#whoknows?

[snoopyies]

Like so many other people, Beyond Repair by @manofthepipis has been stuck in my brain for the last couple of weeks. THEREFORE I’d like to share my contribution to this amazing fic!

[elliereject]

angel .1

* ellie meets you at a party and is immediately enamoured, events pursue which cause her to fall for you even more because you’re just so sweet and nice and perfect for her in every way! practically an angel, except..you’re not.

* absolutely whipped loser!ellie, soft dom!femme reader, meanish!reader, thighriding, oral!e receiving, uhhh pretty sure that’s it lmk if I missed anything.

* shits been in my drafts for a month, there’s gonna be a second part I just dk..how I want to continue this (should’ve made it a oneshot but we’re in too deep now), this was based on beabadoobees Angel so don’t be surprised if it gets a little angsty..also guys plz stop unfollowing me _:(´ཀ`」 ∠): I’m inconsistent but I follow thru! more coming soon ty for the love <3 PLS PLS for the ppl who want to be on my perm taglist LMK!!

* mdni

* wc ~ 2k

★ white angels come, intoxicate my blood.

Pure, innocent, kind, delicate, beautiful.

Those were the words that spun through Ellie’s mind when she first laid her jade-green eyes on you.

An angel.

It didn’t help that the blue glare of the LEDs that illuminated the crowded living room highlighted you so divinely it looked like you were glowing.

You sat next to some stupid guy, letting out soft giggles as he showed you stupid niche memes from some stupid ass game.

She was infuriated, at him, but also, a tad bit, you. How could you sit there and laugh so beautifully when she was but a few feet away from you? She knew she could make you laugh so hard the cherry-flavoured seltzer you’d been nursing would shoot out of your nose, she could be way better than him.

She needed to get close to you, to get to know you, to have you.

Determined, she rolled up the sleeves of her signature dark red flannel so her forearms were on display, (the tattoo always had girls swooning) tucked that one defiant piece of hair behind her ear, and snubbed out the roach she’d been smoking onto the ashtray next to her before hoisting herself up off the couch to walk over to you.

When you saw her approaching you, you greeted her with such a sweet smile she could practically feel her teeth start to rot.

She shot the poor guy a piercing glare that said get the fuck outta here before I make you. and he scrambled away so fast you didn’t even get to say bye.

But god was talking to you even better than she had imagined.

You told her your name after she asked and complimented her tattoo when she complimented your smile. You traced your manicured nails over the dark ink and when that damn strand of hair fell from her ear again you tucked it back without a second thought. If she wasn’t completely whipped before, she was now.

After talking for what felt like an eternity (2 hours and 17 minutes), the music that had previously been semi-quietly floating through space was abruptly turned up and she had to strain her ears immensely to hear your soft voice, so you fidgeted with the gold necklace draped around your neck and averted your gaze when you asked her if she wanted to take the conversation somewhere more quiet, more private.

She immediately agreed, trailing behind you like a moth to a flame as you gracefully made your way up the frat house’s stairs toward an empty bedroom and she tried desperately not to watch the way your hips swayed and ass moved in that flowy pale blue dress you had on, but she was no better than a man.

She closed the door behind the two of you and felt her heart constrict when she turned to see you sitting on the bed, patting the spot next to you, signalling her to join you.

She sat down and tried to discreetly wipe her sweaty palms on her jeans. She was nervous, and she never got nervous. She was Ellie Williams for Christ’s sake, girls practically dropped their panties whenever she flashed them that suave smile and her gorgeous green eyes, she was a stonecold playgirl.

But this time it was her turn to drop her panties—uhh, boxers. She had just met you and you were already turning her into mush, hell, she was ready to bark if you asked her to.

this can’t be healthy, she thought.

Regardless, her breath quickened as your hand interlocked with hers and your face inched closer and closer, your glossed lips fanned over her slightly chapped ones as your other hand lifted to her cheek, tracing over the array of freckles that dotted her face.

Her eyes locked with yours as you whispered loud enough for her to hear, “Can I kiss you?”

