#i love the old dykes so much

[chihuahuagirlfriend]

On Sunday my older lesbian friend mentioned her friend Max and I had to stop her 2 sentences later when I figured out it was Max Dashu!!! Internationally known women's spiritual figure Max Dashu!!!

[crimeronan]

started writing the raine and eda confrontation and. it really is incredible what a Fucking Mess eda is. i'm not even doing it on purpose, like it's not part of my chapter outline. she just sees raine and immediately all thoughts, feelings, and rationality fly out the window. eda is like "i'm gonna have a calm discussion with my ex" and she plans for it and thinks about it and truly means it, like she really is as well-prepared as she could be.

and then raine shows up and eda is immediately like "lmao, omg. isn't it crazy how luz looks like she could be our daughter????"

[theygender]

Accidentally dressed too masc when I went to the salon and the hair stylist gave me a cis guy mullet 😭

[skrunksthatwunk]

do you guys know that video of the very very southern man comforting his dog after he threw up in his truck. im not great with accents but i think he's from louisiana bc he sounds a bit like my grandpa. i miss him...

[palukoo]

damn can’t believe we lost both the model AND the marriage broker in round 1 of hot vintage polls

[gay-otlc]

Literally shoutout to my elder butch for being the best person ever

[plantdad-dante]

Book #145 - Der Schimmelreiter by Theodor Storm

[english title: The Rider On The White Horse] (a PSA to all (future) teachers: this is not a good book for 8th graders. this is not the first classic that any kid should read. there are better ways to explain what a framing narrative is, please.)

A thing that I have realized over the last few months (possibly starting with something I wrote about Hold Me Closer, funnily enough) and which has definitely festered into full-on brain damage since then...

I love reading. I love books. I love stories. (Yes, I know, duh, but hear me out.)

Up until now, these things were true, yes, but in a more limited way. I loved reading good books. I loved reading stories that I liked, that I related to, that made me feel warm and fuzzy and good (or that completely devastated me emotionally, which is equally valid). And I liked it enough to not have it soured by books I ended up not liking. I liked the quiet of reading, I liked that I didn't need electronics to do it, I liked that it didn't chain me to a sofa for a minimum and maximum of two hours. In short, I liked the convenience, the ubiquity and the comfort of books that lit up my brain.

Unfortunately, it has kind of come to pass that that is now... uh. Every Book. Like, I still have opinions and biases and and personal taste, but now I love reading whether or not I like the book I'm reading right now. I have fallen in love with the thing itself, and I refuse to climb back out of this hole.

Btw, wanna know how I know all that? The Rider On The White Horse is boring as shit! Or it should be, if I were still sane. Because this book is mainly just about a weird dude who becomes this official (dikeduke??) and builds a family and a dyke. And a lot of pages are spent on this dude doing his official business, planning and drawing schemes for his dyke and getting permits and having local spats with his neighbors.

Like, the most interesting thing here by far is the framing narrative through which we know that this dude will somehow end up being a ghost story to scare grown men in a pub near the dyke half a century later. And it is spooky and atmospheric, yes, but remember that, in between that, the narrator insists on telling us in detail about the process of building a dyke, and about planning meetings, and about every spat he has with this one dude who hates him for no reason, and ugh. And still, I ate it up.

Half the book, before they get married, he has this sorta cute romance with his future wife, and it is mainly just them talking and having similar interests and holding hands and she is teasing him but also standing up for him, and she helps him into that official position for which they are both intellectually qualified (but, well, 1888. but hey, she can do math and doesn't get ridiculed for it, so yaaay). And she is wicked smart and them doing this shy little dance around each other is actually really sweet and the first time my brain mentioned that to me I kinda just  had to stare at a wall for a while because what

Do you see my point? I am gushing. About a book. That is a 100 page snore fest. And this was just a taste, I could go on for at least twice as long again.

(help me)

[dolldefiler]

Masterlist

Other

10K announcement + hand pics

I MELT AT NECK BITES

I bow down to polaroid girls

New kinks inside new fans

New hobbies

Face reveal #1

Face reveal #2

Guiding others to a treasure I don't possess

Me on most days

I'm part of the cool kids

5k announcement

Girls with chokers are so hot

Pretty girls blow my mind

100 announcement

Somnophilia/ Intox (inc. rape variants)

Drugging a girl over time

She's a people pleaser

Netflix in bed or a violent, drunken rape?

You're so beautiful, I need to fuck you even when you're tired

Filling the void in your heart and date raping you

Incesty, icky somno fucking (reallly icky)

Waiting for you to fall asleep

Fucking my sleepy sister (incest obvs)

Your brother drugs and fucks you (incest)

Drink as much as you want (incest again lol)

An older man using you while you sleep

Daddy's going to slip a sedative in your drinks one day (incest)

I'm sorry for waking you up in the middle of the night

You wouldn't fall asleep if you didn't trust me (rape)

Drugging you and raping your ass (rape)

Incest/ Incesty/ 'Daddy stuff'

Marrying my daughter

You can call me dad

Manipulating my older sister into bending over

Fucking my little sister while our parents sleep

Seducing my grown up rape baby (mentions of rape)

Reclaiming my daughter on her wedding night (cheating technically)

My sister brings me fresh pussy every week

Daddy's going to knock you up

Teaching my sister to fuck and letting her drink my piss

Teaching you to grind on a plushie I've gifted you

Your parents disciplining you

Daddy cheering you up after you've been cheated on

You've become so good at sucking my cock

Where do you feel your daddy issues?

Daddy's going to give himself grandkids

My dumb little whore's fucked up her college grades (misogyny)

Daddy wakes you up and fucks your lewd body

You can take Daddy's cock in your ass

Good parents will always fuck their daughters

Daddy talking about your date with him today

Fucking my daughter's best friend

Dressing my partner up like a little girl

My fucked up little family

Teasing my little sister at dinner

Hearing my daughter while I fuck her mom

Can't fit these into existing categories exactly

Reading my posts in school

Stalking my blog with a hand pressed against your pussy

You want to be your boyfriend's sextoy?

