#thick women online dating

[cranberryjuice-posts]

Abby Anderson modern day head-cannons

Parings - Abby Anderson if the apocalypse never happened

Tw- some nsfw at the end

An- this is both In general headcannons and relationships

Abbys father is a neurosurgeon so mans is loaded bro 😭- abby def went to one of those hella expensive private schools.

She’s kinda old and new money

So Abby can go three ways ok

The typical basic blonde IT girl

Straight girl on the weight lifting team

Muscular masculine lesbian

I think we all know which one makes the most sense.

Abby wouldn’t come out to her father about being a lesbian until like high school

I’m pretty sure her mom died in the beginning of the apocalypse but it could be safe to assume that she’s also a doctor in modern day

Abby would of gone to a really good university and become a neurosurgeon like her father

While in medical school she met Nora and Mel - they knew Owen and manny and that’s how the group all met

She would of definitely done sports - so sports Abby did would be

Weightlifting

Basketball

Ice hockey

She’ll go online and see the thirst edits and comments about her and laugh because she’s not only flattered but she’ll find multiple women who are her type and like their comments.

HEAVVVYYY against college parties like girly is a student athlete and on a scholarship for her medical degree — she’s always studying and doesn’t want to do anything to ruin her scholarship

After she gets her degree she works in a well known and high paying hospital

Got a German Shepard and named her Alice

Graduated top of her class

A big football fan and if her school has a football team she would go to every home game.

You and Abby most likely met in college.

you two met after both taking a same extracurricular.

she had to actually prep talk herself into actually going up to you and talking to you

once she actually asked you out she was freaking out over wether or not you actually liked her (she had Nora help her pick out an outfit)

after a few dates she awkwardly asked if she could be your girlfriend. You said yes of-course

At first you thought the relationship would be hard since Abby’s always busy but much to your surprise she always made time for you

After like a week together she took you to meet her parents, you were anxious as her parents were well known medical professionals but they welcomed you with open arms

Once she introduced you to the friend group you knew you were stuck with her.

Is overly protective of you- a guy hits on you she’s passive aggressively getting into his face. Some girls are starting drama with you - she’ll tell them to fuck off . A teacher is refusing to take your paper late - Abby will go have a one on one possibly bribe the teacher to take your paper.

If you did well on exams she’ll take you out to a nice resturant however if you did poor she’ll reassure you take you to a comfort food restaurant and help you study next time.

Outside Abby’s the sweetest most gentle person you’ve ever seen however in the bedroom it’s completely different

Abby is the type of woman to take her time devouring you. She would spend hours between your thighs with her tongue on your clit and her thick fingers pumping in and out of you painfully slow

She can either be soft and loving whispering sweet nothings into your ear taking her time with you compaired to when she lost an important game or is stressed out about exams she’ll fuck you like no tomorrow, denying you your orgasm and degrading you, with her thick strap deep into you

[jihyocentric]

today i offer you mohyo!

-

“why won’t you pick up the phone?!”

the scream of a question can be heard from sana’s room, and perhaps even the neighbors had heard it through the thick walls of their apartments. momo was rarely loud, which compensated for sana’s lack of quiet, but the constant buzzing and ringing of sana’s phone had been disturbing her through her movie, enough to make her snap.

it was even more rare for the device not to be on sana’s hand all the time, given sana’s need to be persistently online, yet the phone was left on a counter at the kitchen, far from sana and closer to momo.

“because it’s her!” sana screams as she answers back, huffing as she finished her makeup with way too much blush on her cheeks.

that night, sana had a date. it’s not like the date was meant for her to know more about the girl who had asked her out — the both of them had other intentions, clearly, which was why they’d meet up at a club. after breaking up with jihyo, sana has had quite a few dates, all of which ended up on only one thing, indicating that sana was still her same old self, as if jihyo was never even there.

looking back to when she was still with jihyo, sana really thought she’d eventually fall for her. jihyo was complicated — but sana found her to be lovable. she was the first girl who sana called ‘girlfriend’, all because, for some reason, she couldn’t just have a one night stand with her, and they kept repeating their first night together until eventually jihyo decided that sana was her girlfriend.

now, after no longer than two months of their breakup, with sana aware that jihyo knew, somehow, that she had a date, sana regrets not rejecting her. deeply so, flushed not only because of the excessive makeup on her cheeks, but because she was angry.

momo pauses her movie, grunting as she hears sana’s annoying ringtone for the nth time. “she’s calling again!”

“sanaaaaaaa.” jihyo cries, impatiently waiting for sana to answer her calls.

she had parked her car in front of sana’s building, a familiar place that jihyo was no longer allowed to enter. despite granting sana’s wish of sending jihyo away and forbidding jihyo of paying sana a ‘visit’, the doorman still pitied the young girl, pretending he didn’t see her car parked where it wasn’t supposed to.

jihyo had been crying since morning. it became routine after sana left her — jihyo woke up, thought about sana, wondered why her girlfriend had been acting so mean, and wept until she found enough comfort to go on with her day, pretending to everybody, including her own friends, that she and sana had never broken up.

jihyo couldn’t understand why sana had left her. part of the reason why that happened was the idealization she had of sana's love for her, which was fueled by sana, who even told jihyo nobody had ever made her feel what jihyo made her feel. sana wasn’t lying then, her feelings for jihyo were genuine, and they might have evolved into something stronger if only they were meant to be. that wasn’t the case, and while jihyo fell harder, sana kept losing her interest on her.

the rejection was unbearable. truly so, to the point jihyo rejected being rejected. sana definitely didn’t mean all the things she had been saying to jihyo lately, and she certainly didn’t mean to break up with her. they were perfect together, the campus’ perfect couple. it didn’t matter if their relationship had only lasted a little over six months and that sana had been going out with other women. she is just confused, jihyo believed. sana would go back to her.

jihyo anxiously moves one of her legs, putting weight on her knee, the leg bobbing incessantly as she waited. for a period of time, jihyo has her forehead against the wheel of her car, breathing slowly as she tried to prevent the tears from coming, but the more she waited, the more heartbroken she was.

the buzzing of her phone stops, and jihyo is about to dial sana’s number again, but then there’s a voice coming through the speakers.

“if you don’t get this call, i’ll get it for you!” momo huffs, unusually annoyed.

“i don’t care!” sana shouts from her room.

sana did the extraordinary — she was starting to piss momo off. momo stands up, loudly threatening sana to tell her ex where she’d be for the night (or part of it), and sana takes perhaps too long to understand momo’s intent behind answering the call. her feet make a harsh sound as she rushes out of her room, and momo was about to take her phone when she appears in the kitchen.

“momo, no!” sana chastises.

“it’s been a whole hour of this! you could’ve muted it!” momo says, evidently upset.

“momo,” sana’s eyes widen. she tries to get her phone from momo’s hands, but momo turns around and sana ends up hugging her, still trying to snatch it from her roommate’s hands. “momo, you can’t pick this up! she’ll ruin my night, stop it!”

momo ignores sana’s pleas. “she ruined my movie!”

before sana can do anything to stop momo, her phone stops ringing and they hear a whimper. instant regret is what momo feels, because she wasn’t really trying to snitch on sana, but now she was on a call with her ex, and the girl was clearly crying from the sounds of it.

“hey, uh…” momo starts, trying to remember her name. she remembers sana used to call her ji, but that couldn’t be her full name, so momo resorts to another approach. “pretty girl.”

“sana?” jihyo rushes to pick her phone from the dashboard of the car, hands shaking. to her, the few words she’d heard had been nothing but a rhythmic pattern of sound. in her pitiful state, she couldn’t tell that the person wasn’t sana.

momo shakes her head, as if jihyo could see her. “momo. so, cutie, sana can’t answer the phone right now. she asked me to tell you that, uhh…”

sana panics, letting go of the tight hug to face momo, silently begging her not to tell jihyo where she was going. she was already trying to imagine how it would be to tell her date that they couldn’t go to their desired location because her crazy ex would follow her anywhere. perhaps sana would just have to cancel it at last minute, because she didn’t want to embarrass herself because of jihyo.

momo clears her throat. “s-she… she’s sick!” she bursts out with the affirmation. “she’s resting in bed, so she can’t talk to you.”

“really?” jihyo sniffs. she has her arms crossed, eyes red and puffy from crying, disappointed because she wouldn’t get to see sana. “it’s nothing serious, right? will she be okay?”

“it’s very contagious!” momo explains.

sana looks at her with a reprimanding face, not fond of where that conversation with her ex was going. at least she was free from jihyo. for that, sana was relieved.

“contagious?” jihyo pouts, her heart aching from imagining sana suffering in bed.

“oh, yes. very. but i’m taking care of her, so you shouldn’t worry. she will talk to you soon!” momo laughs when sana grimaces.

jihyo’s heart races. it had been too long since sana willingly spoke with her. “she… she will?”

“uhh, sure! hehe.” momo fakes out a laugh, knowing sana wanted to end her right there and then. “i have to go now.”

“okay.” jihyo sighs. “tell her i miss her. and… that i wish she recovers fast.”

“will do,” momo replies. “bye bye.”

sana steals her phone back as soon as momo hangs up, her breathing heavy from the slight fear of momo messing up built up in her stomach.

“you owe me one.” momo declares. “she will stop calling and she thinks you’re staying at home.”

“did you have to add that it was contagious?” sana asks, still mad at momo.

