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submalevolentgrace · 2 years

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if i say "the queer community", i am referring to the community of self identified queers. if you're not a self identified queer, then i wasn't talking about you!

"i don't like to be called queer because it hurt me!" cool, fine, whatever. the word gay hurt me, i get it. but see, i didn't actually call you queer, i was talking about, and this might be difficult to follow; people who like being queer! that's why i said "queer community", to refer to the broad community of queers.

"but i'm gay/lesbian/bi/ace/whatever and i don't like it being used as an umbrella term!" okay, cool. if someone forces you under an umbrella you don't like that sure does suck! i hate being forced under the "LBGT+" umbrella myself. i absolutely loathed "trans*", i get it, trust me. i would like to draw your attention to the fact that i just said "queer community", which explicit in text and implicit in meaning, refers to a community of people... bare with me here.... people who are queer. if you do not consider yourself queer.... then it wasn't about you. it was about me and my community.

"but i know what group you're talking about and it applies to me too!" okay but you see that, you see that you're putting yourself under the umbrella there right? and then complaining about it, right? it's not my fault you decided it was about you? you're always going "it's okay for you to use, but" and then attack us when we do use it for ourselves, by shoving yourself under an imagined umbrella of your construction, hurting us in the shove, and then screaming like you were forced in here.

"but it's a--" listen.

listen to me.

you might think i'm being obstinant and maybe i am a little! but i'm trying to illuminate a point here. you've constructed an idea in your head of "us" as a monolith, a singular group that you want covered by a singular umbrella with a singular term; and you've decided that this "us" group - including you - is who i'm talking about right now, and then you've gotten shitty at me for using a word you don't like for an idea you projected over my words.

but here's the secret: there is no singular group like that. there is no monolith. there is no singular cohesive "us". there's just people, individuals with infinite experiences and selves and sexualities and genders and loves and all these beautiful things, and sometimes when we're similar enough we band together into groups and pick labels; gay, trans, queer, rainbow, whatever. these are just names, names for imagined groups, imagined groups with fake made up boundaries! people will argue there are definitions, gay means this, lesbian means that; but people will always disagree, so the names expand and the groups get broader. msm, wlw, bi, pan, genderqueer, rainbow quiltbag alphabet soup!

and you can expand and contact and refine and broaden but you will never cover everyone. at some point, you have to just accept letting people self define, and decide if they want to be in the group. if you have a "gay" group, the socially straight msm will get shitty at being called gay and it's not the fault of either the gays or the word "gay" that they're not included! people will expand and stretch and redefine and shrink, all these groups and labels will ebb and flow as different people have different needs and want to include - and exclude!- different people for their communities.

but some of "us", many generations ago, got sick and tired of constantly redefining labels and groups and decided to pick a nice word for ourselves and welcome anyone who liked it to use it, and that's queer. maybe it was already a slur that we reclaimed, maybe it was already our word before it became a slur, maybe it was just common slang for someone a little unusual and oddball and we liked that! historians both academic and communal disagree! it doesn't even matter, it's our word; "our" being anyone who likes it. if you like "queer" and want to be queer and respect the existing queers, you're welcome. and generation after generation, we pass it on for anyone to use, to say: it's okay not to box yourself in, it's okay not to define yourself down to the molecule, it's okay to be free, to come and go, to love and be whatever. it's our sanctuary. you are queer if you want to be queer. that is the gift that was given to me by the queers that came before me, i will gift it in turn to anyone that wants to carry it forwards. not everyone has to be queer, but we chose to be.

and you motherfuckers.

you motherfuckers keep smashing through the windows of our sanctuary, declaring it to be your umbrella, scream about slurs like we've never been hurt in our lives, and then hurl violence and vitriol at us because you personally hate being inside our sanctuary and want the entire structure destroyed and rebuilt for you.

fuck you.

i suffered through years of torment and abuse being called gay and having it spat at me with hate, being berated in church for questioning love, being screamed at and beaten by family and classmates and having them spit - literally - the word gay at me. i suffered through it, i survived it, i flourished to spite it and was embraced by queers who taught me love for myself and gave me safe sanctuary in this beautiful, ambiguous word, and you don't get to take that away from me.

if i say "us queers" and you come at me about how it hurts you and start yelling about umbrellas and slurs: 1) i wasn't fucking talking about you, 2) you're not part of my community and don't get to tell me what i call it, and 3) you are the fucking problem here, you are the one doing the hurting right now.

when you come into my community of queers and tell me that our sanctuary is "a slur", you are indistinguishable to me from the people spitting "gay" as they beat me.

if you're gay as in happy, you're free to be that and i won't stop you or tell you your whole core is a slur. you pick whatever umbrella you want to imagine for yourself, and i'll probably chose not to stand under it.

because i am queer. as in fuck. you.

and you will have to kill me to stop me being queer

#sometimes anger is better out than in

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andersonfilms · 7 months

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BEGGING for more milf!reader x sub!abby 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 please please PLEASE 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️ (maybe with a lil bit of a breeding kink if you’re into that) take your time love <33

†⠀❝ HEART TO HEART II ❞ ✶ ABBY ANDERSON !

"YOUNGER!ABBY HEADCANNONS"

♱

★⠀warning y disclaimers — eighteen+, nsfw content, wlw, fem!reader, age gap vague, abby is early twenties, younger!abby, uhal!lesbian vibe, mommy!kink, tw breeding kink, reader has a kid, dom!reader, sub!abby, strap (abby!), oral (abby!r), fingering (abby!r), poc!friendly, nipple play, reader is a mom.

RAYNE RAMBLES ★ thank u so much sweet angel for asking so sweetly. this has teken me longer than intended, but better late than never, right? breeding kink? are u kidding? now, ur speaking my language. hope this is as lovely as you are. if you like, don't forget to reblog!

younger!abby who can't stop thinking of the first night she spends with you.

younger!abby who can't get your addicting moans out of her head. they play on an endless loop in her mind and she wants to keep them there forever.

younger!abby who swears, even if it's only been one lovely night, she swears she about to tip over the line of love.

younger!abby who never had been manhandled until that very night with you.

Abby thought she was in control - she should've known better. It taken only a moment for your firm hands gripping her hips, maneuvering her weight until you were on top of her.

"It's all for show, huh? These perfectly sculpted arms, your chiseled abs, and don't even get me started on this face. I bet all the girls just fall at your feet."

younger!abby who blushed even more, unable to contain her reaction at each compliment rolling off your tongue.

younger!abby who wanted to tell you there wasn't other girls, but the words died on her tongue when you dragged her into the bedroom.

younger!abby who moaned softly when you played with the end of her braid, your fingers smoothing over the blonde strands.

younger!abby likes the fact you had managed to pull at what she loves most the first night in.

younger!abby who can't help the bubbling feeling in the pit of her stomach as you look at her with those goddamn eyes of yours. you were more breathtaking than should be allowed.

younger!abby who watches with a careful eye as you stepped away from her body, shoving your dress until it pools at your feet.

younger!abby who can't help put purr at you, everything on display for her greedy eyes.

younger!abby is infatuated and absolutely lost for words as she looks at you.

younger!abby who can't believe how sexy you are and can't believe you, a descendent from Aphrodite herself, could want her.

younger!abby whose heart stops as you don't walk to her. No. Not yet - you're walking to your night stand.

younger!abby tries to keep her breathing under control as you bring out the strap.

younger!abby who can't help but feel her heart beating out of her chest.

"We don't have to do this you know. If you don't like being fucked like this, I can always put my mouth to good use." You offer, not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable. Abby loves how your soft voice carries across the room. The need she has for you only grows, begging for a taste.

younger!abby who feels your sweetness pull at her heart.

younger!abby who nods simply, but you don't take it as a sufficient response.

"If you want me to fuck you, you're going to have to say it, angel. Need to hear you say it."

younger!abby who fumbles the words past her lips as she's unable to take her eyes of you, but she manages to get it out.

younger!abby who feels the slick grow in between her thighs as she watches you put the strap on.

younger!abby who can't remember a time she felt this overwhelmed.

younger!abby who can't help but rub her thick thighs together in anticipation.

younger!abby who notices the smirk on your face and just how much you're enjoying teasing her.

younger!abby can only register a soft 'gotta work you open baby' and her boxers are gone.

younger!abby who usually doesn't like to be put on display like this, can't help but feel treasured as you look at her in awe.

younger!abby who loses it the moment she feels your teeth sink in her thighs, littering the punctured skin with sweet kisses.

younger!abby who doesn't know what to do with herself when all of your undivided attention is upon her.

younger!abby loves the way you have her thighs spread out, your body between them and there's no hesitation.

younger!abby who bucks her hips upwards as you give her everything she's been thinking about.

younger!abby who feels a shiver run up her spine as your tongue plays with your vulva, before flattening the muscle against your cunt.

younger!abby who tries to close her thighs around your head, but you won't let her.