Keep track of the orgasms while I overstimulate you

I love the duality of a woman (wholesome praise/ degradation mix)

Making a girl lewder by covering her face first (misogyny/ dumbification)

Stretching out your asshole to my gross words (degrading)

I tracked you down to a club (manipulative/ possessive)

Having you clean up your mess while we study (kind of degrading)

I'll brutally fuck you the way you deserve

Claiming you in front of my friends (exhibitionism/ possessive)

The only god you worship is me (religion)

Someone's on the other side of the door (exhibitionism)

Grooming a (legal) teen (icky icky language)

The right sort of maths in your head

Happy birthday! (degrading language)

Old people fucking (really wouldn't recommend reading this)

A foray into the incel mindset

A virgin needs her holes used

You're not allowed gangbangs (possessive/ obsessive)

The first step in turning my partner freeuse

My harem of women competing for my attention

Reclaiming you (possessive/ obsessive)

Trad wife (misogynistic)

The perfect mutually toxic relationship (rapey)

How I'd make my sub earn her collar

Two women restraining you

Don't hide that gross porn you're watching from Daddy

Gaslighting fun #1

Gaslighting fun #2

Mind fucks are amazing

Teaching maths

Manipulating you with soft, sweet words

Teacher x student manipulation

Changing in front of my dyke friend (mild cheating)

Your boss gaslights you into staying

Hand comparison ask

Older women

Misgendering my trans guy friend

Threesome Proposal

Harem Group Sex

[blushedfemmes]

what if…. forcebutch, but without the ties and suits and crisp buzzcuts. forcebutch because i want to take a perfectly nice girl and mold you into the slobby stoner housebutch of my dreams. i will encourage and, if necessary, force you to let go of the need to always be neat and pretty and presentable. stop shaving and wearing makeup, yes, but also stop caring so much about how you look. i want you to be comfortable. and it’s hot, i can’t help it. i’m weak for contrast. i love to walk into the apartment in my elegant femme office wear and find you messy-haired and unshowered and stoned out of your mind in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday. (i’m also funding your weed habit, of course, and the sky’s the limit.)

i’ll dress you up for dates every once in a while, we both know you clean up nice. but being my kept butch means letting me keep you however i want, and i want you like this. i want you barefoot in boxers and an old t-shirt and letting me run the household. maybe i give you a few easy chores to complete. but if you forget or get too high there’ll be no punishment, i’m just going to find it endearing. and if i’m honest it’ll turn me on. because that will mean i was successful in uninstalling your anxiety, your perfectionism, and your transformation into a neet stoner dyke is complete. you’re just my adorable housebutch and i need nothing more from you than the pleasure and power of keeping you that way

[kirqro]

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི’ Streamer!Ellie

warnings || none !!

lower case intended

{ I LOVE streamer els :’( }

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⭒˚｡ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⭒˚⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⭒˚｡⋆⭒˚｡⭒˚｡⋆ ⭒˚｡⋆

✮ streamer!ellie ' who's set up is either a really shitty web cam or top tier. Either way she def takes pride in it !

જ⁀➴

✮ streamer!ellie ' who watches shitty reality tv shows on stream and her reactions to the scenes def had a part of her blowing up.

જ⁀➴

✮ streamer!ellie ' was really insecure when she was just starting out streaming , like poor baby would tape up her camera up in fear it would randomly turn on ;((

જ⁀➴

✮ streamer!ellie ' who after hitting a milestone finally did a face reveal and was shaking in her boots.

She was just yapping to yap lwky.. because of how nervous she is

"So chat are we perhaps rocking with my outfit !"

જ⁀➴

✮ streamer!ellie ' who fucks around with her soundboard way to much ..

like baby be pushing buttons at the wrong time

જ⁀➴

✮ streamer!ellie ' who be fighting with her viewers sometimes..

'@elliesbigfatlefttoe - Ellie why can I SEE your armpit hair peaking out bae..'

SHE SNAPS BACK SOO QUICK

"BIG FAT WHAT? .. The fuck come bite it off for me then weirdo"

જ⁀➴

✮ streamer!ellie ' who plays a variety of games from Minecraft , Valorant , Roblox , Fortnite [ she gets called dog water by random 10 year olds.. (╥﹏╥) ] a bunch of random horror games and some rpg games.

She also does chill talking streams & random reaction videos.

LMAO SHE DEF READS FANFICS ABT HERSELFF

જ⁀➴

✮ streamer!ellie ' who EATS on fashion famous

જ⁀➴

✮ streamer!ellie ' gets herself into random ass twitter beef and just takes all the roast she gets by 10 year old arianators..

જ⁀➴

✮ streamer!ellie ' is really just a big loser

જ⁀➴

✮ streamer gf!ellie ' who after she blew up needed to introduce you to her stream , or at least make it known shes MARRIED.

ellie randomly drops the gf bomb on everyone on a random thursday stream outta no where..

୨♡୧

It was a pretty chill just chatting stream

when ellie started to give her viewers a ring tour. the pads of her fingers brushed against a certain ring on her left hand . a smirk could be seen adoring ellie's face while she slipped it off and tried to be a lil beauty guru showing the ring off.

up close in action shots as she called it..

"It's a promise ring with the wifey you know !" she said with pride forming inside her chest and a smile falling on her face.

Tik tok and wlw twitter sighed that day..

જ⁀➴

✮ streamer gf!ellie ' who soft launches you and your identity.

જ⁀➴

✮ streamer gf!ellie ' who loves when you sit in her streaming room with her ! although she tends to get a bit shy knowing your presence is there

જ⁀➴

✮ streamer gf!ellie ' who talks the most shit with you about petty drama in her community ..

