#lesbians who hike

[aimeekb]

Yosemite comes to life at sunrise

[mrskywalkers-chanelboots]

i had an idea for a dinluke summer camp au where they’re both camp counselors at a sleep away camp (inspired vaguely by my own experiences since that’s my summer job lol) and din’s the motorsports counselor (dirt bikes and go-karts) that’s quieter, more reserved with a lot of camp experience that campers respect and luke is the first-timer counselor on either the ropes or waterfront team (i haven’t decided which yet but they just make sense,,,, or fencing idk) who is charming and well-loved by all campers, likely a boy scout (but this is not scout camp). basically in this au it’s either they’d be co-counselors for the same cabin (and they were co-counselors) or they’re like the heads of the color war teams and have a jesting enemies to lovers kind of deal. i think if i did actually write this i’d have to do a lot of planning because i’m psycho about camp stuff and i would make the camp co-ed and not a gender-exclusive one like mine is because i think it would be more fun and i can add all the female characters i want and maybe have a lesbian b-plot who knows but actually this would be so cute

[val-and-vera]

Ok hiking with you wife is the best! We always have so much fun getting out an exploring together! Just two nature-loving queers who might have their flannels open;)

[casiavium]

it's so weird going from my undergrad program which was predominantly queer people to my ma which has been overwhelmingly straight. no offense how am I suppose to care about how you married your state trooper husband for his insurance when I'm still thinking about my friend who had to break up with her ex gf because the ex gf kept getting invited to underground bdsm dungeons in colonial fucking williamsburg (for 100% school related reasons btw) and she did not want to hear about other people having a better sex life than her

[im-bi-this-is-my-life]

The Smallest Things Can Be The Most Beautiful If You Take The Time To Look

[heart-bones]

scrolling endlessly on dating apps and trying to find someone who's not into Marijuana 24/7 feels like an Impossible Endeavor.

I know its good for a lot of people but the smell of it makes me Physically, Viscerally, Sick and I really hate it.

[girlspecimen]

me when normies compliment me genuinely but then im overcome with guilt remembering im a weirdo who runs a tumblr aesethetic blog where i post 24/7 about being a fujoshi and a furry. and i still like the yaribu theme song (secret)

[cryptidspaz]

happy pride month bitches

[aimeekb]

Find me frolicking in the woods

[dykegeology]

Just had a dream where I met a butch lesbian vampire who was an expert on syncaridans and she took me hiking in the rainforest to find syncaridans in the creeks there. ok.

[wheelie-butch]

I love Lyke's big coat of pockets obviously but also I HC him as a he/him butch lesbian so my next thought was... what if cargo shorts.

Anyone's welcome to use or build on this design for fanart / fics :)

[Image ID: a pencil sketch of Lyke from Sangfielle. He is stood with his legs apart, holding up a jar with Aterika'Kaal in it that he is appraising with a smile. His body is thin and bony. He has light skin with freckles on his cheeks and shoulders, small, pointed breasts, visible leg and underarm hair, a pointy nose, slight sideburns, midlength black hair, and spider tattoos on his right arm.

He wears a wizard hat with pockets on, a pair of goggles, a dangly earring, a light vest with no bra underneath that has ridden up slightly to reveal his stomach hair, a large dark protective glove on his left hand, large cargo shorts with many pockets haphazardly arranged, a belt that is too long, tall, rumpled socks, and hiking boots. Tombo in his ball is attached to his belt by a carribena. End ID.]

[oh-captn]

knight of doc martens

[kaylor]

Taylor and Joe look like a couple……of gay besties.

i can tell she's been watching love island bc she thinks wearing matching outfits is romantic

[oh-positive]

So awkward. I'm a nsfw blog and from Alberta and love to go hiking. So I was liking all your top posts thinking they were cool and you were cute until I saw a picture of you with a lesbian tag. So I unliked everything so you wouldn't feel weird.

[flkwh0re]

The Devil Wears a Suit and Tie.

Contains smut.

Warnings: Readers age is not specified but she is of age, Homophobia, Blood, Puking (reader only does it once while crying), Abuse, Mentions of death, Breif thoughts of suicide, Religion, Use of a slur (once), Nat gaslights reader, Nat punches reader to knock her out, Blasphemy, Dubcon (Nat begins to fuck reader while she’s unconscious then reader wakes up and tries to fight it but eventually gives in), Fingering, Dumbification(-ish???)

Wc: 1,713

A/n: Please listen to Preachers Daughter by Ethel Cain to get the whole ideal feeling of this fic. As a woman who grew up in the south and the church, this album hits really well. Also inspired by the song ‘The Devil Wears a Suit and Tie’ By Colter Wall!

——————————⧗ᗢ——————————

It started off with your father finding out from the woman you trusted most, Carol Danvers. How could she rat you out like that to your father like that? She was your best friend, the only person who knew about your secret.

No one close to you expected you to be a lesbian, even if they called you a fag or said the way you dressed was weird, the way you acted.