"You have to keep this thick thighs open for me, baby. How else am I supposed to fuck this perfect cunt?"

younger!abby who could easily, physically over power you, but can't even imagine doing so. not when you're making her feel this good.

"If you need something to grab onto just pull on my hair." Stopping for a moment, you grab her big hands and Abby makes a makeshift ponytail, as suck on her clit.

younger!abby wonders how she has ever existed without you.

younger!abby loves you mouth, and every moan you let out as you fuck her pussy with her mouth.

younger!abby can't get get over the vibrations she feels and how you hump into the bed every time abby pulls your hair a little too hard.

younger!abby knows for a fact, she's only ever been vocal with you.

younger!abby feels her cunt gripping onto your fingers as you sink two fingers into her, and she can hear just how wet you've gotten her.

younger!abby who can't stop moaning at the feeling of your fingers fucking her and the louder she gets, the better you make her feel.

younger!abby can feel just how close she is, but then you remove your fingers and she feels empty.

younger!abby certainly can't control the whine she lets out. it's needy and carnal - it even hurts her throat a little but she really doesn't care.

"You're lucky my kid is a heavy sleeper, Abs. Or else, I'd have to punish you for it."

younger!abby who tried to at least appear guilty, but it's so hard when the only coherent thought in her mind is wanting to fuck your mouth.

younger!abby knows all she wants to feel is you, and now that you're depriving her of the need it feel like an unbearable weight to hold.

younger!abby who throws her head back when you start sinking your cock into her tight pussy.

younger!abby who feels so full with you inside her. she's trying to hold her moans in with your comment, but your first thrust pulls it right out of her.

younger!abby who is never the one who gets fucked, revels in how good it feels. knowing you wanted to fuck her already had sent her over the edge but god - you really knew how to fuck.

younger!abby who cries out your name as you pick up the pace, your cock hitting her in just the place she needs.

younger!abby who never wants you to stop, she always will crave to feel this forever. she doesn't care if it's dramatic, but you're taking care of her like no one else ever has.

"You're so loud for me. Aren't you?" You chuckle as Abby moans. "Sweet baby, never had her pussy fucked this good. All those stupid, young girls can't give you what mommy can, huh?"

"No, never like this - never this good." Abby swears as you lift, bending her leg over your shoulder, making her cock hit her even deeper. The place all her girlfriends never touched.

younger!abby whose eyes roll into the back of her head, unable to compute with pleasure you're giving her.

younger!abby nearly comes when the next sentence falls from your plump lips.

"Want to put a baby in you, Abs. God, you'd look so pretty." Your pace increasing, if it was even possible. "Would fuck all day and all night if that's what it took."

younger!abby knows it should've scared her off, but all she wants is to please you. nothing could stop the way her cunt grips on your cock like a vice.

"Anything for you. Need you to fill me up." Abby can't help but capturing your nipple in her mouth, teeth grazing the sensitive flesh she sucks."

"Give it to me, Mommy."

younger!abby knows it's all you need before the friction of the strap is too much and you're coming along with her.

younger!abby feels herself falling as you cleans the two of you up, before she holds her.

younger!abby feels safe and she never wants this feeling to escape her.

younger!abby also can't wait until you break her brain and fuck her into oblivion again.

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ellieslaces · 2 months

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KISSING LESSONS.

featuring: hazel callahan x fem!cheerleader!reader

synopsis: Hazel’s worst decision was to join her friend’s fight club, until she met you. or, really got to know you, she knew you, you just didn’t know her. she never thought a cheerleader, much less one of the prettiest girls in the school, would ever pay attention to her. until you did.

content warnings: harsh language; mentions of violence; internalized homophobia; light smut; kissing (wlw); so much loser lesbianism; some homophobic slang (faggot, munch)

notes: mentions of violence (duh, it’s lesbian fight club); mentions of reader being bisexual (more toward women tho); homophobic slang (faggot, munch, etc) ; there is no real smut in this as i do not write explicit content containing minors.

word count: 3.13k

chloe talks: watched bottoms and then hyperfixated on Hazel for two weeks before I decided to write this. God, I need her so bad. Chloe has a type doesn’t she? (soft mascs make me hhnngg). hazels so fucking cute I need her to kiss me ok bye. <3 (also, I hate the way this turned out, I’m so sorry it’s terrible)

now playing: kissing lessons ; lucy dacus

Fight Club — a popular 1990’s film, that’s all those two words had ever meant to you. You’d never even seen the film, you just knew it was fucking gay, despite it not actually being about the hot topic of homosexuality amongst young men (or women, in your case). But, I digress.

It had been your friends, Isabel and Brittany, who managed to get your ass to attend your school’s resident Fight Club. A women’s Fight Club. How fucking gay. Oh well, it would teach you how to defend yourself properly. Which, in this day and age — or any day and age of we’re honest — is horribly necessary.

It shouldn’t be, but knowing how to beat the shit out of a grown man is something you should know how to do. Self defense isn’t a topic to be taken lightly, and it seemed PJ and Josie knew this.

PJ and Josie — or faggot #1 and faggot #2 as the school knew more endearingly — where the school’s resident ‘ugly and untalented gays’, as Jeff and his little crew liked to say. Really, you suspected they were all just pissed because the girls knew their way around a pussy better than any of them did. They wouldn’t know the clit if it slapped them in the face.

It had been about two weeks into the girls’ club that Isabel and Britany attended for the first time. They showed up to cheer practice the following day with busted lips and bruised faces. At first, you hadn’t known what happened. Maybe Jeff’s dramatics had finally gotten the better of him. But no, they had willingly gotten beaten up for the sake of learning how to better throw a punch.

Finally, after hours upon hours of begging and pleading, Britany and Isabel got you to attend a meeting. You had walked in, nerves wrecking your body as you trailed unsurely behind the two girls you considered your best friends. You trusted them, they wouldn’t let something bad happen.

You had planned to spend your first meeting simply observing, but PJ tried so hard to convince you to join in. She almost even pushed you into the fucking ring. When you finally conceded, you were face to face with Hazel Callahan.

You knew of her, but you didn’t know her. You’d passed her a few times in the hall, you had a science class with her. Jeff said she was another one of those ‘loud mouth munches’ — to which you nearly punched him square in the nose had he not been Isabel’s boyfriend and a complete moron.

Hazel seemed nice, she’d smiled in your direction when you walked into the gym. It was a nice gesture, no matter the awkward air it held. You felt sort of bad for putting her in the situation she was in, even though it was PJ’s fault that she now had to fight you.

You stood awkwardly, fists raised in a defensive position, eyes on Hazel as she stood in front of you. She smiled again, still awkward as it had been when you walked in. You were set on not getting the shit beat out of you.

As soon as PJ’s whistle sounded, you barely gave Hazel a chance to move. She’d shifted on her feet, sending a spark of fear through you, causing you to send a punch straight to her face. You’d gasped, watching her face scrunch up as her own hands flew up to cup her nose.

“Oh my God, I’m so fucking sorry.” You cried, stepping forward, ignoring the claps and cheers falling obnoxiously from PJ’s lips.

Hazel let out a choked laugh, brows raised as she held her nose. “No uh, nice hit. Fuck, that was a good one.” She blinked rapidly, momentarily lowering her hands.

You let out a small squeak as you saw that her nose was indeed bleeding. “Shit, your nose.” You stepped forward again, trying to find something to stop the bleeding. But of course, there wasn’t anything you had on you.

“Alright, Hazel’s fine. Let’s move on.” PJ droned, giving her whistle another sharp blow — she really abused her whistle privileges, you thought as you ushered Hazel toward the bleachers.

Hazel gave a thumbs up — her hand covered in blood that dripped from her nose — as she walked toward the bleachers. No one seemed to notice other than you as you walked with her. You felt so bad, so terrible because now this girl was bleeding because of you.

“I’m sorry,” you weakly apologized again, sitting in front of her on the bleachers, looking frantically around for something to give her to stop the bleeding.

“It’s okay, I’m okay.” Hazel shook her head, trying to convince you she was fine. Even though you both knew she wasn’t.

“Uh fuck, there isn’t anything — don’t do that.” You’d cut yourself off quick, voice deadpanned.

Hazel paused, her head half leaning backward as she looked over in your direction. Her ringed fingers pinched the bridge of her nose — it seemed she’d had the idea to lean her head back to stop the bleeding.

“Lean your head forward, not backward. If you go backwards, the blood could go into your lungs. Go forward and let it drip out.” You instructed, pulling her hand down gently by her wrist, moving to take off your cardigan so she could hold it below her face to catch the blood as it dripped.

“How do you know that?” Hazel questioned, brows pulled in a frown as she leaned her face forward so the blood could freely drip from her nose onto the bundle of fabric in her hands.

“I had to get a certificate to be able to babysit.” You shrugged, moving the strands of hair from her face without thinking about it. When you’d realized what you’d done, you froze, dropping your hand in embarrassment, muttering a sad ‘sorry’ again.

