#but if you are not a lesbian that's fine

[eeuwigestilte]

how much fear and slander of the label lesbian can one take of a dear friend who is questioning

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

[inkskinned]

the thing is that they're so fascinated by sex, they love sex, they can't imagine a world without sex - they need sex to sell things, they need sex to be part of their personality, they need sex to prove their power - but they hate sex. they are disgusted by it.

sex is the only thing that holds their attention, and it is also the thing that can never be discussed directly.

you can't tell a child the normal names for parts of their body, that's sexual in nature, because the body isn't a body, it's a vessel of sex. it doesn't matter that it's been proven in studies (over and over) that kids need to know the names of their genitals; that they internalize sexual shame at a very young age and know it's 'dirty' to have a body; that it overwhelmingly protects children for them to have the correct words to communicate with. what matters is that they're sexual organs. what matters is that it freaks them out to think about kids having body parts - which only exist in the context of sex.

it's gross to talk about a period or how to check for cancer in a testicle or breast. that is nasty, illicit. there will be no pain meds for harsh medical procedures, just because they feature a cervix.

but they will put out an ad of you scantily-clad. you will sell their cars for them, because you have abs, a body. you will drip sex. you will ooze it, like a goo. like you were put on this planet to secrete wealth into their open palms.

they will hit you with that same palm. it will be disgusting that you like leather or leashes, but they will put their movie characters in leather and latex. it will be wrong of you to want sexual freedom, but they will mark their success in the number of people they bed.

they will crow that it's inappropriate for children so there will be no lessons on how to properly apply a condom, even to teens. it's teaching them the wrong things. no lessons on the diversity of sexual organ growth, none on how to obtain consent properly, none on how to recognize when you feel unsafe in your body. if you are a teenager, you have probably already been sexualized at some point in your life. you will have seen someone also-your-age who is splashed across a tv screen or a magazine or married to someone three times your age. you will watch people pull their hair into pigtails so they look like you. so that they can be sexy because of youth. one of the most common pornography searches involves newly-18 young women. girls. the words "barely legal," a hiss of glass sand over your skin.

barely legal. there are bills in place that will not allow people to feel safe in their own bodies. there are people working so hard to punish any person for having sex in a way that isn't god-fearing and submissive. heteronormative. the sex has to be at their feet, on your knees, your eyes wet. when was the first time you saw another person crying in pornography and thought - okay but for real. she looks super unhappy. later, when you are unhappy, you will close your eyes and ignore the feeling and act the role you have been taught to keep playing. they will punish the sex workers, remove the places they can practice their trade safely. they will then make casual jokes about how they sexually harass their nanny.

and they love sex but they hate that you're having sex. you need to have their ornamental, perfunctory, dispassionate sex. so you can't kiss your girlfriend in the bible belt because it is gross to have sex with someone of the same gender. so you can't get your tubes tied in new england because you might change your mind. so you can't admit you were sexually assaulted because real men don't get hurt, you should be grateful. you cannot handle your own body, you cannot handle the risks involved, let other people decide that for you. you aren't ready yet.

but they need you to have sex because you need to have kids. at 15, you are old enough to parent. you are not old enough to hear the word fuck too many times on television.

they are horrified by sex and they never stop talking about it, thinking about it, making everything unnecessarily preverted. the saying - a thief thinks everyone steals. they stand up at their podiums and they look out at the crowd and they sign a bill into place that makes sexwork even more unsafe and they stand up and smile and sign a bill that makes gender-affirming care illegal and they get up and they shrug their shoulders and write don't say gay and they get up, and they make the world about sex, but this horrible, plastic vision of it that they have. this wretched, emotionless thing that holds so much weight it's staggering. they put their whole spine behind it and they push and they say it's normal!

this horrible world they live in. disgusted and also obsessed.

[frodo-a-gogo]

Let us be brutally honest with ourselves and with eachother for a moment. If he weren't obese you motherfuckers would be capable of percieving evrart claires sexy sexy moral ambiguity and complex charms

[seraphicsentences]

here’s a post dedicated to abby’s arms. why? because i said so.

and yes, they’re pretty much all nsfw. enjoy the visual! (i certainly am 🤭)

✂️ ok but imagine just watching abby’s biceps flex and ripple under her skin as she pumps her fingers into you, bumping against that sensitive spongy spot inside of you, working you towards your fourth orgasm of the night (so extremely motivated by your fucked-out mewls). no wonder she’s so buff. she’s exercising days and nights. ;)

✂️ thinking bout abby catching you watching her workout. you watching her do bicep curls specifically. oh lord, the pump her muscles get when she’s done (as if they could get any bigger)… and the way she grits her teeth while working an extra long set. you could get off on the heavy breaths she lets out alone. and she knows certainly knows it. you can tell by the haughty smirk plastered on her face as she eyes you inconspicuously staring.