“i saved your night and that’s what you’re thinking about?” momo complains, walking away from sana. as she was already in the kitchen, it wouldn’t hurt to grab a snack to eat while watching her movie. “so ungrateful.”

it was time for jihyo to give up and leave. sana wouldn’t have her date and jihyo wouldn’t be able to talk to her, so there was no point in staying, waiting for nothing to happen.

no tears were left inside of her to keep crying, so jihyo spent a couple of minutes drying her face and reapplying her makeup, uncertain of where she’d be heading to now that sana was unavailable. meeting up with her friends was always an option — a way better one than returning to the loneliness of her own apartment.

jihyo checks her appearance through the rearview of her car. she still looked good, but it was evident that she had cried. the tear stains were quickly covered with powder, but her eyes remained puffy, and it would take a while for them to look normal again.

as she considers finding her friends and having a good time that night, jihyo notices someone familiar leaving the building in front of her.

“sana…” jihyo mutters.

it was her. sana, with her phone against her ear, wearing the jacket jihyo had failed to steal before they broke up. sana looked beautiful — she looked beautiful for another person, and she had just lied to her.

jihyo grabs her purse and the car keys, her heart pounding, both hurt and angry, making her way to sana before she got to call a cab or whatever the person she was calling was.

sana wants to evaporate the moment she sees jihyo in front of her. that was new — jihyo had been waiting outside, it seemed. not that it surprised sana that she would do something like that, but it was definitely not something she had expected to happen that particular night.

“i see you’re sick.” it’s the first thing jihyo says.

the tone of her voice is impolite and coated with rage, and sana considers running back inside and making momo fix the situation she had created. but sana didn’t owe jihyo anything, and so, she decides she won’t allow jihyo to really ruin her night.

“why are you here?” sana asks, coming out harsher than she’d ever been with jihyo. unfortunately, her date hadn’t picked up the call, so there was nothing sana could do to avoid speaking to jihyo.

the hostility seems to be enough to make jihyo lose her posture. it had always been easy, to make jihyo lose her bravado and look like nothing but a spoiled little girl who couldn’t bear to not have what she wanted. that’s how sana saw her, jihyo knows. sana wasn’t wrong, and jihyo also knew that, but she still wanted sana, even when it made her look like a fool.

“because you’re my girlfriend.” jihyo answers. “you can’t go on dates with others when you already have me.”

“i broke up with you, two months ago.” sana says, with her jaw locked. “if you follow me, i’ll make you regret. i’m so serious, jihyo, you’re…”

“why can’t you take me on a date instead?” jihyo suddenly asks, ignoring sana’s last comment. she didn’t mean that anyway, jihyo was sure. “these girls will never give you what i can give you. you will never love them, sana.”

“and i’ll never love you.” sana sighs, frustrated. “that’s why we broke up. i don’t love you. i never did and never will. i made it clear from the beginning that i wasn’t looking for that.”

jihyo shakes her head. “but you said you liked me, that the feeling was new to you. we were starting to…”

sana phone rings again, interrupting the younger girl in front of her. this time, sana wants to answer the call — because it wasn’t jihyo.

“forget what we had.” sana asks, too cold with her words. “leave me alone.”

when sana walks away, jihyo wants to run to her. her legs don’t move and sana is already entering another street when jihyo lets her words really sink in. they had hurt her more than hearing from sana that she wanted to break up with her, and still jihyo wanted sana.

it doesn’t take longer than another week of jihyo pretending they were still together for sana to decide that she wasn’t going to deal with her anymore.

“it’s worse to let her know i don’t care about her than blocking her.” sana explains to momo, unblocking jihyo on all of her social media accounts. “i have a plan. and you are helping me.”

“me? why?” momo suddenly pays attention to sana. she’d been barely listening to her, too busy cooking lunch for them to hear what sana had to say about her ex.

“because you picked up the phone last week and everything went wrong. you owe me something.” sana states. “so now you’re dealing with her. i’ll tell the doorman she can come any time she wants, but it’s you who’s going to talk to her. i won’t be here when she arrives.”

momo stirs the meat in the pan, considering stealing a piece for a small taste. “how would you know when she’s coming?”

“she always comes when she knows i’m going out. so i’ll leave earlier than i usually do, and because she will have access to the apartment, she’ll come here.” sana says, as if she had thought about it for long enough to have the details planned out. “all you have to do is keep her here for a while, that way she won’t follow me. if we keep doing that, maybe she’ll give up.”

“she didn’t follow you last week, though. maybe she’s starting to accept the breakup.” momo gives in and grabs a piece of meat, sneakily putting it in her mouth before sana can look away from the phone to focus on her.

sana sighs. “that’s only because we had a fight. she was upset, but she’s not anymore. it’s like a loop. she keeps coming back even when i hurt her.”

“so you’ll have a date outside and i’ll have a date inside,” momo jokes, accepting her own fate. “does she like video games?”

sana raises an eyebrow at momo’s mention of her having a ‘date’ with her ex. “i never asked. she doesn’t seem like the type of girl who does.”

momo shrugs. “i’ll find something to do with her.”

jihyo feels like something is wrong the moment her entry in sana’s building isn’t denied. everything seemed odd from the moment sana was no longer blocking her on social media — jihyo should feel happy, because now she gets to see sana’s posts again, but it’s almost as if sana was putting an end to them for good, and jihyo just didn’t know how.

it’s nighttime when she gets there. it’s usually around that time that sana would go out. sana did it every week, unable to stay at home, as if her nights out were the only moments of genuine joy in her week. jihyo never understood that part of sana — her need to party, to meet new people, and her incapability of committing to someone instead of having one night stands.

if the obsession hadn’t corrupted her mind, jihyo would know that sana wasn’t the right person for her. they were nothing alike. what she has always wanted for her life was never what sana wished to have for hers. to have a stable relationship, to get married eventually and have kids when it was the right time.

and it’s not like jihyo wanted to keep getting hurt, but even when sana told her clearly that she’d never love her, something still made jihyo not give up, pulling her towards sana like a magnet — it was both hope that sana would magically realize that she loves her and that they’d be happy once that happened, and something else. something jihyo had yet to figure out.

it’s not sana who answers the door. it’s momo — jihyo remembers her name. sana’s roommate. she couldn’t tell, but momo was sweating, because she’d promised sana to keep jihyo inside for an hour, but now that she’s face to face with her, momo hardly know what to say or what to do with her.

“ji…” momo stops to think, attempting to remember her name once again. sana had said it a couple of times that day, and yet all momo could remember was the ‘ji’. “soo? jisoo?”

“jihyo.” she smiles, sweet. “can i talk to sana?”

it’s when jihyo crosses her arms, with a purse dangling from her elbow and faint pink on her cheeks, that momo notices she’s prettier than she’d expected. momo has seen her before, of course, but never that close, and she was never bothered enough about sana’s girlfriend to pay attention to her. that was sana’s girl, after all. there was no point, back then, to give her any special attention.

but jihyo wasn’t sana’s anymore, so momo was allowed to look at her the way she was unconsciously doing. ogling her from head to toe, licking her lips when she notices how short jihyo’s skirt was, sighing when she stops herself from staring at her any further, or else jihyo would think she was a creep and sana’s plan would go to ashes.

“come in, jihyo.” momo invites.

unaware of the fact that momo had just checked her out, jihyo steps inside, nervous because she believed sana was there.

if momo had any worries about not having what to do with jihyo, they were all gone as soon as jihyo turned around, with her arms still crossed, hands rubbing her own arms as if she was cold, giving momo an even better sight of her cleavage slightly squeezed by her arms.

momo had been the best friend sana could ask for, really. she deserved a treat, and there was an interesting way momo could help both sana and herself simultaneously.

“sana is out, jihyo,” momo announces after closing the door. that way, maybe jihyo wouldn’t find an excuse to leave so quickly. “but would you mind making me some company until she arrives?”

nothing about momo made jihyo want to refuse the request — nothing but her friend, sana, who probably had her hands inside a random girl’s pants by that time. jihyo considers leaving, but she had nothing to do at home. and then she considers staying, which sounded more reasonable to her than leaving after being there for half a minute.

“…it’s because i cook when i’m anxious. and when i’m happy. or sad. i cook a lot. but sana doesn’t eat at home often and i can’t eat it all by myself, so i give everything i make to the neighbors…”

jihyo listens attentively as momo shares a story with her, on her third glass of wine, seemingly forgetting about the fact that she would have to drive later. jihyo didn’t want to stay for too long, at first. she had stayed because she was far too polite not to, but she ends up having dinner with momo, and then she finds herself watching a movie and drinking with her, as if they were on a date.

“…but the granny from an apartment downstairs has a very jealous husband,” momo pouts as she speaks, making jihyo laugh, already imagining what was about to come. “he thought i was flirting with her because i kept giving them the desserts i made, but i only gave those to them because she is nice! he was so loud telling me to have respect for the elders that i think the entire floor heard him.” she whines. “that cheesecake was delicious! it was his loss, honestly.”

without even realizing, jihyo had forgotten about sana. momo did that effortlessly, being funny and flirty, giving her something sana had never given her. a proper date — even though jihyo didn’t see whatever that was as a date. they were only strangers who shared one thing in common.

sana. jihyo was there for sana, until she was there for momo’s stories, the relaxed voiced that came out hoarsely after a couple drinks, and the bold hand subtly touching her knee, without a mere announcement or request — momo was touching her, palming her warm skin that was bare from wearing a skirt, as if they weren’t just acquaintances.

