#and I am feeling Some Type of Way

[saltpepperbeard]

is this anything

#OFMD #OFMD Season 2 #OFMD S2 Spoilers #Gentlebeard #Blackbonnet #Edward Teach #Stede Bonnet #Edit #okay stay with me here lol STAY WITH ME HERE #ed's face really has me feeling some kind of way #((i mean that's a given lol but his EXPRESSION there more like)) #i keep staring at it and going back and forth between thinking it's awe/reluctant intrigue #as though he's furrowing his brow because he WANTS to not get butterflies for stede but stede is making that Very Difficult HSDJKLS #OR #and hence me making this set- #he's feeling some sort of complicated emotion in seeing stede step away from the person he met him as #the colorful bitchy poised fine thing he fell in love with #because i am ALSO sitting here wondering if stede is doing this all entirely on his own volition #or if he was ENCOURAGED to do so by izzy or someone else as like a #'it'll win you more respect and win you back ed's heart if you act and dress this way' type deal #like something something another ongoing commentary on masculinity something something #but it could ALSO be stede really wanting that world/respect/look for HIMSELF #something something stede and ed wanting to be each other and delving into each other's realms something #but just as it soured a bit for ed #i have to wonder if it'll also sour a bit for stede #and they'll consequently find 'the other home' they're looking for in EACH OTHER #and settle into a mixture of swashbuckling ruggedness/finery and subsequently complete/compliment each other #IDK i'm not being very coherent about it HA but i have many many thoughts of course #stede changing up his entire aesthetic just has me very very intrigued on how he's going to move forward #and how others are going to perceive him

[firein-thesky]

delicate

━ ━ ◦ ❖ ◦━ ━ ◦ ❖ ◦━ ━ ◦ ❖ ◦━ ━

pairing: vash x reader

cw: mention of guns/shooting. a touch suggestive….subtly horny.

a/n: here is a drabble. it is haunting me. vash is haunting me. you understand.

━ ━ ◦ ❖ ◦━ ━ ◦ ❖ ◦━ ━ ◦ ❖ ◦━ ━

“will you teach me?”

vash looks up from his gun, spread out across the wooden table in bits of glinting silver, like sharp teeth pulled out of a metal mouth. the evening sun is hot and rosy and burnishes the little bar in russet.

he’s been cleaning his gun methodically for the better part of an hour.

his brows perk up, “how to shoot?” he asks.

“yeah—wanna learn.”

vash makes a face—just a sour twist of his mouth. the falling of his lashes against his cheek.

“do you have to?” he asks.

“well—if i’ll be traveling with you guys—i don’t want to be dead weight.”

vash shakes his head quickly, “there’s no such thing. besides, you’re our healer. that’s far better than a gunmen.”

eyes like stars in the blue sky catch yours. his voice is soft—earnest.

“healer’s the best thing you can be.” he vows gently, “you don’t need a gun for that.”

“vash.” you say, stern and stubborn. “c’mon. don’t give me this.”

he almost looks like he’ll plead with you, “you don’t need it.”

“what if i’m in danger?” you urge.

“i’ll protect you.” vash says firmly.

“what if you’re not around?”

the question hangs in the air. the sun sinks deeper into its red horizon. you swear you can hear the furious brag of your heart, can feel the way vash’s shoulders sink under an invisible weight.

“i don’t—“ he starts, frowning, “i don’t want to.”

“fine. then i’ll ask wolfwood.” you turn to go and he reaches out, snags your wrist.

“don’t go. and don’t ask him. i—“ his fingers, cool and metallic, gently urge you back, “i wish i didn’t have to teach you.”

the confession silences you. you slacken in his hold and look at him. he picks his head up to look back at you. he’s looking at you so sorrowful, so guilty. hangdog look on his face like he’s already done something bad. already committed a sin too great.

you don’t know what to say—any of the snippier remarks about not being naive or weak or some damsel he needs to protect die on your tongue, find a graveyard there and deaden your voice. silence stretches.

vash finally says;

“i wish there was a life for you where you didn’t have to learn how to handle a gun.”

“so you’ll teach me?” you ask.

his fingers, delicately holding your wrist, now slip away. you miss their pressure, their weight immediately.

he nods, slow, with a regretful sort of half smile, sad.

“i’ll teach you,” he says, “but you gotta promise me something.”

“what is it?” you ask.

“remember you’re a healer.” and then he tilts his head, considers you, “and don’t ever aim for the heart.”

“but what if—“

“ah, ah, ah! you have to promise or i won’t teach you! those are my rules.”

you let go of a huff of air, “fine. i promise.”