"babe you'll never guess who got cancelled .."

before you could even open up your lips to ask her what happened she cut you off in an instant

"bro that dyke abigail , her ex came forward saying she gave her fucking chlamydia.. goodness dirty ass bitch"

જ⁀➴

✮ streamer gf!ellie ' who loves the way you love her. she can't ever seem to really wrap her mind around the fact that you've really stuck around with her for this long!

જ⁀➴

✮ streamer gf!ellie ' who is wife !!

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⭒˚｡ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⭒˚⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⭒˚｡⋆⭒˚｡⭒˚｡⋆ ⭒˚｡⋆

Hii bbys I acc had sm fun writing this ! soo again maybe part two ?

Again requests are wide open so pls send some !!

ILYSMM and TYSM for reading !! (∩˃o˂∩)♡

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⭒˚｡ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⭒˚⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⭒˚｡⋆⭒˚｡⭒˚｡⋆ ⭒˚｡⋆

daily click for Palestine !!

from the river to the sea Palestine WILL be free!! 🍉

[cas-writes-stuff-ig]

Cheering Her Up

f!/nb! reader x regina george (you love to make Regina feel better)

She calls you "duck" (ITS FUNNY/CUTE I PROMISE)

closeted bi Regina, and openly enby/lesbian reader

reader binds their chest with transtape/kt tape

secret relationship

cheering her up

Regina is taller than you

CONTENT: SO SO SO SORRY I KNOW IM WEIRD

Word Count: 1853

(Originally supposed to be a one shot)

kind of alludes to sex but not explicitly

Regina lets you write your own diss in her Burn Book, so Gretchen and Karen don't get suspicious as to why you're not in it. (a bit of transphobia and homophobia, t-slur/d-slur)

Past bullying and some self-deprication

Reader is a weirdo but Regina likes it

Reader likes classic rock and old hits, Regina pretends to despise it

She lashes out at you but its all good in the end :)

Reader likes to sing

Part 2 of Cheering Her Up (A Party)

a/n: this is a huge self-insert for me, I was really vibing to Bob Seger earlier (btw this is the second thing ive written in like 5 years spare me)

ALSO feel free to message or comment any feedback is appreciated 🙏

——————————————————————————————

Before the sophomore year, you were sure Regina totally despised you. She openly criticized any gay person she came across. Sophomore year, you were seated next to her in math and history, and you felt like you were going to be destroyed.

But when you came over to her house for a project, she asked "You have your first kiss yet?"

It caught you off guard. "Uh, no. Why?" your voice squeaked, although you knew she was a bitch. You were attracted to her.

She got close to your face and smirked, you could feel her breath on yours. "No reason," She grabbed the back of your head and kissed you. You didn't kiss back out of shock and Regina pulled away and went red, she opened her mouth to say something to excuse her actions, but you leaned in and kissed her again. That moment opened a whole new door for both of you.

After that, you and Regina got really close. Outside of the school halls, and in the comfort of Regina's mansion, you were secretly her best friend but also her friend with benefits. She isn't out yet either, she still has too much pride to be seen with a loser, but you don't mind waiting for her.

She was slightly nicer to you than others at school. She was actually pretty kind to you behind closed doors. She cared about you even if she never said it out loud. So about a month after you started hooking up, you were at her house and she handed you her Burn Book which was open to a blank page with only your picture on it. "I don't want Karen and Gretchen to get suspicious as to why you're not in it."

You could deal with the insults and the taunts, it never bothered you that much, so you wrote something that used to bother you 'Y/N L/N is a tranny dyke'.

The thing that did get to you was in 8th grade when you confessed to a girl, and she told everyone in your PE class that you watched girls change in the locker room. Everyone shunned you after that, but you grew thick skin. In freshman year you found your place amongst the loners and the nerds. You were content with it.

"Are you sure you want that in there?" Regina asked, what you wrote about yourself was harsh.

You nodded "Regina, I'm out of the closet already. It's a secret everybody already knows" You closed the book and handed it back to Regina and she tucked it away. "If I walk like a duck, swim like a duck, and quack like a duck, I'm probably a duck" She laughed at your joke, and you corrected yourself smiling "I mean dyke"

"You're so stupid" Regina replied, but it wasn't mean or full of scorn, she just shoved your shoulder. She changed your name to "Duck" in her contacts.

A week later you found out what your contact name was, you laughed at her a little and she got defensive "I'll change it then" and you quickly stopped laughing and took her phone.

"No no, keep it, please Regina it's cute" You yanked her phone out of her hand and tried to keep it away from her. You laughed again and ran around her room holding her phone, but she cornered you, pushing your chest, then your back hit the wall. You were breathless from running and grinned, though her face was stern. "I'm sorry, Gina. Please keep it, it's fine really"

The look on her face made you lose your confidence and you backed down, and handed her phone back, "Thanks loser" She tucked it back in her pocket, and she had a smug smile. "You're lucky I'm in a forgiving mood today" and tilted your chin up and kissed your lips.

After that day, it became one of your inside jokes, and "Duck" became one of your nicknames.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

That summer she invited you over to swim at her pool for the first time. "Hey loser, hurry up" she opened the door and led you to her pool.

You brought your only swim trunks and taped your breasts back to go swimming. She was in a tight bikini and she slipped in the pool, you took your shirt off, and she was staring at your body.

You weren't sporty, but you went to the gym, it's not like you had rock-hard abs, but you were toned and Regina hadn't seen you like that in the sunlight before, you beamed as you basked in the warm sun.

"Hey Duck, get in here" she beckoned you, you seized an opportunity to make a joke.

You bent your knees and flapped your arms a little walking back and forth at the edge of the pool "Quack quack" You giggled out. Regina cracked out a smile that evolved into laughter, her laugh warmed you more than the sunlight.