✂️ but also just the way she’s so so strong but so very gentle with you is honestly the most attractive thing. she’d do anything you ask in a heartbeat, but just as easily put you in your place.

✂️ and the fact that she’s so strong really contributes to the appeal when you have her tied up. seeing such a big girl unable to move, massive arms pulled up tight around her head, flexing with every move as she twists and turns in pleasure, knowing you have that much power over someone whose figure is so dominating… yeah that’ll do it.

✂️ sweet jesus and when you’re sitting on her face, riding away like there’s no tomorrow, sensitive clit raw and red from the constant stimulation against her nose— abby’s just as turned on as you are, if not more. she’s feasting away from below you, tongue prodding at your dripping hole. she knows your legs are about to give out, she can tell by their trembling, and it’s like she’s been waiting for this moment. her arms are at your waist and quite literally holding up your entire body weight, making sure you’re still getting the pleasure she wants you to, and fuck if that isn’t the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced.

✂️ or what about when she’s incredibly busy, you know, studying to be a doctor and all, and can’t exactly divert her attention to help you out when you’re feeling all desperate and horny? i mean she could offer you her thigh, but what are all those hours at the gym for? without even a glance, she sticks out an arm instead, and you silently thank god a moment later when your clit catches perfectly on her tricep, causing a suppressed moan to bubble out from the back of your throat— and abby to raise a teasing eyebrow in your direction. (only when you finish does abby really turn to you, saying “clean it.” and relishing in the way your tongue laps up her arm, gathering slick and making a further mess of yourself in the process).

well this was one fucking ramble. i am and will always be a proud slut for abby anderson’s arms.

[troyandabedsnewapartment]

YOU LIE AND I STAY, AGAIN AND AGAIN.

1. letters of sylvia plath | 2. i know im not the only one, sam smith | 3. cut, caitlyn siehl | 4. ask polly: help, im the loneliest person in the world!, heather havrilesky | 5. cool about it, boygenius | 6. driving east (2002), helen frankenthaler | 7. motion sickness, phoebe bridgers | 8. wishbone, richard siken | 9. bicho 87/9 (1987), gego | 10. gilded lily, cults

[beanghostprincess]

me: all sanji fics are the same! it's always sanji having a breakdown over liking a man and going into an identity crisis and a spiral of internalized homophobia-

also me every time i read a sanji fic: OH MY GOD SANJI HAVING A BREAKDOWN OVER LIKING A MAN AND GOING INTO AN IDENTITY CRISIS AND A SPIRAL OF INTERNALIZED HOMOPHOBIA THIS IS SO GOOD AWKEBFNALKEWNFLKANELKN

[robindaydream]

A Few Days After A SLARPG fancomic

minor SLARPG spoilers contained within

[m3lodyxo]

Alright before I go and start my essay I need to get this off my mind.

Mizu and Archer!reader where they're staying in an inn or brothel and they both sense someone coming to attack them but before Mizu can draw her blade and go for the kill reader leaps at her, pinning her down to the floor, straddling her lap and whispering "Don't, I think they carry guns." but before she can argue back and object, saying she's perfectly capable of dealing with it reader draws her bow and arrow, fully concentrated, ignoring her and STILL STRADDLING HER.

Mizu just gawking at her, eyes wide, mouth slightly open in shock. Girl doesn't even know if she should be insulted or thankful you're thinking about her safety. She definitely feels her stomach doing a flip. Her hands instinctively placed on reader’s hips.

Poor woman is loosing her marbles. Reader releases the arrow and a grunt is heard, followed by a body falling to the floor a few seconds later.

When they go to inspect the body she's just starring in shock because how the fuck did you manage to strike a fatal blow like then when you couldn't even see through the screen? Mizu is well aware of your talent in archery but goddamn woman, what kind of sorcery is this? She's impressed and maybe slightly aroused.

Yeah.... I think I need professional help.

[redysetdare]

"This fandom is so queer friendly!" This fandom literally hates, bisexual, trans, nonbinary, and aspec people but ok.