Hazel shook her head, not responding verbally to your millionth apology. Your cheeks warmed, suddenly so embarrassed for an entirely different reason. Not just for punching Hazel square in the nose, but you’d managed to embarrass yourself by noticing just how pretty she was.

Hazel sat on the bottom row of the bleachers in the gym, watching the rest of the group fight each other in turns, different girls winning. Some had busted lips, others a myriad of bruises spattered across their faces.

You took the time to notice just how pretty Hazel was — a sharp jawline that would make Jeff jealous, brunette hair that mussed in just the right way and looked so goddamn soft, her nose that was long and straight save for the small bump in the bridge that made your throat constrict. God, she really was a sight. How hadn’t you noticed sooner?

Maybe it was the fact that Hazel wasn’t in your social circle. You were a cheerleader, friends with Isabel and Britany, the focus of stares. Hazel was a loser — in the kindest and most endearing way — someone who wasn’t popular. Someone who had hardly any friends. And despite the fact that today was maybe the third time in your entire life you’d ever spoken to her, you wanted to be one of her friends.

A quick, sharp quip of PJ’s whistle brought you back to the present, her loud voice announcing the day’s session was over. You blinked, looking away from Hazel. Who somehow didn’t seem to notice you’d just spent the past five or so minutes just studying her face.

She turned to you, eyes apologetic as she held out your crumpled cardigan in her hands. “It’s really bloody, sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. You can keep it,” you shook your head, holding out your hand. It was only after the words came out of your mouth that realized how stupid that sounded. “I mean, it’s just, you don’t have to give it back. I don’t like it that much anyways. And it’ll probably stain. That sounds bad, I’m sorry.”

Hazel smiled a little at your words that seemed to stumble out of your mouth. You regretted every single one of them. You moved to take the cardigan anyway, acting as if you hadn’t told her to just keep it. But she pulled it back.

“I’ll wash it.” She said simply, standing. There were specks and smears of dried blood on and below her nose. You felt another pang of guilt then, seeing that your punch would definitely cause a bruise across her nose.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” You shook your head, standing as well. Isabel and Britany stood a few feet away, clearly waiting for you to come over. You didn’t want to though, for some reason.

“It’s fine. I’ll see you at the next meeting right?” Hazel asked, not relenting and continuing to hold the cardigan in her hands as she started to back away.

“Uh, yeah, I guess so.” You shrugged, somewhat embarrassed. You didn’t really want to come back. Not since you’d punched Hazel and made her bleed on your first meeting. But, maybe this would be a good incentive to come back. To see her.

“Cool,” Hazel grinned, nodding in your direction before she walked toward where PJ and Josie stood. You remained sentient for a moment, hands folded in front of your lap as you watched Hazel.

“Jesus, you hit hard.” Isabel’s voice rang in your ears as she and Britany approached, the latter’s eyes wide as she looked at your hand.

“Might want to wash your hands,” the girl motioned to your dominant hand — the knuckles were spotted in blood from where you’d punched Hazel and blood had immediately started to pour from her nose.

Your eyes latched onto the specks of blood on your knuckles, brows creased as you stared. Bright, rusty red adorned the skin of your knuckles, bits of Hazel Callahan’s DNA there. It was strange, but it made you smile.

The attendance of the fight club had steadily grown — girls coming to the gym after school to brush up on their combat skills. All in preparation for the upcoming football game against Huntington. The fear ever since one girl had gotten attacked by one of the boys and word had gotten around about it.

So, attendance had spiked, the ‘female solidarity’ — as PJ liked to call it — had risen in the school, even the girls were kinder and nicer to one another. And your mind was muddled with constant pictures and thoughts of Hazel Callahan.

It was confusing — you’d never felt such a strong connection to someone you hardly knew. Hazel was as much a mystery to you as the rest of the ‘ugly, untalented gays’. Meaning she was a huge fucking mystery. Sure, you were vaguely aware that her parents had divorced, and that the girl mostly kept in the background in school. But other than that, Hazel was purely mysterious to you. And you found yourself wanting to know more.

To remedy thhs, you continued to attend fight club, naturally. Yes, you shared a class or two with the girl, but nowhere else did you have the chance to actually interact with her. To converse with her, hear her voice, see her smile. God, what a loser you were.

It wasn’t until two weeks later that you’d come to realize how disgustingly and embarrassingly obvious your infatuation with Hazel was. And what made it worse — it was PJ who brought it to your attention.

“Yo!” PJ’s obnoxious voice rang through the gym as you stood in the circle with the rest of the girls, watching Silvia and Brittany spar, your name on the girl’s lips as she spoke. “Quick eye-fucking Hazel and pay attention! Huntington is like, two weeks away.”

Your cheeks flamed a bright red as you sunk into yourself, shoulders curling in. God, you wanted a chance at PJ in that ring to strangle the fuck out of her for that. Your eyes quickly cut over to where Hazel stood — her own cheeks dusted with light pink as she avoided your gaze.

Great, now she probably wouldn’t talk to you at all. Fuck PJ and her obnoxious, loud mouth. Your embarrassment was not short lived as the fight club went on. You couldn’t look in Hazel’s direction at all as you waited out the meeting until its end so you could retreat with your tail between your legs and never show your face in this gym again.

It was as you shouldered your backpack, heart still racing, stomach still uneasy with embarrassment that you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You turned, eyes going wide as you were face to face with Hazel. Your eyes trailed down to a bundle of fabric in her hands.

“Sorry it took so long, but uh, I got the blood out.” She held out what turned out to be your cardigan. The cardigan that you’d leant her two weeks ago when you’d punched her too hard.

“Um, you didn’t have to do that.” You said, offering a sheepish smile as she held out the cardigan. You gingerly took it, eyes locked on Hazel’s face. As you grabbed it, you swore you could feel a spark when your fingers brushed against hers. A fucking spark — cliche but true.

It was silent between you two for a moment before Hazel shook her head, jutting her thumb over her shoulder. “Sorry about PJ. Things kind of come out of her mouth without her brain processing first.”

Yikes, Hazel meant the ‘eye-fucking’ comment. You offered a small, horribly obvious chuckle. “Yeah, I kinda noticed.”

There was another long stretch of silence between you and Hazel, your lips pulled to the side as you held the folded — she’d fucking folded it, Jesus she was adorable — cardigan in your hands. It was strange, but not too uncomfortable. Like that stupid thing from Pulp Fiction, the right person is someone that silence isn’t awkward with.

“I wasn’t eye-fucking you.” You blurted. Great, you made it awkward again. A small groan fell from your lips, head dropping as you closed your eyes with a frown. You shook your head. “Sorry, I dunno what’s wrong with me today.”

“PJ’s just jealous.” Hazel offered with a small laugh. How could one solidarity laugh sound so beautiful?

“Of what?” You asked gingerly, looking up to meet her eyes. For some reason, you were weary of her answer.

“That you aren’t giving her attention. Besides, I don’t think she’d know what to do with your attention anyway, you’re so pretty.” She said it not as an insult to PJ — or at least it didn’t sound like it — but more as an obvious fact. And you were stunned because Hazel had just called you pretty.

You were at a loss. A true loss. How the hell were you supposed to respond to that? So, like an idiot, you just stared at her blankly, eyes confused and wide.

Her own eyes went wide, brows furrowed as a worried look crossed her features. “Shit, was that too much? Too much. Fuck.” Her voice lowered as she cursed, brows knit together.

“No! Not too much, I just… I just didn’t think you thought I was pretty too.” You shrugged, quick to correct her. Quick to reassure that you were flattered and not weirded out.

“I mean yeah, of course I do.” Hazel nodded, her voice soft, words intentional like her statement was an obvious fact.

A smile spread across your face, cheeks warm again. You weren’t sure why, but you suddenly felt so much about Hazel. You’d never had a crush on a girl before. It was new and strange, but you definitely thought this was a crush.

“Thanks.” You whispered, eyes darting down to the cardigan in your hands for a moment before going back to looking up at Hazel. “For the compliment, and bringing back my cardigan. You didn’t have to wash it.”

“It’s fine, I wanted to. It’s a nice cardigan.” Hazel shrugged. It seemed she was at a loss for what to say around you too.

The gym was near empty by now — Josie and PJ chattering away in the far corner, and Isabel and Brittany waiting for you (but not paying attention to anyone but themselves) by the gym doors a few feet away.

So, due to the empty state of the gym and the disgustingly thick tension between you and Hazel, you stepped forward, pressing a quick and gentle kiss to her cheek.

This took the girl by surprise. Her eyes went wide as your lips pressed to her soft cheek. You leaned back, her brows creased as she watched you.

“Thanks,” you said again, with a shrug. Letting her know that was your way of thanking her. Small, but meaningful to you.

It was a long moment that you stood there, Hazel staring at you with wide eyes. For a couple of long seconds, you thought you’d fucked up. Misread the situation, mistook the tension for something else. But, you were proven wrong as she leaned forward, closing the distance between you by pressing her mouth to yours.