When you slipped into the pool, she was still laughing at you. "You're such a dumbass"

She splashed water at you when you tried to come and hug her in the pool. "Hey!" you yelped as the water got in your face and you splashed back.

After you just relaxed in the pool, you floated on your back, eyes closed, and sun-kissed skin. You didn't notice how Regina looked at you, but you heard water swish as she walked toward your floating body. You cracked an eye open, the sun was behind her making her look ethereal. Regina's blonde hair glowed, she looked like an angel, not the bitchy Queen Bee at school.

"Hey," you tried opening your eyes but just squinted.

She leaned down and said "Hey" back in her sweet voice and kissed you gently.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

The summer pushed you closer together, of course, she had her fair share of parties she went to with the Plastics. You were there at parties too, but you both only shot each other glances. The days she hung out with the Plastics, you missed her company.

You got your license over the summer and when you got the message that she was back home, you hopped in your Mini Cooper and drove to her house and picked her up. Though she usually drove you around in her Jeep.

"Where we heading today?" you asked as she hopped in the car

She ignored your question and her attention was on your music "Earth, Wind & Fire's 'September'? Really?" she criticized your music taste.

She buckled in and you said, "What's wrong with my music taste Regina?"

"God you really are a loser" she insulted, you could tell she was in a mood today. You were a little hurt but tried not to take it personally. "7-11 can you grab me a Diet Coke?" you nodded and started driving.

You skipped to the next song and what played was Bee Gee's "More Than A Woman" You smiled and sang along to it. Hoping Regina would get the hint you were singing it to her.

"Suddenly you're in my life, A part of everything I do. You got me workin' day and night. Just tryin' to keep a hold on you..." Your fingers tapped against the steering wheel and you moved your shoulders to the beat of the song.

She just groaned and pressed her temples, you thought she really hated it but from the corner of your eye, you saw a corner of her lip lift slightly. After seeing that you sang your heart out a little more at a red light you turned to her momentarily "More than a woman. More than a woman to me" and grinned wide.

"Hey! Keep your eyes on the road!" she pushed your head to look back at the road.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

At school when Junior year started, Regina and you acted like you two were nothing, you both devised a facade as to why you interacted at all. It was a half-truth, everyone at school thought Regina paid y/n to do their math homework. But you only did that sometimes, and usually just helped her.

Today when you met at her house she was upset about something. "Regina, what's wrong?" you asked worriedly.

"Nothing, stay out of it" she snapped at you and she stomped up the stairs to her room.

You followed her "Regina come on," she turned on her heel and looked at you angrily and lashed out.

"Why are you even here? You're not dating me, stop acting like it" She yelled at you.

You paused and your heart faltered "Regina..." you said quietly. She turned back around and she slammed her bedroom door. Regina crawled in the sheets and just went to sleep. You didn't follow her in. But you walked downstairs to her kitchen and opened her fridge.

When Regina woke up she smelled some kind of pastry downstairs and light music. She opened her door and crept down the stairs, as she approached the kitchen, she heard your humming.

The next song started to play, your back was turned and you were using her mom's apron and mittens, pulling out a batch of brownies from the oven. When you sang alone, you were cheesier and poured your heart into each song, then you placed the brownies onto a cooling rack on the island counter and pretended to hold a mic.

"Still like that old-time rock and roll. That kind of music just soothes the soul" You closed your eyes and turned around still pretending to hold a microphone "I reminisce about the days of old, with that old-time rock and roll" Regina just smiled stifling laughter.

But when you started playing air guitar, at the part with no lyrics. You heard her giggle and your eyes shot open, face reddening "Regina! You're up!" she just laughed at your incredible dorkiness and walked up to you, this was the highlight of her day.

You brushed off your embarrassment from getting caught when you saw how happy it made her. And you walked closer to her and continued to mouth the song and dance around her. Still wearing her mom's frilly apron. You took her hand and spun her around and she still laughed at your silliness.

You stopped and walked back to the counter where she followed, "Brownies?" you smiled.

"Yeah, sure" She sat down at the table and you cut two pieces out.

When you handed her a plate, she looked up at you and spoke softly "Sorry about earlier..."

You smiled softly and took her hand as you sat next to her "Its okay, don't worry about it" You let go of her hand and then asked, "You feeling better now?"

"Yeah, thanks duck" She leaned towards you and kissed your lips. "You're so fucking corny" Regina pulled away.

You smirked "You secretly love it"

"I do" She responded, you almost choked on your own spit at her admission. She reveled in your panic and took a bite of the brownie you made her.

Only you could make her smile like this, and laugh like this, you knew that, and you had your silent victory.

Part 2 of Cheering Her Up (A Party)

[gatheringbones]

[“Too many of us have chosen to live in sexually ambiguous, sexually boring, sexually dead lesbian relationships because it wasn't safe to talk about desire---desire for cock, desire for pussy, desire for leather, desire for diversity. Exploring my desire for men has led me in an interesting circle---back to my incredible passion for womyn. My queer world will have to stretch (again) to make room for my fantasies, and perhaps even an affair or two. It will have to stretch to make room for whatever I desire.

Finally I realize what I am so afraid of. I am afraid that men and penises have so much power in this heteropatriarchal world that simply desiring one can invalidate 25 years of deep womon-loving. I'm afraid that lesbianism is so fragile that it needs to be protected by an iron fence. I am afraid that by desiring a cock, I will be excommunicated, torn away from the world of womyn. I am afraid that if I allow myself to open, perhaps I will want more. This is why a lesbian wanting a man demands so much courage. Courage to stand outside of identity politics, to insist that our community grow to accept all of us.