[napping-sapphic]

Screaming crying throwing up thinking about how i’m not every girl’s type

[ducksandboots]

theyre back (thank you for the best way of announcing it @amazingphil and @danielhowell )

[inkskinned]

so one of the things that's so horrifying about birth control is that you have to, like, navigate this incredibly personal choice about your body and yet also face the epitome of misogyny. like, someone in the comments will say it wasn't that bad for me, and you'll be utterly silenced. like, everyone treats birth control like something that's super dirty. like, you have no fucking information or control over this thing because certain powerful people find it icky.

first it was the oral contraceptives. you went on those young, mostly for reasons unrelated to birth control - even your dermatologist suggested them to control your acne. the list of side effects was longer than your arm, and you just stared at it, horrified.

it made you so mentally ill, but you just heard that this was adulthood. that, yes, there are of course side effects, what did you expect. one day you looked up yasmin makes me depressed because surely this was far too intense, and you discovered that over 12,000 lawsuits had been successfully filed against the brand. it remains commonly prescribed on the open market. you switched brands a few times before oral contraceptives stopped being in any way effective. your doctor just, like, shrugged and said you could try a different brand again.

and the thing is that you're a feminist. you know from your own experience that birth control can be lifesaving, and that even when used for birth control - it is necessary healthcare. you have seen it save so many people from such bad situations, yourself included. it is critical that any person has access to birth control, and you would never suggest that we just get rid of all of it.

you were a little skeeved out by the implant (heard too many bad stories about it) and figured - okay, iud. it was some of the worst pain you've ever fucking experienced, and you did it with a small number of tylenol in your system (3), like you were getting your bikini line waxed instead of something practically sewn into your body.

and what's wild is that because sometimes it isn't a painful insertion process, it is vanishingly rare to find a doctor that will actually numb the area. while your doctor was talking to you about which brand to choose, you were thinking about the other ways you've been injured in your life. you thought about how you had a suspicious mole frozen off - something so small and easy - and how they'd numbed a huge area. you thought about when you broke your wrist and didn't actually notice, because you'd thought it was a sprain.

your understanding of pain is that how the human body responds to injury doesn't always relate to the actual pain tolerance of the person - it's more about how lucky that person is physically. maybe they broke it in a perfect way. maybe they happened to get hurt in a place without a lot of nerve endings. some people can handle a broken femur but crumble under a sore tooth. there's no true way to predict how "much" something actually hurts.

in no other situation would it be appropriate for doctors to ignore pain. just because someone can break their wrist and not feel it doesn't mean no one should receive pain meds for a broken wrist. it just means that particular person was lucky about it. it should not define treatment.

in the comments of videos about IUDs, literally thousands of people report agony. blinding, nauseating, soul-crushing agony. they say things like i had 2 kids and this was the worst thing i ever experienced or i literally have a tattoo on my ribs and it felt like a tickle. this thing almost killed me or would rather run into traffic than ever feel that again.

so it's either true that every single person who reports severe pain is exaggerating. or it's true that it's far more likely you will experience pain, rather than "just a pinch." and yet - there's nothing fucking been done about it. it kind of feels like a shrug is layered on top of everything - since technically it's elective, isn't it kind of your fault for agreeing to select it? stop being fearmongering. stop being defensive.

you fucking needed yours. you are almost weirdly protective of it. yours was so important for your physical and mental health. it helped you off hormonal birth control and even started helping some of your symptoms. it still fucking hurt for no fucking reason.

once while recovering from surgery, they offered you like 15 days of vicodin. you only took 2 of them. you've been offered oxy for tonsillitis. you turned down opioids while recovering from your wisdom tooth extraction. everything else has the option. you fucking drove yourself home after it, shocked and quietly weeping, feeling like something very bad had just happened. the nurse that held your hand during the experience looked down at you, tears in her eyes, and said - i know. this is cruelty in action.

and it's fucked up because the conversation is never just "hey, so the way we are doing this is fucking barbaric and doctors should be required to offer serious pain meds" - it's usually something around the lines of "well, it didn't kill you, did it?"

you just found out that removing that little bitch will hurt just as bad. a little pinch like how oral contraceptives have "some" serious symptoms. like your life and pain are expendable or not really important. like maybe we are all hysterical about it?

hysteria comes from the latin word for uterus, which is great!

you stand here at a crossroads. like - this thing is so important. did they really have to make it so fucking dangerous. and why is it that if you make a complaint, you're told - i didn't even want you to have this in the first place. we're told be careful what you wish for. we're told that it's our fault for wanting something so illict; we could simply choose not to need medication. that maybe if we don't like the scraps, we should get ready to starve.

we have been saying for so long - "i'm not asking you to remove the option, i'm asking you to reconsider the risk." this entire time we hear: well, this is what you wanted, isn't it?