“i can understand why he would think you were flirting with her,” jihyo laughs softly, leaving the nearly empty glass at the center table. “you are very flirty.”

momo smiles, the movie long forgotten as she sits facing jihyo. her hand never moves away. “you think so?”

jihyo nods slowly, cheeks flushed due to the alcohol. “are you flirting with me now?”

momo had noticed from the moment she saw her — jihyo’s eyes were big. they were the prettiest she had ever seen, sparkling brighter the more she laughed. at the back of momo’s head, where there weren’t any thoughts about moving her hand higher, she wondered how sana didn’t fall for jihyo, even after dating her for months. it had only been an hour and momo felt like she had. or perhaps she was blinded by a filthy need located everywhere but in her head, unable to think straight.

“maybe.” momo replies. “would you like that?”

jihyo watches, feels, as the hand moves, going under her skirt. “i…”

“i love this!”

it’s amusing — momo has a subtle smile on her lips, wondering if they would receive any complaints about the noise.

jihyo was loud. maybe that was only a consequence of the lack of sana, but momo was hardly doing anything and jihyo was on the edge once again.

before momo had her like that, impaled on her cock, riding her with sheer enthusiasm, loudly whining and making sure to vocalize how good momo was for her, how good she felt inside, how she’d never taken anyone bigger, taking the girl to her room had been difficult. jihyo kissed like she’d never been kissed before, hungry and messy, as if she had no coordination at all, and now she rode her just the same.

momo coos, wanting to ask jihyo if that was what she really needed — if taking her cock was all she needed to forget her obsession with sana, wondering what jihyo’s answer would’ve been then, when almost all of her length was inside of the smaller girl who stubbornly attempted to take more cock than she could.

“b… big, momo,” jihyo mutters, reciting the only things she could possibly think about, her ex’s best friend and the way she stretched her up. “a-again, i’m… i-i’m… momo!”

labored breaths, tiny shrieks of pleasure and a sweet voice chanting momo’s name fills the room again. at that point, momo doubted that the neighbors would have the compassion not to complain about the noise, but caring about it the last thing momo thinks about, especially when jihyo was making herself come yet another time on her cock, still riding her hard as if refusing to cease to a stop.

“won’t you give yourself a rest, pretty girl?” momo asks. the noise that comes out of jihyo’s mouth as an answer doesn’t quite meet momo’s ears before jihyo is crashing into her, desperately finding her lips, and then momo’s tongue is playing with jihyo’s, as if guiding her into a brief change of pace, slowing down to be able to kiss jihyo properly.

jihyo pulls away. her hair, that had once been neat and perfectly styled into waves, is now messy, contributing to her disheveled appearance. she’s the prettiest girl momo had ever seen, truly, and momo almost blows her load when she remembers she was still inside of her. and jihyo was impossibly tight, gripping her length like she had never taken a cock before, rolling hips slowly as she recovered from reaching her peak, about to keep riding.

momo can’t think of anyone that had been that excited to ride her — she has had a good amount of girls, not as much as sana, but enough to know that jihyo was something else. being a good friend really paid off, momo concludes, if that was what she got from giving sana a hand. momo brings her hands to jihyo’s bare tits, squeezing the abundant flesh and sighing, muttering a ‘thank you, sana’ only in her head.

“you’re just too needy, aren’t you?” momo’s eyes travel down jihyo’s body, sighing when she finds jihyo’s heels still on her feet. they had been way too busy with each other’s lips before to notice jihyo had forgotten to take them off. a hand slips lower and a thumb stops lazily over jihyo’s clit, rubbing it with no effort, just so to make jihyo tremble on top of her. “get on your fours, pretty.”

it’s only when jihyo presents herself on her hands and knees that momo understands how blessed she had really been. jihyo is quickly filled again, letting a small gasp escape from her lips as she received momo again.

“s-so full…” jihyo whines mindlessly, face buried against momo’s pillow.

“that’s all you needed, isn’t that right, pretty girl?” momo taunts, in a way jihyo wouldn’t understand — mocks her for going after sana when all she needed was that. a big dick filling her up. and jihyo nods, being good, despite only being interested on the way momo held her hips and thrusted into her deliciously deep, making her see stars with how hard she closed her eyes.

if momo had been idle before, letting jihyo have fun bouncing on her lap and making herself come, she’s nothing like that when she has jihyo on her fours. she’s rude, holding her hips with little to no care, bending jihyo against the bed so that her face was kept against the pillow, ass still up for her.

that kind of treatment cleans jihyo’s mind completely, reducing her to nothing but the pleasure between her thighs. momo gives her everything she didn’t know she needed, making her helpless underneath her, clawing at the sheets and moaning prettily. she truly relishes in the way jihyo’s noises overlapped the constant squeaking of the bed, laughing softly when jihyo started to cover her own mouth, apparently noticing she was being too loud.

carelessly, momo gets so utterly entertained with the plaything she had gotten for the night, that the idea of using protection doesn’t cross her mind. not even when she’s coming inside jihyo, over and over again, does momo think about further consequences. it would be worth it, though — momo knows, enjoying every second of being inside sana’s ex and coming undone inside of her.

momo is still sleeping when jihyo leaves.

she’s incredibly sore, a result of momo’s rough handling, and her head aches as she begins to remember everything she’d done with her. the pain makes sense, considering that momo had spent a good amount of time forcing her face down on her cock to fuck her mouth and pulling her hair as if jihyo giving herself for her wasn’t enough — momo had to take.

and momo did, so hard that jihyo whimpered putting on her clothes, or some of them, because she couldn’t find her bra. jihyo steals a leather jacket momo had somewhere on a busy corner of her room, needing to cover herself and her shame with something, anything, cheeks red when she glances at momo one more time before she has to go.

jihyo was so busy focusing on walking properly despite the pain on her thighs that she doesn’t notice she’s walking into sana.

the bump startles her — sana is at the living room, not giving any access to an exit, with her arms crossed, shocked to find jihyo there.

what was worse was that jihyo looked like she’d just been attacked, from how messy she looked. with fresh hickeys adorning her neck, a hair that desperately needed to be brushed back into place and the jacket covering the wrinkled clothes, jihyo was nothing like her usual neat self.

“you… what are you…” sana fails to form a sentence.

“i-i… g-good morning! i n-need to go,” jihyo’s eyes never meet hers. she looks down to the ground, but sana can still see how flushed she is.

jihyo all but runs away from sana, and it’s the first time in months that sana being in front of her doesn’t make her heart race. jihyo’s heart still beats fast, but it’s because she’s shy, ashamed and still thinking about her night momo, not because sana was next to her.

while jihyo does her best to go home in safety, wanting to evaporate after seeing sana, sana keeps still right where she was. for minutes, long minutes of heavy breathing and thinking, she tries to understand what had just happened. sana tries hard to keep her cool, but she ends up storming into momo’s room and waking her up with a pillow being thrown on her face.

“eh?!” momo sits up confusedly. much to sana’s relief, she was wearing clothes.

“you fucked her.” sana accuses, harsh with her voice. “i told you to keep her distracted, not to fuck her!”

momo yawns, understanding what was going on. “why is that such a big deal?” she asks.

“she’s my ex, momo. my ex!” sana gets the pillow again, hitting momo with it a second time.

“but i was gentle!” momo lies, attempting to dodge the pillow — and failing.

sana seems to get angrier when momo mentions being gentle, screaming as loud as jihyo had done all night long as she cursed momo, except that now the neighbors witnessed sheer anger instead of pleasure.

“oooh, at least she’s cute.” nayeon teases as jihyo scrolled through momo’s photos on social media. “will you check the test now, mommy?”

jihyo bites her lips, still staring at her screen, hands trembling the more she saw of momo’s face. “it’s not funny, unnie.”

“but it is!” nayeon laughs, bumping her hand into jihyo’s shoulder playfully. “come on, this is hilarious. you’re having a baby with hirai momo. that’s literally the dumbest jock you could’ve ever picked. but she might be hottest too, so i’ll let that slide. the baby will be smart if they’re like you.”

“we don’t know that yet!” jihyo whines, considering to see the results of the pregnancy test, but she was far too afraid of what she would find. “and she’s not dumb. never say that again.”

nayeon coos. “already defending her like a girlfriend, i see.”

jihyo ignores nayeon, nervously grabbing the test away from the center table, holding it with her shaky hands. “i’ll do it now.”

a couple of weeks after sleeping with momo, jihyo had woken up on the verge of throwing up, nauseated despite keeping a balanced diet. there was nothing that could have gotten her sick, really. so when the days passed and jihyo kept throwing up, sometimes the moment she woke up, other times due to certain scents, jihyo became sure that something was not right — and maybe she’d even contributed to that, purposefully not taking a pill or asking momo to use a condom.

“i still can’t believe you let her come inside.” nayeon makes a comment, still trying to push jihyo’s buttons. it was for jihyo’s own good, really, as keeping her angry was better than letting her get anxious or even sad.

jihyo hardly hears what nayeon says. “unnie… it’s positive.”

the doorbell isn’t heard by momo, who’s busy trying to make boo, her puppy, keep ribbons on his head, quietly mumbling something about him going to her feed. sana opens the door mindlessly, not even checking who the person was, as some of the neighbors showed up there from time to time in order to give them (mostly momo) food and sweets, so that was what she was expecting to find.

unfortunately, it was jihyo, her worst nightmare, standing in front of her.