He had come home in a fit rage, busting the front door down. You were sure it came off the hinges. Before you knew it, you were backed into the corner, body aching from the blows you had taken, your throat hoarse from the shouting.

You finally found the courage to run and lock yourself in your room, quickly packing a backpack. Throwing in some clothes, shoes, items dear to you, essentials, and a book.

You unfastened the window, punching through the window screen. You hiked your leg out the window and dropped down. To your dismay, your father saw you.

He bolted out the door, and you quickly jumped onto your bike. pedaling as hard as you could, trying to escape the man you feared more than God.

Your dad hadn’t always been like this, he was always more understanding. When your mother died though, he changed. He began to drink and become terribly abusive. His narcissistic behavior only worsened when he ‘strengthened his faith.’

Your breathing became uneven and ragged, exhaustion consuming your overwhelmed body. You finally gave out running off the side of the road, you slid down a hill, bumping into every rock possibly.

Once you were able to stand, blood dripped down your legs and arms. Small amounts also trickled down your face, along with sweat. Dirt and grime coated your body thickly.

You took off to a bridge you saw, climbing up under it, hoping to hide there for a few hours. You heard the loud thuds of your father's footsteps, your heart pounding with each step. He discovered your slightly mangled bike against a tree, and once he realized you were gone, he cried. You’d not heard him cry since your mother's funeral, it almost made you come out of hiding. You knew his sorrow wouldn’t last, the moment it dispersed he’d be the same man as always.

Your father had finally given up his search for you, not like he cared much anyway. His daughter was ‘one of them queers’ as he’d say. He couldn’t stand people like that, but you were his daughter. He needed to find you, he needed to help you. He knew a woman, Natasha Romanoff.

Natasha was the pastor of the local church. She hadn’t been preaching there for a while, but in her short time she’s ‘helped’ so many young men and women. Now of course her time was spent more catered towards teenagers, but she would be more than willing to help you.

Once night settled in, darkness clouded your eyes. You knew your father wouldn’t get anyone out to look for you, so you figured you’d move at night. You had to get away, and fast.

You stepped onto the main road, your small flashlight in hand that barely worked. The thick mid-June air made sweat slick your body as you walked along the gravel road. No one to your knowledge loved this way, or so you thought.

You followed the small road for what felt like an eternity, your thin tank top clung thickly to your skin. Your overheated weary body fell to the ground, you slumped over laying on your side. Salty hot tears spilled down your face. Thoughts of hatred filled your mind.

How could you disappoint your father like this? How could you betray god like this? a you felt disgusted, so disgusted that as your tears ran you began to heave. Thick bile spilled from your mouth.

If only you could just stop it all, end all your suffering right now. You wouldn’t even hesitate.

You had laid in the spot for what felt like hours, wishing some animal would find you. What found you was even worse.

The sound of a car engine, and squeaky breaks stirred you. Bright headlights blinded you. You wanted to run, you figured now someone had found you and would return you to your father.

The soft crunches of gravel echoed in your ears; a figure approached you. They leaned down and you got a good look at her face. Natasha Romanoff.

“Hey sweetheart, what in the world are you doing out here? What’s happened to ya? Oh my goodness, you’re all bloody laying in a mess of vomit. Let me get you to my house” As she tried to help you to her car you kicked and squirmed.

Loud cries of no came from you, and Natasha was beginning to become impatient. As you thrashed your body around, trying to escape the woman who would bring you to your doom, you speared blood on her spotless suit. She finally had it with you, her fist struck a heavy blow across your face. Your mind went foggy and your eyes dizzy, eventually you lost consciousness.

“If you would’ve just cooperated, I wouldn’t have had to do that.” Natasha said through gritted teeth. She picked up your limp body and carried you to her truck, softly placing you in the seats next to her.

She drove down the road until she reached another small road, turning down it. No one knew about her second life, her home hidden away in the woods. She wasn’t who everyone thought she was. In fact, she was what everyone deemed evil.

She pulled up next to a small trailer house and stepped out of her truck. Natasha stepped around to the other side, pulled you into her arms carrying you bridle style into the house. She brought you to a broken-down couch that reeked of cigarettes.

Natasha walked off to her small room to change out of her dirty, bloodied clothes. She trudged to small refrigerator to grab a beer, cracking it open and taking a big drink.

As she made her way to the couch where you were, an idea popped in her head. She peeled your tank top off your body, revealing your bra. She examined your chest and stomach, dried blood and dirt smeared on your delicate skin.

Natasha unclipped your bra, slipping it off your arms throwing it off. Her hands grope at the soft flesh of your chest. She kneels down, so she can get closer to your breast. Her mouth latches onto your nipple, licking and sucking.

You began to finally regain consciousness, once you realized what was happening your eyes shot open. “No stop! Get off of me!” You shouted, trying to wrestle the older woman off you. She grabbed your wrist in her hand, pinned them onto the arm rest of the couch.

“No baby, you need me. See.” She slipped her hand into your shirt, gathering your slick on her fingers. She removed them and showed you her fingers wet with your arousal, “See baby, now be a good girl and let me fuck you.”