“atta girl!” vash says now, warm and with a smile. heat burns your face and you don’t think it’s the last dregs of the sun barely clinging to the sky.

he slides over on the bench he’s sitting on, welcoming you on. “now, look close—i’ll teach you how to take a gun apart and then put it back together.”

you sidle in beside him. suddenly you’re shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip. and you can see the bit of stubble on his jaw and can smell—him. he smells like sunlight, musky and warm, a little sweet. he smells like the wind. petrichor and thistle.

“i thought you were gonna teach me how to shoot—“

“patience!” vash says, “we’ll get there. this is an important first step.”

the sun melts away into evening blue and you watch vash, with his nimble, sure fingers, put the gun back together carefully. then skillfully take it apart again. this time he urges you to do it.

and he sits, tucking in close, guiding your hands and helping you along. murmuring soft that this piece goes here. and do you remember this part? just—twist like this—gentle like. that’s it. for such dangerous items, they’re rather delicate, huh?

“yeah,” you breathe, watching the shadow of his pale lashes flutter against his cheek. “delicate.”

he laughs a little, easy and soft. almost husky. “there’s a reason gunmen call them their babies—their lovers.” he eyes you and there’s a strange twinkle in them, “c’mon. you’re close—what’s next?”

something flutters inside you—and suddenly you feel rather delicate yourself. you try to focus on the parts in front of you, attempting to make a whole. they look like scrap metal to you. your mind feels just as scattered as the pieces in front of you.

“um.” you say intelligently.

vash draws his fingers towards another piece, taps it gently and you’re rather stuck on the image. “this one—easy with it.” you move to snap it into another place and you struggle. twisting, metal on metal, grating.

he settles his hands over yours, guiding, “here—should fit, nice and snug, just like that.” his voice is low, by your ear. the piece slides right into place with a satisfying click.

you swallow.

when you’ve finished putting the gun back together, he says, “now—we’ll work on shooting when you can do that without me.”

“what?!” you demand, “that wasn’t apart of the deal!”

he shrugs and you can feel it against you, lopsided smile all boyish. “you want to learn how to shoot—i’m teaching you how to shoot. the right way.”

he pulls the gun from you, fingers brushing yours, and in a matter of seconds and the sound of clinking metal, he’s taken the gun apart and torn it into pieces again. it lays on the table in front of you, glinting cold silver now that the sky is all plum and dark.

you’d hardly seen his fingers move they were so quick, so—

“try again.” he encourages.

you eye the puzzle in front of you, your own fingers dancing towards the first piece.

“good,” vash says, smiling, leaning back a little in his seat. and then soft, “keep going.”

and you spend the night like that, certain that you’re somehow being taken apart, too. and put back together all over again.

kinda like what a healer does—kinda like what you do for him.

#vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #trigun x reader #cielo writes! #cielo’s writing! #sorry i am feeling Some Type of Way about him

[blushweddinggowns]

"You look stupid as all hell right now."

"You look stupid as all hell right now," Mike snorted as he watched Robin touch up Steve's eyeliner, "You know that right?"

"It's called romance, you ass," Steve hissed, flipping him off while dutifully keeping his head still, "Who invited you anyway?"

"Your better half."

Steve rolled his eyes but he didn't correct him. He was right anyway, "Isn't it a school night? Are you allowed to be out this late? What would your mom think, knowing you were wasting your precious brain power on Halloween parties-"

"I'm in college you fucking dick!"

That struck a nerve. Steve smirked, good. The little shit deserved it.

"And done!" Robin announced before either of them could throw anymore insults, "I think you look good, way sexier than Tim Curry, for sure. Mike come with me to go get Nancy for a second opinion. You obviously can't be trusted."

Mike huffed, mumbling something under his breath before both of them left the room. Steve was pretty damn sure Eddie had sent him in as a spy because despite all of his reassurances, he still didn't believe that Steve was going to follow through on this stupid costume. But here he was, adjusting his fish net stockings while examining himself in the mirror.

He looked...decent. Which was better than he had been expecting. The make-up wasn't as cartoonish as the movie, something that he hoped Eddie would appreciate. In all honesty, Steve was going to take no criticisms for how he put the whole thing together, Eddie was lucky it was happening at all. Not that he would but still. Though if Steve had to guess, Eddie was going to be a fan. He better fucking be a fan, considering how he'd been asking for this forever.

They'd been together five years. Five fantastic, wonderful years. And four Halloweens with Steve laughing in his face whenever he brought up the Rocky Horror Picture show as costume inspiration. But this year...Steve didn't know. Eddie had just looked...extra desperate this time, needy in a way that Steve just couldn't say no to.

So now here he was, moments away from going downstairs to entertain all of their new and old friends for hours on end, all while wearing a corset.

The things he did for love.

"Knock, knock," Eddie's voice called from the other side of the door, like he could just smell that Steve was alone, "You decent in there Stevie?"

"Not exactly?" Steve called back, still frowning in the mirror, "But you can come in. Just lock it behind you."

