[ID: tweet from andreak/@andreakvng: So one of my straight friends shared with me that she’s never had an orgasm so I took it upon myself to find her a pretty dyke to get her right…and y'all lmao.
This is followed by screenshots of a text conversation:
Friend: i didn’t know sex could feel so good, does lesbian sex always feel that great? i never liked head bec it didn’t feel like anything i dead ass thought my clit was broken but oh my god when i tell you she sucked my pussy like she was drinking a thick milkshake
Friend: and her strap game was…immaculate. very disrespectful though…she wouldn’t let me tap out i came at least 7 times.
Friend: bitch i’m still cumming on myself…lesbians are so nasty. you’re all nasty whores
Friend: would it be thirsty to ask her to fuck me again tonight? or should i play it cool…im twitching i need it again
Friend: i woke up this morning for work & the first thing i said was “let’s make today a good day” BITCH WHAT!! cus u know i hate my damn job..she got me right
Friend: wait i texted her and all i said was “hey” and she gon say “you need it again already huh?”
..she’s so cocky
Friend: bitch first of all…yes. i do. so i’ll be over at 11…also are you hungry? tf
OP: LMAAAOOOO THATS MY BITCH!!!]
there's a kind of fun thing you can do with a hypnosis play partner over a long enough time period where you can give it triggers associated with all of its go to words and exclamations in response to teasing until eventually you can just say the right word and watch it rube goldsberg machine its way into getting really cutely angry at you and unable to do anything about it except hold whatever embarrassing pose or series of poses you thought were really funny like three weeks ago.
every time i make a post about the suffering of the global south it undergoes some tumblr alchemy and is transformed into a post about the suffering of the americans
inability to correctly perceive 3d objects is in fact far more dangerous when someone is driving a car next to you then when they're like, sending emails to you.
I had to mentally send myself a reaction image the other day. I ran up the stairs on all fours, said to myself “i’m such a locationpilled scampercel” and then perfectly envisioned this image
Wednesday is, mostly through your own fault, pretty shit outside of the time you spend with Lena. between her leaving and her returning, you unintentionally mirror my Sunday, pissing away the day in a borderline dissociative haze helped along by yet more of the moonman shit. you only stop smoking when Lena texts you that she's on her way home.
Thursday is much the same, though you have Lena there to ground you all day this time. the two of you spend the day smoking and watching TV in bed. Sarah even joins you when you get home, snuggling into your other side. they manage to keep you from going too crazy about tomorrow. but you think about Cleo the whole time, blue filling your mind.
and then tomorrow comes. mercifully, you're back to work, framing an addition for an old house across town in Brookline. morning traffic sucks, alleviated by Moss's presence in the passenger seat of your shared work truck. they make easy chatter that keeps a smile on your face for most of the drive. the work is hard, but not difficult, an easy process you've done dozens of times across the city, made faster by another set of hands. you wish you had enough money to get a third set of hands, but that's a bit unrealistic right now.
traffic is even worse on the way back, for some reason, and no matter how many shortcuts you try you can't help but watch as the clock ticks later and later, until it's already past the time you were supposed to be meeting Cleo. Moss mans your phone for you, texting Cleo and Sarah and Lena for you, and your frustration mounts as you keep driving, and it's a half hour past the time you were supposed to meet when you finally arrive home.
you rush inside and straight to the shower, shedding your work clothes into the hamper and stepping under the hot water. you scrub angrily and efficiently to clean off the grime of the day, soapy fingernails scraping away dried sweat and sawdust in equal measure. you're done in less than then minutes.
you can't help but linger in front of the mirror.
punch the mirror, you'll feel better…
you shake your head and move on.
you dry off with the towel as you head to your room to get dressed. cargo shorts, sports bra, tanktop. comfy and easy, perfect for a day in the park.
unfortunately, your frustration continues to build. apparently Moss had failed to alert you that there was a change of plans, and the chill evening is now a full-blown picnic. when Sarah tells you, you have to stop and close your eyes for a moment, irrational anger bubbling up, and you can't help the frustrated "why?"
"because none of us have had lunch-"
"i did!"
"- and Cleo thought it - i know, puppy, but you're probably hungry by now - she thought it would be nice to have something to eat while we're there. Lena volunteered to make the sandwiches, which is why she's on the couch resting now. can you help me pack the drinks and sandwiches up and get them to the car?"