My lesbianism is as sure and solid as the Himalayas, as predictable as the seasons and the phases of the moon, as familiar as a womon in my arms ("Wherever I go, there's one thing I know, I'm sure to have a womon around me"). My desire for men is as fleeting as good chocolate and ripe strawberries---not always available, sometimes bitter and disappointing, often intoxicating as nectar, somewhat allergic, and extremely tempting.

I can live with all these desires. I will not compromise myself again. Fitting in is less important than filling out. There is a revolution afoot, and it is stretching the parameters of the old gay life. The hundredth monkey. A friend says, "Oy, I'm not ready for this century." But she is. She is.

Just when I thought I'd made some sense of these desires for men and had come to peace with them, my ex-lover called. The butch who couldn't communicate and who could never fuck me right. She has something to share, something important, something very personal. She has decided to come out as a transgendered person---bi-gendered, s/he calls it. S/he has come to realize that s/he has both a male body and a female body. Hir language may be new, but the experience is familiar.

It was hir male body I always wanted. I'd called it butch. S/he says that when s/he is in hir male body s/he desires men; when s/he is in hir female body s/he desires womyn. In other words, s/he's as queer as a $3 bill.

Suddenly, a fog begins to clear. If I desired hir male body and hir male body desires men, and when s/he is in hir female body s/he desires womyn, then s/he must've wanted me womon to womon (or man to man?), while I wanted hir butch to femme (Dare I say, male to female?). Suddenly our sex problems become very clear.

I always felt hir switch. As I filled with desire, wanting hir hardness, her maleness, s/he would become soft, almost girly, and it was like someone pulled the plug on the bathtub, the desire leaked out of me, leaving me--us--empty.

This starts me thinking about the lover before hir. The one with the sweet curls in her hair, the big round belly, and the soft eyes. The kinky one, where anything goes. She loves my femme self, calls me bitch and desires to fell me with hardness, to force me into submission.

Somehow though, it never quite worked. I am beginning to see what went wrong. This one wanted butch/femme, boy/girl sex, and I wanted lezzie sex. I loved hir female body and wanted to touch her. S/he wanted to give me hir male body. When I tried to touch hir breasts, I was reminding hir that she was a womon and was therefore rejecting her power. The lover s/he picked after me identified as a heterosexual woman (although she too used to be a radical dyke). When my ex-lover told me this new lover wouldn't touch her (after all she did identify as straight), I thought, how terrible, such internalized homophobia. Now I am beginning to understand how, by ignoring the girl body, the boy could feel his power. It got old fast, but for a while it worked, fed the rejected boy place inside.

I began this piece saying I hadn't had a man in 15 years. I am beginning to suspect that I've had many men. They'd called themselves butches.

I suppose none of this makes sense if you just think about biological bodies. These girls definitely had female bodies, tits and ass, and oh, so lovely to touch. But there is no doubt that these womyn have also had dicks. I've never said this out loud before, because dick is a dirty lesbian word. But I have been filled by womyn's dicks, and no, they are not "just" dildos.”]

Lionheart, from wanting men, from genderqueer: voices beyond the binary, edited by Riki wilchins, 2002

[blairelythere]

Cutual Fridge: The Final Update

So, here we are. 150 cute mutuals hanging out on my fridge. Some new, some old. A rainbow mosaic of gay pride, memes, and debauchery.

To think it all started with this singular dork in the heat of a shitposting fight:

Then, there were two cuties.

And from there, the little trend caught on.

After this update here, I started to realize just how much I loved having my mutual's pfps on my fridge. All day I couldn't stop smiling at how silly and genuinely cute the whole thing was. Some of my favorite blogs were watching me make shitty sandwiches and drink too much coffee!

And it just kept growing.

And the requests got funnier, and stranger, and more endearing.

And here we are now, in its complete artistic glory.

Sometimes, it's hard to bridge the disconnect between online life and real life. Seeing how many mutuals and new friends were willing to make that little leap and be part of my everyday routine means a lot to me, even if its something as simple as becoming a sticker on my fridge. This fun little experiment pulled me out of a bad rut I've been in for a few weeks. So, thank you, everyone. Thank you for making this hellsite such a lovely place for me.

I love you, little gays in my phone (and now on my fridge) 💛💛💛

@hooid @drowsy-siren @butch-manticore

@clarificationsw @sovereign-skyy @smorzinc @cynthjam @pestisly @alicethebard @tadbitsickchickwithadick

@maythecatgirl @dyke-pollinator @jennytheghostie @turnip0revoluti0n @chaos--themralds @terraowo @original-username42 @kira-serialfaggot @shaddy-bee @glitch-frog @k1nky-r0b0t-g1rl @willowo-luna @freyjabreadwitch @echo-dislocation @spectral-ash @wizardcunt @aetheryi @captainkranos @puppymiqwerty @smallkloon @skrullkii @thatmfpenguin @internet-toon @androgynousfox @errorlyn @possiblyjuno @girlboss-war-criminal @kinderedgeisc00t @ill-posed-problem @flumperdumper @good-girl-gock @therealhoodiewearer @vissadev @epicrainbows @ne0ndawn @blandandtasteless @kivanos @i-am-fucking-desperate @justsomespiders

