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Saw a post like this with negative outlook so I asked for it to be fixed

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something about asexuality that is underappreciated is its potential to recontextualise – this is true of queer reads + disabled reads generally, but asexuality is very much still widely in a space considered unworthy of looking at closer, because for many people it simply represents “not doing anything.” 

this also embedded in irl acephobic wank that claims it’s “not as queer” as other kinds of queerness, because again, all that is perceived is a surface-level idea that as it is apparently just “not having sex,” that must mean it is at odds with liberatory queer sexual theory/practice 

and so what does this apparent “not doing anything” have to say about our fictional reads? what does it say about desires for closeness, lack of language or gain of language, what does it say about characters who have never had sex, or about characters who have? what does it say about (lack of) agency and consent? about desire? how does it play into bdsm and kink? into concepts of sexiness and attractiveness (both wanting or not wanting to be perceived as such and perceiving or not perceiving of others as such)? into bodies and our relationships with them? how does it recontexualise characters goals or lack of goals for life? how does it put them at odds with social expectations for them in the times/stories they exist in? 

and once one starts asking actual curious questions, one can easily see that a character being read as – or, hell being, if we’re so lucky – asexual, is potentially doing a heck of a lot! 

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"fuck you" is basic. "i hope there's a major character death in your favorite ao3 fanfic after 56 chapters and 148k words" is smart. it's possible. it's terrifying.

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Filipino Mythology Week → Day 5: Mythical Locations/Places

Mountains in Filipino Mythology

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The history of corporate propaganda.

'Nobody wants to work' fails to mention the poverty wages and horrible workplaces.

Reframe the narrative: Capitalists refuse to pay thriving wages.

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18

Villain wrapped the rope around Hero's wrists, knotting it tightly. "You're mine now."

"Bold of you to assume I wasn't yours before."

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— Bob Dylan from When the Deal Goes Down on Modern Times (2006)

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When your wife's feet hurt, but also your masculinity isn't fragile

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— the seven husbands of evelyn hugo by taylor jenkins reid (insp)

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I redid this older comic I made for my storytelling class based on this post. Have some cute wlw love in your day.

It’s hard, if I had more free time I could make it so pretty, this is what I could throw together for the assignment.

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I really love what you write. You're always the first one i check when i enter tumblr. Also, can i request an independent hero who stabbed their villain lover behind their back because they had to, just when villain thought they were so accepting and loving? And villain feels so betrayed and hurt And hero's never been so vulnerable and they just want forgiveness, but in the end they make up? It'll make me so happy if you do!

"You have some nerve showing up here again."

"That's me." The hero tried for a smile. "Full of nerve. Brave to the point of stupidity, I think you always said?"

The villain didn't smile back, because of course they wouldn't.

The hero's smile wilted. "Can I come in?"

"I can't stop you."

The hero waited, because that wasn't the same as permission, and honestly the villain was well within their rights to simply tell them to go away.

The villain's jaw clenched, and their fingers flexed on the door, clearly ready to slam it in the hero's face. Then their shoulders slumped and their hand dropped. They retreated back, leaving space for the hero to enter. It didn't feel like victory.

The hero stepped into the familiar flat, aching with the life they could have had and had broken. The villain looked tired. Had the nightmares come back? There was none of the usual debris of dishes by the sink either, so maybe they hadn't been eating either.

Worry twisted in the pit of the hero's stomach.

"Thanks," the hero said. "I know I have no right turning up here. After what I did. For what it's worth, I thought I was doing right, at the time."

The villain said nothing. They seemed like they'd retreated into themselves as much as away from the doorway; braced for another blow, crumpled and guarded and small.

The hero felt a wave of nausea.

"I'm sorry," they said.

Again, the villain said nothing. They simply looked at the hero for a moment.

"I thought I was doing right, but it wasn't right, what I did to you," the hero continued. "I know that now. Fighting is one thing. Using your feelings - our relationship - is another. I made you trust me and then I abused that honour."

The villain looked away, but even that didn't fully hide the shimmer of unshed tears in their eyes. The villain's fists curled at their sides as if they could shove down all of the emotions they had once finally grown comfortable showing.

"It's my fault," the villain said, coldly. "I ignored my instincts. No one like you could love me. Accept me."

The hero's heart shattered a bit. They reached out on instinct.

The villain flinched back.

The hero stopped, releasing a breath. "No." Their voice still came out hoarse. "It's not your fault that I hurt you. Please don't think that, whatever else happens between us. You're not -"

"You did what you thought was right to stop me, to temporarily remove my powers. You said it yourself." The villain glanced back at them, gaze an abyss. "Because you think I'm a monster. A time bomb. Because you evaluated that what I shared with you was bad enough that you would do anything to stop me and the people I work for."