She doesn’t think she’s ever acted so fast in her life, her lips immediately fell into yours as your eyes fluttered closed. Surprisingly, she found herself opening her mouth to let you in, your tongue dancing with hers, swirling around her mouth like you were fucking born to kiss her. If it wasn’t for your hand holding hers, she’s pretty sure she would’ve started floating upwards.

You tasted just as she thought you would, like cherries and candy floss and heaven and light and happiness and—

You pulled away and distress immediately flashed over her features,

did her breath stink?

was she, not a good kisser?

were her lips too chapped?

You giggled softly at her demeanour and she felt her confidence deflate like a balloon.

“Sorry I–“ she started but you cut her off, your lips meeting hers again.

“Didn’t mean to laugh, just thought you looked cute,” you said after pulling back.

Heat crept up her freckled face and she cleared her throat, you thought she was cute? Pretty? Alright. Handsome? Cool. But cute? She’d never heard that term be positively used with her before, usually, it was used by asshole guys who decided to undermine her and be misogynistic before getting their lights punched out. She wasn’t even sure how to react, what the hell were you doing to her?

She rubbed the back of her neck, muttering a small thanks as her eyes wandered around the room. She was staring at the lava lamp on the right bedside table when she heard you messing with the sleeves of your dress.

You tilted your head and with the sweetest voice she’s ever heard asked, “Are you going to help me take this off so we can fuck, or do I have to do it myself?”

She could practically hear the ‘woosh’ of slick gushing out of her and dampening the in-between of her underwear, you were seriously going to kill her.

She shook her head, “Sorry, I didn’t think–“

“That’s alright,” you reassured her, “now help me unzip this.”

You turned around so your back was facing her and pulled your hair to one side. She cautiously lifted her hands toward the zipper of your dress and pulled it down, revealing the beautiful lace of the white bra you had on.

She let her hands rest on the bare skin below your neck for just a beat before sliding them back down to push your dress down to your hips. You lifted yourself briefly to tug it the rest of the way down before placing it gently on the floor.

You turned back around to see her already staring at you, she admired the tiny pink bow that sat in the middle of your bra and the way it hugged your chest so fucking beautifully, as well as how if she angled her head right she could see your nipples poking through the light material.

You giggled that amazing soft giggle again and noticed the dusting of pink that grew on her cheeks. Honestly, she could’ve stared at you for the rest of her days but she realized she should probably strip too.

Her hands made quick work to unbutton her flannel and rip off the white tee she had under. You aided her in pulling off her jeans after she unzipped them and felt wetness pool in both your mouth and your panties when you noticed the huge dark grey spot on her boxers.

You moved closer to her, pulling her in for another kiss and unlike the others, it was heated and hungry. Your tongue expertly slid over hers and the little bite you gave to her bottom lip when pulling back had left her breathless. She grabbed the sides of your hips and lifted you onto her lap so you were straddling her and moved to leave strawberry kisses along the sides of your throat.

You placed your hands on her shoulders to provide stability as you slowly started grinding on her thigh, the course material of your panties along with her thigh providing immense amounts of pleasure.

The feeling of your soaked heat against her thigh had her head reeling and her clit aching. And the sounds you made when she started to bounce her leg almost sent her into cardiac arrest. She committed every whimper, moan, and mewl to memory.

You rolled your hips against her faster as she moved one of her hands from your hip to the plush of your boob, lifting the lacey material to circle your nipple with her thumb before popping it into her mouth.

“Fuck–Ellie.” You moaned out, arching into her touch. When your movement began stuttering she knew you were close and gripped your hip to help you move against her as her tongue ran over and circled your nipple.

“‘I’m close, so cl–“ Your mouth fell open in a silent scream when your orgasm rushed over you, drenching your panties and Ellie’s leg.

“So pretty..” she mumbled, relishing in the sight of your post-orgasmic face. She wanted to see it again, and again, and again.

She helped you off of her and onto the floor so you could settle between her legs. You rushed to pull off her boxers so you could get to work on her cunt.

Now, Ellie Williams is pretty famous around campus for giving astronomically good head. Some would even say the best, but she was ready to toss the title out the window without another thought the second your tongue started working its magic on her.