“not again…” sana sighs, ready to throw a speech about how she wasn’t jihyo’s girlfriend anymore and that jihyo shouldn’t go after her like a crazy stalker. “jihyo, you-”

“is momo home?” jihyo asks, rather shyly, almost unable to look at sana in the eye. she was still ashamed about the ‘walk of shame’ she’d done in front of sana out of all people, still reminiscing the moment.

just as jihyo makes her question, momo appears behind sana, curious to know who sana was speaking to, happy when she sees jihyo by the door.

“hyo!” momo exclaims sweetly, pushing sana away to see jihyo. that way, sana was left behind and momo was able to greet her properly, with a kiss on the cheek.

“hi… momo,” jihyo laughs awkwardly, suddenly not good with words anymore. sana was still there, jihyo knew, but she didn’t know how to announce a pregnancy, and the waiting had gotten her impatient. she had to say it already, tell momo what she had done. “i’m pregnant.”

at first, there’s silence.

jihyo looks at them — momo first, and then she acknowledges that sana was still there, getting even more flushed, realizing that she had just told sana that her roommate had gotten her pregnant.

“what?!” sana is the first one to break the silence.

“that’s awesome!” momo’s voice follows sana’s.

it’s clear that sana knows what was going on, but momo seemed to be thinking that maybe the baby was someone else’s. perhaps jihyo was only there to tell that to sana because sana was her ex, therefore her knowing about it made a lot of sense — it’s what momo believes at first, even going in for a hug with jihyo, as if she was congratulating her.

“momo…” jihyo calls, making momo pull away from her. “it’s yours. we didn’t… uh… we…” jihyo clears her throat. “the baby is yours.”

momo thinks she might faint. “cool. cool!”

“cool?!” sana tightens her fists, incredibly upset, because not only did momo get her ex pregnant, but that was how she reacted.

“are you okay?” jihyo palms momo’s face, worried as momo had gotten suddenly pale.

jihyo’s soft voice is the last thing momo hears before she faints — even before sana can make her, and she really wanted to. cool, momo thinks one last time before everything is black.

[nerd-space]

⋆. 𐙚 cyber-princess ⋆. 𐙚

PART TWO. . .

You find yourself in a panic as you realize you sent Mike, one of your closest friends: a set of holiday themed spicy dropbox content meant for Jess to look over and get tips from her on positions- turns out you fat fingered and sent it to him.

info// cam work, marking/bruising, overstim, pet play, pet names (puppy, good girl, baby,), impact play, tying of hands, Dom!Mike-Sub!Reader, brat x brat tamer dynamic, implied chubby reader but can be read as any body type, sex toys (vibrator wand, dildo, cr-crop whip.), I'm probably forgetting something like usual lol!

and this is set where Jess and Emily have not dated Mike prior and there is not beef or weirdness between anyone

You see, Mike Munroe finding out you did online sex work was definitely not something you had anticipated first of all- second of all... you didn't expect it to end up in the situation you found yourself in

8:30pm:

Mike: Be there in 30. If you're still on for that?

Me: Course i am, gotta prove my skills to the self proclaimed man slut of the century right? ;)

Mike: Ouch. So deep. Which is what i'll be in you. Catch you in 30, Sweetcheeks.

Cringey ass petname to use...how has he had so many women before? ...well.. you were also adding to the notches in his belt so were you in the place to question that? No.

8:55:

Mike: Pulling in...which.. is... what...

Me: I fucking hate you- finish that sentence and i'm sending you home riled up you freak

Mike: ...Aw :[ C'mon it's hilarious, you love it!

Me: Mhm, i think i'll like it if you prove yourself- i'll let you finish that joke if you make me finish :).

Mike: ...i'm running to your door as we speak.

And he was.

You hear a loud frantic knock- you laugh loudly so he hears you making fun of his desperation before you open the door.

You're very quickly caught into a rough kiss and his hands grabbing your face as you stumble back- Mike kicks the fromt door shut, you almost shiver at that...it was a weirdly hot act.

Now you find yourself on your back on your bed- having yet to put any of your sex toys away.. props.. camera... that was still fucking rolling from the quick content shesh you had 20 mins before he got to your place

You hope Mike is too caught up to notice anything- also realizing you were in a t-shirt.. that's all.

His hand slides up your shirt and as he does that he sits back and realizes you're already almost fully nude while he is- fully dressed.. he's never tried a dynamic like this but is now growing obsessively hard at the sight.

He grins and glances to the side for a second before doing a double take and staring wide eyed at the vibrating wand and the girthy toy that seemed to be.. recently used? Oh? he glances up at tge flashing red light and the recording camcorder with you two in frame as he looks back at you with a whistle

"Oho?... what's this? still filming something? we're you touching yourself before i got here, expecting me to leave you unsatisfied by chance?"

"N-no no!... just.. was filming something last minute stuff..."

He doesn't believe it.

And now you're 3 orgasms deep into the session from just his fingers and the vibratior- you check the time on your phone next to you and.. t-ten minutes?... TEN MINUTES!? WHAT!?

He's made you cum THREE TIMES IN TEN MINUTES?

Oh no, What have you gotten yourself into.

Which is where he eyes the thick, fatty dildo you had used on yourself.. of course it would feel better with someone else using it.. you can only get it so far by yourself..

Now your filled to the brim with 7.5 inches of girthy silicone as you tremble and shake- your knuckles white from digging into his wrist as he roughly fucks the toy into you- forcing the vibrator onto your clit harshly as he talks you through another damn orgasm.

"Oh..oh i cant wait to put my dick inside you.. shit.. if this is how you react to a simple 7 and a half inches who knows how you'll handle me.."

Oh. Shit.

[magickman1234]

You Used to be a Good Fatty

You’ve always been fat on some level. Your figure softened after you got chubbier before college and you were the token fat girl by sophomore year. You were taller so from some angles you didn’t show as much but deep down you knew you weren’t just curvy but fat. You dated sparingly even though men and women were interested. They just either closet chubby chaser cases, assholes trying out a fat chock or too shy around your body. You danced that line from fat acceptance site to fat fetish sites but again it was hard to find something right. You turned into a good fatty after college. You ate right, you staid your current size, and you worked out to firm up your curves. Dating still sucked and honestly you missed the old ways in college. Eating recklessly but now you’re an adult you got to be showing your trying to be thin and in shape.

Despite the effort your body just loves to stay thick. You keep a VBO but you keep yourself acceptable as a fatty. An online friend jokes you should get a feeder boyfriend after a bad date and you laugh but actually go to the right sire. It’s not world shattering but you do like the thought of eating for pleasure. You start to experiment with just slating yourself by following some impulses for candy and buy a huge chocolate muffin at the bakery. You blog about it and the attention feels hot. You enjoy your full tummy too much and it creeps in to your weekly routine. You’re proud and post before and afters shot to your food adventures. You still work out but you steadily get fatter. Pounds pour back into your belly and hips. Thighs soften as that sophomore second chin comes in again. You won’t admit it but you’ve never cummed like you do with a full stomach. Embarrassment and light humiliation creeps in as your clothes get too snug. You’re too big for your gym clothes and you feel like a cow next to the other girls now. You should be horrified but that horror turns to white hot arousal and the death of a pizza. You’ve never lost control before but it’s beyond words. A teasing evil DM comments on how your stretch marks are creeping up your middle now and doubled in quantity. You’re enthralled as the feeder finds a dark submissive side to you.

You’ve had mixed experiences with chubby chasers but you’ve always loved the raw love for your fat, your body, and seeing someone want you so directly. His hungry words make you hungry as you find yourself quaking with arousal and distended after talking to him. You submit more and more to him until you finally meet him. Electric was the touch of his hands as he traced your stretch marks you added for yours and his pleasure. Quickly pounds start to spill out of you as you feel yourself be trained to give into every whim every desire every gluttonous fantasy. You can’t remember when you last went to the gym, everything is growing on you and your daily routine is good and orgasmic focused. Your VBO turns to an unabashed hanging double belly. Your thigh and ass spread to take over any chair and your strained by the slightest incline or stairs. You pass the mid 200s way faster than you expected. Your feeder learns the best/worst times to jiggle your fatty bits to keep you excited and up your appetite. You grow more submissive as you get heavier and bigger. Whatever happened to that good fatty that staid in shape? Who kept herself presentable?

When did you become this 300 pound plus round faced butterball eager for her date to the local buffet or all you can eat Korean Barbecue? Your free now to be whatever out of control fatty your appetites and desire lead you to become. Your finally yourself.

[persephoneflouwers]

🌺 my favourite girl direction fics under the cut! 🌺

There is nothing else in this world that I love more than women. I grew up in a family built around the strongest women I’ll ever met in my life. So powerful, so determined, yet so gentle and affectionate. Huge personalities and all.

It took me awhile to understand who I am and I’m not completely sure I do and this little world where women love women feels so safe for me.