Steve didn't look up when Eddie waltzed in, but he did hear his little sharp intake of breath.

"Holy shit," Eddie mumbled, bordering on a whimper as he came up behind Steve. He wrapped his arms around his waist, locking eyes with him through the mirror, "You look..."

"Stupid as hell?" Steve answered for him, smiling a little at how flushed Eddie's face already was. Damn, maybe this thing wasn't that bad after all if it could make him look like that.

Eddie shook his head, swallowing once before breathing out, "I was going to say beautiful. Gorgeous. Breath-taking. Extremely attractive-"

"Okay, okay, I get it!" Steve laughed, turning around in his arms. He wrapped them around Eddie's neck, pulling him down for a quick kiss, "I'm glad you like it so much. In fact, I'll even let you take it off later tonight."

Steve thought that would have been a good deal, but it made Eddie frown, "Later? But we can-"

"We can what?" Steve interrupted, "Have sex with all of our adopted children downstairs waiting for us? I don't think so."

But Eddie wasn't done begging. He was even starting to bring out the wet, puppy dog eyes, the manipulative little shit, "B-But I can be quick. I can fix your make-up after. I can-"

"Nope," Steve laughed, pulling away from him with a little smirk, "You made your bed. Now lie in it."

Eddie nearly looked like he was gonna cry, the little drama queen, "I...I didn't think this through, did I?"

Steve grinned, leaning up to kiss his cheek before going to the door. He looked back at him, his smile getting a little bigger at the desperate look on his face.

Maybe he did look like an idiot in the bizarre get-up, but Steve didn't care. Not when it had Eddie rushing to follow him out.

#steddie #steddie ficlet #silly steddie #so so silly #ask games #and ty for the ask! #I am feeling some type of way about my writing lately #Need to do something #idk what #maybe this will help #slowly making my way through~ #if you sent one it will be answered! #eventually!

[simplydnp]

feel like we focused on the dan in colour more than the dan in phil's shirt of it all

#is that growth? idk #rip to all the gifmakers trying to select a colour pallette having to deal with that monstrosity of a rainbiw #am i complaining absolutely not. love to see dan in colour. love it bc phil also loves to see dan in colour #theres just. something about. dan wearing phils shirt on phil's birthday that has me feeling some type of way #dnp #c.text #dan and phil

[deviouz]

OKAY SO LIKE idk if you take requests anymore but I need this done so bad and I love your writing so like imagine Jason Todd being adopted and raised by Catwoman and the reader by Batman as robin like a girl robin and basically Jason needs info or wtv and he defeats the reader in a battle or something and handcuffs her and like seduces her for it and reader's usually had super high morals and stuff but she's like simping over him and melts for him practically but idk something like tht like cat women and Batman but roles reversed but yea

Totally get if this is like weird too much though lmao

here’s a lil drabble while i make my way through other requests <3 thank you lovie!! also, jason’s name didn’t really come up, so i guess you can imagine it as whoever? i did write with jason in mind though!! ;; soz

role reversal !

“Come on, I know you can spit it out. The old man can’t be that important to you.”

It was hard to fight off the embarrassed blush as you jerked your wrists from behind your back, the cold bite of steel a painful reminder of the predicament you had found yourself in. The fight was long and drawn out, having left both of you breathless for a while before your captor had gotten the upper hand. It was times like this you really wished you had paid more attention to your father’s teachings about how to get out of precarious circumstances as this one.

How the hell were you supposed to dislocate your thumb and slip out of the handcuffs again?

Being Robin had given you quite the ego. It hadn't really occurred to you that getting captured was a possibility. Batman had shown you every trick in the book on how not to get caught.

Your opponent was as sly as a fox, though. He was quick on his feet, definitely hard to defeat. It was when you had the upper hand, or believed so, that the rug was quickly pulled out from under you, sharp smile and all.

Silence would be your best friend. There was no way in hell you were going to divulge any information that could be used against either yourself or your family — you’d sooner die than allow that to happen.

It was when he had made way to pluck the black mask shielding your eyes did you move, head jerking to the side while a noise of disapproval escaped your throat.

“Don’t touch me.”

He kneeled before you, lips curled into a smirk as a hand trailed from your knee to the middle of your thigh. Your suit was thin, meant more for agility than anything. It was nothing compared to the protective kevlar of the Batsuit. Stealth was your strong suit, and it turns out lingering touches from a man clad in a catsuit was your kryptonite.

“Don’t be like that. We can have fun! I promise I’ll make it worth your time,” he practically purred, voice smooth and intoxicating. “Just tell me what you know.”

Had your heart always beat this fast? Did he drug you? Maybe it was the lack of sleep finally catching up, the deprivation rearing its ugly head at the worst possible time.