“You’re welcome.” She murmured as she leaned back, your eyes wide now from processing that Hazel had just kissed. That you’d just had your first girl-kiss. Fucking scary, but nice. You liked it. Liked her.

“I’ve never done that.” You whispered, blinking rapidly to ground yourself. “With, with a girl, I mean.” You corrected yourself almost instantly.

You’d kissed a guy or two before. Sadly, your first ever kiss was Tim at the ninth grade freshman dance. He was a bad kisser and you hated it. But, you liked how Hazel kissed. Despite it being a quick peck, it was full of intention and it was gentle too.

Hazel shrugged, a small half smile forming on her lips. “Maybe I can give you lessons.”

You grinned, laughing a little as you nodded, backing away toward the gym doors, needing to escape before you said anything else stupid. “Yeah, that’d be nice. I’ll send you my address.”

“Okay,” Hazel nodded, grinning widely to herself as you mentioned her coming over.

You almost skipped as you walked out of the gym, trailing behind Isabel and Brittany as the girls chittered away, the prospect that Hazel would be giving you fucking kissing lessons. You held the bundle of fabric close to your chest as you walked to your car. And it was then you noticed it smelled like Hazel. The detergent, obviously. But, there was something else that was just Hazel. And you never wanted it to go away. Maybe, you could wear it while she gave you kissing lessons that night.

2023 ©️ellieslaces please do not repost, rewrite, translate, or submit my work to AI or any other platform. please support your creators by reblogging, liking, and following!

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#Hazel Callahan #hazel callahan x you #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan drabble #hazel bottoms #hazel #Hazel Callahan bottoms #hazel callahan bottoms 2023 #bottoms 2023 #lesbians #wlw post #cishet men dni

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glorismorningstar · 3 months

Text

THE LION CHRONICLES

Pairings: girlfriend!Lute x f!reader, fatherfigure!Alastor x f!reader, Charlie x overprotective!Vaggie + f!bodyguard!reader, situationship!Carmilla Carmine x f!reader

Summary: Charlie is asked to attend a meeting with Heaven, and Vaggie asks Y/N to keep an eye on her. Begrudgingly, she agrees, but not without taking the necessary precautions. A dreaded yet hoped-for encounter occurs, which triggers unforgettable memories.

Warnings: daddy issues, canon-typical violence, Adam being Adam, brief lesbian smut, fluff, angst, grief, sadness, mentions of sex, WLW

A/N: I'm fully aware that the trailer was a major flop, but this story is purely self indulgent and has been in my head for so long that I need to get it out :)

| Part 0 // Part 1 // Part 2 |

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

27 YEARS LATER…

“So, what do you think?” Alastor asked as he turned off the TV. He had just shown us the commercial he'd made for the hotel, and while Charlie and Vaggie were off-put and disappointed, I had to hold back a snort of laughter.

“That was hysterical,” I laughed, resting my elbows on top of the backrest of the couch. “May I have a copy of that?”

“Y/N!” Vaggie barked.

“Right, right!” I cleared my throat. While this was one of the most entertaining things I'd seen in a long while - since that dipshit Vox was unable to put on anything good in the seven years that Alastor was gone, or even before that - it wasn't oriented to what we wanted to do for sinners, it did not once mention redemption or our ambition to help souls checking out into Heaven.

“I'm sorry, what the fuck was that?” Vaggie snapped.

“Uh, yeah, one note… Alastor…” Charlie hesitated, trying to find the words to criticize the commercial without aggravating Alastor, whose grin hadn't wasted a beat in growing strained. “I mean, first off, thank you so much for making this, seriously amazing! But, um, maybe the tone is a bit off.”

Alastor, tilting his head a little and furrowing his brows in his own fashion of a glare, was visibly offended, expression betraying his ever-present smile. I had always found his grin curious, ever since the day he and Rosie had rescued me, I wondered about his choice to smile permanently. A smile is a powerful tool, he'd say, it keeps your friends inspired, your enemies guessing, and assures that no matter what happens, you're the one in control.

“We want people to want to come here, but this makes it look… um…” she continued, attempting to word her sentence properly.

“Bad. The word you're looking for is bad.” Vaggie completed. While Sera had taught me to be polite, her brutal honesty was refreshing.

“Funny, I was going for hilarious!” Alastor said and tilted his head to the side, neck rolling with a crack.

“Agreed, but comedy isn't the purpose of the ad.” I said with a soft tilt of my head.

“It didn't say anything about how we're trying to save demons from the extermination, which is the whole fucking point.”

“Vaggie is right, Alastor. The commercial is to let sinners know we are trying to help them.” Said Charlie.

“Well, my dear, I haven't been active in Hell for quite some time and everyone remembers me from my radio show - the proper medium to express oneself,” he said, holding his finger up for emphasis, which made me chuckle, then I laced my fingers together and rested my chin on my conjoined hands. “But you insisted on this noisy picture box advertisement! So I had a little fun with it.”

His inability - and unwillingness - to hide his thinly veiled contempt for modern technology never failed to amuse me. I was among the oldest beings in creation, only younger than very few souls, but I had grown accustomed to television, cinema and social media. His insistence on radio broadcasts and their superiority was quite humorous.

“Oh, fun? You had a little fun with it?” Vaggie said, getting up from her seat. She was about to lose her patience, and I couldn't blame her. This was an important thing, for it to work out, it was vital that it was taken seriously by everyone involved. “This is not what we want to represent us! When you showed up here a week ago, you said you would help run this hotel, instead you're mocking us! No one is gonna come to a place that a powerful Overlord like you thinks is a waste of time.”

As if on cue, a pink gloved hand raised from the couch opposite the fireplace. I sighed and tilted my head to look at him, boredly smushing my cheek against my hand. “What?”

“If'n ya filming a commercial, can I suggest you take better advantage of the talented celebrity you have right here?” Angel Dust asked, four fingers pointing at himself.

“I don't know if you can, but you most certainly may not.” I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose in exasperation. His views on sex were the polar opposite of mine. Heavenly standards had always discouraged giving in to such temptations, but that was one among the many ways in which I had rebelled. Nevertheless, for me sex had always been a way to express strong feelings of affection rather than just a simple exchange of bodily fluids. When I lived in Heaven, Lute and I had always made love with the purpose of worshiping and pleasuring each other, while Angel did so simply for the sake of reaching the climax, which I found immature and foolish.

“Angel, you're a porn star.” Vaggie pointed out with visible dismissal of his idea.

“A famous porn star!” He corrected. “I'll have the horniest sinners knocking these walls down to get in.”

“We're not filming a porn as a commercial.” Vaggie spoke, as if it wasn't obvious enough to the effeminate man.

“Why not?”

“Where do I begin? It's disgusting, it's unrealistic, it's immoral, and it makes little to no sense, among other things.” I listed out, counting each point on my fingers while I gazed at him with a grimace.

“No sense? Sex sells, don't it?” He said, rubbing his fingertips together. “I swear, if you film me going at it with Mr. Fancy Talk Creepy Voice here, you'd be rolling in participants willing to stay at this tacky hotel.”

The simple thought made me gag. Alastor's asexuality was to be respected, for his sake and for my own peace of mind. “Ha, ha! Never going to happen!”

“Angel, I appreciate you wanting to use your… special skills to, um… attract folks to the hotel, but I really don't want to exploit you! In that way.” Charlie winced, giving a polite but awkward smile to dismiss such a notion.

“Oh, please, baby, this body was made to be exploited,” he drawled and puffed his chest, making poses to highlight his sexual desirability. “I got the arms, I got the stamina, I got the legs, I got the lung capacity, ha, ha, I got the legs! The gag reflex, the holes, the chest fluff the everyone thinks are tits-”

His narcissistic rambling was interrupted by Charlie's ringtone, which made me breathe a sigh of relief and stop tugging on my ears. As she excused herself to take the phone call, I zoned out for a minute, tail curling around my hip as the fluffy tip twitched idly. I heard her say “dad”, which drew a soft smile from me. If only Lucifer had been there to support my rebellion then, maybe things might have been a little different. I hadn't seen him in ages. We used to get along fairly well, and when I needed secret meetings to try to make peace, he was my main contact. Despite our strong friendship, I knew he'd recognize me immediately if he saw me again, so I refrained from reaching out.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when I heard Husk once again rejecting Angel's flirting. It really was annoying.

Husk and I had met through Alastor, as the poor guy was owned by the Overlord. We had more in common than I'd thought, including our feline traits, both physical and characteristic, and a mutual annoyance with Angel Dust. I felt bad for how Alastor treated him, I always believed it was unfair, but his rage was one of the most chilling, terrifying things one could ever witness, and I wasn't stupid enough to allow myself to be the object of his frustrations. It was already a miracle he was the closest thing to a father I'd ever have.

“Vaggie! Holy shit!”

“Pah!” I yelped, ears pulling back as Charlie's outburst startled me.

“Ah! What?”

“Get over here!”

Their cute relationship made a fond chuckle fall from my lips, watching with a small smile as Vaggie walked over behind the wall to talk to Charlie.

