#i feel raw

[nongnaos]

I'm rewatching The Old Guard and the scene with Joe and Nicky in the van, when Nicky is still.. dead? Joe starts calling him to wake up, but he talks to him in Italian and theres something so unmooring and tender about him using Nicky's first language to call him back so sweetly. Just eases him back into life in his most comfortable language.

#need to lie on the floor about it tbh #the old guard #joenicky #i feel raw

[libinih28]

Babel spoilers

I need everyone to know that "perhaps perhaps perhaps" is a song by Doris day about not knowing if someone loves you because they never said it, and the fact that rf kuang had the AUDACITY for Robin to think that after Ramy, makes me feel so

#shes unhinged #i feel raw #babel spoilers #babel rf kuang #babel or the necessity of violence #babel an arcane history #babel #rf kuang

[galaxythreads]

I was reminded again this morning why I chose to share my writing with a bunch of strangers on the internet rather than anyone I know.

#i feel raw #i do not want to write again #(well in comparison to your writing I just got a massive confidence boost) #thanks! #I'm going to go crawl into a hole now. when you choose to lower yourself to answering my texts again sis #please do not bring up this stupid book #me as person #vent

[everfaye]

i watched the third episode of tlou yesterday and then decided today would be a good day to finally pick up my copy of the song of achilles???????? as if it hasnt been less than 24 hours since my last heartbreak

#i am in agony #i had to take a break #watching some mindless violence to deal with the fact that my heart aches #the last of us #the song of achilles #rach post #i feel RAW #insert the jennifer coolidge 'the gays are trying to kill me' gif

[joycrispy]

Awhile ago @ouidamforeman made this post:

This shot through my brain like a chain of firecrackers, so, without derailing the original post, I have some THOUGHTS to add about why this concept is not only hilarious (because it is), but also...

It. It kind of fucks. Severely.

And in a delightfully Pratchett-y way, I'd dare to suggest.

I'll explain:

As inferred above, both Crowley AND Aziraphale have canonical Biblical counterparts. Not by name, no, but by function.

Crowley, of course, is the serpent of Eden.

(note on the serpent of Eden: In Genesis 3:1-15, at least, the serpent is not identified as anything other than a serpent, albeit one that can talk. Later, it will be variously interpreted as a traitorous agent of Hell, as a demon, as a guise of Satan himself, etc. In Good Omens --as a slinky ginger who walks funny)

Lesser known, at least so far as I can tell, is the flaming sword. It, too, appears in Genesis 3, in the very last line:

"So he drove out the man; and placed at the east of the garden of Eden Cherubims, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to keep the way of the tree of life." --Genesis 3:24, KJV

Thanks to translation ambiguity, there is some debate concerning the nature of the flaming sword --is it a divine weapon given unto one of the Cherubim (if so, why only one)? Or is it an independent entity, which takes the form of a sword (as other angelic beings take the form of wheels and such)? For our purposes, I don't think the distinction matters. The guard at the gate of Eden, whether an angel wielding the sword or an angel who IS the sword, is Aziraphale.

(note on the flaming sword: in some traditions --Eastern Orthodox, for example-- it is held that upon Christ's death and resurrection, the flaming sword gave up it's post and vanished from Eden for good. By these sensibilities, the removal of the sword signifies the redemption and salvation of man.

...Put a pin in that. We're coming back to it.)

So, we have our pair. The Serpent and the Sword, introduced at the beginning and the end (ha) of the very same chapter of Genesis.

But here's the important bit, the bit that's not immediately obvious, the bit that nonetheless encapsulates one of the central themes, if not THE central theme, of Good Omens:

The Sword was never intended to guard Eden while Adam and Eve were still in it.

Do you understand?

The Sword's function was never to protect them. It doesn't even appear until after they've already fallen. No... it was to usher Adam and Eve from the garden, and then keep them out. It was a threat. It was a punishment.

The flaming sword was given to be used against them.

So. Again. We have our pair. The Serpent and the Sword: the inception and the consequence of original sin, personified. They are the one-two punch that launches mankind from paradise, after Hell lures it to destruction and Heaven condemns it for being destroyed. Which is to say that despite being, supposedly, hereditary enemies on two different sides of a celestial cold war, they are actually unified by one purpose, one pivotal role to play in the Divine Plan: completely fucking humanity over.