"Sarah, i-" you start to protest, not even sure why you're resisting, just knowing that the change of plans is making your chest tight and you'd like it to stop.
and it stops, after a fashion, when Sarah's fingers thread through your hair and you go a little empty. for a moment your chest no longer feels like it's trying to choke your heart, and all that matters is Sarah. she lets you lean forward, brings her other hand up to loop around your back to bring you in to her chest, and holds you for a moment. "breathe, puppy. we have all the time in the world, okay?"
and of course, Sarah cuts to the root of it so quickly. you whimper a little, letting the shame go as best you can. it takes a minute for you to come back to reality, but when you do you feel a lot less angry. you don't feel like punching something, at the very least.
you stop at the couch to give Lena a kiss, then follow Sarah into the kitchen. you grab the red cooler off the porch without her asking, and together you fill it with ice and drinks, honestly far too many for just the three of you, but Sarah's always prepared. she puts the sandwiches in on top of the ice to keep them cool and fresh. they're not small things, Lena definitely went all out for the picnic. you can at least make out lettuce aplenty on one of them, though there seem to be a few different sandwiches.
your stomach growls. you did have lunch, you weren't lying, but Sarah was still right. you are hungry. that gives you a little more direction, makes this picnic idea a little more worth it. some food made by your sister, warm weather, maybe it'll be okay.
the cooler gets loaded into the trunk of Sarah's car, then Lena climbs into the passenger seat happily, and after a quick dip back into the house to grab your pen you're climbing into the back seat. it's a short five minute trip to Kite Hill Park from your house. the park is basically as it sounds. a little grassy hill in between two fairly unremarkable streets (except to those who live on them). there's a drab basketball court at the top of the hill, but Cleo's already claimed a spot with a fairly massive blanket and even some cushions and pillows. all blue, of course, because everything about Cleo is blue.
then you catch her eye, and the panic starts to seize you, and entirely on instinct you bring your hand up and put the vape in your mouth and take a deep, deep pull from it, and then you keep going, past the point you know is responsible, but it's all you know how to do, is escape and let it hurt, and you go until your lungs start to burn and the world tilts, and you see Cleo waving but it's a little distant as the oxygen deprivation catches up and you finally exhale, and Sarah pushes you forward, and you wait for the hit.
you make it halfway up the hill before it hits you. it's a slow, almost unnoticeable creep at first. you start to walk a little more confidently, a little less trepidatiously, and the ground may be a little uneven but you're undaunted, and as it keeps crashing over you you care less and less, until you reach the blanket and you look up at Cleo with a smile, "hi!"
"oh baby," she giggles, "that was a biiiig hit, put that cooler down and sit, sit! oh my god, hi! Lena, right?"
and you lose track a little bit as you remember that you are in fact carrying the cooler, and oh my god you have to put it down somewhere. it takes you what feels like several minutes to decide, but in reality based on the conversation going on behind you is more like fifteen or twenty seconds. you set the red cooler down as gently as you can while your head is spinning like this, and you sit down with a relieved whumph sound, and the world stops spinning so hard.
it lets up enough for you to hear more of the conversation, "-so so sorry about all of the… everything that happened the other night! seriously, i have no excuse, and i'll understand if you don't forgive me, but i want to at least try to-"
"Cleo, calm down," Lena says, giggling, "let's sit down and talk, get to know each other before we get to apologies. i don't even know you yet."
you busy yourself with the cooler (which you placed right next to your seat) as an assemblage of some of the most important people in the world sit down around you, and you're all fuzzy and warm and hungry, and by the time you manage to get the cooler open Sarah's already kneeling in front of it to grab everything out. you whine somewhat discontentedly, but Sarah leans in a little closer to you and whispers "just relax, puppy. let Cleo and Lena talk, okay? would you like me to sit next to you?"
you nod happily, a little puppy-brained, a little puppy-eyed, hazy at the edges and just happy to have an order to focus on. Sarah's right, like always. you sigh happily as she hands you a tuna sandwich, you're sure made the same way that your mom made them when you were kids. Lena had always been helping her in the kitchen. it makes sense she has some of the recipes. not that tuna sandwich can be too hard, but…
"how long have you been in Pittsburgh?" Lena asks, and Cleo smiles, both at the question and at Sarah handing her her sandwich and a can of cola.
"i've been living in the city basically my whole life, aside from a couple semesters abroad in college. grew up in Banksville, lived way out in Fairywood for a little while, spent a couple years in Squirrel Hill, now i'm here in East Liberty."
"you know the city pretty well, then?"
"ehhh, i know my favorite spots, but i don't go out much where my friends don't take me, y'know?"
"i think so, yeah. i guess i was the same, back home. our family had the few restaurants we went to all the time, but i never really went anywhere else."
"mm, nothing wrong with it, right? if you know what you like, what's the harm in sticking to it?"
"that's a good point. so what's your favorites?"
Cleo leans forward a bit conspiratorially, "it's extremely nerdy."
Lena leans forward, too, as if to share a secret, "have you met my sister?"