Can I also use this post to open my research for my next wife? No, I can’t? No, I shouldn’t? Whaaaat I just did! Please, babe HMU 🫶

Anywayssss…

🌺 The changer and the changed by homosociallyyours || 60K ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

It’s the spring of 1977 and Harry Styles has just moved to New York City after graduating college. She knows she’s a lesbian. She just needs to figure out how to meet other lesbians. Louis Tomlinson works at a popular women’s bookstore in the Lower East Side, Womon’s Direction, where she spends her days reading feminist literature, writing poetry, exchanging friendly barbs with her boss Niall, and dreaming of finding someone to love. When Harry and Louis meet, their connection is instantaneous. Slowly but surely, Louis welcomes Harry into her community of women. Stonewall veteran and old school butch Niall; Liam, a land dyke who’s moved to the city for love; and Zayn, a lesbian musician who’s been ostracized by a vocal part of women’s community for being trans, welcome Harry with open arms, ready to help her find her place in New York City’s bustling lesbian scene. It’s a time of growth for everyone involved.

🌺 It’s all gonna roll your way by 1Diamondinthesun ( @1diamondinthesun ) || 53K

Harry, Liam, Niall, and Zayn are editors at Nova, a historically progressive women’s print magazine with plans to launch digital content at the end of the summer. Louis is a single mom and temporary worker with a knack for graphic design. When investors request sweeping reform in their content, Harry and her team have to decide which principles, if any, they’re willing to compromise in order to survive as an online publication.

🌺 Bluer than velvet were her eyes (softer than satin were her thighs) by thebreadvan ( @thebreadvansstuff ) || 12K

Harry hums a melody absentmindedly as she works, bent over the sewing table, when the bell above the door chimes suddenly, announcing the arrival of a customer. Mid-stitch, Harry glances up.

“Good morning,” comes the woman’s feathery voice. Harry should probably welcome her, say something, anything, but she’s captivated by her slow and powerful walk, the click of her leather knee-high boots. With the needle hovering above the fabric, Harry slides her eyes up thick thighs, the maroon blazer that ends just above them, and the black knit dress that engulfs the woman’s figure, stretching obscenely around her bust. Jesus Christ.

Or, Harry should probably stop obsessing over her customer’s boobs, but fate can’t keep her away from Louis.

🌺 who run the world (girls!) by dolce_piccante || 11K

A femslash take on the beginning of Relief Next To Me, complete with girl!Direction, lots of tongue action, and lots of hints to the original work.

🌺 I feel it when my heart beats by Quickedween ( @becomeawendybird ) || 10K

Harry offers to be her best friend Liam's fake date to his work Valentine's Day party, and the night takes an unexpected turn.

🌺 Ride the W.A.V.E by Quickedween ( @becomeawendybird ) || 7K ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Petty officer Louis Tomlinson can't resist a good thing when it's right in front of her.

🌺 Under the R.A.D.A.R by Quickedween ( @becomeawendybird ) || 6K ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Petty officer Louis Tomlinson has been assigned to the rear admiral's fiancée for the month the couple is aboard the USS John F. Kennedy. She can only hope that he won't catch on to what they're doing... after hours.

🌺 Gotta get (me) out of my head by parmahamlarrie ( @parmahamlarrie ) || 6K

Sometimes, Harry Styles cannot get out of her head. Her ADHD, coupled with working from home, sometimes makes it impossible for her to ever find peace. Luckily, she has Louis, her loving girlfriend and Daddy, to take care of her.

Or the one where Harry gets her first collar.

🌺 Pacify her by yeah_alright ( @uhoh-but-yeah-alright ) || 5K ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Harry's anxiety is acting up. Louis has the only thing that will soothe her.

OR Louis' pussy is the ultimate pacifier.

🌺 To sleep, perchance to ream by yeah_alright ( @uhoh-but-yeah-alright ) || 4K

Louis has never minded that Harry tends to go to sleep earlier than her. But the nights when Harry signals she'd like Louis to...wake her when she comes to bed are Louis' favorite.

🌺 The Christmas (to the one I’ve been missing) by Kikiberoski16 ( @larrysballetslippers ) || 3K

“Thank you, Louis,” Miss cutie said with a light whine. Louis nodded and walked with her to the paper sheets' aisle. To hear the girl's soft footsteps behind her was more than satisfying. So polite and cute, the fact she remembered Louis name said- “Wait, how do you know my name?”

or, Louis almost made it to the end of her shift before someone familiar stepped into the store. A long awaited Christmas tale.

🌺 Tear it off by ialwaysknewyouwerepunk ( @ialwaysknewyouwerepunk ) || 3K

Harry and Louis are married and have a toddler. Their home life is a cuteness overload, and then grandma Anne comes by to pick up the kid for a day out. Harry and Louis are then alone, perfect timing for a little bedroom adventure. Including, you guessed it, harry's pink cowboy get-up from coachella.

🌺 little pink skirt by ialwaysknewyouwerepunk ( @ialwaysknewyouwerepunk ) || 3K ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Harry, Louis, Zayn and Liam are at a festival. It's the afternoon of the last day, and they're lounging on the grass before the action starts, still recovering from the night before. There's a bunch of sexual tension between H and L from where things left off in their drunken haze. When Louis tries to light a spliff, the wind makes it impossible to do so, for which Harry has an ingenious idea. And then one thing leads to another.

[vaspider]

Hey I saw on a reblog you made on a post, you said you had two wives! Bro I almost cried, I'm 20 (almost 21) and I've just flunked out of school, I'm getting my first full time job and I'm getting an apartment with my boyfriend and my other boyfriend had to stay home with his overbearing father. But he was going to join us in the apartment.

I didn't look at much else about your blog, so I don't know much else. My boyfriends aren't dating each other, but idk how I got so lucky for them to be instant best friends. I'm on the cusp of telling my parents, I don't think it'll be a huge deal, a sigh of overwhelming concern for my sake from my mother, and just plain confusion but "I'll accept and support you because that's what a good liberal father like myself is supposed to do" on my dad's end.

I was just excited to see other polyam people who might have a similar set up as me. Funny enough, the only issue between the three of us is that when it comes to eventually getting married, they both want to be my legal spouse. I live in the United States, so that's simply not possible. One of my boyfriends is a gay transman, and the other a straight cisman. I'm collecting every bi label possible (bisexual, biromantic, bigender, bicyclist) but I mostly identify as a woman and it's a strong part of my personhood. I look like a girl, I act like a girl, I was born a girl, etc. I've only been with both of them a handful of months now. They both really want to raise children and do a good job doing it, they both wanna live in the same part of the state I grew up in, I met them both on their way to well-paying job fields and they're both determined to take care of me like their Italian father's taught them a man should do. I came from a mother of a strong women lineage with a father who resented every ounce of his Italian upbringing. All three of us have mental health concerns and issues, trans gay bf has a list of mental illnesses and practically confirmed nurodivergencies. I'm very likely ADHD. The straight bf is a thick boned adrenaline junkie who doesn't understand what pain is (aka a masochist. the other doesn't understand what cold is 🙄😖. So maybe it's a good thing they both chose a little know-it-all who constantly nags them to make sure they're taking care of themselves, and somehow they don't really mind it.) is probably ADHD too, and struggles with depression.

My apologies for the absolute vent. Respond or don't respond however you will. Ig this is my first time interacting with a polyam person who might have a vaguely similar situation. I suppose I was just looking to connect with others. Thank you for your time to even read all for this lol.

Kynthia (idk let's just go with that online name lol)

Well, we are a triad - an equilateral triangle - and not a V, but I'm glad us existing made you happy. :)

[sirianasims]

It was Saturday night. We had ordered room service, watched an old cult classic in bed. Paul hadn’t felt like going out. A reporter had cornered him in the airport yesterday and questioned him about his frequent visits to San Myshuno, asked if he was seeing someone.

He’d denied it.

Despite the fame, Paul was an intensely private person, always guarding his personal space against a world that kept demanding more. I respected that, even though I was more used to the opposite. My personal life was part of my online brand, but I’d followed his lead and kept our relationship secret.

Paul’s arms were wrapped around me, his chest firm and reassuring against my back. The rhythmic cadence of his breathing was like a soft lullaby, but I was nowhere close to falling asleep.

“Julia? Is something wrong? Are you still thinking about the reporter?”

“It’s just… all this secrecy.”

“You don’t think I denied seeing anyone because I’m ashamed of you, do you?”

I took a deep breath.

“Seventeen years, Paul. It’s not just the number, it’s the experience. I’m proud of what I do, I really am, but compared to you, drawing and sewing in front of a tiny camera by myself seems… trivial. You have this glamorous life, you know all these famous people, you’ve traveled the world. I haven’t done anything. Sometimes I’m afraid that I might not be, well, sophisticated or interesting enough for you. That I might never be someone you’d want to show off in public.”

“Listen to me, Julia. You are more than enough for anyone. Definitely for me. But if people find out about us, I’m not worried about myself. An older actor dating a younger woman? That’s not a scandal, that’s a cliché. But you… I really don’t want you facing the kind of judgment this would get you.”

“Wait, you’re saying you’re concerned about my reputation?”

“In a way. I don’t care what people say about me any more. I’ve been in this industry long enough to develop a thick skin. But you deserve so much better. And while it isn’t fair, the world is much more likely to judge you, and that’s the last thing I want.”

I cupped his face in my hands.

“Paul, I don’t care. What could they possibly say?”

He looked away, a hint of bitterness in his voice.