When I heard her mention a meeting with the leader of the exorcist army, my stomach dropped to my knees. Adam.

He was almost my brother-in-law, brought into my social circle by Lute. I didn't admire him like he liked to think everyone did, but I did respect him, for Lute's sake. It was important to her that I got along with her best friend, and I couldn't deny her such a thing.

- I can do this, somehow I know it

I'll get Heaven behind my plans

- Charlie, hold on

I could hear Charlie singing. She did always have a thing for singing songs at random times, a habit that straddled the line between endearing and entertaining, and annoying and irritating.

- There's just no way I could blow this

Not this once in a lifetime chance

- It's just a meeting

Ah, yes, just a meeting, I thought with a sigh. The poor girl was about to go to her first meeting with Adam of all people. It was like taking her driver's test in a bus.

- To change their minds, to touch their hearts

Or whatever angels have

I frowned a little at the prejudice. Angels do so have hearts. It was the hypocrisy that bugged me.

- This could be bad

- Cheer up, Vaggie

This could be swell

Something tells me that today is gonna be a happy day in Hell

- Okay, but just don't sing to them

Ah, the famous last words. Charlie was already out the door before Vaggie could even finish the sentence, strutting around through Hell as if it were the land of cupcakes and rainbows.

- That bitch is halfway down the street

- Is she-?

- Oh, she's dancing

- Ugh, no

I sighed and leaned against the door frame, tail curling as I watched the princess walking down the street. “Y/N, you should accompany her to the meeting. Say you're the bodyguard or something.”

“Ha, ha, yeah, right.” I laughed with pure sarcasm. The simple idea of being in the same room as someone with divine ordainment after almost three decades made my head spin with anxiety.

“Fine, then at least keep an eye on her. Make sure she doesn't run into some weirdass on the way.” Vaggie proposed. While it bordered on stalking, it was true that Charlie could be a bit too carefree, and it was the least I could do to help.

“Fine.” I groaned, pulling on the hood of my cloak, and followed her path down the street, dodging disgusting views and unpleasant sinners on the way. The fact that I'd be hearing Adam's voice after this long was nerve-wracking, to say the least. I wouldn't be speaking to him, obviously, if it were so I would have outright fainted, but being in a one mile radius of any personality from the right side of the pearly gates made my lungs constrict.

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

As I stood in front of the tall golden tower of Heaven's embassy, a flurry of edgy butterflies swarmed in my stomach. I inhaled deeply through my nose and slowly exhaled through my mouth, then hurried inside after Charlie before the door could close, slipping in the shadows to keep her from seeing me.

When she signed the paper and entered the meeting room, I finally relaxed and laid on one of the couches in the deserted lobby, pulling my hood down and sighing as I stared at the ceiling. I could hear Adam's boisterous laugh, muffled by the walls, and my stomach did a backflip. I buried my face in my hands and took a few deep breaths, trying to get my shit together.

“You think I'd come down there? No, I mean, I love the vibe. Totally, love your tunes. Pretty fuckin’ hardcore, don't get me wrong, but it's such a bummer, man. Everything down there is so bleugh, heh… ew.” His shenanigans never failed to make me roll my eyes. I never once agreed with him on anything, barely even on the smallest of dilemmas, like which milkshake flavor was the best. But there was an unspoken agreement between us to put up with each other's shit, motivated by our closeness with Lute.

My gaze then flickered around the room, which hadn't changed in twenty-seven years. I could remember when I'd first been here to meet with Lucifer in secret to attempt to stop the exterminations. It all felt like it was eons ago, when in reality it hadn't even been half a century, a microscopic fraction to my long life as a Seraphim.

“Adam, sir… Mr. Adam, sir-”

“Call me Dickmaster.”

A ghost of a laugh fell from my lips at the nickname. It had been so long since I'd heard him and his narcissistic ramblings about his sexual prowess. Word in Heaven and outside was that he was just as good as he purported, which I didn't find too hard to believe, as he was neither an unattractive nor an inexperienced man.

“It's the solution to our biggest problem!”

“Herpes! Yeah, that's a bitch.”

“No, our other biggest problem!”

“Oh, um… ugly people? Math? Global warming! No, wait, that's Earth's problem. When you take her out for the fifth time and she still expects you to pay the check, and you're like, hey, I thought you wanted equality!”

“No! Our shared problem of overpopulation in Hell.”

“Oh! Well, that's not a problem! We've got that covered! Lute, how many demons-”

Lute?

Lute was here?

I scrambled to the door and pressed my ear up against it, listening for any sign of her, her voice, her footsteps, her auditory mannerisms. Anything.

“Got a good 275 this year, sir.”

I rested my hand against the door and sniffed, breathing out a shaky, broken sigh as I slumped into a ball on the floor, leaning my ear against the cold surface. Hearing the ethereal sound of her voice after three decades felt like reaching an oasis after having wandered the desert, a ray of sunlight in a dark tunnel. My eyes flooded with tears as I let out silent sobs, covering my mouth with my hand as I kept listening for her voice, in desperate need of getting whatever glimpse of her I could.

I wondered what she thought of me now, so long after I disappeared with no trace. I could barely even imagine the pain she must have gone through - or was still going through - if she thought I was dead… or worse, if she thought I abandoned her. If she thought I didn't love her and Emily and Sera anymore, and decided I'd live a better life elsewhere. The thought of her hating me made me choke a sob, the hearing range too short for the emotions I wanted to show.

For fuck's sake, she was the love of my life. Why the fuck didn't I go in as the bodyguard? What was going through my head when Charlie said she'd be meeting Adam? You can't have Adam without Lute, how stupid could I have been to not think of that? I missed her face so much… her golden, intelligent eyes, her pretty little nose, her mischievous smirk, her thick, fluttering eyelashes… God, how I loved her face…

“They're not the same. They had their chance, and they earned damnation.”

I didn't even care what she was saying right now, I just needed to hear her.

“...but everyone makes mistakes.”

“Angels don't make mistakes.”

“You really think that?”

“I know that.”

I'd heard that before.

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

With a last harsh suck to her clit, her thighs clamped around my head and she cried out my name, squirming and mewling as my face remained buried in the paradise between her legs. I lifted my head to meet her eyes and licked my lips clean of her sweet juices while her hand lingered on my hair, grip on my locks loosening as her chest heaved with the exertion. Giving her an affectionate smile, I shifted to get up and grab something to clean her, but she stopped me before I could do so. “Stay.”

I smiled at her and leaned my head on her thigh, planting the occasional kiss on her soft skin. “I love the way you taste.”

“You say that every time you go down on me.” She giggled, carding her fingers through my hair.

“And I'll keep saying it over and over, my love.” I smiled, resting my forehead on the soft flesh of her thigh and closing my eyes.

I heard her let out a quiet chuckle as her hand kept stroking my hair, head falling back against her pillow as she slowly regained her breath. Everything about her mesmerized me. Being with Lute felt more right than being with any man in this universe. The way she tasted, the way she smelled, the way she looked, the noises she made, they all made me fall in love with her more with each encounter. My thoughts wandered to her military training and the extermination. Even putting aside the betrayal of Sera making such a decision, with the way Lute spoke about enrolling in the army, I'd never have peace of mind. Heaven was a lie, indeed. I wanted to stop it so badly, to protect Emily from such knowledge, to find a solution different from violence, to take some weight off Sera's shoulders, to save Lute's life.

I shook such thoughts out of my head and crawled up to lie flat on top of her, giving her a tender kiss on the lips and resting my forehead on hers. She wrapped her legs around my waist, locking her ankles on my lower back, and said, “What's with the frown, princess?”

I sighed and looked at the helmet on her nightstand, then back into her eyes. “Do you think it's possible to make peace with Hell?”

“What?” She asked with something between a scoff and a laugh. “Of course not. They had their chance to be good, and look at what they did instead.”

“And that was a mistake,” I conceded, tenderly brushing the hair out of her eyes. The last thing I wanted to do was make this boil over into an argument, so I kept my tone soft and gentle. “But there's no one that doesn't make mistakes.”

“Angels don't make mistakes, love.” She replied.

“Strongly disagree.” I sighed, looking to the side again with a small frown. To name a few, Sera chose to approve the extermination and put Adam, of all people, in charge. It was true that he was sort of an in-law to me, and the best that could be said of our relationship was that we had mutual respect, but he was self-absorbed, reckless and obnoxious, a testosterone-fueled wind-up soldier that marched wherever his sex-clouded brain told him to. And to think that poor Emily still believed she lived in this perfect, unbiased realm of bliss.

“Hey,” Lute cooed, taking my chin in between her fingertips and tipping it to meet her eyes. “What Sera did was for your own good. She just wants to protect you, and so do I.”

She then grabbed my cheeks and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. The gesture made me smile a bit. I knew she wanted my wellbeing, but if only there was a way to do so that wasn't so violent…

“Come on, no more pouting,” she said, nuzzling our noses together. “What do you say we cuddle a bit and tomorrow we go out for ice cream?”