“I thought I told you not to touch me,” you quipped back with a clenched jaw. Hands balled into fists and eyes narrowed, you were a sight for sore eyes. “How about you take these cuffs off and we go for a round two, hm?”

He had the audacity to giggle like it was the funniest thing in the world. The hand on your thigh began to inch upwards once more.

“Darling,” God, did that sound pretty rolling off the tip of his tongue, “any round two that we have will be somewhere with some nice booze and a bed, and maybe with soundproof walls depending on how loud I can get you.”

You were stronger than this, surely. Anything to protect Gotham and the people inhabiting it. You wouldn’t lose your nerve to a man with pretty words knelt before you.

“I can give you what you want, you know. Think of it like a trade; you give me the information I need, and I’ll have you screaming my name for all of Gotham to hear. Fair?”

As his touch began to grow more bold, warm hands slowly parting your thighs as he moved in between them, you knew you had to act fast. Resolve could only last so long, especially when coupled with a nighttime job known as being Robin — you were long overdue for something devious and a long nap.

Mustering up what little restraint remained, your foot raised to kick him back, momentarily leaving him a breathless heap of muscle and suave on the ground before you.

“You really don’t listen well.”

#rahhhh unedited bc it’s 5:30 am and i need to sleep #putting this in the queue so more people see it tho ig #idk man #i’m sleep deprived and delirious #also??? imagining big beefy jason in a catsuit had me feeling some type of way i cannot lie #dhsiwkdnfn anyways #. . . my fics 💌 #. . . dc 💭 #. . . jason todd 💭 #. . . queue can’t afford me 🪻 #jason todd x reader #jason todd #dc x reader

[vcrnons]

[GOING SEVENTEEN] EP.91 전참시 벌 #1 (Point of Omniscient Interfere Penalty #1)

#seventeen #svt #going seventeen #gose #vernon #mingyu #the8 #dino #dokyeom #*mine #my gif #these closeup shots made me feel some type of way and i am making that: everyone else's problem x #<3

[prophetickisser]

we are meant to make examples out of traitors

bonus:

#good omens #goodomensedit #aziraphale #archangel gabriel #anyways i'm feeling Some Type of way about that particular line!!! #going insane at 5am girlies!!!!! #they did it with crowley they tried to with aziraphale #and the kind of succeeded with gabriel in go2! #i'm gnawing at my enclosure #** #i COULD schedule this to post at a sane time. am i going to? no #post now babeyyyyy

[johnslittlespoon]

plsssss can we talk about bucky getting his revenge and edging gale

gale edging john post | yes we cannnnn !! eta: ykw. i need to just turn this into a proper oneshot since this ended up being over 1k words. new wip created </3

john may be a man of little self control, but after that incident, he decides he can be at least a tiny bit patient so he can catch gale off guard with it when he gets his revenge. because the next few times they're fooling around, gale's expecting a retaliation, john can see it in the way he tenses up and glances at his face before he comes like he's waiting for it, but john never follows through with it. he wants gale to let his guard down, and that he does.

so a week or so later when john's kissing him and feeling him up and asks ever so sweetly if he can tie gale's wrists behind his back, gale doesn't think anything of it. john likes to take control occasionally and gale sometimes likes the feeling of not having to worry about making decisions, getting to let john call the shots, and john always puts extra time and effort into the way he touches gale when he's restrained because he likes to watch his darling blondie squirm.

john has him sit in his lap facing him, letting gale lean against his shoulder to take the pressure off his legs while john works him open on his fingers, already riled up from the pretty gasps gale's making against his neck but reigning himself in because he's gonna need to have some self control for once.

he sweet–talks gale through it, telling him how good he sounds, how well he's doing as he sinks down on his cock, guiding him with hands on his hips so he doesn't unbalance himself without the use of his own hands where they're tied behind his back with a belt. he stays still at first, letting gale ride him slowly, keeping his hands loosely on his waist while praising him and talking him into that foggy needy headspace until gale's thighs are trembling and john takes pity on him (and frankly is so hard he doesn't have the patience to keep his own hips still anymore).

so he runs his hands down from gale's waist to his ass to hold him in place while he rolls his hips up into him, watching the way gale's eyebrows pinch and his pretty lips fall open in a silent oh as john angles himself in a way gale couldn't with his own movements. lets his mouth run as he slowly picks up his pace, all the coos of "so pretty", "you're taking me so well", "you feel so fucking good", loving how reactive gale is to every word and every thrust.

he moves his hands to gale's hips to get a better grip, can tell gale's getting close because he gets noisier, losing his filter and letting out breathy little "fuck"s and "john"s, head rolling back on his shoulders to bare his neck, rocking his hips down to meet john every time he fucks up into him. and then just as he gets the warning of "close", he pulls gale down by his hips to bury himself deep in him and stops moving completely.