[seraphicsentences]

pleaseee could you write an abby anderson x weather girl reader where they’re at the WLF base and abby catches reader staring at her hehehe

IM SORRY FOR TAKING 100 YEARS TO WRITE THIS AND THEN DELIVERING THIS MID ASS PIECE. i do hope you enjoy though i love you babe 😚😚

tags: abby anderson x reader, abby anderson x weather girl, EXHIBITIONISM, cunnilingus (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving), kinda mean abby anderson? idk man, the whole WLF base is probably a lil traumatized

AN: thank you to @insanermin and @f3mme-f4tale for reviewing this for me i’m endlessly grateful for the two of you bless your beautiful souls. credits to my favorite girl for helping me come up with what to write for this request. i love youuuu

it was the crack of dawn, sun just barely peeking its way over the tops of WLF’s buildings, yet the heat was unbearable.

“83 fucking degrees Fahrenheit, jesus christ,” you muttered to yourself, checking the stationed thermometers posted around the perimeter.

the base was, for the most part, quiet. only few unlucky individuals working mindlessly at their respective morning assignments.

you strolled down your usual path, squinting at the streams of sunlight cast on the side of your face, dancing into your vision.

“hey weather girl,” a voice called from behind.

abby anderson. as if you even needed to turn around to recognize her unmistakable, raspy, teasing tone.

you whipped around, watching intently as abby bent out from under a stock-filled tent, arms filled.

“need some help?” you joked, stifling a giggle that arose when abby dipped abruptly to catch a bag of bait between her teeth.

what you wouldn’t give to be that bag of bait, you bit your lip, eyes trained on abby’s busy mouth.

hmphmpsh abby sarcastically laughed against the plastic, snapping you out of your dirty-minded haze and sending a flush across the back of your neck.

you meet her examining eyes, breath hitching as she squints slightly, a smirk etched into her gaze. embarrassed at the thought of her catching you, you open your mouth in attempt to sway the conversation— but she beats you to it, breaking the stare-down a beat later, spitting the bag out into a small pile on the wood deck.

god, you would let her spit bait into your mouth if she wanted.

“so what’re we at today? it’s gotta be at least 90 out,” abby wipes at her forehead, making small talk as she organizes the rest of the stock.

“try 83. though i wouldn’t be surprised if we do reach 90 once the sun is fully risen,” you reply, raising a hand to block some of pesky rays ruining your god-sent view.

“no fucking waaaay!” abby drags out, astounded. “we are definitely at 90 by now, do you see me? im drenched!”

so am i, you think to yourself.

“trust the expert. your body temperature’s just extra high from physical exertion. whoever put you on for outdoor stock at this hour has it out for you,” you comment, eyes dragging as abby lifts the bottom of her tank to wipe her face, revealing a rather impressive display of rock-solid abdominals.

you catch her gaze, this time her having an eyebrow raised, and immediately look away, the flush on your neck spreading to the tips of your ears. as hard as you tried not to stare, abby wasn’t doing much to help, especially not while decked out in a translucent white tank, black bra beneath a stark contrast, begging for your attention.

abby’s dark green cargos hugged her thighs deliciously, highlighting her thick, defined quads as she shifted about.

lifting a large sealed box of who knows what from one end of the deck to the other, she grunted under the weight, leaving your mind to wander yet again to a different sort of situation where you might find yourself blessed enough to hear that pretty sound.

“yeah, whatever- i’ll tru-trust the expert,” she breathes out, voice strained. strands of her blonde— almost golden in the sun— hair stuck to her face with sweat, which glistened perfectly on her skin, making abby look almost angelic as she crossed into the sun’s direct heat.

“yeah,” you exhaled, at a loss for words under the confines of her entrancing beauty. you stood there a second longer, before suddenly snapping out of your daze, clearing your throat. “i’m, uh, gonna head to the station, i think,” you stuttered, despite your usual propensity for word flow heard throughout the WLF base every morning.

“desperate to get rid of me?” abby faux gasps.

you sputtered at her accusation, “no-no, i-“

“shhhh-shhh, i know honey, i know,” she cuts you off, bitable lips curling up into a half-smirk.

traitorous feet already walking their way towards the radio station, you desperately try to recover from your embarrassment, tripping over your words, “i-you, uh,” you try.

abby twists her head over her shoulder in your direction, cocking it in a way that makes your heart twist in your chest and a pulse thrum between your thighs.