That's how it's supposed to go. It is written.

...But, in Good Omens, they're not just the Serpent and the Sword.

They're Crowley and Aziraphale.

(author begins to go insane from emotion under the cut)

In Good Omens, humanity is handed it's salvation (pin!) scarcely half an hour after losing it. Instead of looming over God's empty garden, the sword protects a very sad, very scared and very pregnant girl. And no, not because a blameless martyr suffered and died for the privilege, either.

It was just that she'd had such a bad day. And there were vicious animals out there. And Aziraphale worried she would be cold.

...I need to impress upon you how much this is NOT just a matter of being careless with company property. With this one act of kindness, Aziraphale is undermining the whole entire POINT of the expulsion from Eden. God Herself confronts him about it, and he lies. To God.

And the Serpent--

(Crowley, that is, who wonders what's so bad about knowing the difference between good and evil anyway; who thinks that maybe he did a GOOD thing when he tempted Eve with the apple; who objects that God is over-reacting to a first offense; who knows what it is to fall but not what it is to be comforted after the fact...)

--just goes ahead and falls in love with him about it.

As for Crowley --I barely need to explain him, right? People have been making the 'didn't the serpent actually do us a solid?' argument for centuries. But if I'm going to quote one of them, it may as well be the one Neil Gaiman wrote ficlet about:

"If the account given in Genesis is really true, ought we not, after all, to thank this serpent? He was the first schoolmaster, the first advocate of learning, the first enemy of ignorance, the first to whisper in human ears the sacred word liberty, the creator of ambition, the author of modesty, of inquiry, of doubt, of investigation, of progress and of civilization." --Robert G. Ingersoll

The first to ask questions.

Even beyond flattering literary interpretation, we know that Crowley is, so often, discreetly running damage control on the machinations of Heaven and Hell. When he can get away with it. Occasionally, when he can't (1827).

And Aziraphale loves him for it, too. Loves him back.

And so this romance plays out over millennia, where they fall in love with each other but also the world, because of each other and because of the world. But it begins in Eden. Where, instead of acting as the first Earthly example of Divine/Diabolical collusion and callousness--

(other examples --the flood; the bet with Satan; the back channels; the exchange of Holy Water and Hellfire; and on and on...)

--they refuse. Without even necessarily knowing they're doing it, they just refuse. Refuse to trivialize human life, and refuse to hate each other.

To write a story about the Serpent and the Sword falling in love is to write a story about transgression.

Not just in the sense that they are a demon and an angel, and it's ~forbidden. That's part of it, yeah, but the greater part of it is that they are THIS demon and angel, in particular. From The Real Bible's Book of Genesis, in the chapter where man falls.

It's the sort of thing you write and laugh. And then you look at it. And you think. And then you frown, and you sit up a little straighter. And you think.

And then you keep writing.

And what emerges hits you like a goddamn truck.

(...A lot of Pratchett reads that way. I believe Gaiman when he says Pratchett would have been happy with the romance, by the way. I really really do).

It's a story about transgression, about love as transgression. They break the rules by loving each other, by loving creation, and by rejecting the hatred and hypocrisy that would have triangulated them as a unified blow against humanity, before humanity had even really got started. And yeah, hell, it's a queer romance too, just to really drive the point home (oh, that!!! THAT!!!)

...I could spend a long time wildly gesturing at this and never be satisfied. Instead of watching me do that (I'll spare you), please look at this gif:

I love this shot so much.

Look at Eve and Crowley moving, at the same time in the same direction, towards their respective wielders of the flaming sword. Adam reaches out and takes her hand; Aziraphale reaches out and covers him with a wing.

You know what a shot like that establishes? Likeness. Commonality. Kinship.

"Our side" was never just Crowley and Aziraphale. Crowley says as much at the end of season 1 ("--all of us against all of them."). From the beginning, "our side" was Crowley, Aziraphale, and every single human being. Lately that's around 8 billion, but once upon a time it was just two other people. Another couple. The primeval mother and father.

But Adam and Eve die, eventually. Humanity grows without them. It's Crowley and Aziraphale who remain, and who protect it. Who...oversee it's upbringing.