“Oh, you have no idea. They’ll say that you callously seduced me to further your own career or that you’re too dumb to be anything more than arm candy. Probably somehow both. They’ll accuse you of being a gold-digger. Men will hate you because they can’t have you, women will hate you because they can’t be you. People will be cruel and unforgiving and pick apart everything you are. They will criticise your work, your looks, the way you walk and talk. And it never ends. The peak of my fame was almost a decade ago, but they’re still following me into airports and asking about my love life.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond. Paul looked at me earnestly.

“Julia, I believe in you. Your work is great, especially your own designs, and I’ve seen a lot of costumes. I want you to be famous for being incredibly talented, not just for being Paul Romeo’s girlfriend.”

I couldn’t help but smile.

“Oh, so I am your girlfriend, then?”

He laughed.

“That’s your takeaway from this conversation? Of course you are, what do you think we’ve been doing for the last few months?”

“Well, what do I know, I’m just the dumb arm candy of Paul Romeo. I should probably be pestering you to buy me a sports car made of diamonds or a platinum ladder so I can social-climb in style.”

Paul chuckled.

“That sounds impractical. And you’re definitely not dumb, but you’re pretty terrible at being a gold-digger. All joking aside, I don’t like keeping you a secret either, but I know the dark side of fame, how toxic it can be. It can really poison a relationship. I’ve seen it happen to friends and colleagues over and over again, and I just want to protect you from that. Protect us.”

I respected Paul for his noble intentions, for looking out for me. Still, a part of me, that stubborn – and probably naive – part, wanted to stand tall and shout it from the rooftops, consequences be damned.

But I also knew that he was right.

Those consequences would hurt me way more than they would hurt him.

beginning / previous / next

[catboybiologist]

Ah. I see my mistake now. I meant instead of doxxing, the irl person who had an “exact opposite of a logical reaction” (I assumed poor reaction). I’d believe you would try to fuck my dad if you wouldn’t get immediately stuck flirting with my mom. I’m not saying you aren’t bi, but men don’t seem to measure up for you in that way pound for pound. Thank you for your posts!!

To be hetero: taste in men?

Oh yeah, that was kind of reverse doxxing where someone I knew irl used this online account in a wildly inappropriate context to try and shame me. Luckily everyone involved realized he was way out of line.

I thirst over women a lot here because a solid plurality of my followers here are tgirls. Personally I'd say my attraction is actually pretty even all around for guys/girls/others, I just don't show it as much because sapphic pining is a meme.

But ooo, are we talking taste in men? Hetero posting time!!!

I'm attracted to a lot of different kinds of men, but I my "peak" categories usually follow one of two archetypes: rugged or twink.

Twink is... pretty self explanatory. It's more a vibe than a body type tbh, which I'm pretty sure makes sense to most people. Like, I gotta look at a guy and be like "damn, that is one breakable twink", y'know? Like the kind of man I could crack in half like a small dried bundle of spaghetti. Y'know what I mean.

Rugged.... ho boy. My bisexual awakening was Aragorn, and that really has held ever since. Facial hair, potentially long, somewhat greasy hair, bit of dust and dirt from the road, a NICE, tasteful mix of fat and muscle that shows someone both well fed and well exercised... not an overly muscley sort, but someone who looks like they would handle a situation that's thrown at them. Someone who would kiss me under the stars with bare feet in the dirt, lean over me and tenderly lay me down on the grass. The body hair untrimmed, just thick enough to comb my hands through and rub my cheek on. We'd lay there, on the camping mat, the ground, or in the bed of a truck, and I'd drift off to sleep with my head using his broad, fluffy chest as a pillow. And oh, the SMELLS. Not like, a dirty smell- but when a properly outdoorsy man is clean, there's still a lingering scent of sweat and dirt that hangs beneath the soap he uses, and oh my goooooodddddddddddddddd I would do a line of that like it's cocaine. His gentle and broad forearms wrapped just below my shoulder as I curl up besides and on top of him, one leg wrapped around him, and his arm gently around my shoulders, idly and softly petting my neck with just a thumb, as my ears on his chest let me hear his heartbeat, his breathing, his digestion....

i uh. I uh, maybe need to go on a date soon LOL

[fountainpenguin]

"And the women, they all pity me... because I'm married, but not in love! Frozen at the center...?" (x)

---

New Dog's Life chapter today! ~ 3rd Life series fan-season

Chapter 20 - “Sizzle (Grian, Scar)”

❤️ Read on AO3

💛 Start from Chapter 1

💚 More Pixels Imperfect fics

---

Grian makes plans to set SnifferMyFeet up on a date, then buys some very special bread. Scar comes home to a wrecked apartment and confronts the gingerbread-loving demon in his closet. Just your average Traffic SMP fanfic- nothing to see here.

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

---

Grian

Status: Dear, bewildered, and awkward

💙  🧡  💚

Grian leaves a very special cloak hanging in the closet of Lounge 3LF specifically for full moon nights. It's black and heavy. Not at all as flamboyant as he'd like, and decorations would certainly make it more fun. The biggest thing that mars the inky blackness is the giant red symbol on the back: a circle with a slash down the center. More red marks, spaced a few centimeters apart, wrap the hems of his sleeves. He's got one on each shoulder too, and it's really not flattering…

… but the stifling, peculiar nature of it is really the whole point. It's a full moon tonight, you know.

Grian wraps it around his shoulders and clicks the silver clasp at the front. The thick cloak is padded (on the off chance anyone nips him with teeth or claws). It's not armor, but he can't use his wings like this. It'd be a massive liability in a fight, but it dulls the color and rustle of his feathers, and it's excellent at diverting the eye of anyone who's out tonight seeking visual or auditory courting cues.

TwoMuchGrian's still fussing with his feathers, scowling in the mirror. Pearl and Jimmy don their black and red cloaks in turn. Martyn, for the first time Grian can remember, struts from the lobby without one. Grian tries not to notice anybody else. He flips up the hood, smothering his hair. He pauses for Two so they can leave together. While waiting, he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror and almost snorts.

Nah, certainly not flattering… but totally effective. I wouldn't flirt with me either tonight.

The lanterns and copper bulbs that glow inside the multiplayer hub stay fluorescently bright all night long. Defining "night" is difficult in the underground, especially with time zones from around the world all dumped in one small perimeter. The Between dimension keeps chugging along anyway.

As Grian leaves the multiplayer zone, stepping out into the bedrock streets, the clock tower chimes to signal 12k ticks. Out there, above ground, the world's officially bathed in pink and orange sunset lighting. So they say, anyway. Hmm… Grian tips back his head, gripping the hood in both hands. He pulls the fabric downward so it digs against his pores.

He breathes.

New Star Station's bustling tonight. The city population ebbs and flows with account activity at the best (and worst) of times, but for now, chattering voices ripple through the air. Happy, friendly people bounce along wherever they want to go.

Pearl brushes past him then, sending one last I'm sorry grimace with her mouth and eyes. Grian nods back to indicate All good. Each moon phase stretches out for four days in Between, and tonight's the second one in the batch. The pull against his fluffing scarlet feathers is much, much stronger now than it was on Monday. It prickles over every shaft and barb.

Since neither he nor Pearl care for random hook-ups, they usually go out for food together or catch a movie on nights like tonight. It depends what's going on with Hermitcraft. Really, Grian doesn't make a habit of jumping online for projects immediately after an exhausting Life series recording session like this one. He usually gets Pearl's second full moon night- Gem and Impulse hang out with her on the third.

But tonight, Pearl has a refugee at her place… and not exactly someone he's thrilled to go looking for. His last encounter with EthoCam (Sorry… Rhetoric) left a less than pleasant aftertaste behind. At that thought, Grian stares down the dimly lit street, letting his eyes fall halfway shut.

I need to warn SnifferMyFeet not to go near him…

Maybe another time. Maybe when it isn't the full moon. Vex posture and flaunt themselves like mad this time of the month. Sniff might bite, and that's really not something he's in the mood for. There's still server clean-up to do on Hermitcraft. He's been meaning to add a nicer bridge design to the dolphin path. Maybe he'll send Scar a whisper in a bit.

He rocks forward, setting a brisk pace down the street. Blaze powder and slime balls are already mixing into magma cream on the bedrock. Two drifts after him without touching the ground. As much faith as Grian likes to put in the 'Not on the market tonight' cloak designs, it's an extra blanket of reassurance (like a knock to the head) knowing his twin's there to watch his back. Two might split off for some flirting later on, but it's nice of him to walk him home.

His comm buzzes, rattling up his arm like a shockwave. Grian looks down.

TwoMuchGrian: are we going to bigb's?

"… No, not tonight. Just back to our place."

Cheery people flit around on feet and wings. Some dress in 'No' cloaks and chat anyway, just excited to catch up while they have the chance. Some hook their arms around those of friends or acquaintances they've got their eye on for the evening. Strangers, maybe (some of them). No love hearts flicker in the cracks and crevices, but the warm eyes and friendly laughs say just as much.

It's an early courting night. It's posture. It's a show. Expect a few fights to break out tomorrow morning as people settle in and get more cherry-choosey, fussing over the partners they want to keep for the next 100 days. The block turns next Wednesday or Thursday. Scar won't even hunt until a couple nights into the full moon. He says souls taste better when they're satisfied on their post-loving time high, and they put up less of a fight.

Loving time. Sure.

So… What's everybody doing if these were never real hook-ups to begin with? No kisses. No nothing. His digital, programmed peers have no need nor desire to reproduce. All these empty courtship tugs they feel beneath the full moon just lead to… nothing.