The hero floundered because - well, yeah. They'd felt like they had to. But also - "you're not a monster. I never thought that. I just-"

"And now you feel bad." The villain's voice managed to be perfectly measured. Carefully, meticulously, so. "And so you want me to forgive you for it. Then you can feel like the good guy again."

"That's not why I'm here. I - I wanted to make sure that you were okay."

"Now that I'm no longer a threat?"

"I wanted you to be okay before too. I wasn't - lying about that. We weren't a complete lie. I want you to know that. Please." They reached out again, only to stop themselves again, because the villain had already made it clear they didn't want that. However much the hero wanted to tuck them up safe. "I never meant to hurt you, not like this. I know I did."

"How am I supposed to trust that?" the villain whispered. "How do I trust you?"

The hero swallowed. "I don't know. I'll do whatever you need me to. For as long as you need me to."

The villain hesitated, and then they went into the kitchen and found the power-suppressant the hero had snuck into the villain's food. They held it out to the hero. "Do you even know," the villain said, and one of the tears finally escaped down their cheek, "what it feels like to have your powers ripped from you? Do you?"

The hero shook their head, mutely.

"Drink."

The hero took it, unscrewing the cap and moving into their lips. Before they could swallow, the villain's hand closed tight around their wrist.

The hero blinked in surprise.

The villain took the bottle back, hurling it across the room. It smashed against the opposite wall, and stained it.

The villain sobbed, openly, then, like they couldn't stop and the hero didn't know what to do and how to make it right because this was all their fault and they were so sorry. They hugged the villain before their brain kicked in, holding them close like they did after all of the nightmares.

"I would never," the villain spat into their shoulder, even as they clung to the hero, shaking violently. "I would never."

They may as well have said 'how could you?' and it felt like a excellent question. A haunting one.

Maybe that was the difference between being a hero and being a good person.

The hero did. And the villain would never.

They stayed like that until the villain's tears dried up. Until they couldn't breathe again.

"You could have made it permanent," the villain said. "Why didn't you? Did you screw up the dose and come back to finish the job?"

"No. No. I...didn't want to do that to you. The more I got to know you..." They'd felt they had to stop the villain, but they hadn't been able to bring themselves to do something so invasive, so awful, as remove their abilities entirely. The very thought made bile burn in the hero's mouth.

The villain pulled back, seizing hold of the hero's chin, studying them.

The hero let them look. For once, they didn't try and hide anything.

The villain's other hand moved over the hero's cheek, and they realised they were crying too.

"Oh, god," the hero reared back. "I'm sorry. I'm not - I didn't - I swear I'm not trying to make you feel sorry for me, or guilt you or anything-"

"I've never seen you cry," the villain said, almost absently. "You always seemed so at peace. So unlike me."

The hero wiped at their face. "We can all seem like a lot of things we're not."

"You really are sorry, aren't you?"

"More than I know how to say or prove. I don't expect anything from you, now. I just - I wanted you to know. I betrayed you. It was never on you. I could have found another way, a kinder way, and after all of my bloody preaching I didn't."

What good was talking about love and acceptance when, when the opportunity arose, they'd chosen fear instead?

The suppressor dripped into the carpet in the silence that followed.

The hero tried to hold the villain's gaze, but ended up averting their eyes to the floor in shame. It burned through them.

"I need some time," the villain said.

"Yeah."

"But maybe after that, we can...talk. Get to know each other. Properly. Not with you - you never talked. Not like this. You were always so perfect."

"Not talking to you about stuff doesn't sound very perfect of me."

"Yeah," the villain said, like maybe they were just realising that too.

They looked at each other again.

"If you ever betray me again," even powerless, the villain suddenly felt like something unstoppable, "I'll kill you. Powers or not."

"Yeah." The hero wet their lips, nodding, mouth dry. "That seems fair."

And, that time, the villain smiled.

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50 Types of Kisses - Writing Prompts

Send in a number and a pairing!

Small kisses littered across the other’s face.

A small, fleeting kiss - which is immediately followed by a passionate, hungry kiss.

A breathy demand: “Kiss me” - and what the other person does to respond.

An accidental brush of lips followed by a pause and going back for another, on purpose.

Throwing their arms around the other person’s neck, hugging them close before kissing them passionately on the lips.

Wild, breathless kisses brought on by a heartfelt gift.

French kisses where they trace every tooth with their tongues as though trying to memorize them.

Laying a gentle kiss to the back of the other’s hand.

A kiss that lasts so long, they are sharing each other’s breaths.