She wasn’t known to be very vocal in bed, but the way you dove into her had her going insane. She shoved a ringed hand into your hair and slapped the other over her mouth to muffle the grotesque sounds she was making.

Your lips expertly sucked on her clit and your tongue made her moan out a small “fuck” when it slid into her slit. She was so close, of all the girls she’s been with she doesn’t think she’s ever gotten so close to cumming so fast.

The hand that was in your hair tugged you closer into her as she practically rode your face to chase her high.

“‘s close. please, angel right there.” Her mind was so muddled with thoughts of her approaching orgasm that she didn’t even process what was spilling from her lips.

You moaned at her use of a nickname and the vibration it sent throughout her body was enough to send her over the edge, stickiness flooding into your mouth and over your tongue, as you continued to slurp her up before she started pushing you away gently from the overstimulation.

You leaned back, the same sweet smile adorning your features, the only difference being her cum dripping from your face.

Shit she thought, still catching her breath, how could someone so sweet looking give such great head?

She was still basking in her post-orgasmic bliss when she heard more shuffling, she tilted her head up to see you putting on that sweet little dress of yours.

She shot you a puzzled look, that’s it?

You shot her the same look, “Is something wrong?”

“Where are you–what are you doing?”

“Putting on my clothes, silly,” you said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I see that, but why?”

Confusion still framed your face before it switched into one of understanding then…pity?

“Don’t tell me you thought…” you giggled again, only this time instead of filling Ellie’s head with images of marshmallows and bunnies, it was bright red blaring alarms.

“I thought we were like I don’t fucking know vibing, and then we’d exchange numbers or some shit.” she said.

To which you laughed, “No no, you were cool but I don’t become friends with the people I fuck at parties.”

What?

“What?” She exclaimed, sitting up fully so she could pull on her boxers.

you tilted your head, “You didn’t think that this would be more than just a quick fuck, did you?”

She didn’t know what to say, because she did think that. The two of you talked for hours and you laughed at all her jokes and she was 90% set on calling Jesse to drive over and deliver his great-grandmother's ring so she could propose and you tucked her fucking hair behind her ear…

“I kinda did yeah, 'cause you made it seem like it would be.”

You paused before that same fucking sweet smile crept up on your face, it was really starting to piss her off now. “I’m so sorry you thought that.”

“What the fuck?” She scoffed.

You shrugged, walking over to the vanity to touch up the makeup that had been smudged like you weren’t just eating pussy like your life depended on it.

She just watched as you fluttered around the room, collecting your belongings. She was at a loss for words, what else could she say to you to make you stay? Talk to her longer? Kiss her so she could taste herself on your tongue?

Nothing. she figured as you waved her goodbye before slipping out of the room as well as her life.

angel my fucking ass.

[mybrainonfiction]

Got to the 1st Callisto Ep. Not a fan of her and her storyline. Wondering if she will grow on me later. Not really a fan of watching the whole, 'life has done me wrong, so now I must destroy, kill and hurt every single being in my path, no matter what, no matter the time or place, I must kill them all!' type of villain. I'm basing this off of 1st impressions of course

What is the general consensus about her? Do yall love her, hate her, love to hate her Or hate to love her?

P.S my sister loves her

[brightdrawings]

A Secret Picnic Agenda

Wirt had an entire day’s worth of a scavenger hunt planned out for Dipper. However he underestimated his fiance. hopefully an impromptu picnic can help him accomplish his secret goal.

also on ao3!

“Okay, let me get this straight-” Dipper put his hands on his hips

 “As straight as you can at least,” Wirt interrupted.

 “You set me up with a scavenger hunt all day, only to tell me the final piece is something I have to wait for?” Dipper pouted.

 “In my defence, I thought you would take longer.” Wirt packed some food into a cooler.

 “That was your first mistake,” Dipper smiled smugly. “Never underestimate a Pines.”

“I learned that one the hard way.” Wirt carried the cooler out of the kitchen.

 “I don’t anyone could have anticipated the chaos that Mabel’s fairy elephant glitter toothpaste could have wrought.” Dipper followed Wirt out of their apartment to their car.