[Full chapter on AO3 - Link at top]

[papirouge]

You still can't get over that white man from the bear??!! 🤦🏾‍♀️ Smh my head and you have the gall to tell other black women to "uNLeaRn YoUr BLaCk MaLe wORsHIp" while literally salivating over that ugly ass man! But he's white so it's fine!!! He's different!!!! In fact, I've never seen you express attraction towards bm even once, only yt ones... I see how it is. lmao. White men aren't any better than black men and you'll realize that one day, no matter how much you trash "muh pookie and rayray" that yt man is not going to pick you!!!

me : *makes a post of a TV where I weep about a CHARACTER that was once funny*

your schyzo ass : *makes a tirade about how I "salivate over White" men*..yeah- totally normal reaction here.

...which also shows how TRIGGERED how some of you are at Black women expressing romantic /sexual interest for non Black men 🤭 you guys are so sensitive

And yeah, there's definitely a difference between unlearning male worship (actively defending men and defending men perspective) AND finding (some) men attractive (which is a passive occurence). For the record, I'm a straight women, it's compulsory for me to occasionally find men attractive, regardless of their race. Deal with it.

And I genuinely don't understand why I owe you publicly displaying my attraction towards Black men on my blog. I'm not a pickme so you won't see me frequently post pic set thrist traps of attractive men, but when it happened, I actually remember it was not always white men (yeah bc you guys act like there were only 2 races of men on this planet - just wait til you realize some black women have a preference for men who are neither black or white 🤯)

"white men aren't better than black men" Well, when it comes to killl black women in DV White men are statistically the safer & better bet. Cope.

I also heard the longer lasting mixed marriage in the US were white man and black woman but I need to (re)chek my source on that.

"the yt man isn't gonna pick you" this weird fearmongering is getting so old 🥱 you really think black women genuinely interested in interracial dating struggle to find non black men (to marry)? I've seen my sisters & friends date men outside of their race plentiful of times. One of them is married to a white man and had children with him.

The very few times I get approached it was by non Black men - for some reason people (even black men) assume I'm into White men💁🏾‍♀️ while I ironically NEVER disclosed my dating preference (let alone online) lol

Fun fact : in my country, it's an open secret many rightoid moids date/prefer black women. One infamous rightoid is MARRIED to a Black woman from the same ethnicity as me lol and before that he also dated a black woman from the same ethnicity. Dude openly stated had a type (Black women). So if rightoid white men openly profess their attraction to Black women, you REALLY think it would be impossible for regular men to do be attracted by us as well? If anything, the reputation pf Black women to be extremely race loyal (more than black men who date out MORE than their female counterparts) is what discourage non Black men to shoot their shot with black women. It's fascinating to see you guys act like the act ot rejection solely came from non white men, and that black women weren't themselves entertaining this image of "i date Black men only" that wreck any of their chance to get approached by non Black men. Why? Because you are OBSESSED humbling Black women and that now seeing the tide turning, gaslight us into believing that we have no chances or opportunity with non Black men.

I already see it coming and you'll soon screech about fEtichIzAtiOn but let's be honest : aren't Black men fetichizising Black Women already? Talking about being "thick", their (BBL'd grotesque) butt size, almost like animals.... But when it's Black men talking about preferring let's say Latina or Snow Bunny it's just a "preference" (no fetichism)? BUT GOD FORBID A WHITE MAN PREFERS BLACK WOMEN AND SUDDENLY HE'S A FETISHIST INTO SLAVE PLAY!! puh-lease.. we're tired.

We've all witnessed how your kin got ANGRYat the viral "black wife effect" thing. And let me tell you : it's just the beginning ☺️ black women burned the cape, broke free from race loyalty trap, and now go where they are appreciated. And those non Black men love them so much in return they're willing to level up power 10000000

We love to see it 🧡

[milliemakesmagic]

So, I have such a huge urge to talk about this. Trigger warning: unhealthy online relationships, and mentions of sexual harassment.

In 2020 during the height of quarantine, my friend (and Pinterest lol) introduced me to this film called, "Red Shoes and the Seven Dwarfs." I was immediately interested because it was the first time I saw myself as an animated character. I'm a pale, brunette, with brown eyes and a slim figure. (Yes I know, basic, and most girls in fiction look like that, but I actually DO look incredibly similar to how they animated her.) I grew extremely attached to the gifs and pictures I'd find of Red Shoes because

OH MY WORD IT'S ME BUT ANIMATED

It's quarantine. What else am I gonna do.

When I finally saw the movie I absolutely loved the quirky retelling of Snow White, with the absolutely STELLAR women of all sizes empowerment, AND THE KID FRIENDLY WAY OF SAYING DON'T OBJECTIFY WOMEN. 👏👏👏👏👏

But around that same time, I was talking to a boy online who eventually became my online boyfriend. And even though he claimed to be Christian and respectful, he had a LOT of issues with objectifying women...and by extension, me. He claimed to be respectful of boundaries. But he wasn't. My rose colored glasses were so thick that I didn't see it all until after I had loved ones step in to separate me from this guy before things became dangerous. But I truly thought he was the Merlin to my Red Shoes. And in a way, he was. Merlin is a difficult character for me. I LOVE his character arch and charm. But I sometimes can't get over just how much he did for Red Shoes only for her looks. There was a lot that my relationship with this guy. I was stuck with a Merlin that wasn't going to change his ways. His eyes would always stray to prettier things.

After the hellish breakup, I started therapy, and developed a lot of unhealthy coping strategies. When you fall in love during the "end of the world" you kind of assume he's all you have. So when I lost that and then realized that he'd been sexually harassing me and I was too smitten to notice, it was a LOT to take in. "If I'd given up their magic you wouldn't have helped me find my father would you?....Would you? I thought we were both under the same spell. But now I see that, I was wrong."

My ex used to refer to me as Red Shoes, he understood how much I loved that I felt like I was her. And when he and I split, the pain that movie gave me was unbearable. My Merlin never loved me for who I was inside. I was only pretty.

I even had sent him photos of my in my Red Shoes cosplay that I did for my birthday. I was so excited to show him. Next thing I knew he was blocked, and my costume, my own pair of red shoes, were boxed into the closet where they couldn't hurt me anymore.

And I thought that was the end. I wasn't the princess Snow White. I was some twisted version of Red Shoes that got a crappy ending and a pervert for my "prince."

I dated one or two people a few years later. But it was all surface dating. Nothing emotionally invested. And then my friend introduced me to this guy. And you want to know what one of the first things we did together was?

We sat down together and watched Red Shoes and the Seven Dwarfs. And he held my hand, and squeezed it when he could tell I was getting emotional.

Months later I have a ring on my finger to be his. And tonight as I laid here listening to the Red Shoes soundtrack that no longer hurts like hell, I realized that my love and connection for this movie wasn't ever between me and my online abuser. It was meant to be a stepping stone for me and my now fiancé. That boy wasn't my Merlin. This man, who respects me, loves me, encourages me and builds me up to be all that I can be, HE'S my Merlin, my prince.

We agreed that I'd wear red pumps on our wedding day. To me, it's a reminder of how far I've come and that God never gave up on me.

And with a loving, secure, and healing heart I can finally truly say,

"I got Merlin'd."

[blubushie]

Blu your speaking straight FACTS on the demonization/ostracization of masculinity in the queer community! Like I was talking to my brother about this ( him a gay man and me a bi women) about how he wishes there was more queer men that leaned into masculinity bc while he has no problem dating/getting to know effeminate men he prefers the masculine men. While he was apologizing for sounding harsh about his feeling, I was like no I totally understand bc a drag queen that I like put it best "I am gay man. Meaning I like men and their features. I like deep voices, big body, hair everywhere." Like when I was getting to know the queer community more in my teens I was finding it weird/off how the gay male community would want their ideal men to be that stereotypical man but anybody they deemed not fckable with those features they would ostracized.

Even in the Sapphic community leaning to much into masculinity ostracized the Sapphic that embraced it and they'll be accused of wanting to be a man or accused of betraying Sapphic women for leaning away from the feminity their attracted too. Like doing this demonization damages the community because 1.) It makes it harder for those ignorant of themseleves/on their journey to understand themselves TO UNDERSTAND themselves bc the features/actions that they have are hated by a community they thought was opened (as u said.) 2.) Ostracizes those who do know themselves and want community ( AS U SAID!) 3.) Kills hope in that their are no positive examples of healthy masculinity so those attracted to it give up on finding a healthy and positive partner who is masculine or give up on the idea they themselves can be queer and engage in healthy masculinity.

Going back to the talk with my brother, I told him I'm like him in that I like my men to look like men too. While my bisexuality has me attracted to people with gender presentation fuckery, I also do like it when a person of that gender presents their stereotypical gender BECAUSE IM ATTRACTED TO MEN AND WOMEN AND I SHOULD LIKE AND APPRECIATE THEIR FEATURES BC THATS WHAT IM ATTRACTED TOO!!!

Like when I see TF2 fanart of the mercs with body hair and body fat/heftiness I go 😍🫦😝💦😜😍👀🫦🤪 bc here are some hot men that look like MEN. ( I treasure the fanart that has Scout having body hair and muscle bc 1.) He a full grown adult not a twink high-schooler 2.) Mfer can go 1 on 1 with someone like Heavy [might not always win but there are chances he can win- looks at his meet the... video], it's his job to fight other beefed up guys, and have you seen how thick/muscled up baseball players can get.) Bc even in fanart, not just TF2 fanart, men are depicted in a narrow ideal of masculinity where they are not allowed to have masculine features which to me makes it artificial. And that something real is the masculinity the community keeps denying/gatekeep in real life and online.