the whine of desperation that tears out of gale's throat when he lifts his head has john knocking his skull back against the wall, cock twitching hard enough inside gale that he's sure the blond can feel it. he watches gale's biceps flex when he instinctively tries to get his hands free, feels his hips try to squirm out of his hands to keep moving, but he keeps him pinned firmly down, dizzy at the way he clenches down around him.

a plaintive "john" pulls a groan from him, but he composes himself, lifts his gaze back up to gale's face and lets the corners of his lips quirk up, purrs out a "yeah, sweetheart? something wrong?"

laughs at the way gale cusses him out, a rare sight of his little spitfire with a mouth on him, though the effect is a lot closer to being hissed at by a kitty than actually being convinced to move. john lets him run his mouth, murmurs a "cute" once gale's done, and then promptly hammers his hips up into him just once, swearing under his breath at the way it punches an open–mouthed moan from gale. rocks his hips up into him a few times before going back to a quick and rough pace, the sound of skin on skin getting both of them flushed.

it only takes a minute before gale's hips are twitching into his hands and whispered pleas are falling from his mouth and john thinks he's never had to use as much self restraint in his life as he does when he forces himself to stop moving again, once again yanking gale down against him, holding him still in his lap.

gale really fights it this time, enough so that it's a merciful distraction for john from how close he himself is (trust his idea to backfire as he ends up edging himself along with gale, he thinks) when he has to use proper strength to keep him in place. any blood that might've still been lurking around his brain rushes south the moment he sees gale's eyes getting shiny with frustration, cheeks all pink and lips red and flushed from biting down on them.

"not so fun, is it?" john taunts, but his voice comes out a bit more raspy than he would've liked, evident how much the stop and start is getting to him too. it's probably karma, because he knows he's being more mean than gale was to him, but he can't help it; those blue eyes look so pretty when tears are threatening to spill over when he's desperate and needy like this.

gale wriggles in his lap the best he can, still furiously chasing his orgasm, head finally falling back in frustration before he lifts it again, looking john in the eyes, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and letting it go. he whines quietly and whimpers out the sweetest "please, johnny," almost crying in his impatience, and fuck.

john doesn't mean for his hips to twitch up at that, but they do, hard. gale sobs out a broken sound at the way john's cock hits just where he needs it to in his accidental movement, and gale spills over his stomach completely untouched, just like that. john swears and drives his hips up into him in an attempt to quickly amend his slip up, moaning loud at the wrecked noises that immediately start bubbling up out of gale as he fucks him through his orgasm.

he tips over the edge himself from the desperate sounds the blond starts to make as he crosses the line into overstimulation, feeling gale's hips jerk frantically in his hands, fighting to get away from the incessant rhythm of his cock inside him as john shudders through his own orgasm, fingers digging into gale's sides.

he slows down to a gentle grind of his hips when gale collapses against his chest, face pressed to his neck, shivering at the slow drag inside him and whining pitifully when john eventually pulls out, settling him down on his thighs while he reaches around to undo the belt and free his hands. his heart bursts at the way gale instantly wraps his arms around him, clinging to him as they both catch their breath, john petting his hair and showering him with praise.

he eventually huffs out a laugh, murmuring a "sorry buck. payback's a bitch, but that was an accident, i swear." gale groans against him in complaint, lightly nipping at his shoulder in retaliation, too tired to fight back, but john's sure he'll pay for it eventually.

it's confirmed with the "better watch your back, darling" that he gets when they're both pulling their clothes back on, but to john, that sounds less like a threat and more like a good time, and he shoots gale a crooked grin to let him know as much.

#bruh this was 1.3k i did not mean to get into so much detail #the keep reading button has never been more necessary #i wish i could crank out long drabbles like this for all the asks #but they take sooo long for me to write i am NOT a fast writer lol hence why i post a fic like once a month #but sometimes certain asks just itch my brain some type of way and then boom i've thrown up onto a tumblr post #anyway dacryphilia my beloved <3 #in any other scenario john hates to see gale cry. but i think in bed he would have an affinity for making him feel so good that he cries #have i thought about this extensively? perhaps. #i just think that pretty boys with pretty eyes and pink lips deserve to cry during sex sometimes. as a treat #johnslittlespoon asks #johnslittlespoon brainrot #johnslittlespoon spicy #buck x bucky #buckbucky

[blujayonthewing]