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Judy Garland (Meet Me In St. Louis, A Star is Born, Summer Stock)— Judy is the GOAT when it comes to classic movie musicals. The voice of an angel who deserved so much better than she got. She can sing she can dance she can act she's a triple threat. Though she had a turbulent personal life (her treatment as a child star by the studio system makes me mad as hell like Louis b Mayer fight me ((she was made to believe that she was physically unattractive by the constant criticism of film executives who made her feel ugly and who manipulated her onscreen appearance by capping her teeth and using discs in her nose to change its shape and Mayer called her "my little hunchback" like imagine hearing that as a child and not having damage)) she always goddamn delivered on screen and in any performance she gave. She began in vaudeville performing with her sisters and was signed to MGM at 13. Starting out in supporting parts especially paired with mickey Rooney in a bunch of films (she's the best part tbh) she eventually transferred to the lead role. She is best known for her starring role in movie musicals like the iconic Wizard of Oz (somewhere over the rainbow still hits hard and is ranked the top film song of all time), meet me in St. Louis (Judy singing have your self a merry little Christmas brings tears to the eyes she is that powerful), the Harvey girls (she looks like a technicolor dream and sings a catchy af song about trains), Easter parade ( dancing and singing with Fred Astaire), for me and my gal, the pirate, and summer stock ( with pal Gene Kelly who she helped when he was starting out and he helped her when she was struggling). But she also does non- singing just as well like the clock ( her first movie where she sings no songs and is an underrated ww2 era romance), her Oscar nominated a star is born ( like the man that got away she put her whole soul in that and I have beef with the fact she lost to grace kelly ((whom I love but like still not even her best work)), and judgement at Nuremberg (a courtroom drama about the nazi war criminal trials). Outside of film she made concert appearances to record-breaking audiences, released 8 studio albums, and had her own Emmy-nominated tv series. She was the youngest (39) and first female recipient of the Cecil B DeMille award for lifetime achievement in the film industry. Girl was a lifelong democrat and was a financial and moral supporter of many causes including the civil rights movement (she was at the March on Washington and held a press conference to protest the 16th street Baptist church bombings). She was a friend of the Kennedy family and would call jfk weekly often ending the calls by singing the first few lines of somewhere over the rainbow (she thought of them as Gemini twins).She was a member of the committee for the first amendment which was formed in response to the HUAC investigations. Though she died far too young and tragically she remains an icon for her work and her life. As a girl who didn't feel like i was as pretty as everyone else I have always felt a connection to Judy and I just really love her.

Patsy Kelly (The Countess of Monte Cristo, Merrily We Live, Topper Returns)—patsy kelly was a character actress best known for her brash wisecracking best friend roles, first appearing in a series of comedy shorts with thelma todd and then in a number of feature films. she was openly gay (lovers included tallulah bankhead), even candidly referring to herself as a dyke to the press on occasion and declaring she didn't intend to marry.

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Patsy Kelly:

Oh, that wry little smile! She could sing. She could dance. She could do comedy and drama. Her mother enrolled her in dancing school to distract her from playing baseball and trying to become a firefighter. At the height of her career, she burned the whole thing down (heh) by answering a reporter's softball question about why she never married with "Because I'm a dyke." She became Tallulah Bankhead's "private secretary" and by the 1960s, she was once again a prominent character actress. Remember Laura-Louise in "Rosemary's Baby"?

Judy Garland:

Judy's voice alone qualifies her for at least top ten hottest HOT VINTAGE MOVIE WOMEN. She was a truly incredible swing singer, with a stunning voice on top of her technique. Her short dark hair looked incredible in just about any style. Have I mentioned her swagger? I can’t do it justice with words. She had swagger. She was funny as hell, and clever too. Incredibly charming and cool. I adore her.

Her eyes, her voice have bewitched me

I mean how can you beat the one and only Judy? She's beautiful, her smile is contagious, the way she sings with her whole body. You can't help but love her.

Beautiful woman, love her singing voice. And she can do everything between happy or silly and angry or heartbroken

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Hii! Could you possible write something more with Emily and her partner self harming? You write it so incredibly well and I find so much comfort in it, it’s insane. Maybe Emily finding out for the very first time when her partner is actively doing it? <333

Hi, anon! I'm always happy to write hurt/comfort about self-harm. :) It's my genuine hope that it brings people comfort and helps them feel less alone. Much love to you! –illdowhatiwantthanks

Doxxed

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: BIG self-harm warning!!!, cutting, blood, mentions of past familial abuse, homophobia, bigotry, use of slurs, explicit language (please let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 2.2k

Summary: After you leave a comment in support of a Pride post, the conservative fanbase of the organization comes after you in full force. You can take a lot, but it's more than you can handle. And you're tempted to resort to old, unhealthy coping mechanisms.

One comment. One stupid, stupid comment. That’s all it had taken.

Don’t listen to the haters! Happy Pride! 🏳️‍🌈 Thanks for the support!

You’d left it thoughtlessly, carelessly even, on the Washington Nationals Instagram post for Pride. Frustrated by all the hate and homophobia in the comments, you’d left one of support. You wanted the other queer fans to know they weren’t alone, and for the social media team to know that their post meant something.

You hadn’t expected it to blow up. You hadn’t expected to be the sole target of the Nationals’ conservative fan base. The first few comments, you’d ignored:

WTH is a they?

bro, what is “they” 🙏💀😭

your an npc you cannot be talking

not a fan

I think you mean IT

the Support your dad never gave you huh?

you need to read your bible

by haters you mean 95% of the population?

So, they’d found your profile. They’d seen your pronouns listed as she/they. Your page was private, they shouldn’t have access to anything else. You took deep breaths, turning off your Instagram notifications, trying your best to ignore the red notification alerts climbing into the hundreds, then the thousands.

But the first phone call? That had taken you off guard. It was an unknown number. You shouldn’t even have picked up.

“Hello?” you’d said, so innocent, so unprepared.

“Is this Y/N Y/L/N?”

“Yes, this is she…”

“Do you mean they!? You fucking dyke. Bet your daddy diddled you when you were little, huh? That’s why you’re so fucked up now!? I could fix that real quick. You just need a real dick shoved in you. Where do you live, baby? We can arrange that! You’re disgusting. You need some real cock in your life.”

It was so aggressive, so vulgar, so quick and angry. You couldn’t have gotten a word in if you’d tried. You hung up, shocked, silent. You were used to homophobia. You were used to hate and bigotry. You’d grown up in a place where people had called you a dyke on the streets, where churchgoers pulled you aside in the grocery store to pray over your “lifestyle.” Your parents had hated you long before you came out of the closet, so their revulsion wasn’t a surprise and it didn’t hurt, not any more than they’d already hurt you.