 “Every time I close my eyes, all I see is a wave of glitter swamping me.” Wirt forced a horrified tone to his voice.

 “Oh my God you’re so dramatic.” Dipper rolled his eyes. He took a seat in the passenger seat of the car. “Where are we going anyway?” 

 “What fun is there in me telling you the finale to your scavenger hunt?” Wirt teased.

 “The last clue lead me to the kitchen.” 

 “Only because I was there at the time.” Wirt pouted. “I was supposed to be at the park by now. But someone decided to have a surprise marshmallow raid and ended up swiping away most of the biscuits in the process. You were supposed to find this on the counter” Wirt pulled out a folded sheet of paper from his pocket. “You’re good with words. Let’s see you figure this trick out.” 

 Dipper unfolded the sheet of paper and was met with a hand drawn crossword puzzle. 

 “Oh ho? A challenge from a poet? This should be fun.” Dipper teased.

 “I can’t wait to hear you begging for clues.” Wirt stuck out his tongue.

 “I’ll have this done in less than five minutes.” Dipper was already chewing his pen.

 “Careful, don't want to spoil your appetite with ink.”

 “First of all, rude, second of all your hints are too obvious. ‘A place to frolic and play? With grassy hills and climbing trees, a place to waste a day?’ are you even trying or did you get lost in the prose?”

 “You’re not going to get me to say the answers this time.” Wirt focused on the road. Dipper was doing his puppy eye stare. The last thing he needed was to get distracted from driving. That was definitely the reason he didn’t hold any grudge against his fiancé for tricking him into spoiling another scavenger hunt. Definitely not that.

 “Aw poo. Someone’s sad that I outsmarted them.” 

 The pair bantered back and forth for a while. Dipper continued to nudge Wirt to try and get some answers for the crossword that he already had finished. He just wanted to hold the fact he weaseled some answers over his fiancé. Wirt was more than happy to oblige, as it kept Dipper distracted from their destination, the park. Not distracted for long, just for enough time that he wouldn’t suspect what Wirt was planning.

 “A park huh?” Dipper hopped out of the car, his completed crossword stuffed into his pocket.

 “Not many other places accommodate a picnic you know.” Wirt threw the picnic blanket at Dipper. 

 “A beach works too.” Dipper pulled the blanket off his face.

 “Not for what I have planned.” Wirt took out the cooler, locking the car with his other hand.

 “Or maybe you’re trying to grasp on to what remains of winter as the seasons inevitably change.” Dipper helped Wirt carry the cooler.

 “You have no proof of that.” Wirt said quickly.

 “You have a closet full of sweaters that you spend at least half an hour picking through before every outing.” Dipper shot back. “You want to try me? I have proof for days.”

 “You can’t say that! You’re my fiancé. You're meant to support me in my attempts to rewind the clock so that I can stay fashionable all year round.” Wirt lead them up a small hill where a proud cedar stood.

 “That was your first mistake,” Dipper grinned villainously. “Your second mistake was to think an experienced time traveler would help you try to reverse time.”

 “You still haven’t told me that story.” Wirt pouted. “What if I gave you an offer?” 

 “I won’t budge, but I’ll listen.” Dipper smirked. He spread the blanket under the branches of the tree.

 “If winter continues, we can have hot coco every night and cuddle while watching bad movies late into the night.” Wirt placed down the cooler before laying back on to the blanket.

 “I don’t see how we can’t have cool drinks while watching better movies?” Dipper opened the cooler, taking out a couple of sandwiches. 

 “Because I would sooner die than admit to fruit juice having a better taste than hot coco.” Wirt pouted.

 “You’ll change your tune when summer rolls around, the glaring heat from the sun beating down upon us as we sweat a pools worth of water upon leaving the house.” Dipper laid next to Wirt, handing him a sandwich. 

 “Thanks,” Wirt took the sandwich. “Glad to hear my poetry is finally rubbing off on you.” 

 “I just thought that you’d enjoy someone with worse poetry make you appreciate how far you’ve come.” Dipper nudged Wirt with his elbow.