A hello/good-bye kiss that is given without thinking - where neither person thinks twice about it.

Morning kisses that are exchanged before either person opens their eyes, kissing blindly until their lips meet in a blissful encounter.

Sneaking away to a hidden corner to share a secretive kiss.

Butterfly kisses against the other’s cheeks.

A kiss so desperate that the two wind around each other, refusing to let go until they are finished.

A fierce kiss that ends with a bite on the lip, soothing it with a lick.

One person pouting, only to have it removed by a kiss from the other person.

Tucking their hands beneath the other person’s shirt, just to watch them break the kiss and gasp in surprise at the sensation of cold/warm hands on their skin.

Teasing kisses where one person blows air into the other’s mouth and runs away.

One person stopping a kiss to ask “Do you want to do this?”, only to have the other person answer with a deeper, more passionate kiss.

Kissing in a stairwell, giving them an artificial height difference.

A chaste kiss given to each other because they are in mixed company.

A kiss that is leading to more, but is interrupted by a third party.

A kiss that tastes of the food/dessert they are eating.

Deep kisses where they have their hands tangled in each other’s hair to pull them closer.

Wet kisses after finding refuge from the rain.

Brushing a kiss along the shell of the other person’s ear.

Kisses exchanged while one person sits on the other’s lap.

One person tracing the other’s lips with a fingertip until they can’t resist any longer, tilting their chin towards them for a kiss.

Staring at each other’s lips for a moment before moving closer, as if drawn together by some unseen force.

Weak, sweaty kisses because it’s unbearably hot.

Pulling away from a kiss, whispering words of love against each other’s lips.

A kiss so passionate, so perfect - that after they part, neither person can open their eyes for a few moments afterwards.

An unexpected kiss that shocks the one receiving it.

Kisses that start on their fingers and run up their arm, eventually ending on their lips.

An awkward kiss given after a first date.

Starting with bunny kisses before moving on to soft kisses.

Cleaning the other person’s lips with a lick and a kiss.

Whispering “I love you” before a chaste, delicate kiss.

Kissing tears from the other’s face.

A gentle kiss that quickly descends into passion, with little regard for what’s going on around them.

Kisses shared under an umbrella.

Distracting kisses from someone that are meant to stop the other person from finishing their work, and give them kisses instead.

A kiss pressed to the top of the head.

Tentative kisses given in the dark.

Kisses exchanged as they move around, hitting the edges of tables or nearly tripping over things on the floor before making it to the sofa, or bed.

A lingering kiss before a long trip apart.

A kiss paired with a tight hug, knocking the breath out of the person being hugged.

One person has to bend down in order to kiss their partner, who is standing on their tip-toes to reach their partner’s.

Short and sweet kiss after meeting up for a date.

A kiss, followed by more that trail down the jaw and neck.

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Dearest to All, Dearest of All (1)

Listen i know i said I'll update blind faith and i promise i will but i genuinely have no self control so here, have my version of the disney princess au without yknow villain au thrown in. I was inspired by @i-put-the-yan-in-polyandry and their idea of Teyvat being our biggest worshipper, so credits to them!! <3 p.s. this one is definitely fluffy and happy

"I don't want to leave," a tiny voice weeps, young and childish. If the voice had a body, it would've stomped its feet and rubbed its teary eyes with the back of its hands. It would've done all that and then latched on to the legs of the being before it. 

Said being— you— kneel and take the tiny little spirit between your palms. "Someone must leave first," you say in a quiet, soothing tone. The warmth of your hands and your words only make the little spirit weep harder, its light dimming. "That is a very old story, little one. There is no other version of it." 

"I wish to stay with you," the spirit is petulant and pouting, even with no mouth. It turns and spins in your hands, upset. "Why must I leave? What is so important about one world?" 

"I wish for you to live," your eyes, a maelstorm of stars that burn bright and gentle, peer at the little spirit. "I wish for this world to live. You and this world are young, is it not only right to let you two grow together then?" 

The spirit knows that it can say no, that it can continue to refuse— but despite its displeasure, its sadness, it will not; you are its Creator, the very first to greet it upon its awakening. It grew and learned in your gentle hands, and in your warm embrace it sat and listened to the stories you told of world long yet yet loved all the same. 

How can it say no, when you've given it so much love? When it knows that your love is the only reason you let yourself go through the agony of Creation again and again? 

The spirit can say no, but it will not. It will never refuse you.

"I will do it," the spirit says, and your beaming smile, the little glittery rays of happiness that surround you like a halo made from the sun and stars, wash away whatever reservations it had. "For you." 

"Thank you, little spirit." 