But you were so far away from where you’d come from, and you were so used to feeling safe here. You had Emily and you had the BAU and you were, generally speaking, free to walk around and live your life as your full, truest self without fear. The fact that this phone call, the hatred that came with it, had invaded your home, your safe space–it shook you. You were physically shaken.

But the calls kept coming. Again and again. Nonstop. So many they overlapped one another. So many that your voicemail box was full. And then the emails started. You knew you shouldn’t read them, shouldn’t listen to the voicemails, shouldn’t open up Instagram and scroll through the hateful comments. But you couldn’t stop yourself. And everything you read made you feel lower. You could handle a lot of hate, but this was past your threshold. It was the comments about your family that got to you the most. How did they know!? How did they know where to hit you the hardest? Where you were already weak and wounded and it wouldn’t take much to break you?

Emily was away on a case with the BAU. You wished she was here. You’d feel better if she was with you. More solid, less affected. Somehow, the bigotry never got to Emily, not like it got to you. You knew if she was here, she’d hold you, she’d set up some sort of fancy FBI phone trace and figure out who was calling you, she’d shut down your Instagram or take your phone from you so that you wouldn't be able to read the comments. She’d tell you she loved you, that you were beautiful, perfect, exceptional. She’d tell you that what these people said about you, how they made you feel, was not real, was not who you were. She’d remind you that who your dad thought you were, how he’d treated you, what he’d done to you–that wasn’t you either. That you were hers and you were your own. You were brave and strong and beautiful. But she wasn’t here to tell you any of that, and somehow telling yourself those things didn’t carry the same weight. By the time you fell asleep that night, you were in a spiral of such self-hatred, such hopelessness, such unending anxiety at each buzz of your phone–you hadn’t felt this low since college.

When you woke up the next morning–a Saturday–you turned off your phone, determined not to let the haters get to you, to take control of the day, of your emotions. You meditated. You listened to your favorite music. You made yourself some breakfast.

You stepped outside to go on a walk, knowing that fresh air and movement would do you good, keep you from spiraling further. But you stopped dead in your tracks when you turned to shut the door behind you. Spray-painted in angry red over the door frame of your townhouse was FAGS BURN IN HELL.

You went back inside and slammed the door behind you, trying not to cry. Too much. It was all too much. They had your socials. They had your email. They had your phone number. And now they knew where you lived. Every bit of safety and security you’d worked so hard to build here seemed to be crumbling around you, and there was nothing you could do about it.

And you knew then, like you were watching a film of yourself, watching something that had already happened, that you would go to the bathroom. You would take out a fresh razor blade, and you would drag it across the skin of your forearm. That you would bleed, and the blood would be the tears you didn’t let yourself cry. Just like it had been all those years ago, when you hid from your dad in the bathroom. Like it was in college when you figured out you were gay and hated yourself for it. Like it had been when your dad had died and you’d gone to his funeral and you’d lied and told Emily the wounds were from the barn cat scratching you.

It was magnetic, inevitable almost. The more you fought, the more you hated yourself for not being able to resist, which only made you crave the sharpness more. You looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror and wondered at how easy it was for everything to fall apart around you. The self-confidence, the security, the life you’d spent years, decades even, building, it all seemed to be crumbling. From one stupid comment.

You held the blade to your arm, a little shaky, knowing that once you did it, you wouldn’t be able to take it back. The line of blood was familiar, almost a relief, the pain an old friend, one that you’d kept away for so, so long. You hated yourself for doing it. You hated yourself for enjoying it. But you enjoyed the hating, too.

So focused were you on the lines, the series of parallels and perpendiculars you were carving lightly into yourself, that you didn’t hear the front door open, didn’t hear Emily call your name, voice dripping with concern having seen the angry message. You didn’t notice her at all until she was at the bathroom door, eyes wide and panicked, frozen. Before you could react, she’d lunged forward, grabbed your hand, and squeezed, forcing you to drop the razor blade. Her voice came to you as if through water, blurry and hazed and distant, as she wrapped your bloody arm in a towel.

“Honey, stop, stop!!” she called, frantic and shaky. “What are you doing!?”

The moment you made eye contact with her–and saw how scared you’d made her–you broke. Tears streamed down your face and you choked back sobs, sinking to the bathroom floor. Emily lowered herself with you, making sure to keep your arm tightly wrapped, caressing your face with her free hand.

“Hey,” she cooed. “It’s okay. What’s going on? Can you tell me? Please talk to me, baby. Please.”

You didn’t answer, couldn’t seem to catch your breath or find your voice. You simply buried your head in the crook of her neck, trying to regain some semblance of security.

Emily rubbed your back, resting her chin on your head. “Is it about the writing on the door?”

You nodded, sucking in a shaky breath.

“I’ll get someone to take care of it, okay? But… honey, why did that make you… why did you want to… hurt yourself?”

“It’s not just the door,” you confided, sniffling. “It’s the phone calls and the emails and the fucking Instagram comments.”

“Wh–?” Emily sounded deeply confused, even as she ran her fingers through your hair, placed kisses at the top of your head.

“I left one comment, Em, on some stupid fucking baseball Pride post to say, like, Happy Pride! Thanks for not being bigots! And all the fucking bigots in DC came out of the woodwork to dox me.”

Emily exhaled, mind racing. First, she had to keep you safe from yourself. Then she needed to keep you and her and your home physically safe. Then she needed to get your digital safety under control. Emily was a fixer at heart. And she was determined to make you feel safe again.

“And why the fuck do they keep bringing up my dad!?” You choked out another sob.