“you can come!” you blurt without a second thought. “with me— i mean, to the station,” you add, trying to clarify.

faced with an jaw-dropped confused-yet beautiful abby anderson, you continue rambling, “it’s indoors! i mean obviously, because of the, um, radio equipment, but you know, you’re probably hot— well you are, but- shit- that’s not what i-“

“okay, okay, okay,” abby bursts out chuckling, which you’d enjoy a whole lot more if it weren’t at your sake, “you don’t have to convince me, sweetheart, i’m already there,” she holds her hands up in surrender.

your heart skips a beat at the nickname, brain racing at a million miles per hour when you catch the sight of abby’s built frame sauntering it’s way over to you, small towel slung lazily over one shoulder, braid swaying slightly with every step.

you swallow harshly at her approach, turning promptly around to lead the way in a brisk pace.

abby laughs to herself as she follows, “aw, don’t run, i want to see your pretty face.”

your face heats at the compliment, before proceeding to flush a nuclear red at another comment she mutters haphazardly under her breath, “though i’m not complaining about my view from here.”

she half jogs to catch up with you, though your supposed speed-walk is no competition for what she’d consider a stroll with her long limbs.

you see her looking-no, ravishing- your figure out the corner of your eye, her tongue pressed to the side of her cheek, as you silently yell at your cheeks to cool themselves down.

your eyes can’t seem to deny themselves such an appeasing view, though, darting to the side to steal a glance at abby’s translucent tank, and your attraction is clear, at least to abby.

“want something, honey?”

you cough in response, choking on the saliva you didn’t even notice gather as a physical response to abby’s presence (me), as the two of you, thankfully, arrive at the station at last.

“ladies first,” you joke, swinging the door open with the backwards weight of your body.

“such a gentlemen,” abby quips back, winking at you as she strolls through the opening.

the pair of you let out a collective sigh at the blast of cold air blowing softly from the studio. it’s a vacant space, but the constant flow of electricity needed to notify the base in the face of an emergency allows it to stay up and running.

you make a beeline to your set-up area, tangled wires running along every side of the desks, hooked up to all sorts of peculiar devices: microphones, barometers, fancy thermometers. abby finds herself surprisingly impressed by the sophisticated knickknacks you mindlessly twist and turn to read, as if flipping through a toddler-level picture book.

“where’d you learn how to work all of this?” she asks.

“stole some books off an old lab,” you reply, shooting her a shy smile, “like to read, i s’ppose.”

across the room, abby rests her elbows on the table behind her, crossing her legs and letting her head drop to one side. “smart girl,” she praises, cheeky smile slipping onto her face.

you bite the fat of your cheek, holding back a grin of your own before turning back to finish jotting down the day’s data into a tattered mini notepad.

you grab a sleek broadcasting mic off one of your shelves, shoving some of the wires aside on the main desk to make room for it to rest, before hooking one of the tinier cables into the mic, and twisting around to find an audio interface to plug the other end into.

“what am i doing here?” abby says all of a sudden, breaking your hustling focus.

you freeze, letting the cable drop as you look down. “i don’t know.”

abby pauses. “let me rephrase,” she strolls over, positioning herself lush behind you. she runs her arms down the sides of your arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake in spite of it being blisteringly hot out.

“what do you want me to do here?” she rasps by your ear, your head subsequently tilting to feel the heat of her breath on your neck.

“i-i don’t kn-“

“yes you do. just like i know exactly the mess i’ll find under these itty bitty shorts of yours.” she whispers, “you’re a terrible liar, sweetheart.”

a whimper slips out from your lips, head rolling back onto abby’s shoulder as you meet her sharp eyes with your pleading ones. your legs cross, squeezing shut, humiliated by the arousal that had gathered in reaction to, what, a 5 minute conversation with her? how pathetic.

“don’t think i didn’t notice your ogling earlier,” she continues, tracing her big hands lighting across your stomach, feeling your skin rise and fall with your increasingly rapid breaths. “your eyes give you away. i know what’s going on in that pretty little mind up there.”

your lips part as you roll your head further, almost completing a circle. the way you’re faced, you’re breathing desperate huffs directly into abby’s own mouth. she grazes a hand up between your two breasts, hard and pointed from a combination of the room’s dropped temperature and your arousal, then sliding her grip gently around your neck, holding your face close in place.

“you think you can get away with those slutty thoughts of yours? makin’ everyone think you’re such a good innocent girl, but no, you’re just a fucking whore aren’t you? isn’t that right, pretty?” she presses, tsking at your averting gaze.

“eyes on me, honey. you can’t hide. tell me what you really what,” she says into your mouth, lips just barely brushing over your own, the fucking tease.

you pant, eyes glued to her tempting mouth, desperate to close the distance. but you’ve got a job to do, and what’s fun without a bit of teasing? she deserves a taste of her own medicine, the bitch.

