

Fox- this is the default fursona for the default furry, namely a twink with a blown out fucked to death asshole

Vixen- Girl fox referred to as a vixen is an egg, girl fox just referred to as a fox is an out trans woman

Kistune - the same as above but weeb flavor

he-wolf - a greasy guy who weighs 12 pounds soaking wet and wears a fedora. republican.

she-wolf - the butchest bull dyke you ever saw

coyote - manic depressive. always on something. the drug connection at any furry party

Cat- always a woman

black cat - could be any gender but always goth

kitten/kitty - a trans sex worker, has an only fans they really want you to know about.

bobcat - older dude. wants people to think he's ex-military

Jaguar - an older black guy. will probably have the word "black" in his fursona's name

lion - just a huge asshole

tiger - another asshole. old. wants you to believe he's ex military or ex-police, probably a member of the dorsai irregulars. major grill dad vibes

jackal - a huge asshole and a slut. white gay racist, probably transphobic

cougar - either a trans woman or a terf. there's no in between

Horse - white woman who identifies as 2 Spirit or a guy who wants to be stomped on

Pony - gay nazi

unicorn - either the absolute gayest dude you can be or a 9 year old girl. sometimes a late in life transition

Tanuki - latino

badger - either a huge lesbian or an old avuncular straight guy. possible sex pest

Raccoon - nature's greatest mistake. too normie to be furry, too furry to be normie. dilf.

bat - either a goth or a real annoying shit (some overlap). invader zim fanboy. doesn't drink alcohol but claims to act crazy on "sugar highs." definitely has dabbled in webcomics

cow - a woman. maternal. mom friend or mommy dom. milf. possibly trans femme

steer - a big strong fat rough trade gay guy

sheep - mom vibes

pretty much any farm animal - mom vibes

domestic pig - wild card. might be a wet and messy fetish thing tho or a trash eating thing. loves to be stinky. loves to talk about being stinky.

wild pig - trans masc

skunk - either a fat beardy guy who has a tumblr blog about animation squash & stretch or a stoner gal. very straight. the straightest. a kinsey 0. has strong feelings about what the fandom used to be like before there were all these kids in it.

rat - is a huge asshole as a front, probably likes talking cigars

lemur - autistic

sloth - 420 blaze it. will never finish any commissions

chakat - an older cishet man who thinks the fandom is too political & refers to "anime" as "japanimation"

sergel - nazi

citra - the biggest dipshit you've ever met

procyon - furry equivalent of the thomas jefferson miku binder pic. you should not be talking to this person, this is a literal child

weasel - a girl with cluster b personality disorders

ferret - a person who has at least one pet ferret, but probably many

mole - this person thinks they're in a beatrix potter story

guinea pig/chinchilla/jerboa/gerbil/any kind of fat rodent you can keep as a pet - the sweetest person you will ever meet

armadillo/pangolin/anteater/aardvark - smug, contrarian. "i just wanna be different"

mouse - vore fetishist, prey. sub.

hyena - vore fetishist, pred. probably trans masc

otter - a dommy twink, possible enby

bear - gay

panda - absolutely a white person pretending to be asian. probably running a gofund me scam with a suspicious story about how they're a professional nintendo gamer who injured their hand or something

bullfrog - a huge fat hairy straight guy

any other frog - inflation or rubber fetishist

axolotl/newt/salamander - genderfluid enby

rabbit - trad wife trans woman

squirrel - autistic and gay

deer - gay

gazelle - zootopia megafan

monkey - punk DIY artist type, definitely loves weed

ape - absolutely baffling. nothing this person does or says makes any sense. you will be left wondering whether you're speaking to a child, a person with severe mental issues, or someone who doesn't have english as a first language

elephant - mom friend

hippo - a fat fetishist or a transformation fetishist

rhino - an older cishet dude who wants to project a curmudgeonly yet approachable aura

kangaroo - definitely not an australian person. extremely focused kinkster, usually feet or inflation. more STDs than should be possible to carry

koala - an asian woman

virginia opossum - anarchist/communist punk trans man who makes zines and/or comics

australian possum - just here to have fun. wants everyone else to be having fun too. wacky funster. (sugar gliders and flying squirrels fall under this category)

any other marsupial - poser

monotremes - extreme poser, don't even bother

doberman- gay dude who tops from the bottom or a cop (there is some overlap)

german shepherd - a nazi or a cop (there is substantial overlap). definitely a furry raider. he will wear his cop uniform to con and after con will post videos pretending that someone was rude to him

afghan - arch femme

basset hound - racist

puppy - sub, probably an egg. extremely draining. cries a lot

all other dogs - just dudes being bros (gender neutral)

dragon - the furries of furries. like to talk about eating "sammiches" and "chocklit." probably an adult baby lifestyler. they will send DMs that just say "hi." they like to RP and when they contact you about a potential commission they are actually just trying to trick you into RP

griffin - the same as above but also a brony

snake - sissy hypno fetishist

turtle - an old man, probably southern. an ironic grandpa.

other scalies - furry in denial. either a child or an old person from CYD. the world's last something awful goons

any fursona with latino vibes - white

any fursona with asian vibes - latino

any fursona with native american vibes - eastern european

avian - girl who's not like other girls. hippie. vegan.

raven/crow - agender voidgoth

chicken - mom vibes

dinosaur - the absolute biggest nerd. probably has an actual degree in paleontology. definitely dresses like miss frizzle.

any invertebrate - not a real furry, their girlfriend just made them get a furaffinity account before they could get ass. either that or they've never even heard of furry, they just came up with the idea of anthropomorphics from first principles. a biology teacher or weirdo (there is some overlap)

amoeba - this is a troll

[drdemonprince]

Omg 25 yr old late bloomer dyke from a good while back (smoked again -_-) but the fates conspired n I had a little hookup with a 30 yr old woman after 6 months of not so much as kissing someone and it was kinda awkward n stumbling but sweet and 👀 at one point I asked if there was anything she was rlly into or wanted to do and she’s like .. to be real with u I’m super into feet and idk like ate em out ig and as someone who’s repressed n has trouble easing into / expressing eroticism to watch someone who’s so clearlyyy and shamelessly into some part of me and what they’re doing … to me … bark. N u know what, as someone who’s stone when it comes 2 my junk but still loves to receive now & then, it’s rlly nice to both discover a new errogenous zone and see someone psyched as hell abt it rather than considering it a sub tier alternative to Hole ig. Was that too much. Haha and she gave me a teeny tiny figurine from out an altoid tin in her coat pocket cuz she used to make giantess porn I love gay freaks she’s also a boot black and a puppy I’m wet 🙏 she feels like someone who has a tumblr hope she doesn’t see this anyways feel free to ignore just wanted to ramble somewhere 🫡

dog this is sick as hell. a horny ass lesbian foot freak who slobbered all over your shit and gave you a tiny figurine from her giantess rp fetish??? keep smoking whatever shit is making you this cool