Godfathers. Sort of.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens 2 #crowley #aziraphale #good omens meta #I have no idea if I've made a coherent point here but I'm tired of this being in my drafts; RAW FEELINGS IT IS #it's about being sent to destroy and instead staying to love and protect and nurture I'M CRAZY I'M CRAZY RAAAAAAAGGHHHH #gnu terry pratchett

[areallydramaticbish]

I feel like my scariest, ugliest parts have been violently grabbed and pulled outside of my body, and now I'm desperately clawing at the bloody and sinewy mess, trying to put it back before I've upset it.

Hoping it won't wake up

#I feel raw #Exposure therapy is fun so far #Anxiety

[nikkinelson1313]

#curvy girls #curvy and cute #nude pose #nudity #mirror selfie #hot noods #i sell noods #egirl noods #daily noods #hot nude #newdity #i sell newds #spicy newds #newd #nekked #in the raw #feeling nude #naturalist #curvy body #thick vibes only #onlytease #curvy #girls with curves #inked and curvy #inked girls #tattoed girls #sexy tattoed women #tattoed babe #onlyf@nz #18+ only

[blackssuunn-mandoandyodito]

.

#i feel raw #like a wound that has re opened too many times and isn’t gonna stitch together that well anymore #the kind of raw that your eyes feel like after crying and then falling asleep #i hate it #delete later

[badasserywomen]

Taking lae'zels romance to the next level...worth it

#lae'zel romance just feels so raw and i love it #bae didnt hold back #baldurs gate 3 #threw my tav around like a ragdoll without a chance

[tshortik]

I love you messy artstyle i love you visible brush strokes I love you textures and rough edges I love you imperfections I love you roughness and colour blobs I love you scratchy sketches and bold stylisation and dirt and imperfections I love you ugly and raw emotion!!!!! ❤️

#i talk sometimes #art talk #i made a tweet like this on twatter ages ago but i've been feeling this a lot lately #also this is the start of me writing more on this blog and not only using it as art because who cares!! i don't!! #I wanna translate raw emotion into colors and shapes. I wanna know where to ignore all details and where to go ham you feel me? #i used to dream about developing a style like for MtG where it looked like a masterful oil painting that oozes realism and details #and i've realised the last two years or so that I would actually hate that for me. I know I wouldn't enjoy doing it. For myself. #it's that pipeline from wanting to be the perfect realistic wotc artist to accepting that I will never be that #instead i wanna learn how to stylise better and get a good brush economy going yknow. I wanna be bolder. #i doubt i'll ever be as incredible as all these MtG artists no matter what anyone says. but it's ok!! i don't have to be!!! #i just luv art man!!

[elbiotipo]

I can't do a more deep opinion on this orca thing because yeah one can say "go orcas!", it feels good, doesn't it?...

but in fact those must be very scattered cases that won't change the fact that the current situation is that ocean transport is noisy, it's everywhere, and it must be driving these very, very sensitive animals crazy. Before motors, a whale could listen to what was happening in South Africa from the Argentine coast. Now their range of communication must have dropped to only a few kilometers: moreover, all the noise must be insane. There have been studies saying that even things like lawnmowers can make permanent ear damage to small rodents, and birds have had to adapt to city noises (their songs changed to a more "natural" pattern during the pandemic lockdowns) So I can't imagine what such things must be doing to the minds of orcas, one of the animals with the most complex and intelligent behavior registered outside of primates, and extremely sensitive to sound. Can we even understand what they're going through right now.

And this is not to mention the widespread whale (baleen whales, not orcas) hunting that decimated their populations to an absurd degree. All the world is currently going through a beyond worrying trend of defaunation, but whales were particulary hurt. There were 250.000 (estimated) blue whales before whaling, and they were decimated to less than 2000. Even today, with strict conservation measures, there's around 10-25k blue whales, and that's one species. Let that sink in.

Is there a solution to this, besides returning to the age of sail and banning ocean explotation? I don't know, there might be. I hope there is.

When I read about orcas, about their behavior, about their pods with their own almost cultural quirks and even dialects, so much we don't know about them, I only remember Arthur C. Clarke, when he spoke about blue whales: “We do not know the true nature of the entities we are destroying”

#cosas mias #orcas #again to have a true opinion I need to research #these are just my raw feelings on the matter

[toomanywordsnllines]

Sometimes... the world can be a little too much.

