To the Roots of the Cyborg

I’ve recently mined out a huge amount of post ideas after my really prolonged dry spell and I have begun writing them. But alas, I hit a snag where finding the reference materials and pictures was really hard to do due to the sheer quantity of stuff I had to go through to find the exact one I need. However, I did hit upon the idea this post will be about (In the shower, weirdly enough. I normally get these flashes of “genius” just as I’m about to sleep). So for today, as a sort of a filler and a post just to entertain all (For I assure you, you will be entertained), this is a post about ALLLLLLLLL me fetishes.

Oh yeah, you guys and girls f******g read that right. My fetishes and their origins. Time to descend down the dark, unlit passageways of CyborgCommunist’s mind to reach that one room with the huge words “FETISHES” plastered on the door.

Stained Uniforms

This post is going to have more of these darker pictures which I love so much

I actually had planned this story out a long time ago. It was drafted around the same time as By The Light but I never got around to actually writing it as I knew I had to get into this particularly mood to compose it. Which is to say emo but not self-pitying. Which just happened to be today. So now straight from the Forge of CyborgCommunist’s mind, Staind Uniforms, a short angsty Yuri story for 2 High School girls.

Part of the inspiration of the story was also my own thoughts on such issues of sexuality. This was great fun to write and it was hard for me to end it as I wanted to.

I reccomend listening to this as before you read. It’s a beautiful song and it sets the mood rather well in my opinion. I was listening to this as I wrote anyway.

The bitingly chilly autumn wind tussled Erin’s long hair, the tips of them tickling her clenched hand.  In her grip, there was another’s hand. Harumi shivered slightly as the wind once again blew past her and Erin.

Harumi moved closer to Erin and gripped her arm with her other hand, snuggling closer to Erin for warmth and comfort as they stood on the school’s roof. The gusts of wind finally died down and all was still on the roof again, the only sounds made by the still rustling leaves scattered on the rooftop.