#I've played with irl atheists and catholics and everything in between #but it rarely feels like faith is a real factor for anyone-- DM or player #outside of‚ again‚ divine spellcasters and Big Epic Plot Things #I mean there are a couple of 'RAAAHGH FUCK THE GODS >:C' edgy backstory types but #no one is just Normally Culturally Religious and it's WEIRD #like it's not even a matter of faith in dnd! the gods are LITERALLY OBJECTIVELY PROVABLY REAL #so what does that MEAN for the average person! how does it shape language? business? culture? #where are the people wearing holy symbols like amulets-- or the way modern christians very casually wear crosses? #blessings over meals? prayers before bed? burnt offerings? #and like I enjoy thinking about world and culture building but I know that's A Whole Thing but even just like... #it doesn't feel like anyone believes in gods at all except clerics and paladins #like they DO because they factually exist but in the same way I 'believe in' like. the president of france. #like yeah he exists and is important to some people but has no bearing on my life whatsoever #that's such a fucking weird approach to the DIVINE in a polytheist world where those gods are YOUR CULTURE'S GODS?? #I am bad at this myself but I'm not religious so it's harder for me to remember what Being Religious All The Time Casually is like lol #funny enough my character with the most intentionally religious background in this sense #is one of my ones who's ended up wrapped up in Big Plot God Things lmao #'aubree starts the campaign with a holy symbol of yondalla because of course she does why wouldn't she' #'oh okay well she's gonna get deeply and personally entangled with a bunch of death gods immediately' fdkjghkdf oh!! welp #you don't really pray to urogalan unless you're breaking ground for a new building or someone just died so it's STILL weird for her lol #but at least I had the framework there of 'oh yeah the gods exist and matter to me and my everyday life and culture' in general #about me #posts from twitter

[againstme]

idk man i’m just thinking about against me! and transness, especially cause we’re coming up on ten fucking years of transgender dysphoria blues, on the 21st.

lyrics have been swimming in my head lately.

“what god doesnt give to you, you’ve got to go and get for yourself.”

“if i could’ve chosen, i would’ve been born a woman. my mother once told me she would’ve named me laura. i’d grow up to be strong and beautiful like her.”

“you wouldn’t think something like gender identity would complicate something like asking for some company.”

“she spent the last few years of her life running from the boy she used to be.”

“standing naked in front of that hotel bathroom mirror, in her dysphoria’s reflection, she still saw her mother’s son.”

“agitated states of amazement, never quite the woman that she wanted to be.”

“you want them to see you like they see every other girl, they just see a faggot, they hold their breath not to catch the sick.”

“chipped nail polish and a barbed wire dress. is your mother proud of your eyelashes? silicone chest, and collagen lips. how would you even recognize me?”

“no more troubled sleep, there’s a brave new world that’s raging inside of me.”

“all my life, wishing i was one of them. there will always be a difference between me and you.”

“what’s the best end you can hope for? pity fucks and table scraps?”

“all the young graves filled, don’t the best all burn out so bright and so fast?”

“sometimes at night, i pray to wake a different person in a different place.”

“i don’t want to hang around the graveyard, waiting for something dead to come back. i know you think you’ve got one up on me, that you can see something i can’t.”

“i wanna be so real, you can see the difference.”

“dig up your bones, early graves are not homes.”

“come on, shape shift with me! what’ve you got to lose? fuck it!”

“confessing childhood secrets of dressing up in women’s clothes, compulsions you never knew the reasons to.”

“i’m sick of feeling like i’m losing my mind. sick of doing the same things most nights after night. sick of self loathing and self absorption, self destructive narcissism.”

some of these are directly referencing transness, some just alluding to it. some are just ones that i relate to as i’ve grown up struggling with my gender and sexuality and accepting my own transness and dealing with self harm and self destruction and relying too much on drugs.

finding myself buying baggies of coke and just stuffing them in my wallet while i walked downtown, feeling this immense guilt at the bottom of my stomach for essentially just wasting 25 dollars on a drug that wasn’t doing much for me besides making me feel like i was feeling something different than what my life was. getting scared shitless while in the line at the convenience store after picking up, seeing cops come into the store, and the small tied up bag filled with what was more baby powder than coke in my back pocket felt like the the heaviest and most obvious thing in the world.

and then i’d find myself on calls with my friends, with my camera turned off or pointing at the ceiling, suddenly muting my mic holding a cut up piece of a straw in my teeth as i crushed shit up with my library card from a city i wasn’t planning on living in again. just having them talk while i was racking baby lines, tilting my head back and rubbing it on my gums after. i was sniffling all the time. sometimes my nose would bleed when i would wake up. and i wasn’t even really feeling much; i didn’t know at the time that this would be because of having adhd and just basically spending money on overpriced shit that was just like taking an adderall, but it was a drug in front of me, that gave me the idea or the false hope of running away from my life during the short lived high.

“before you know it, here i am again, fucking 6 o’clock in the morning, rolled up dollar bill in my hand.”

“what the fuck are you cutting this with, anyway?”