"Will I have a name?" The spirit is now reluctantly excited, whirring around your palms and fingertips. Its glow has returned, too.

You hum and move up, letting the spirit up on your shoulder. Your hand parts the curtains of the sky, clouds and stars alike clinging to your skin in a happy buzz as you show the spirit the world you've created; mountains and rivers, sands and skies, volcanoes and snowy lands. Through it all, the remnants of your power upon its grounds shine like a beacon— the elements and the ley lines are a comfort to see. 

"The flow of time will change the lands, that is an inevitable fact, little spirit," you begin. "Animals will die and new creatures will appear, but through it all know that I will always remain for you. Eons and eras may pass, but you shall never be forgotten. In the stars, I will watch over you— and who knows, maybe some day I will come visit you."  

"You must!" The spirit gasps. "And by then, I will make this world the best world possible! Everbody will know of you, I promise!" 

You only smile again, "As for your name. . ." 

The spirit leans close to your face, peering up at you with eager non-existing eyes. 

"You shall be named Teyvat." 

Teyvat has not forgotten its Creator, nor the promise it has made to you; Teyvat whispers your name in the ears of every newborn babe and animal that is birthed into its vast lands, it tells tales of you and Creations to all the gods and deities that grace the earth, the waters, the skies, the thunders, the fires and the falling snow. It builds faceless statues of you long before humans learn to cut wood and speak, statues that form a shelter for the needy and the desperate, bearing fruits around in villages where the earth is dry and food rations are low. 

Teyvat speaks and speaks of you until there is not a single soul that does not know of their Creator, until even the gods on its earth and those up in Celestia all kneel before your statues and pray to you. 

Teyvat has not forgotten you; in your absence, it takes comfort in the elements that flow through its veins, in the ley lines whose shine can never truly compare to you. At night, it pores over the dark, glittering curtains of the sky and hopes you'll visit it soon. 

It has missed you, and it can feel how desperate its people are to meet you— Teyvat wants to show you all the lives it jas nurtured, all the festivals and celebrations done in your name. 

It misses you— so when one day all residents of Teyvat, be they in in any nation, be they hidden or not, see a bright, golden star falling down from the sky and leaving glittering rays behind, they all can feel Teyvat buzzing and humming in happiness. 

Zhongli places his hand atop a rock, and warmth seeps into his skin like hot tea on a cold winter day. 

Venti sits upon Starsnatch cliff, lyre in hand and Dvalin beside him. He hear the thousand winds laughing and singing, a ringing of delighted wind chimes following their wake. 

Ei, out of her Plane of Euthymia, watches the sky. The gold lightning she occasionally sees is not her doing, yet she can tell they're harmless.

And the Archons and deities, who are connected to Teyvat in a way average beings are not, hear Teyvat's happy calls, "You're here, you're here, you're here!" 

They know immediately who you are. 

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For the young people in a family whose opinions are not respected in their household, and thus, developed anxiety and weak-will who always blame themselves for the littlest things; I just want you to know, that sometimes, your family members go against you and put you down not because there's something wrong with you or your opinions. If they do it constantly to the point of affecting your self-esteem, then they are just doing it because THEY CAN.

Some people just like giving out back-handed or unnecessary opinions that belittle people for the heck of it. Come on, you probably had classmates who give a lot of side-comments. Some parents bring that annoying character to adulthood. They're so used to doing it that even when you make sense, they will give out negative reactions because they've been doing it to you for a long time.

Not because you are wrong.

And if you confront them about it, they will say you are wrong, so better not fight.

I just want you to know that a normal teenager shouldn't be feeling weak, wrong, and unconfident. A normal teenager doesn't feel dreadful when their family comes home. A normal teenager doesn't usually try hard to please anyone.

If you are not a normal teenager who is sure of themselves and can recognize cognitive biases, then your family did you dirty, dear.

What I hate about Filipino culture is this concept of "In the end of the day, that's your family." I hear radio djs give this stupid-ass conclusions to people (and adult sons and daughters, at that!) even after reading the narrative of how their parents destroyed their humanity, making them lead an awful life.

Maybe if you are dependent, you have no choice but to endure it all. But I want you to know that you don't have to absorb it. Notice the biases your family shows you. Think that they are humans too, just like another passerby who can be wrong and imperfect, but they just happen to be your blood relatives. You are allowed not listen to them. You are allowed resent their words. The point is, don't let them affect your character in a negative way. Nature and nurture are hard things to shake off, but you have to be more superior than that. So when time comes that you can leave, know that you are allowed not to come back and acknowledge them as family.

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Platonic | Genshin Team Dynamic

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"I'll come home as many times as it takes."

"We'll be there to welcome you then."