“Hmm… sounds fun. Thank you.” I mumbled and trailed a few soft kisses across her shoulder, then rested my head on her chest and closed my eyes, reveling in her presence.

My gaze once again fell on her exorcist's helmet. Those rotten black horns, striped with white and curled at the tips, the × over the right eye and that ragged smile… I loathed everything about it. The fear of losing her to this was too big. I'd do whatever it took to spare her and my family from this barbarity.

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The moment Adam opened the door, the color dissipated from my skin.

He was holding Charlie by the wrist - thankfully she had her back to me - and beside him was Lute.

Lute, in that familiar gray uniform and that horrible mask.

Her eyes met mine for a split second and I felt the wind being knocked out of me when she squinted and her body language shifted ever so slightly, which made me gasp and pull my hood back on, ears pulling back in fear and tail taking cover between my legs, and in the time she simply blinked, I ran away on all fours as fast as my legs could carry me, not stopping until I reached the hotel. My legs felt like they could crumble any second, my lungs screaming for breath and my throat begging for water, but I wouldn't stop until I was far away from the embassy.

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

As night befell the Pentagram, I laid on my bed and stared out the window in deep thought about the day's events. I opened the drawer in my nightstand and grabbed a picture, gazing at it fondly. It was me and Lute on date night, slow dancing to some cheesy love song we liked. I had an arm around her while my free hand held hers as she looked at me with heart-shaped eyes.

I wondered if she'd still look at me that way now, if she didn't hate me for disappearing without a message or note or any information on where I'd gone beforehand. A part of me didn't want to know the answer.

My phone dinged with a new notification, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Fuck.”

Hey corazón <3

21:14

You coming over tonight?

21:14

Shit, Carmilla. When my brain registered Lute's presence earlier today, everyone else was dead to me. Thankfully, I was grounded back to reality when I got back to the hotel, but I couldn't just ditch Carmilla for a person I may or may not see ever again. Then again, I couldn't abandon Lute, the woman I loved with all my heart and soul for years on end, for a mere carnal relationship.

I sighed and texted back my response,

Sorry babe, I'm not in the mood tonight :(

21:17

Good night

21:18

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel lute x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin lute #hazbin vaggie #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel charlie x reader #charlie morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel carmilla #carmilla carmine #carmilla x reader #carmilla carmine x reader #lute x reader #the lion chronicles

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yurious-george · 1 year

Text

For those of you who don’t know anything about Hollow Knight or its upcoming sequel, Silksong, there is some drama of astronomical potential that is going to be hilarious to see how it shakes out.

Three things. First, as you may already know, Hollow Knight is one of those hardcore games that attracts a certain type of cishet “gamer guy”: I’m sure you know the type. They can be more or less overtly bigoted, but either way, they’re all kind of That Guy. Second, Princess Hornet is one of the major characters in Hollow Knight, and the player character in Silksong. Third, every character in the Hollow Knight world is a bug, and aren’t depicted as having sexually dysmorphic traits that humans have: there are no insects with tits in this game, despite being bipedal and anthropomorphic. (Despite that, Hornet is frequently drawn with tits anyway, because the aforementioned demographic is outrageously horny for her. This is important later.)

In Silksong, Hornet is strongly implied to have a rival/deuteragonist, Lace! Not much is known about Lace, except she’s described as sadistic and set up as Hornet’s rival. And gamer dudebros hate her.

Maybe not full on hate, but they don’t like her. “Too mean and dislikable,” if memory serves. If I had to guess, they’re subconsciously picking up on the subtext and being homophobic about it: Hornet is the waifu of many a gamer bro, and between the subtext and Lace’s implied importance in the narrative/sadism/independence/backhandedness, Lace does not have a lot of love in that half of the community.

(As for the other half of the community, the player character of Hollow Knight is canonically agender. There are two canon gay couples within the game, and while not required, completing their side quests is essential to 100%ing the game. Despite being a couple of Cishet Male Gamers themselves, the Hollow Knight team is gracefully supportive of the LGBT+ community, and much of the fan base is LGBTQ+!)

But back to Lace: Lace and her subtext. Lace has insane amounts of wedding and romantic subtext despite only having 2 trailers and a demo’s worth of content. Off the top of my head:

association with white & gold, particularly white roses

Lots of church imagery, especially an emphasis on ringing bells

Lace’s and Hornet’s VAs are both Japanese, and Lace is straight up wearing a Japanese wedding garment while dressed head to toe in white

Visual design and presentation wise, Lace is framed as an equal and opposite to Hornet. Lace is likely to play the rival-won-over role that Hornet had in Hollow Knight, to the point of leaving the arena the same way as Hornet when her first fight ends

Calls Hornet delicious when first introduced. Then says she likes her when Hornet tells her to fuck off

Strongly implied to have saved Hornet in the opening trailer

And, last but certainly not least: the original Silksong announcement, with Lace’s introduction, came out on February 14th.

And that’s just off the top of my head!

I don’t want to get my hopes up, much less expect anything and get disappointed, but in my heart I am hoping gamer bros take the BIGGEST L when Silksong comes out. I hope Lace is complex and engaging and still sadistic. I hope Lace is the Vriska of Silksong. I hope Lace and Hornet have so much subtext it’s practically text. I hope the good end is locked behind a lesbian wedding.

I don’t hope for that last one specifically, but just imagine. Go on, pair off the one character that cishet male fans go “hhhurngh… female character” and draw with massive balloon tits to the character they hate the most. Do it. I believe in you

But seriously: The main character of the most wishlisted game on Steam confirmed in a wlw relationship, effectively alienating half or more than half of the fan base. Hollow Knight: Silksong has the potential to be the funniest lesbian W in the universe and I cannot wait to see how it all goes down.

#hollow knight #silksong #hollow knight silksong #hk silksong #this is Cassandra #hashtag lacenet sweep #long post #lacenet #like korrasami “’we popping the BIGGEST bottles when makorra happens tomorrow”’ w #the 100 crowd

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milfbrennan · 7 months

Text

bones sexuality headcanons

yeah i dont have proof (except angela) i just Know. call it my lesbian spidey senses. disclaimer that those are MY headcanons, you can have your own opinions on those ofc

main characters:

brennan: bi (preference for ugly men... but i digress). she probably started exploring her sexual orientiation in college and came to the conclusion that she's attracted to every gender to varying degrees. she's probably tongue kissed angela a few times pre season 1

booth: cishet ally! ⭐️ he's a bit confused but he's got the spirit, i'll give him that.. bi wife energy start playing whenever he walks into the room

zack: gayboi with a bad case of hero worship for dr brennan. naomi from paleonthology made him realise this isnt really what he'd like to excavate, if you get the gist... ;) (ew)

angela: imo? bi, but it's up to anyone. canon queer and i'm very happy about it

hodgins: bi. putting my foot down on this one- to me, hodgela is bi4bi. one day early into the series angela goes "why is everyone so hot... being bi is so hard" and hodgins is like "yeah, tell me about it" and they have a Oh, You Too? moment

cam: distinguished (ex-disaster) pan. she's all cool and collected now but in middle school she was probably stuttering whenever she saw a pretty girl

sweets: pan. boykisser. i just KNOW. that man is not heterosexual. probably had a few boyfriends in high school too

aubrey: bi? preference for women but in an alternate universe he and sweets are a thing

goodman: token straightie along with booth except i actually like him even tho even tho he took a 2 month sabbatical and never came back

squinterns:

clark: bi. a bit repressed and only realised it after breaking up with nora but as long as he gets there it's fine

daisy: pan. absolute girlkisser. she has the wlw equivalent of whatever zack felt for dr brennan. swaisy is a disaster pan couple.

fisher: pan- and i wont have it any other way. he was 100% checking sweets out when he came over to b&b's in s8, so i like to think when hodgins asks sweets "what is it with you and interns?" in 9x23 he's including fisher

wendell: bi and in a lab au he's dating vincent thank you

vincent: english twink and i think he and wendell should kiss in the lab lost & found

arastoo: straightie but we still love him. pan wife energy since he and cam are married

finn: god, i have No Idea but i have a feeling he doesn't either

wells: aro, and maybe ace too, but fyi even if he wasn't no one would want him

jessica: ... i used to say lesbian but i kinda let the jaubrey of it all get to me... pan vibes perhaps? i'll have to think it over. in another universe she and daisy are a thing too btw

other characters:

caroline julian:... lesbian. no i will not give an explanation for this one. sham marriage and all.

karen delfs: big pansexual energy coming from this random profiler?? i like her

villains: (do not take those seriously, but also...)

pelant: unlabeled. getting strangled by hodgins awoke something in him but he didnt have the time to figure it out between 8x01 and 9x04

taffet: very VERY mean lesbian

epps: heterosexual incel

broadsky: internalised homophobia over booth, clearly

kovac: the man pretended to be married to his sister. i'm not sure i even wanna know

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yaut-jaknowit · 1 year

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hi there! first off I'd like to say how much I love your stories! rare to see F/F in the Yautja fandom so l can't tell you how much I appreciate reading your Gawtin x femreader stories.

may I request an ask? a smutty one specifically ? I recall in one of your stories that Gawtin and reader mention having a strap on. Could we see Gawtin use it on the reader? Maybe the reader is ovulating (horny) and that really brings out the dominance/ service top in Gawtin. Especially with so many other male Yautja around it'd be so hot to see possessive Gawtin. Well, more than she usually is 😏

Cared For

Pairing: Gawtin (Female Yautja) x AFAB Reader

Warnings: very possessive Gawtin, protective Gawtin, light fighting between two Yautjas, biting, slightly pain kind (if you squint) because of biting, marking kink, use of strap on dildo, WLW, lesbian couple, blood licking, squirting, fingering, choking, multiple orgasms, size difference, size kink, overstimulation, cunnilingus, light aftercare.