“how low can you go before you can’t turn around?”

i don’t think that when i was 14 and getting into against me! that i would ever actually get to a point of fully relating to those lyrics. of running away from such a huge part of yourself or your problems, trying to fill the void with drugs that you’d plow through so quickly, faster than you thought you would every time.

the thing is, was that at this point, i had already started my transition. i was already “passing.” but i never got to the root of it. sure, i’m trans, but who am i? and i didn’t know how to answer that question. so i just pushed it away, pushed it under the rug.

“you can pray all night and day, but you’ll still wake up the same person in the same fucking place.”

against me! has been there for me for ten years. throughout so many transformations of myself, so much shape shifting, so much dysphoria, so many late nights wishing i was a different person in a different place.

i found solace in their lyrics. it gave me some small bit of hope, some realization that i didn’t know that i needed; that trans people always have been and always will be here, that being able to be trans and be alive is possible, and that i don’t have to be digging my own grave, spending late nights staring at the mirror and seeing the girl who i used to be.

against me! gave me the courage to be alive.

#this is ok to rb. u can tag w drugs if u need to. #c.txt #wow after typing this it feels corny and long winded #also like it should be a journal entry. should it? maybe. do i feel like my fellow am! mutuals could relate in some way? yeah #hi if y’all are reading this #just been thinking about against me a lot lately #against me!

[dadsdisgustingdaughter]

daydreaming abt taking a bath + Dad forcing their way into the bathroom, pulling me out of the tub and raping me over the side of the tub while they shove my head underwater.

how tight will i feel when i’m running out of breath underwater?

how much harder does it make them while i’m struggling, pushing them away— trying with all the strength i have left to get my head above water?

will they fill my cunt with their cum? even though i’ve told them repeatedly that i can’t take birth control and i cannot risk getting pregnant— will they force their cum into my cunt?

#i am. feeling some type of way rn 😵‍💫 #i miss Dad’s cock inside me. ugh. #uhhhhhh also if staff sees this— this is definitely fantasy. absolutely 100% for sure. :-) #daughter.txt #forced breeding ♡ #r word #drowning ♡

[metriawaves]

don’t mind me, just casually immortalizing this literal 0.5 sec clip of nalu in the 18th opening where natsu is feral protective over lucy as always and it’s just incredibly hot/sexy af for no reason-

#fairy tail #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #nalu #natsu x lucy #is it a reference to gmg arc?? #but god HOT DAMN the 2nd frame got me FEELING THINGS #natsu wears the same exact outfit w/ multiple variations but this one is actually my top 1 #something about that collar and one-arm long sleeve got me feeling some type of way #and i thought this op couldn't get any hotter with mafia-like nalu in the first 2 secs #am i ever not thirsting about natsu lucy or nalu? no #mine #ramblings

[aroanthy]

i love how fraught and complicated discourse around various utena characters ‘dying’ is when anthy is literally stabbed to death eternally by a million swords imbued with human hatred. and then utena gets stabbed to death by them also. like. ‘death’ is incredibly interesting in rgu because most of the time it’s this ambiguous figurative thing that has interesting implications re: ohtori as a closed-off world one can escape. we are all trapped in our coffins. mamiya is the only named character with a grave. nemuro memorial hall functions as one all the same. ruka is implied to have died in the hospital— was he dead all along? who was the boy we saw for these two episodes? is this dead boy the same boy, or is this just another coincidence from the shadow girls, cutting like a knife? it’s heavily implied that akio and anthy murder kanae by poisoning her, adding to the previous implication that they were poisoning mr ohtori too, but there are no perceptible consequences of this. kanae’s absence is not felt. she’s fed an apple slice. what happens to the bodies? we know what happened to the 100 boys, but what about everyone else? and so on and so forth. ‘death’ is a tricky thing in utena, i think it’s constantly functioning on figurative and literal levels in very different ways for very different purposes. dios died. dios was dying. dios didn’t die. he grew up. etc etc

#what am i trying to say here? #idk! think about all of the pieces you have #dying is complicated in ohtori in countless different ways #and i find it boring to see so much ‘this character is dead and that’s it’ stuff #when death is used farrrrrrr more figuratively than some ppl give credit for #and i think the movie too does wonderful things with death #and what ‘dying’ really means #being disbelieved. being forgotten. being rejected. haunting despite this #much more interesting to think about wrt commentary on abusive relationships than it is #to think about what?? oh me when my brother died but plot twist he’s alive and can walk on this road all cool. like????? #akio doesn’t have the power to make himself revenant #he THINKS he does and he absolutely has power when he’s alive and he imbues that power with such meaning that it does live on after him #but ANTHY. anthy is the one struggling with herself and her feelings and the impact of trauma and abuse (that power!!) in aou #he’s dead? he died? she brought him back through her memories? or she’s left him (metaphorical death) and he’s haunting her?? #all such interesting interpretations #i haven’t mentioned touga bc i don’t have the energy today. if dead and just illusion of others memories then why active. why awful #like in aou akio is only Obviously scummy when he’s alive. his illusory self is based upon anthy’s love for him #if anime!touga is nothing more than nanami/whoever’s memories of him before he died……. why does he actively choose to suck again and again #like nanami wouldn’t do that. unless it was meant to be a subconscious thing like ooo he’s dead all along but that’s not what her arc is #it’s not ‘he’s been dead all along’ literally or figuratively. it’s ‘he’s unsafe and i don’t want him’ #sigh. once again i am asking people to think about nanami and touga’s dynamic through touga’s eyes #it’s so interesting to me how people forget to consider his motivations or feelings on ANYTHING #like sure his motivations and feelings are scummy but they’re interesting!!!!! they intrigue me!!!! #compel me even #anyway ignore how i said i didn’t have the energy for this and then typed it all out anyway #dais.txt