“what i really want…” you whisper back, “is to tell the base how fucking hot it is today,” you say at a normal volume, pushing off her back, and finally plugging the mic into the audio interface.

“duty calls!” you joke, trying to calm your racing heart and ignore the dampness between your legs. you hook the final plug into the wall, hearing a whirring that lets you know everything’s ready to go, before stealing a quick glance at abby to see how she’s taking your unexpected change of demeanor.

abby stands frozen in place, mouth gaping, but tweaked into an almost-smile, evidently shocked. your stomach flutters at the hungry look in her green, now nearly black, pupils, roguish thoughts brewing.

you bring a hand to your heart, dropping your jaw to match hers as you shoot a mocking who me? look in her direction paired with a shrug. winking, you turn back to your morning duties and take a seat, tuning in the frequency.

a click of a switch, an automated voice, and that’s all there really is to it. you’re live.

and your heart’s pounding out of your chest.

and though you’re usually hit with the slightest bit of anxiety over the idea of being listened to by every single individual on the very base, that’s not what you’re thinking about. well, not exactly.

“good morning, WLF!” you chirp, standard lines slipping off your tongue with ease, “hope you all had a great night’s rest! i know i sure did. today is august 2nd, 2038, and boy, you guys in for a sweat today! let’s check in with sophie and see what she has to say— sophie, you’re on!”

shaking out a breath, you click a button to tune in a livestream from the second weather station across the base, sophie’s station.

“hey girl, what’s up?” sophie’s cherry voice comes crackling through.

“the usual. wanna tell us how things have been looking on your end?”

“you betcha! good morning WLF, you heard it from our girl yourselves, it is goddamn hot out! my readings say that…” sophie continues, rattling off her collected data in a long, number-filled ramble.

you tune out, waiting for your cue to list your end’s data as you bounce your leg mindlessly up and down.

“oh you’ve really got everyone fooled, huh?” abby drawls behind you. you jump, temporarily forgetting her presence in the midst of your reporting.

you swivel your chair around to her, smiling cheekily as you press a finger to her lips in silence’s universal sign.

oh? abby mouths. we’re still live? she asks.

you nod your head slowly.

“then you’re gonna have to keep quiet for me sweetheart,” she leans in to whisper at a decibel just barely above zero. “unless you want everyone on base to know how much of a slut you are,” she adds, dropping to her knees before you.

“what are you-?!” you whisper hastily, stopping yourself to mutter lowly, “i’m the slut? look who’s on their fucking knees in a fucking radio station.”

she presses a chaste kiss to your thigh, smiling and shhhhing against your skin, mumbling, “shut up and focus. the base depends on you.”

with even just the lightest brush of abby’s buff frame against your knees, your legs fall open, beckoning her between them.

invisible hands to pulling her into your trap.

“abby,” is all you can get out, panting in need of her touch.

“focus, baby.”

she pulls your shorts and underwear down to the floor with a swift tug, smirk haughty as faced with your dripping mess.

“knew it,” she mouths, looking up devilishly at you. keeping your eyes trapped in her hypnotic gaze, she leans in slowly, tongue out, to catch your weeping pussy in a french kiss.

“fuck,” you breathe out, thighs trembling in resistance to clamp her head between them only just to keep her tongue against you.

she makes out sloppily with your folds, hands gripping your waist tightly to lock your body in place, pressing you firm against the chair despite your incessant squirming.

the point of her tongue traces down in a tease, slipping just barely into your pulsing hole to steal a taste of freshly dripped slick, before running it back upwards to firmly press into your neglected clit.

“ah!” you hiss, head thrown to the ceiling as your nails dig into the arms of the chair, hips attempting to buck further into abby’s warm mouth.

“you there, station one? i think the connection’s a bit warbly today,” a crackly voice interrupts your mind fog.

shit. sophie must’ve finished her report by now. you situate yourself up as best as you can— seeing as how abby won’t let go of your hips, or move away for that matter.

“hey sophie, yes i’m here! sorry ‘bout that, i-uh, yeah. there must be something up with the frequency today,” you sputter out.

“no worries! why don’t you go ahead and share your mornings data with us?” she laughs back.

“yeah, yeah, so my rea-fuck-“

you sharply take in a breath, sucking in your teeth. you look down. god, if that isn’t the hottest sight you’ve ever seen.

abby’s looking up through her eyelashes, your arousal smeared across the bottom half of her face, dripping to her chin. she dashes out a tongue to catch the corner of her mouth, smirk wolfish from her mischievous actions. she lifts an eyebrow, matching your prior who me? mock, as if she didn’t just set every nerve ending of your clit alight.

and while you could be absolutely furious with her for fucking with you on live, all you want from her is more.