#cod #call of duty #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty ghost #simon ghost riley #manysart #manyrambles #vent in the tags beware #drew a little ghost to see if it made me feel a little better and it did... maginarly... #I have been having the roughest month (roughest year reallly) of my life mental wise... #I feel so drained everything is too much everything is too little #it's like my brain is covered in static and not the good kind #I'm exausted mentally #my nerves feel rubbed raw #feels like I'm so close to snapping #I don't even know why I'm like this that's why it's so frustrating #now I'm gonna work on my assigment that does involve soap so that makes me a little happy #personal stuff yee haw

[andr0nap]

is it a bird? is it a plane? its interdimensional eldritch flying flora!

#trigun #trigun stampede #vash the stampede #angel vash #nicholas d. wolfwood #vashwood #andr0art #trying to mix trimax and tristamp designs #and creating the worlds most pathetic soggy chicken nugget #imagine touching raw chicken thats what he feels like #fleshy and humid to the touch #pray for my man nico #not pictured: the plant markings bc i think id die

[yeyinde]

Outlaw!Price, the enigmatic leader of the notorious and deadly 141 gang, who stumbles upon you one evening near the stables (attempting to steal the mare he had his eyes on, no less) as you try to sneak out of the city (and away from the awful, awful man you're supposed to be married to in the morning), and decides to help you get away.

But if you think it's altruism that's making him lend a helping hand to a stranger, you're wrong. In this life, he knows it's kill or be killed.

And most importantly:

finders keepers.

“How's this,” he begins, and everything inside of you screams to run. “I'll accompany you across the desert. Get you somewhere safe.” 

“Out of the goodness of your heart, I'm sure,” you sneer, edging backwards. “As if I'm dumb enough to believe that.”

“Can't leave a maiden—” your scathing hiss makes his lips twitch beneath the thick moustache; “—all on her own like that. I know these parts like the back of my hand. No harm will come to you. That, you have my word for.”

“And what's that worth?” 

He dips his chin. “Far more than you could imagine, love.” 

You swallow. “I don't know. I don't trust you—”

“Smart,” he nods, drops the cigar on the ground before snuffing the end out with the heel of his boot. “But I ain't very patient. Better make up your mind quickly.”

“Well, in that case—”

“But," he cuts your scoff off with a low hum. "I'll put it this way for you: do you want me to be the one to accompany you across the desert or the one they'll pay, handsomely, tomorrow morning to drag you back home, mm?”

“You scoundrel—! You dirty, rotten—”

“It's business, love.”

“I don't have any money to even pay you to—”

His eyes are searing when they catch on the threads of your lace collar, razing over exposed skin like he's owed the privilege. You've never seen such hunger on a man's face before.

Your skin prickles. Heart sinking low with each rasping sweep of his eyes across your body. It's as if you're meat. Something to be bartered with. Bargained.

The rasp in his voice makes you shiver. “You're a smart girl. I'm sure you can figure something out.”

“I—”

“I'll leave it to you, then, mm?” He starts forward, then, chin ducking low into his collar to stare down at you through the wide brim of his hat. Each thud of his boots echo against the floor in haunting harmony with the metal clink of his spurs. 

More of his bulk is revealed as he steps out from the shadows and into the pale moonlight, and somewhere in your chest, the air becomes trapped. 

He's huge. Bigger, now, where most of him blended in, almost seamlessly, into the shadows. A massive mountain of a man. 

His shoulders seem to stretch the fabric of his vest and waistcoat taut, pulling sharply on the straining threads. The heavy brown of his jacket sweeps down to midthigh, the seam tucked behind the leather holster of his gun tied tight at his waist. The brass buttons of his dress shirt crease against the pull of his broad chest and barrelled stomach. The softness around his midsection speaks almost highly of a luxurious lifestyle—pure hedonism. The sort ladies back home whisper about. Violence, women, and booze—ruffians, the lot of them! But it seems to belie the power in his gait. In the flex of his thick, corded thighs bunching in the tightness of his denim trousers and the leather caps covering them.

He has the walk of a bear. Lumbering, sloven. A touch clumsy. 

And yet—

The softness about him hides the raw strength under the thick pelt. Deadly. The slow, meandering trawl of a man who knows, unequivocally, that he needn’t run or rush anywhere. 

It lodges somewhere inside of you. This knowledge, this fact. He'll outpace you in spades. Catch up no matter where you flee to. 