"god you're right, has she shown you Phantom of the Attic yet??"
giggling at the name, Lena says "no!"
she's yours. they need to stop talking.
you shake your head again. push the thought away. try to focus on something else. Sarah notices, and pokes your hand holding the sandwich. you still haven't even started it yet. sluggishly, you take a grateful bite. and then another, and another, as if the act of eating activated your hunger, and before you know it the whole sandwich is gone and you start to get sad that there's no more sandwich, but Sarah reaches across you into the cooler and pulls out another tuna sandwich, and you make heart eyes at Lena even though she's talking to Cleo and giggling between bites of her own sandwich, a BLT by the looks of it. the second tuna sandwich doesn't last much longer than the first.
Sarah's begun to lean into you, and distantly you recognize that she's got you leashed, effectively. one hand has wrapped around your back and pressed itself into your side in a vaguely ticklish way, and the other has taken your hand and started to play with it. you wouldn't dare deny her her fun, and so you stay there and let yourself be played with while your sister the saint talks with the scary fluffy bunny.
eventually they move on, and you're distantly aware of the thread of the conversation, talk about locations, references to Wednesday's adventure with me, inquiring about our family, and that's when Lena starts to get a little cagey, saying "our mom and dad are… fairly intolerant. they were always hard on us, in different ways, but it was… different when it was just the three of us, y'know? better. or…" Lena trails off, unsure of the word.
"peaceful?" Cleo supplies.
"peaceful, yeah. well, aside from Penny and Lily fighting, but i mostly usually had that under control."
you want to protest, but recent events have indicated you have no basis for that, so you stay quietly grumpy. Sarah notices and squeezes your side harder, causing you to jump and laugh, a quiet indignant "Sarah!" escaping you.
she giggles into you, "quiet, i'm trying to watch this telenovela," she teases.
you go dutifully quiet, turning to watch along, only to find Cleo and Lena have stopped for a second to look at you, then giggle together.
"okay, so she was just sorta always like that with you?"
Lena laughs, but she flushes bright red and covers her face a bit, "yeah, she was… i just- like- i didn't even have context yet, y'know?? not when we were really young and it was just me trying to calm her down and stuff when my mom couldn't anymore. and by the time i started realizing it was weird, we'd already started to… drift apart a little bit. then i moved back in, and…"
"you drifted back together?" Cleo asks, smiling brightly.
with another laugh and a nod, Lena moves on, "what about you? do you have any siblings?"
Cleo shakes her head, "nah, i'm pretty much on my own. no siblings, and i never really see my parents anymore. but i like it that way! i make my family elsewhere, y'know? i've got a group of friends here in the city that're more like my family than my parents ever were; i spend most of my holidays with them."
"ugh, i know our parents are gonna want us to come home for Thanksgiving and i am so not looking forward to it," Lena grumbles.
you don't say anything. Mom texted you a couple weeks ago, making sure of exactly that. after a lot of guilt tripping, you promised her that you'd spend the whole weekend with them. before, that wasn't too crazy of a thing to ask. you could hide away the parts of yourself they'd be ashamed of for that long, put them neatly away in a box. but now, with me back in the picture… can you and Lena both keep that in the box?
you tear your eyes away from Lena and Cleo, not able to look at your sister right now. Thanksgiving. it's so far away, but right now your anxiety puts a hand on the blade of the fan and pushes, making it all spin faster, until you're whirling about in your mind and you close your eyes and you want to say something to Sarah but you don't, thinking spare them the anxiety, it's better if you hurt instead.
and the thought feels strange and foreign, and you shake your head again until your eyes jostle open and you look around uncertainly. everything's the same, except you. you're the only thing that's changed. you feel… calmer? serene? it doesn't matter, as much, what happens right now. it hurts, god does it hurt, but that's how it should be. so you sit in peace and let it happen. and then Sarah's hand threads through your hair and you sigh deeply, looking over at her. wow, she's beautiful. it doesn't hurt as much, when she touches you. that's nice. you smile, "hi," and then giggle.
"baby?" Sarah asks, a smile on her face despite curious eyebrows.
"i feel funny," you whisper to her, hunching up your shoulders and putting a mischievous look on your face.
Sarah gets a little closer, turning away from her telenovela to pay attention to you. "good funny? bad funny? what's up?"
"i don't know, just weird funny… i was freaking out and now i'm not."
"well that sounds like it might be good funny," Sarah says, bringing you into her arms and kissing you on the head, "what else?"
you open your mouth, but stop, unsure how to quantify it. it's just. a feeling. you almost tell her this, but Lena interrupts before you can, "Pen-Pen? you okay?"
you look up, knowing she's talking to you but feeling at a distance from the nickname. "i think so!" you say brightly. "how are you?"