“everything alright, station 1?”

you jump. “i-sorry- just, uh banged my knee up.” you mean to shoot a scolding look at abby, but just wound it up to be embarrassingly pleading.

she pouts sarcastically, and without breaking eye contact she bows in again to capture your puffy clit between her lips, sucking softly while flicking her tongue over and over again. it’s downright sinful.

“oh!” you whine, right hand darting to tug at abby’s braid, keeping her moving face moving against the place you need her most.

“um, station 1, i can take over if you’d like?”

your face flames. caught up in abby’s dizzying ministrations, your body’s screaming to say yes. yes, as in, yes sophie please fucking take over. and yes, as in, yes abby right there.

and you almost do, say yes to the first one, i mean. but a stinging pinch from abby tips you the other way.

“i, shit, sorry- i mean, yeah, sorry. sorry kids! don’t listen to me!” you babble, eyebrows scrunched and hips still grinding.

abby continues to torture your clit: her warm, wet tongue lapping up every last drop of your slick and pressing it rhythmically against that swollen button. your cunt tightens around nothing, desperate for something, anything, to fill ‘er up.

shit, you mutter to yourself, thrumming pussy impossible to ignore. “the temp-ah-temperature o-on my end read 83 degrees on my e-enndd-god,” you carry on, breathless, “ahem. we’re looking at clear, s-sunny skies all day, so be sure to wear some sort of- mmph- heat protectant,” you finish off your sentence sounding quite a bit more like a pornstar doing a dirty beach-scene than intended, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“give me one, uh, one sec-cond to double check the read- readings,” you stumble out quickly.

“no problem! while we wait on our girl, WLF, i’ll tell you about what last minute assignments we still need people for, so listen up…” sophie entertains.

“abby,” you whine, covering the mic with your free hand in attempt to muffle your sounds. you can barely form a sentence with the way her nose nudges your clit while her tongue runs zig zags along your folds.

“i know,” she cooes, chucking, “keep it down, you’re on live.”

you silently will yourself not to cry out when abby stretches your legs further apart, shaking her head left and right to stimulate every crevice of your weeping cunt. back arching off the chair, you whimper out a strangled noise, “i cant, i cant, i cant” you chant.

abby’s drags turn to kisses, watching your legs tremble with an endearing gaze as she makes her way up your stomach and to your face. pressing a kiss against your cheek, then your nose, and alas, your parted lips, she whispers, “this is what you wanted, wasn’t it? so shut up and be good for me, yeah baby?”

you nod feverishly, heavy-lidded and staring intoxicated as abby bites bruises into your neck, only to soothe it a moment later with a flat-striped lick of her tongue.

“mmm god, abby, i need you,” you practically slur out, moaning her name like a ritual.

“you’ve got me,” is all she says. her calloused hand slides up from the bottom of your shirt, squeezing your breast harshly, as if she can’t get enough, needing to completely ravish you.

“here, abby, need you here,” you groan, emphasizing it with the buck of your hips.

“alright, alright,” she shushes you with a kiss, hand sliding back down to cup your heat gently, feeling your desperation. “right here, huh? you aching for it, sweetheart?”

your only response is to catch her lips in a needy kiss, tongue pushing into her mouth, eager to taste yourself on abby.

hmmph abby groans against your lips, fingers dipping shallowly into your coated hole.

“you can scream my name as loud as you want once you finish your report.“

“but-“

“you don’t want to let the base down, do you? how else are we supposed to know how dripping hot it’s gonna be out today?” she murmurs, emphasizing her words with a push of her thick fingers deeper into you.

your eyebrows scrunch, vision dizzy with need as you look up at the sight before you. a pretty pink hue glazing her sun kissed cheeks, abby tilts her head, finding delight in your struggle to come back to reality.

“c’mon, honey, you got it,” she purrs, running a hand to push the hair away from your face.

you narrow your eyes, pushing majority of the fog to a corner of your mind and uncovering your shaky hand from off the mic.

“sorry about that, folks,” you shakily speak up, “-and thanks soph. i’ll be out of your hair in just a second. as for today, we seem to be getting a light breeze coming in from the east at about 8 miles per hour, so it might hopefully provide a little bit of relief from the heat.”

in the meanwhile, abby hoists your figure up off the chair, shorts and panties still hooked askew around one of your ankles. a hitch in your voice signals your end’s confusion, but you continue on regardless, slave to abby’s actions.

she pushes your torso over slightly, having you put most of your weight on the desk as you hover over your mic, hair flicked over one shoulder.