 The pair sat up, enjoying the sun that shone through the branches. They bantered and joked, relayed how they had spent their week at work and their plans for the upcoming season. Wirt with his new teaching semester, Dipper with his Cryptid hunting show and the potential of hiring a new editor to help lessen his workload. They went through packets of biscuits and bottles of juice. Something that Dipper felt no shame in teasing Wirt over every time his fiancé reached to pour himself another cup.

 Soon Dipper felt himself grow restless and went to the tree’s trunk to let out some energy.

 “What are you 12?” Wirt teased from his seat on the ground.

 “There’s no age restriction on tree climbing.” Dipper stuck out his tongue from a branch above Wirt. He sat comfortably on the thick wood. It easily supported his weight as he wriggled around to find himself a comfortable position.

 “I guess I shouldn’t be saying things like that.” Wirt mused. “Wendy would probably have my head.”

 “She doesn’t need any more guy heads.” Dipper waved his hand. “She would whack you with a log though.”

 “I thought she didn’t like lumberjack stereotypes?” Wirt asked.

 “I spent 3 summers with her dad,” Dipper shot back. “I am an honorary lumberjack so I’m allowed.”

 “Sure” Wirt rolled his eyes. He got up and walked over to a sizeable knot in the trunk of the cedar. It was hollow, not big enough to lead to some magical escapades or other worlds like holes in trees did stories. But Wirt knew that if you wanted something to be magical, you needed to make it yourself. Unless you asked Dipper, then the answer was ‘pixie dust’. Wirt shook his head and carefully reached into the tree trunk.

 “Hey Dipper, I want to show you something.” Wirt called.

 “What’s up?” Dipper swung upside down from his perch so that he was right next to Wirt.

 “Ah!” Wirt jumped back, almost dropping his ‘surprise’ in the process. “What the heck was that?”

 “A Mabel move,” Dipper smiled smugly.

 “Of course,” Wirt rolled his eyes. “Well get down I don't want you throwing up what you just ate.”

 “Fine fine.” Dipper jumped down, landing much less gracefully than he thought he did. “Now what’s this Earth shattering surprise that you needed to show me?”

 “Well first, I have to confess something.” Wirt looked solemnly at his fiancé. “I had a secret agenda this whole time.”

 “Wha-”

 “This scavenger hunt was a distraction.” Wirt said. “It was all so that I could lull you into a false sense of security before swooping in for the kill like a hungry falcon eyeing up the most delicious prey.”

 “Good thing Waddles isn’t around.” Dipper muttered.

 “In all seriousness.” Wirt knelt before Dipper, opening his hand and revealing a small black box that held a pair of silver rings within. 

 “Oh my Gosh” Dipper breathed.

 “Will you marry me?” Wirt asked.

 “Yes, yes a thousand times yes.” Dipper picked Wirt up in a tight hug.

 “I’m glad to hear” Wirt choked out.

 “Sorry, I'm just really excited.” Dipper apologized.

 “You’d better be,” Wirt leaned forward and gave him a kiss. “I spent a month planning this thing.”

 “Oh my God a month?” Dipper’s jaw fell. “No wonder you ask for my help with your class activities.” 

 “No need to be rude.” Wirt pouted.

 “No, I’m just saying you need my help for plotting things out.” Dipper said.

 “And you need my help for keeping things poetic” Wirt smirked.

 “A better duo has yet to exist in the history of man.” Dipper smirked.

 Wirt pulled him into another kiss as they both fell onto the picnic blanket in the late afternoon sun.

[popcouples]

Or start a rain storm...who knows?

[51areas]

51 Areas LIVE ! - Hollywood ='s Vampires

All things you, them and they~

[calidrisminuta]

Feeling kind of low

Life’s kind of rough at the moment... So much is going on, and not much of it good. I’ve even put my Twitter into private mode just so I have a place to grumble and complain.

I’m hoping to still post garden and flower pics, but I’m not really in the mood. Rather, I’ll be reblogging and liking fanart and various things here. Really need something uplifting. Anything to put a smile on my face.