Word Count: 3604

Summary: Yautja's have a keen sense of smell. It can be used to aid them in most terms, or to embarrass you. You don't know why it didn't hit you earlier when you're ovulating and everyone is staring at you. Someone decided to have the balls to approach you... he'll come to learn his lesson by a towering force.

Author Note: I love when people request for her. I wish there were more out there with female yautjas. But like my cousin once told me, if there's nothing out there, write about it. And that I did. Thank you for the ask as well. This fits her so well too!

Masterlist

Ao3

This was probably a mistake. Almost every pair of eyes were stuck to your form, watching you sitting underneath a tree. The leaves and trunk offered you protection from the bearing, blazing sun that hung in Yautja Prime’s sky. It was the only way to be outside with your Yautja without being burnt to a crisp. Well, you could wear a protective layer of UV blocking clothing. It wouldn’t be the sun killing you then.

To ignore them the best you could, you bared down on the sketch book in your lap. The pencil you had twirled around your fingers as you tried to fix whatever was wrong with this drawing. Something didn’t look right, but you didn’t know what.

A dull pain twinged deep inside of your lower abdomen. You silently groaned and clenched your teeth in quiet protest. For one day, you wanted to enjoy the good weather. Though, everyone else in the town had the same thoughts as well. That wasn’t going to stop you. Nor would these stupid ovulating cramps. They were rare to occur, didn’t stop them though.

While all this happened in your little bubble, a male broke off from the group he had been in. Sweat and a thick layer of humidity clung to his scales as he made his way over to you. He couldn’t believe everyone else was just ignoring the sweet scent you were producing. If no one was going to try to gain your hand, then he would.

Oh, how oblivious he was as a newly blooded.

Before he had the chance to get into the shadow of the tree of you sat underneath of, something grasped the back of his shoulder straps and yanked him backwards. With the sudden move, the Yautja was forced to tumble and fall onto his rear. He still wasn’t given a movement to collect himself when a Bo staff shoved into his throat. A heavy foot landed on his chest and pushed what air he had left out.

The blazing sun was blocked out by a female he’s seen before around town. The light haloed her head, giving her a deadly look any female had. He gulped thickly and laid perfectly still on the ground. Nothing was going to make him move unless it was her.

Her weapon was further pressed into a vulnerable spot. It made him gag and choke for air that she barely allowed him to get. She leaned down. Long, thick, red tipped tresses tickling his chest when they touched. A predatory, throaty snarl ripped out of her with a claim.

If he didn’t feel as terrified of dying in this moment from her, he would’ve been so incredibly horny then. Instead, he watched her closely as she stayed above him, seconds away from either killing him or just teaching him a lesson.

One of her massive hands that dwarfed his own, snatched a mandible. The female pulled him up and forced his neck at an awkward, strained angle. “Ooman is mine!” she snapped and tugged on the mandible. For a moment, he believed she was going to break it off. The Yautja released her hold on him and stepped away. He finally was able to breath in a lungful of air.

The female walked over to the ooman and left him to his storm of thoughts. If all females were like this, he’ll need some time to prepare for the upcoming mating season. Paya, bless him.

After the first sound of commotion, you had watched the whole thing through. By God, she didn’t help your situation at all. The dirty thoughts that plagued your mind were an indication of what Gawtin does to you. She made it worse as she strode over to you, plucked you from the ground, and forced you to wrap your legs around her. Well, the best you could with how wide they were.

Gawtin threaded her fingers through your hair and pulled on the strands. Your throat was left to be completely exposed to her. Sharp teeth mindfully pierced the fragile skin that lined the column of your throat. The muscles that lined your legs clenched around you, hips accidentally jutting against her. Pleasure sparking to life.

Curse words were swirling inside of your head, unable to escape. Blood pooled into drops from the newly created wound. A pink, spilt tongue was quick to lick it up. Gawtin purred heavily at the taste and kept you exposed for her to steal more. As she did, her purple eyes found the male she had pinned earlier watching. Not a sound or a move was made as she just stared. The Yautja’s eyes darted away. He had learned his lesson.

This was her ooman.

A massive hand shoved you firmly against the edge of the counter. In reaction, you yelped at the sudden movement. Then, a sturdy body pressed into your backside and kept you trapped. Immediately, you knew who it was, felt the familiar heat roll of her form, heard a husky growl filling your ear.

It hadn’t been long after the two of you arrived back home. Gawtin had made a pit stop to good ol’ Bziut-ty’s and little Qui-oky had been dropped off. Bziut-ty had said something to her sister in Yautja. It was far too hush-hush for you to understand. You were also high strung after her display earlier. That hadn’t gone away as you stayed still for Gawtin as she had you pinned.

Embarrassingly enough, you felt yourself clench around nothing. More slick drenched your underwear. You felt the predator behind you tense, chest expanding to take in more air to smell you. Gawtin hunched over you and forced your body further up the counter.

The floor left the bottom of your feet. The edge of the tile counter bit into your waist yet not in an uncomfortable way.

Fingers curled into your waist band and pulled. One simple move tore your clothing from your body. They were thrown off to the side. That same hand grasped the back of your knee and tugged up that leg. Gawtin had your thigh pressed into your side, cunt more exposed for her.

Before continuing with you, she stood up. Barely a second passed and you were turning your head to see her undress herself. Every piece of clothing removed to expose her perfectly formed frame that has borne many children. A feat that had you swooning for her even more. So breathtaking.

A new thought entered your mind. It had you acting it out before Gawtin could pin you back down. Yet, the moment you started to shift around, a mighty hand was placed on your spine and had you restrained. “Gawtin, I want to see you,” you explained with a pathetic whine, filled with hunger for her. She was hesitant before removing her palm, fingers featherlight as they traveled down. They skimmed over the swell of your butt cheeks and fell away.

Now, with a new opportunity, you were able to twist around on the counter. Gawtin’s naked body stood before you in all of her glory, muscles twitching as she eyed you. Your eyes drifted down, admiring every mark and scar that decorated her. Until you noticed something that wasn’t part of her. You bit at your bottom lip and almost tore at the skin there.

Her bottom mandibles twitched before she lunged.

You groaned at the added weight she carefully placed upon your small frame. Gawtin was fit snug between your legs. The feel of something hard rubbed between your slick folds, coating itself for your benefit. Gawtin distracted you and nibbled on your shoulder. Scratches were created, red and irritated looking. You moaned and tilted your head back, exposing more to her in hopes she do more.

The move pulled on the newly clotted bite that she had created. You couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs around her waist.

“I will mark you up. So, no male will even think about getting close to you. You are my ooman. Mine to begin with. Mine to pauk. Mine to please. Mine to mark,” she stated with no room for arguing. Not that you would. What she had said was the truth. Gawtin licked a stripe up from the crook of your neck towards your chin. That’s where she let a lower mandible pressed into the sensitive skin there. Not yet piercing there.

“He could smell you. Smell your honeyed scent fill the air around you.” It took you a moment to process what she said and even longer to connect the dots. She had wanted you to go with her out there. Of course, you were more than willing to go.

She nipped particularly hard at the back of your neck. “Ah! Fuck… you wanted to t-tease them. DI-hm. Didn’t you?” you questioned but already knew the answer. An easy read about her.

A hand shimmed its way between your two bodies and cupped your breast. “What I wanted was to pin you down in front of that male and mate you. No one would dare get close to you again.” God, she was so hot when she talked like that. Your cunt throbbed emptily. In the moment, you would’ve probably let her. But you would have to test that when sober and horny.

Sharp nails teased your nipples. With Gawtin pressing her body into you, you couldn’t arch your back. You couldn’t handle it anymore. “Stop teasing me, Gawtin. I need you inside of me,” you demanded and squirmed underneath her.

Talons bit into the flesh around your breast. This time, her teeth sunk into your flesh and drew a pitiful cry from your lips. Both of your hands came to scratch down her back, leaving nothing in their wake.

Gawtin pulled back to admire her work and watched as red blood pooled at the new wound and dripped down on to the counter. The Yautja leaned back down licked along the marks. Iron met her tongue. She groaned from deep in her chest, eyes hooded over.

