Ya know what shout out to butches who wrestle with our butchness because we don’t fit the mold in some way. Butches who aren’t physically strong or naturally caretaking because of physical disability, who need to be cared for, who can’t hold open the door for a femme. Butches with long hair, butches with big hair, butches who express their culture via their hair. Butches who’s masculinity is shaped by their culture, who’s masculinity doesn’t fit the white eurocentric mold. Fat butches, butches with curves viewed as feminine, butches who don’t have skinny, boyish builds. Butches who don’t want to be sexualized, butches on the ace spectrum. Butches who don’t have traditionally masculine interests or mannerisms or whatever. Effeminate butches. Butches who take inspo from gay men. Butches who like the occasional dress or skirt. TRANSFEM BUTCHES!!!!! And any other butches who don’t fit a certain mold!! All butches are good butches and we are all valid.
REQUIRED READING for any noisecouple enjoyers: @manicplank 's "the colour pink" fic ITS SOOOO GOOD and i just had to do a little animation of their date.... so so so so cute i love them forever
gif version under the cut:
idk why it loses so much quality . kind of annoying but oh well
a bunch of assorted episode 7 stuff from the last couple of days! because they're still taking over my entire brain! (I keep forgetting that the diasomnia uniform has that weird spike...chain...thing on the back. do you think when they get bored they, like, throw balloons at each other and whoever pops one first wins? is this what the dialounge is like in the off-hours?)
hey when do we get to see maskless red Lilia. please Twst I'm dying over here
Being loomed over. Receiving little flirty comments from someone a hundred times your size. Your difference in size and power is nearly indescribable - you can barely comprehend how large they must be even as you look at them. Their voice comes out as a low rumble, their body moving slower than normal due to the dilation of time caused by their size (or, perhaps, your size), and as their hand reaches down towards you impossibly slowly, you still cant escape it, in all of its vastness. A finger taller than you are poking you in the stomach and causing you to nearly topple over. The larger is on another plane of existence, in a way. But as they look down at you with such infatuation, regardless of your survival instinct telling you to run, your pounding heart, and your trembling form, you feel oddly safe. Its nice to be doted on a little. To be observed by eyes larger than your torso. To be treated gently by something that could crush you like a bug. To be loved by something beyond comprehension. Erm. Yeah.
I have absolutely zero business imagining Yule Ball designs since I’m not even remotely close to writing that chapter (which I would like to but we’re not even two chapters in) but also I have zero self control so here have them anyways.