Now, if anyone wants me, I’ll be looking through the various FFXV tags and then heading over to AO3 in the hopes of some newly updated favourite fics.

[lost-in-transition]

infosecks

So I was born in 1980. My Scandinavian public school system probably had “progressive“ sex-ed, we had those classes maybe age 13-15. It covered contraceptives, pregnancy, and some stuff about consent without using that word, basically “it’s OK to wait until you want to“ but the assumption was implicitly that in a few years a lot of us would be having straight sex with each other. I felt that was shallow and stupid and determined to wait until university or marriage or whatever. Some anatomy, some menstruation, some baby development and nurturing. Not much of communication or relationship, but stuff on planning economy together. Lots of STD protection details. Token mention of there being gay people and that is OK, one visited school at some point to talk (he was an HIV positive gay man I think). I remember nothing about trans and nothing else more complicated.

Other sources was a magazine for teenagers of all sexes, which was basically similar in scope, what little I sneaked from my sisters’ girl magazines, and what books my parents had around from their psychologist schooling in the 70s. Pre-google internet on a shared computer, webrings etc. Nothing there.

So I really did not have an idea of anything trans related until... sometime? Apocryphic references here and there. Some TV mention of transvestite prostitutes having gotten breasts from unethical plastic surgeons, that was what I remembered. The idea of “traps”, probably. I got into second- and third wave feminism (because I identified with women as a group) and learned about gender roles as socially constructed and of the patriarchy. That was it until at university, in my much queerer circles, I encountered queerness and genderqueerness and like one or two actual trans people a few steps away from me. I was curious and scared, because the idea of gender identity was anathema to my life raft of all aspect of gender as socially constructed and about to be dismantled by the queer revolution.

Even then, I had no idea about hormonal transition. I thought as a trans woman, you had your genitals cut off so you’d stay with a sore and raw muscle surface and never feel arousal again, that you had breast implants and otherwise used heavy makeup and stereotyped clothing to try to pass. It seemed to be about being allowed to be a stereotype socially at a high cost physically.

I wonder how it would have been if I grew up now? What information could I have gotten as a teenager? Crucially:

- Yes, gender roles are constructed and harmful to all. But not all of gender is socially constructed, no matter what you hope. Some follows from body one way or another. I don’t think I could have accepted that. I would have struggled until overproven, and at that point, I would have sought transition. Which is essentially what now happened in my thirties instead.

- No, gender and sexual orientation are not linked. Also it really is OK to like anyone. When I told my mother boys in school said I was gay, she told me they feared their own sexuality and that I showed no sign of being gay. Having another form of acceptance more widely might have changed how I relate to that part.

- There really are people feeling much better anchored if they transition, either suffering if they do not, or gaining better happiness if they successfully do. Transition works, involves triggering another puberty track, and changes your body and mind; this prepares you for later surgeries if you want them. You won’t have more problems as a trans person than you already do for being a complete and utter outsider. The last may or may not have been true then in the small town, but true enough. I have no idea if I would have wanted to transition as a teenager. I was alienated but it was so hard to separate bullying, outsidership and other factors from each other. I don’t know if my dysphoria was that strong then.

There does exist a possible scenario wherein during my teens I would have wanted to transition based on euphoria. That is, I would have linked transition to agency and to coming out of my social shell. The close friends I made were largely girls and there was a homosocial component (though also with nerd boys, granted). If I had believed - through support from the world - that I could become a girl then, then I would have experienced potential social gender euphoria, and if I thought I could be accepted by at least the parts of society I care about - my parents, my outsider friends, counterculture, academia - then I probably would have wanted to transition. Most likely first via nonbinarity, and then girlhood as I felt I could. So again, honestly mirroring what I did in my thirties.

Writing this was an experiment to check, would I have wanted to transition if I grew up with the information available? I still cannot be sure, but from typing down the thought experiment, then it seems like I would have done surprisingly much the same thing as I ended up doing now. Where I was then the reluctantly male soft person nerd poet hacker progressive, I would be the same but embracing my girlhood with much sturm und drang. I probably would be about the same degree of weird that I ended up being, but my body would have been cis-passing. Oh, well...