Your hands slid down to her hips where the harness rested and pulled. The predator didn’t more an inch. Yet, Gawtin’s gaze snapped to you, eyes pinned down on you. You knew she wouldn’t feel this. It didn’t stop you from grasping the thick, textured, long dildo attached to the harness. The silicone like material was slippery as you stroked it.

“You are a needy little ooman, are you not?” she whispered into your ear, tongue licking the shell. Gawtin let her right hand drift down the length of torso; nails scratching along the way, making you wiggle and writhe. She moved your hand out of the way before letting her two middle fingers tease your entrance. Your back muscles tensed as you tried to arch off of the tile counter with little luck.

With those same two digits, she pushed into you. The sound it made had you burying your face into her neck. She let you. Her fingers – claws dull – curled once about two inches in. The pleasure that sprung to life had you gasping harshly and biting more at your lip. Gawtin started up a sawing motion, slow and mindful. Every three thrusts, she would stop to press her fingertips into that spot. The coordination and speed had you whimpering and keening, hips jutting to meet her. With a simple shift of her body, she had you trapped. You had to turn to different methods.

“Faster,” you begged and forcefully clenched your muscles around her digits. Gawtin listened. Her speed doubled yet she still took time to play with your g-spot.

It took you some time to finally feel the pressure building inside of you. It almost felt like an orgasm but not. At this point, it was far too late to warn her of the enviable as it hit you full force. You tried to curl in on yourself and buried your face into her neck. Gawtin didn’t stop, she refused to. Her fingers solely focused on your g-spot now until you begged her to stop. She did.

You sagged into the counter, legs falling away from her sides and head resting on the tiles. Your eyes were heavily hooded over as you took a moment to breathe and gather your thoughts once more.

The Yautja above you pulled her hand from between your legs and lapped away at the sticky fluid that coated her fingers. You couldn’t help the whine that built up in your throat before biting once more at your lips. Gawtin leaned back down and placed her elbow back next to your head. “I know you smell divine when you are in heat but the taste… Paya, can’t save you from me.”

With that stated, Gawtin shifted her hips back. Her free arm snaked between your two bodies. The tip of the dildo pressed against your entrance for a moment. Then, she sinks it into you.

An overwhelming wave of emotions crashed into you. Your hands clawed at her back, not creating a mark. That didn’t stop Gawtin from pushing further and further into you. “You can take it, you’ve done it before,” Gawtin cooed softly into your ear. She went slow, careful. Every time she felt resistance, she pulled back to the tip and started all over again. Your eyes were rolling into the back of your head as you panted heavily with whines and moans.

“Just a little more.” Then, Gawtin’s hips met yours in a soft clash. With that same free hand, she placed her palm below where your uterus would be and pushed with a bare fraction of her strength. Your muscles rippled down the length of the textured dildo pressing into your cervix. You couldn’t stop the gasp from escaping again. “How does that feel? Can you feel me deep inside of you?” she asked if you could coherently answer.

One look down at you was enough for Gawtin to pull her hips back, to the tip of the dildo and shoving it deep. You desperate, filthy noise released from your throat, echoing back down at you. And she didn’t stop. Deep, fast, and punishing.

Each slap of her hips created ripples down your thighs. Red skin appeared instantaneously with each stinging thrust. Gawtin, the goddess herself, had you singing her name in broken syllables. “Good! So good. Shit, I- You’re so deep!” you sobbed and babbled.

The texture was dragging across your g-spot with each move. Gawtin moved her hand to have a thumb resting on the hood of your clit. The pressure alone had your muscles throbbing. Then, she started to softly rub the callous pad of her thumb.

Fireworks exploding inside of you without warning. A scream entered the air and bared back down on you. But you were already deaf, white noise filling your ears. Nothing blocked your view of Gawtin hunched over you, mandibles twitching with unspoken words. Her tongue darting out quickly tasting the air. The next moment, her head darted down out of the corner of your sight. Pain pulsed in heady waves. Her hips still pounding into you without any indication of stopping, even as your high started to faded.

You weren’t given a moment to rest as Gawtin straightened her back to tower over you. Red coated her inner teeth. This freed up her other hand which was quick to wrap around your throat. It was the only thing keeping you from crashing into the wall behind you.

She continued to rub at your clit, keeping the same pace as before. Every few swipes though, she would press down hard. It sent a shockwave of pleasure up your spine and to the tips of your fingers and toes. You mewled, toes curling and knuckles turning white.

All you could see through the tears beginning to pool was someone passionate about you. Every slap of her hips had you blabbering for either more or for her to stop. In the moment, you couldn’t tell. And it didn’t matter. She was all you needed right now.

Your pussy was still throbbing from the earthshattering orgasm earlier when you felt the tall tale signs of another one. Words fumbled from your loose lips, unable to form anything worth listening to. In all honesty, she looked to be smirking down at you. Your hands – unable to reach for her – claws pathetically at the tiles underneath you. Nothing gave you purchase for what was soon to hit you worse than a planet.

The noises that pierced because of you grew in pitch again. Your chest heaved quicker and quicker, the air whistling from your nose. You were switching from breathing through your nose and mouth. Anyway to quiet your sounds just hare. Gawtin wasn’t having any of that. Why else would the window close by open?

The Yautja’s hand pinched the side of your neck tighter, restricting blood flow to your brain. All thoughts of staying a minute of modesty were thrown out and forgotten. Your sounds grew and grew with each pound of her powerful hips. She could feel how wet you were as it coated her waist and thighs thickly. She softly trilled at the knowledge she and the kitchen will smell like you for the days to come.

With all the signs of your end nearing, the massive alien leaned back down. “You are mine, ooman. Mine!” She emphasize with a few particularly hard and deep thrusts that rubbed perfectly against your g-spot. “Mine to pauk. Mine play with. Mine to care for! All. Pauk-de. Mine!”

As she saw your eyes permanently roll into the back of your head, she lunged once more. Her teeth harshly sink into your soft, malleable flesh. The sharp talons on the hand around your throat scratched and drew more blood. A mess to be cleaned up later.

You screamed out again, voice hoarser this time, cracking at times. All of your muscles contracting as you were hit with a breath taking, shockwave filled orgasm that touch you to your soul. Your hands were desperately claws at tough scales, doing little to even cause discomfort. The muscles that made up your cunt pulsed with each beat of your heart. So strong, it felt like you were on the verge of pushing her out of you. Or trying to pull her impossibly deeper inside of you.

Once the fall began to happen, your body went completely lax in her hold. Your arms were strewn out to your sides, legs hanging helplessly over the edge of the counter. It was only her keeping you up, from slipping to the floor in bile of a boneless body.

Gawtin kept snug inside of you and let the last of the aftershocks faded away. Afterwards, the soaked dildo was pulled free. You keened, body trembling. It dripped heavily with your sticky, thick fluids. Your goddess pulled at the harness until it became loose and tossed into the skin nearby. It would be cleaned, but she had more important things to worry about now.

Two strong, firm arms scooped up your thighs and threw them over her shoulders. You didn’t have even the energy to make a noise of question on what she was doing. Until her long tongue lick up between your rubbed raw folds. You cried out. A hand shaking as you reached out to claws desperately at her. You didn’t have enough strength and let it fall away, boneless.

That same tongue drifted over your clit and sent an overstimulation wave of pleasure throughout your body. Your hips squirmed. Gawtin kept a steel hold on your thighs and started to feast upon you.

Each swipe of her tongue had you pathetically crying out with tears staining your face. “This pussy is mine.” Lick. “Your ass is mine.” Another lick. “Your heart is mine.” Her tongue pushed into your soaked cunt to scoop out what she could get. “Your body is mine.” She dove into you again. The muscle rolled against your g-spot.

Fluid squirted out to cover the dome of her head. Gawtin snarled and plunged back into you with a passion you’ve never seen before. You continuous sobbed out incoherent words. She didn’t stop until you were licked clean.

She scooped you off of the counter and held you to her body protectively. One arm underneath your knees while the other was across your back. In this position, she carried you to the bedroom and set you down in the sea of pelts and blankets. All collected by her. For you.

Fingers danced over the cuts and bites that marred the skin on your shoulders and neck. You drew in a sharp breath with your eyes closed. Some of Gawtin’s tresses rested on your chest or rolled off of your body as she leaned down. Her tongue cleaned over the wounds before she pulled away a couple of minutes later.

Your eyes finally opened. A knowing look thrown carelessly up at her. Gawtin caressed your cheek with a thumb. “I won’t apologize for marking you up, everyone should know you’re taken,” she determined.

An airy snort escaped you. You couldn’t your eyes rolling because of her. “I-I won’t ex-pect you to, love,” your voice cracked, dried and scratched from screaming. You attempted to swallow any saliva down to help.

“Good.” Gawtin stood up gracefully, as if she didn’t just pound you into next week. Her hips swayed as she strode away from you. Your eyes fully watching that naked ass jiggle with each step. God, you’re just as bad a man.

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