[httpiastri]

IM NOT SURE YOURE GOING TO HAVE SOFT THOUGHTS AFTER SEEING THESE….

Completely drenched and so am I 😩😩😩😩

ooooh bestie….. yet again i have written something in my sleep and then fallen asleep the moment i posted it 😩 i genuinely woke up, saw this ask and wondered what you meant by soft thoughts…….. went back to see my last post and suddenly it makes sense lol i almost almost remember writing that…

but i did write this also on an earlier post:

maybe i said that and then forgot about that side of him 😭 my mind was full of this:

but uh…. thank you for the pics 🫶🫶 very nice thing to wake up to in the morning!! we’ve discussed this before but like… the sweaty hair…. pulling my fingers through it….. and like i keep thinking about cupping his face in my hands and wiping away some sweat with my thumbs like u would with tears? and he’s just all smiley and giggley and his cheeks are so rosy and he’s so exhausted he can barely keep his eyes open, but at the same time there’s something so hot about it because you’ve seen him like that before in other settings and you’re sure it’s gonna happen in just a few hours again…..

#maybe wouldn’t exactly fit in the post-win&podium scenario but #soft and giggly sex with him >>>> #i would die actually #god now it’s 9am and im about to head into school and you’ve got me feeling like this 😩😩😩😩😩 #how am i supposed to survive this #also my dear….. i know you reblogged some other pics of him on the floor that kinda made me feel another type of way… #not just ‘awwww get him some water!!’ #more like ‘get *me* some water!!’ #if you happened to save some of those…. and you wanted to share them…… you know where to find me 😶😶 #asks! #lola lola lola! 💘

[nostalgia-tblr]

"are people not into that?" i ask, after posting my weird niche shit to the internet, despite knowing it to be weird niche shit.

#jsyk sylkius or anything adjacent to it does not “Do Numbers” in any way and i observed this some time ago #i assume that's the “rival ships” element at work but who knows really #that sort of thing is like femslash in that everyone approves of it but nobody actually reads or writes it #but who would have thought sylvie beating loki with a stick would not bring in droves of readers???! shocking twist there! #& i don't consider sifki a rarepair but my rarepair standards are VERY strict like if there's >5 fics a pairing is basically mainstream #chasing popularity would annoy me though & i just don't have the mental spoons to try writing stuff i wouldn't personally read #yeah i *could* put my blorbos to work in a coffee shop but what cost to my own enjoyment levels? AT WHAT COST FANGELA??? #you can't please everyone so you may as well just please yourself and if anyone else likes it you've found some fellow freaks so yay #i don't mean please yourself in a wanking sense. though feel free to do that too it probably counts as a cardio workout idk. #BUT ANYWAY #fic related #ps i am v glad there's the “warning: loki” tag because i think/hope it acts as a filter for 'he did nothing wrong in his life ever' types #who are Valid & etc obviously but i write my morally grey characters to be morally grey and the tag might help avoid conflict #though tbh i write almost every character to be morally grey in some way so i can't claim to have left my comfort zone here #(i'm not joking when i say the 1987-89 run of Dr Who shaped my entire future fannish life from a young and apparently v impressionable age)

[zootzar]

"WELCOME BACK. IT'S SURPRISING THAT YOU'RE STILL CONSCIOUS, NURSE."

@banana-zim & @mybrainisbigpoop more art made from brain maggots on your AU that I adore

#iitm #insane in the membrane #invader zim #zadr #zade #iz dib membrane #zim #dib membrane #gore #HHH I AM SO EXCITED FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER OF THIS FIC #I CANNOT EXPLAIN HOW THIS AU MAKES ME FEEL #JITTERY #IN A GOOD WAY #anyyyywayyysss heres some more scratchy ass pixel fanart to show banana and poop how much i love their work #i wish i could have those types of braincells !! #mine suck !!!! #anyways i hope you both enjoy it <333 #pixel gore #my art