Your stomach folds, looping over itself. It's nausea, maybe. And something else—

He's so big. Burly. Thickened like the strong trucks of ponderosa pine. A man cut from the wilderness; made in the likeness of the savagery of the wild. The brutality of the desert, of mother nature herself. Kin to the affinity this land seems to have in taking every ounce of a man and leaving him bereft in the face of the looming unknowns in the vast desert.

None of the men you've ever met before look like him. Grizzled. Hardened.

His scarred, tanned skin speaks of a life living outdoors. On a horse, on the run—hard work made with his bare hands. You think the softness, the callous-free palm that gripped your fingers tight in a vice, and can't help but to lean, just a little, into him. Drawn there, like a moth to a flame.

There's something about this man that makes you tremble. Something that curls inside of your guts. Something deeper, darker than fear. Primal. Animalistic. There must be something wrong with you, then. Most know to run from the predators—not move closer.

He comes to a halt less than an arm's length away from you, close enough that you can scent the heavy musk of him so thickly in your nose. Something purely masculine—loam, humus—and yet unfathomably different from the men you've known your whole life. Horse, and sweat. Sun. The headiness of riding nonstop through the sprawling deserts of New Mexico. Leather, and gunpowder. 

The novelty of it all is enough to make you dizzy. And, as if to reinforce it, he leans down, the brim of his hat narrowly missing your forehead, and he rasps, guttural and dark, 

“and I do expect to be paid back in full, love,” his voice is felled timber. Low, and firm. “Or you'll find you don't like the consequences very much. Am I clear?”

The unmistakable iron in it snags on the tendrils of your resolve, pulling messily at the threads. No escape. It winds tighter, tighter— 

Still. 

Your only other option is to stay here, and in the morning, marry a man who made it abundantly clear that the sole use he has for you is to rebrand a dwindling legacy (women ought to be seen, not heard, darlin’, and I think it's high time someone teach you that); or— 

Make off on your own. Through the unmapped, untamed wilderness of New Mexico with nothing for protection except whatever you could reasonably steal away with uninterrupted, which. Isn't much. Not only that—this man, this outlaw, had made it abundantly clear that there would be a bounty on you come sunrise. One he'd be most eager to fulfil. 

Rock, hard place. No escape. 

You steel yourself, grappling with trembling fingers against the dwindling options in front of you, and offer a slow, jerking nod. 

He heaves a breath in response. “Good choice, love.”

It doesn't feel very much like one. It doesn't feel very good at all, even. 

In this little stable just outside of town, you sell your soul to the devil in New Mexico while the cicadas in the background scream through the ink black night. The sounds they make seem to ask, 

what have you done?

#price x reader #outlaw price x reader #lil sneak peek under the cut because i feel bad for going mia forever #and!!!!!!!!!! burly husky outlaw!Price my beloved #he has a tummy and thick arms and ughhghghghghgh #listen #i'm not well #outlaw!price #this is so unpolished and raw but enjoy

[suntails]

dance of dreams

#THEYRE SPINNIIIING THEYRE TWIIIIIRLING JUST LIKE IM TWIRLIIIING MY HAAAAAIR blink blink blink blink. hi :3 #im not taking back the :3 its how i feel dammit. its REAL RAW EMOTION u gotta accept it. en ee wayz #so 7.3 eng drop huh. yea so um. i . so u remember how the initial drop made me go insano mode and i drew 5 pieces in 4 days? #so it wasnt done. the second drop gave me one more to draw. its the THEM chapters its mals rage when hes like 'YOURE AWAKE??' #the TENSION!!! the DRAMA!!!! oh i am SICK my heart SKIPS!!! the two guys with dream powers fighting ougughh made just for me #made in a LAB for miss cartoons!!!!!! made in a lab for ME!!!!! silver's eye is a lil bit open if u look close. mal will find out soon #IM SICK SICK SICK SICK AND TWISTED MY BRAIN IS RATTLING LIKE A JUNKER CAR U BOUGHT AT 16 FOR 400 BUCKS #twst #twisted wonderland #twst silver #malleus draconia #the overblot fit still sucks to draw but goddammit ill do what i must. also yippee i dont hafta tag spoilers for once FGHJD #suntails

[samijey]

Monday Night RAW(mance) 25/03/2024

#wwe #wweedit #drew mcintyre #cm punk #wwe raw #monday night raw #punkintyre #stuff i made #that was rude phil let him share his feelings smh