“as for the air quality, it’s testing to be relatively clear. the spores don’t seem to be getting passed over by the wind, so no need to worry with the masks today! i’ll check in in the afternoon to see if that’s cha- nhghh,” you jolt forward, voice breaking and hips hitting the table as abby thrusts two fingers tightly into your heat from behind, twisting them to reach that ridged, aching spot.

“-changed,” you correct, exhaling sharply. your eyes roll involuntarily as abby picks up her pace, curling her fingers on every outstroke, other hand delivering languid circles to your puffy clit. you can feel the burn of her stare down your spine, head turning over your shoulder briefly to confirm, and catching sight of the two of you in the mirror on the back wall.

your flushed face, rumpled top, and trembling, kiltered, bent over position contrasted with abby’s working muscles as she stood strongly gripping your waist was a sight to behold.

“what would you do if i made you scream for me right now?” abby breathes out, grunting. “should we let the base know how much of a slut you are for me?” she asks, “fuck your special spot real good in front of everyone? right here?” she punctuates with a downright sinful massage against your g-spot.

she huffs out a quiet laugh when you rush to stifle a whimper against your forearm.

“nah, i think i’ll keep you for myself,” she says, tugging you by your hair to hiss “you’re mine.”

your legs nearly collapse right on the spot.

“like that, huh? now be good for me baby. you can take it,” she says lowly by your ear, fisting your hair back even more to take in your disheveled state before shoving your head down nose to nose with the mic.

you grip onto the stand in attempt to ground yourself. fucking abby.

“for now you sh-should be okay withou-ooout a mask on hand t-though,” you stumble through your words, racing to finish the report. “our trusty barom-meter indicates stable conditions— so i g-guess that means the- mmph- the world isn’t gonna expl-plode today?”

you fall to your forearms, losing balance with the aggressiveness of abby’s thrusts, walls clinging to her fingers, as if not to let a second by without her magic touch. abby kicks a leg between your two, sliding one to the side to spread you further before her as she slips a third finger in easily. your lips parts in a silent scream, hand racing to stuff it’s knuckle in your mouth to bite down on.

nails digging into the table, and mind begging forgiveness from god for all the fucking sin you’re committing, you speed

through a shitty conclusion, “overall, it’s a g-great day to sweat. that’s all i’ve got for you to-today. stay safe, stay cool, and enjoy the sun! bye!”

you rip the cord out of the audio interface before you can get the entirety of your final word out, loud moans borderline pornographic from being held back for so long.

“aw, you didn’t enjoy having an audience?” abby teases, fingers speeding up to coax more of your sounds out.

“fuck you, abby,” you gasp out, collapsing face-against-the-desk in pleasure.

“it’s okay, honey, your drenched pussy answers my question— i mean, look at you dripping right down my fingers,” she rasps, pinching your clit meanly.

god, you wanted to shove her fucking face into your cunt. at least that would get her to shut up.

“abby, i’m gonna-!” you cry, knees threatening to buckle.

“show me, pretty girl. fucking come all over my hand,” she spreads your sticky folds with a spare finger, swiping at the edges to effectively stimulate every part of your core.

you buck your hips back with every thrust, desperate to finish as you scream abby’s name like it’s the only word you know.

“fuck,” abby curses under her breath, arm curling around your front to hold your crumbling body up, hands busy bringing you to heaven. she wanted to live in this moment.

“ah- god, abs!” you weep, forehead digging into cables as you shudder in ecstasy, cum dribbling out of your overworked pussy, coating abby’s hands in your mess.

“god, abs,” you repeat between gasps, slowly regaining your vision back as abby lifts you up to lean your sweating figure against her matching one.

“so much for escaping the heat, huh?”

~ man oh man i tried guys. hope this satiated your weather girl needs ;)

[joejoeba]

[likeatattokiss]

if translated to real queer problems, apple white’s fear of not having her destiny fulfilled and the neglecting of her desires and sexuality in order to get what all the power figures in her life want FROM her (such as obedience and following a role she was groomed to fit in) would have been the religious guilt people who possibly grew up hearing what they had to believe in felt when thinking about your sexuality, as well as the panic of not fitting in or disrespecting adults.

her fear of getting hurt or seeing her friends suffering for not following the book of legends translated into the fear of hell and punishments, paired with the thoughts about “if i am also lgbt, that means i can just as easily get hurt, judged or condemned by society”. especially coming from a girl who was supposed to be perfect

in this essay i will—