Her hands unbuttoned your shorts and slipped back into your panties. Her rough fingers rubbed at your clit, then she slipped two into your dripping cunt.

A loud cry and moan left your mouth, tears spilled from your eyes. “See baby, it feels so good doesn’t it. Tell me it feels good.” She rasped as she pumped her fingers in and out of you. You weakly nod your head, but Natasha wasn’t satisfied. “No, I want words. I want to hear you say it feels good.”

“Fuck! I-it feels good Natasha.” She chuckled, “Such a dirty mouth.” She curled her fingers up into the right spot, your legs trembled and your back arched up into her. “Fuck ‘m goin’ to cum!” You moaned out, as your juices gushed onto Natasha’s fingers.

She slipped her fingers into her mouth, sucking off your slick and moaning around her digits at your taste. “Fuck baby, you taste so good. I wanna taste you from the source, but we can do that another time. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You nodded and she helped you stand. You laid your head on her shoulder as she walked you to the bathroom. She readied the water as you slipped yourself out of your shorts. You couldn’t believe you were giving into her; she was so tempting you couldn’t even fathom saying no to her. Like a presence luring you in, like the devil themself.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about pretty girl?” She asked you. “Nothin’.. thank you thought. For this, it’s real kind of you.” She smiled, “Oh it’s nothin’ darlin’, it’s my job.”

You slipped into the warm water, and Natasha began to scrub the dirt off you. She’d give you the occasional kiss on your face, she just couldn’t help it. She’d had her eye on you for a while, she got pretty lucky tonight.

“I’ll keep you safe, don’t worry.” She spoke up, “What?” You questioned her, how would she know? “Your father already spoke to me, but don’t worry. Stay here with me, let me take care of you. I won’t say a word to him.” You nodded, “Okay, promise?” She grinned, “I promise.” She placed as soft kiss of your head, then pulled the plug.

Natasha wrapped the towel around your body and took you to her room. “Here why don’t you put these on, and I’ll grab you a sandwich. Is peanut butter okay?” You smiled and nodded.

Once you had put the clothes on she gave you, Natasha had returned with a bottle of water and the sandwich. “Eat this then we can go to bed, I bet you’re exhausted.” She said as she got into bed, motioning for you to join her. “I am.”

You finished eating, and snuggled up with Nat. She hummed you to sleep, whispering sweet nothings to you. She placed a kiss on your scalp and spoke soft words, “I won’t let anything hurt you.”

You felt safe with Natasha, you still weren’t sure what changed in you. You knew you could finally be comfortable with your life though.

Masterlist

[alluraaaa]

i do very much like the idea of baby butch lesbian pidge. or futch or however we wanna diagnose what she’s got going on in canon. but i’ve always seen her having a love/hate relationship with her femininity

when she first came out as trans she was veeery little and flocked to femininity like coming home. it was so easy to put on dresses and grow out her hair and play with girl toys. she wanted to!! and katie rolls off the tongue much easier than any other name, but her annoying brother still calls her that old nickname sometimes :/

(but it’s fine. it was pidge from pigeon. it was her first word. for some reason.)

and when she decides to sneak into the garrison detransitioning for the time being made sense. they’re looking out for a girl. with long hair. it’s the best plan she’s got. it’s for her family she can do it. she can do it she can just pick up the scissors… and…

pidge keeps his head down. doesn’t talk much, even to the two (other) guys he’s grouped with. doesn’t talk to them even as they all get launched into space with two more men. just five boys in a giant lion. guys night, right?

but soon enough it gets clear this isn’t temporary. this is real. they’re in this together. they have to mind meld and get along and be on the same wavelength twenty four fucking seven. pidge has to come clean.

so she does. she’s a girl. the name has grown on her but she’s a girl she’s she.

and the team accepts it. loves her regardless. hell, even saw through her botched haircut.

so… yay. she’s a girl and they know. but would they be okay with her being… girly? she’s missed the dresses and the hair and pretty flowers. yeah allura is all those things and they all like her just fine but would it be weird if pidge just suddenly gets girly? she likes the masc look too but damn she misses heels sometimes. she hates having to deal with her shortness

one day allura weasels all of this out of her and allura doesn’t take no for an answer. so pidge is dolled up in one of allura’s best dresses, face beat to the gods, hair done in the girliest style they can manage with her… whole situation. and she’s beaming at her reflection

then allura drags her to dinner, hiking up the skirt so she doesn’t trip over herself as she gets into her seat. pidge toughens up and waits for the laughs to hit her. for someone to assume pidge got roped into this and secretly hates it. the “uhh… who are you and what have you done with pidge?”

but none of that happens. shiro says she looks nice. keith likes the hair. hunk likes the dress. lance demands to get dolled up next.

if anyone notices pidge’s immovable smile for the rest of dinner, they don’t comment on it. and they don’t bat an eye when skirts and dresses make their way into the rotation of pidge’s outfits right alongside her pants and overalls