I'm gonna rustle some feathers. In EVERY queer environment I've ever been in, the only way I've ever gotten the vibe that it's ok for a man to be a man is if he's a girl. If you're too tall, too bearded, too hairy, too fat, too bald, too deep a voice, too masculine in presentation, you're irredeemable—god forbid you LIKE how testosterone has changed your body. You are the monster in their fairy tales. You have to prove yourself as "not like other men" somehow because if you're a man and you like men, that's not queer enough. If you're a trans man who is too masculine or passes too well, you're betraying your community somehow, or your birth sex. Fuck your dysphoria, we'll only feel comfortable with your presence if you walk in tits out in a miniskirt, ~flambouyantly GNC~, and even THEN we'll make comments about how your masculinity makes us uncomfortable because you still look too male.

And if you're a bisexual man? Hell you might as well be straight. Won't even give you the decency of calling you an ally—nah, mate, you're an invader. Iunno what the B stands for.

[yikesbin]

13 ways of looking at a fat girl : a review from an actual fat girl

**CW: eating disorders, body image, fat phobia, sexual fetishizing

Mona Awad invented the "fat girl gaze" with this book. Or at least, she put it into words.

I have never felt more seen & understood through a work of fiction in my entire life. I've struggled with body image and its effects on my females friendships since I hit puberty. And although I have never been an actual bitch straight to the faces of my skinny friends, this novel captures a perfect rendition of my internal monologue. Here's some of my thick girl thoughts about some of the themes discussed!

The Fat Girl Sexual Experience™️ :

The fat girl sexual experience is highly discussed throughout most of this book, and it is as similar to real life as it disgustingly could be. Because what is being a fat woman if not constantly being perceived as a piece of meat merely used for fucking? Or maybe it's the constant older-male sexual gratification that seals the deal. Either way, Awad does not shy away from the raw truth that dating as a fat girl is packed with weird fetishizes & the constant stripping of innocence. And something I find that this book does well, is explaining how fat women lean into a sexualized culture. Although that is not a want or a goal for me, it almost feels like I've had to appear from sexual to get any "attention" from men at all. Even if I'm not wanting to be sexual. And if attention is received, it's almost always in a negative, two-toned connotation, because apparently being a woman with boobs means I'm only here to fuck you. You can throw interpersonal communication out the window - my top says "skip the gentleness & just get to work!". So you lean into it. You become a sexual fantasy. At least you're not alone anymore. It's easier this way.

The Fear of Fat Loss :

But then comes after. Awad paints a picture of one my my greatest fears; losing my all my weight & somehow becoming more mad at the world than before.

When scrolling through many weight loss videos online, I often am reminded of how cruel society is, in ways that seem almost ingrained into the start of a person. How people become kinder to you after the weight is gone, or how those around you seem to keep the fat girl you once were in the back of their head. People hold open the door for you now, or they smile at you more.

And then I'm remember that looking at myself after weight-loss would be more grueling that being fat itself. Because you now feel foreign in your own body. You begin to judge others that looked like you at one point, and question how they can live such a happy life when they look like that. I finally got what I wanted, why am I so miserable? The truth is, you are not happy. Because skinniness does not equal happiness. It merely makes shopping easier. And maybe you can feel like you fit in with your friends more. But it's hard to accept yourself as skinny and happy when it took you bitterness & internalized fat phobia to get there. "Congratulations!" they say, and you sit there wondering how strange it is to congratulate someone on their own self-hatred. You are haunted by the fat girl inside.

As a final conclusion, I'll state that these are my opinions based on experiences I felt connected with the topics addressed in this work of FICTION. You don't have to agree, and I don't care if you disagree. Be kind. I'll leave this post with some one my favorite quotes, feel free to analyze them in the comments.

*Content Warning Reminder : eating disorders, body image, fat phobia, sexual fetishizing

“I’d spend hours hunting for something—anything—that would render me moderately fuckable. And if not fuckable, something in which I could grieve over the fact of not being fuckable with unbaubled dignity."

“Later on I'm going to be really fucking beautiful. I'm going to grow into that nose and develop an eating disorder. I'll be hungry and angry all my life but I'll also have a hell of a time.”

“My father has always felt that being fat was a choice. When I was in college I would sometimes meet him for lunch or coffee, and he would stare at my extra flesh like it was some weird piece of clothing I was wearing just to annoy him. Like my fat was an elaborate turban or Mel’s zombie tiara or some anarchy flag that, in my impetuous youth, I was choosing to hold up and wave in his face. Not really part of me, just something I was doing to rebel, prove him wrong."

“There was always that shadowy twin, thin when I was fat, fat when I was thin, myself in silvery negative, with dark teeth and shining white pupils glowing in the black sunlight of that other world." - Margaret Atwood

[limeade-l3sbian]

this is gonna sound weird but is there any hope for overweight women attracted to other women? i NEVER see, online or irl, ssa women who are overweight in relationships unless it’s like buff overweight. and i’ve seen so much extreme fatphobia in the lesbian and bisexual woman community. obviously no one is forced to date a fat chick. but i just feel like it’s so hopeless? like the beauty standards within ssa communities at times seem almost worse. either be buff and butch, thin and masc, slim thick or petite and hyper feminine…

we must be living in completely different communities lol

not trying to downplay your concerns but to be perfectly honest, i've seen a lot of fat lesbians and bisexual women (myself included, lmao) happy, dating, in relationships, etc.. I'm gonna have to hard disagree that fatphobia is worse than osa communities just because that's just flatly not true.

overweight women have plenty of hope finding love with other women.

[atplblog]

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[silvaurum]

Not sure if this is adding to the conversation in any meaningful way-- but I saw your post on fat pleasure vs fat fetishizing. I'm a fetishist. I didn't want to post in the comments because honestly there was a lot of anti-fetishist activity there as people took that as agreeing with you.

I, too, agree with your point that bodies should just be bodies and attraction should just be attraction without a knee-jerk reaction to "diagnose" it. Attraction is usually not that deep and people are wrong for diagnosing or "explaining/justifying."

I don't know your experience with other fetishists, but to me it seems like these accusations probably come from outsiders? Possibly? People with anti-fat bias trying to justify or explain (multitasking to denigrating as well) why the attraction exists. Because we all know fetish is a slur. I just wonder if there's a way to prove your point without reconfirming anti-fetish biases.

The difference between kinksters and fetishists is that fetishists do not have a choice-- most literally cannot climax without the item/partiality etc. and go to therapy to try to cure themselves or never discuss it with a partner and gain satisfaction purely online.

To me, the fetish is extreme but also not that different from people who have partiality in general bodies. For shoulders or hands or torsos. It's part and partial of a body and of attraction to it and the person.

There's always a person there. Maybe I'm more or less extreme but imo I'm a fetishist through and through. I've dated people and told them. Some hilariously have not believed me. Others think it's very interesting but also can't wrap their heads around it. It's hard to navigate but always surprising.

I don't know what I'm trying to say but I think it's mostly that I don't think fetishists are the enemy here-- I have a quirky, nuanced attraction to people and when I see thick thighs I think there's something lovely in the world and go about my day. I think if I may, the real enemy is the people trying to define attraction in a way that excluded certain (beautiful, big) bodies and also fetishists.

But I also make space and apologize if anyone's been a fetishist and freaky to you on the Internet. People can be nasty about sex period.

i assume you're talking about the one viral post i have rn? cuz yeah honestly, i worded that post to be neutral to 'fetishizing' because like. i don't actually care if someone is attracted to my fatness in a kink or fetish way if they are respectful in real life. yk? like yes there are people who are disrespectful to the subjects of their fetish, but that's not because of the fetish. might as well say the average straight man has a 'fetish' for women at that point. like that's just misogyny/disrespect/whatever.

& i agree that like other peoples experiences and boundaries around that are valid ttly. i get why people can feel objectified & yeah there's some fatphobic themes that i don't like in some aspects of those spaces but like. welcome to every kink community: there's some problems. (& also welcome to every society: there's some problems.)

so i put 'um but what if thats a FETISH' in the same category as 'um youre GLORIFYING obesity'. and the category is pointless concern trolling that i do not need to care about. so what if someone likes my fat belly because they have a fetish? ok? are they cool to me as a person? ok cool. i will take 3 million fat fetishists who think i'm sexy as fuck and still respect me over 1 dipshit concern troll who cries if i say i like my belly. its about autonomy and respecting my ability to participate fully in society while fat. personally ive never had fetishists threaten my ability to get healthcare or diminish my worth as a person or try to convince me that being sexy as fuck was a mental and moral failing lol. so i cannot care that they... think im sexy as fuck. lol good. correct.

and yes your anaylsis is correct that people go 'fat fetish' to all attraction to fat people anyway because they feel uncomfortable if they don't 'explain' non-normative attraction existing. pretending it must be pathological or immoral or misdirected or something when the tiny sad machine that enforces social norms can't narrow us down. the anxiety when faced with potentially recognizing the many facets and spectrums of humanities wonderful and weird sexualities and pleasures, and that the 'natural' 'default' categories of attraction are neither.

much love to you anon ✌️🏼