Lena, caught off guard, giggles, "i'm doing great, baby. you were kind of distracted, we were just talking about you!"
"all good things, don't worry, angel," Cleo says, and angel sounds right. you like angel. you smile at Cleo happily. she turns back to Lena, presumably continuing the conversation, saying "you can't exactly blame me for being obsessed with her, can you?"
with a happy hum, Lena says "no, i can't."
"she makes me stupid," Cleo says it with a grin, but then she gets serious, "it's not an excuse, but… it does mean i need to apologize, genuinely. i was acting really stupid, and just cause i didn't know how it was going to affect you doesn't mean i didn't fuck it up real hard. so i'd like to try to make it up to you and to Penny however you'll let me."
your sister is contemplative for a long moment, and you watch her face the whole time as she thinks and her brow twitches and her lips go thin for a moment before she pouts, and you can almost tell what she's going to say before she says it, "knowing that, i think i can forgive you."
Cleo almost looks confused, like she didn't expect to be forgiven. you knew better. our sister, the saint.
"with that out of the way," Lena announces with a very serious face that you recognize. she's being mischievous, trying to freak out Cleo. even Sarah gets a bit of a frightened look, but you can't help the giggle. luckily it doesn't tip Cleo off, and so she's appropriately wigged out when Lena asks "what are your intentions with my sister?"
Cleo laughs, once, a little startled at the question, and then quietly wonders "what?"
Lena cracks, finally, just a twitch at the corner of her mouth at first before she snorts and giggles and cackles out "i'm so sorry!"
you laugh, too, and Cleo looks aghast for a second before she does a double take between you and your sister and lets out a startled laugh, "you asshole! i thought you were genuinely about to give me the shovel talk!"
once Lena manages to bring her giggles under control she explains, "Penny and i are girlfriends now, since nobody really knows. i just want to know how serious you are about her."
Cleo skirts a look over at your for a moment, weighing her words, her options. you hold your breath, knowing but unsure of what she'll say, and you think it'd be easier if she said she wasn't, but then there's another thought that feels much more like Penny, i want it to be serious.
and Cleo says "as a heart attack."
i love you, you think, but manage to refrain from saying it out loud just yet.
"but that's a discussion for Penny and i to have later," she adds, and you nod happily, once again puppy-brained but no longer anxious, all the scary parts of the day done.
you stay in the park until the sun begins to set, late in the evening. you and Sarah join in the conversation, once Cleo and Lena are caught up and all's forgiven (or on its way there). you spend almost an hour fiercely debating which Star Wars movie is best. at least a half hour on the merits of Stargate, which Sarah hasn't seen. and a frankly egregious amount of time on which snacks are best for playing D&D.
you say goodbye to Cleo, almost wishing for a dramatic sunset to light the hill, but the way the warm evening light filters through the trees around the park is equally as romantic. Lena leads Sarah away from the two of you and back to the car. she sends you a wink, mouthing "go for it."
you flush, appreciative. your head is thankfully clear of the high, now, and you turn to face Cleo fully. "hey, bunny," you murmur with a smile.
she steps in closer, letting that magnetic attraction draw you into her, her hands on you, one on your hip and the other on your arm, and you bring your face up next to hers, softly nuzzling her, "hey, angel."
"so…" you whisper.
"so…" she whispers back. "Lena's your girlfriend now, huh?"
and you can't see her, because you've still got your face hovering next to hers, your eyes half-lidded, but you can hear the smile in ther voice.
"yeah… yeah, she is."
"so… what will i be?"
your voice quivers, "wh… what do you… want to be?"
"i- can we be…" she slows, stops for a moment. your heart goes into freefall in the silence. partners, you hope.
"we could be… partners?"
you grip onto her tighter, happy tears in your eyes, and whisper, "partners."
This is kind of deranged but my T has been lower than even cis woman's normal for a while and I'm looking forward to being post-op so I can possibly get some prescribed, and get myself up to typical cis female levels without worrying about starting a runaway feedback loop for my testes
Like post bottom surgery I'm gonna throw myself back into optimizing my HRT, including possibly adding T, switching esters, and boofing and/or cycling prog. Mostly to self experiment, but I do have a few energetics issues that could be ADHD med dosing related but are probably partly hormonal.
My internship is also ending soon so I can have as much time as I want to recover post op, and while I'm back on the job hunt and more healed I might have a gym girl arc. Being able to wear biker shorts and swimwear without tucking is gonna be a game changer for my workout comfort and confidence.
Anyways as the day marches closer I'm finding my usual coping by dissociation mechanism for ignoring bottom dysphoria is ✨crumbling✨ so the sooner I slam out this data analysis, present my summer work, and get those stupid crotch skin tags OUT of here, the better