Understanding flooded through Emily, and she held you a little tighter, a little closer. It was your dad. That’s what had really triggered you. You were used to homophobia. But you hated being reminded of your dad. Emily rubbed her thumb along the bloodied towel around your forearm, a realization sinking in, one that broke her heart.

“This isn’t the first time you’ve hurt yourself,” she whispered, more to herself than to you. It devastated her. How could she protect you from yourself? From your past? She couldn’t go back and change it, no matter how desperately she wanted to.

You could hear the heartbreak in her voice, and guilt flooded into all the hurt places inside you, all the places the blood had left empty. You buried your face in your hands.

“I’m sorry, Em,” you cried, shrinking into yourself. “I’m so sorry.”

But the more you tried to squirm away, the harder she held you. “Hey,” she soothed. “It’s okay. I’m sorry. I’m sorry you’ve been through things that make you want to hurt yourself.”

Her voice broke, and you wrapped your arms around her waist, your instinct to comfort her kicking in. She was shaking, you realized. She was scared.

“But, baby, please don’t shut me out,” she continued. “I’ll do whatever it takes, okay? Just… I don’t… I don’t know how to protect you from you.”

You sat up and looked at Emily, her eyes now swimming with tears. “Emily,” you said softly, wiping her eyes with your thumbs. “That’s not your job.”

“It is my job,” she insisted. “It’s always my job to keep you safe.”

You exhaled shakily, lifting your arm to wet a rag at the sink, and handing it to Emily, uncovering the angry red cuts on your arm. You pulled gauze and medical tape out of the bottom cabinet drawer and set those next to you.

“Here,” you said, extending your arm, knowing that Emily would feel better with something tangible to do to help you.

She dabbed at your arm with the rag, her fingers gentle and cool against your skin.

“It’s not something you can fix, Em,” you told her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she focused on your wounds, eyes swimming. “I need to go back to therapy.”

She nodded, deep in thought, smoothing the gauze over your wound, and carefully taping it in place.

“But you could get Penelope to shut down the internet trolls?” you suggested, venturing a smile. Your heart wasn’t in it yet, but you knew that with Emily here, it would be soon.

Emily ran her fingers over your arm, placing a small kiss on the bandages. She smiled at you, sad and determined and angry and scared, and squeezed your hand. “Oh, I will fucking end the trolls. Starting with the asshole who fucked up our door. Bet that idiot’s not expecting the FBI to come knocking.”

You giggled, and she pressed her forehead to yours and, for just a moment, everything was okay.

You knew that Emily couldn’t make you better. She wasn’t magic. And even the best relationships couldn’t take away all the hurt of the past. But Emily made it easier for you to make yourself better. She made you want to do the work. And, for that–and for so many other reasons–you’d love her forever.

[leonsdoll]

hiii i was wondering if i could make a fic rec for hazel where hazel and reader go to a party and reader gets hit on by a jock that won’t leave her alone and hazel gets jealous and protective of reader

JEALOUS GIRL

--------------------------------------------------

plot: some jock won't leave you alone and hazel has to intervene

warnings: men, harassment, also not proof read

word count: 0.6k

notes: this is my first request I literally did 4 backflips when I got the notification, I hope you like it anon!!🫶🏼

--------------------------------------------------

you had no idea why you were here, you hate parties, they're loud and smell like sweaty teens who are apparently allergic to deodorant. hazel had dragged you here so you could have some fun, the "fun" you were having was sitting on an uncomfortable couch waiting for your girlfriend to be done talking with some old classmate.

you felt the left side of the couch sink, 'oh good hazel's back' you thought, you turned your head and saw some guy on the football team, are you fucking kidding me. he introduced himself and you gave him a nod and a dry hello, he kept and kept talking, 'hey sorry I gotta go now' you gave him a small smile before getting up from the couch just to feel two hands grab your waist and pull you back down. you immediately pushed yourself off of him and backed up.

hazel had been keeping an eye on you from afar making sure nothing like that would happen, when she saw him do that she mumbled a curse under her breath and quickly said goodbye. finally out of the corner of your eye you saw hazel say goodbye and walk back over to you, as she was walking back he was still trying to "talk you up", he put his hand on your thigh and that was hazel's last straw. she ran up to you guys and pulled you up from the couch.

'hey what the fuck dude' the generic looking jock shouted, hazel scoffed and rolled her eyes, 'you know not every girl is at your dispose' she shouted back, she slid her hand around your waist and stared to walk away holding you tight, 'have fun dykes!' he yelled back at her, hazel quickly turned around and walked back up him, punching him square in the nose, you covered your mouth in shock let out a chuckle, hazel hissed in pain and saw her knuckles turn red. when he got back up hazel saw the anger in his face grabbed your hand and sprinted away.

you ran out of the party and quickly unlocked hazel's car and jumped in the front seat, she turned on the car and started driving away, her hair still messed up and still laughing, you looked in the review mirror and saw him behind your car with a bloody nose, you turned to hazel and she still had that rush of adrenaline, 'hazel you punched him!' you tried to hold your laugh. when her laugher died down she put her hand on your thigh, 'hey I hope you know I'll always defend you, even against buff assholes like him' she said keeping her eyes on the road.

when you eventually got to your house she parked in your drive way, you unbuckled your seatbelt and she opened the door to you bowing, you giggled and got out of the car gently closing the door to not wake your parents, at your front door she pulled you into a tight hug. 'I'm gonna miss you soo much' she mumbled into your neck, you chuckled and let her go from your embrace, 'hazel your gonna see me tomorrow at school' she put her hand around your hips and with the other one gently cupped your face with her hands. she kissed you with passion, still holding you tight, your lips stay connected for a couple more seconds before pulling away. you looked into her eyes and just giggled.

'what's so funny?' she questioned with a grin on her face, 'nothing I just love you so much' her gaze softened and stoked your soft cheek with her thumb, 'i love you too'.