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dyketubbo · 8 months

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as i like get adjusted to college and figure out where i stand in life esp in regards to my identity ive realized how much i dont particularly care for like.. finding love. finding a "better family". even sometimes the idea that i have to find or consider people ive recently met friends isnt something that really excites me. but when i think about the word community, thats what rings true to me. i dont want love of Any kind. i dont want a better family. friends are a difficult subject to breach and not always clear to me. when people, especially queer people, talk as if finding your people and coming into your identity is about finding love, finding true family, whatever, it often just feels.. weird. especially when its worded like "you WILL find these things. this IS what the community is. the True Experience. what its About."

but what Is nice is thinking that some day, ill at least (and honestly at most for me) have a community. people who may not be lovers, family, friends, but people i belong with nonetheless. people i can rely on when it gets rough even if we arent "Close". i dont need a family, or a lover, and maybe not even friends, but i Want a community. i want people who can and will support me. i want to belong. i want to be heard. it doesnt need to be love. id actually really prefer if no one called it that. it just needs to be there, and ill be happy

#mask mews #personal #but ok to rb #loveless aro #aplatonic #aroace #loveless #etc etc. basically those tags are BIGGGG ol disclaimers #that i will fucking hate you if you go 'oh but i love my friends' 'this but i do have someone i love' yada yada go fuck yourself #not a post for you. make your own like how i had to make my own

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hairtusk · 2 years

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Do you think pain plays a big part of who we are?

In his introduction to The Diary of Frida Kahlo, Carlos Fuentes writes the following:

'Is pain something you cannot share?

Even more, is pain something that can be said at all?

It is undescribable, writes Virginia Woolf. You can know the thoughts of Hamlet, but you cannot truly describe a headache. For pain destroys language.'

Here, he speaks of pain as being something entirely contained within oneself, to the point that even pain felt by many people cannot accurately be described or relayed from one person to the next. Pain is deeply individual, and yet it writes white. It is one of the few experiences in life that becomes unutterable, unshareable, even if it is communal.

I have a genetic tissue disorder called Hypermobile Ehlers Danlos Syndrome. I also experience chronic migraines. I have spent long stretches of time in the hospital, and still have many days were I find myself bed-bound. I have also experienced a life-threatening eating disorder and suicidal tendencies. This is to say: I am acquainted with pain, both mental and physical. My body has been in pain for as long as I have been aware of it.

I could describe many things I have experienced to you, from invasive medical examinations to seizures on my bathroom floor. I could tell you what it feels like to attempt to take your own life. These are things that would be considered, by most, "big parts" of my life. And yet, if I were asked to introduce myself to someone, to tell them about myself, these aren't the things I would reach for. I could describe the way I love to sing when I cook meals for myself. That I've read hundreds of books. That I like to surf and go wild swimming. That I can professionally handle birds of prey. That I'm deeply in love. These things, to me, are the "big parts" of who I am: at least in a way that is perceivable by others. Pain is a private thing; it does not make up the way that others perceive me, because they cannot understand my pain in a way that matters, or accurately reflects who I am.

The Self, to me, is made up of what we share with others, and what we hold close to our chest. Pain impacts my Self, because it shapes my actions and my decisions, the way I react to and perceive the world. However, it is not Who I Am, if that distinction holds any weight. I am A Person In Pain, but pain is not a part of my personhood.

The following is taken from Susan Sontag's essay Illness As Metaphor:

To accept pain as part of oneself, of one's Self, is to think that being in pain is a kind of moral judgement, a punishment. This, at least in my opinion, cannot be let to stand. Pain is morally neutral. It is a force enacted on a Self, rather than a defining characteristic that one can communicate to oneself and others.

In short: pain in many ways feels as though it takes up a big part of the self, because it is so individual and so private. How can this not be a part of who I am if I am the only one experiencing it? But pain is just that: an experience. It is something that exerts itself on one's Self, rather than being a defining characteristic of it. So, while pain plays a big part in how I experience the world and how I react to it, move through it, it is not a big part of "who I am."

#anyway pain is not a component of the self but a force enacted upon the self yada yada yada #I'm sorry this took a while. I wanted to take my time in thinking this through #thank you for such a thoughtful prompt anon #also it's 1am and this isn't as nuanced as I would have liked it to be #but ironically I'm in too much pain to go and take a proper look at my various collections of essays #these were just off the top of my head #okay to rb!

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twipsai · 2 years

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do you ever draw something for someone/with someone in mind and they arent as excited about it as you hoped :/

#dont even look at me i hate this feeling #dont like/dont rb yada yada #but yeah i hate that i feel like that because i should be drawing for myself but yk. wish that they were more excited yknow ??

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sagesolsticewrites · 3 months

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religion's in your lips, the altar is my hips

in which Steve takes care of you after a bad day

- including but not limited to: praise kink, hair pulling, oral (f receiving), Steve lowkey being a service dom 👀

(this is. very self-indulgent. very veryyyyyy self-indulgent. you have been warned <3)

a/n: huuuge shoutout to @upsidedownwithsteve's (aka Emmy, Queen of Smutty Sunday <3) most recent smutty Sunday event for giving me inspiration to write my very first smutty fic! Obligatory disclaimer that yes, this is my very first smut fic ever, I am an ✨asexual virgin✨ please manage expectations accordingly, yada yada yada. Also so many hugs to my bestie Kenz @fangirl-imagines for looking this over before I posted it ☺️ Kenzie has some incredible fics, go support her y'all!

Word count: 2870

Warnings: THIS IS SMUT. MINORS BEGONE. 🔞

Please like/rb if you enjoyed! 🤍

You let yourself into your apartment with a sigh, shoulders relaxing the tiniest bit as you step over the threshold into your home and finally toe off your heels.

Bypassing the darkened kitchen and empty living room, you open the door to your bedroom, where you knew you’d find a shirtless Steve in the middle of his post-work ritual of playing some game on his computer.

He looks up as you enter, face brightening with a smile as he greets you.

“Hey baby, how was—”

In lieu of an answer, you flop face first onto the bed with a groan.

You can hear the smile fade from his voice as he hisses sympathetically, “That bad, huh?”

You lift your chin so it’s propped up on the pillow as you explain your terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day.

“You know that project that Marie was working on? She asked me for help on it, and I gave her some pointers, but she said she still wasn’t really understanding it so I ended up having to do all of it for her. And she’ll probably take all the credit for it, too.” You grumble, rolling your eyes, “And we had that meeting with our new clients, and my boss basically volun-told me to take notes for it, even though that’s really the liason’s job, and then she criticized me for not taking as detailed notes as Lauren even though that’s literally Lauren’s job! And she was there, she could’ve taken the notes, I don’t even—”

You shake your head in exasperation, shifting topics, “And then I didn’t even have time for lunch because Sara wanted me to help train the interns, and…” You end your rant with a groan, letting your face drop back into the pillow. “‘M just. So tired.”

“Sweetheart…” Steve’s voice turns soft as the pillow underneath your head, and he gets up from his spot at the desk to climb onto the bed, pulling you into his arms.

You curl into him instinctively, your head finding that space in the crook of his neck that feels like it was made for you personally, one hand coming up to toy with the curls at the nape of his neck, tracing patterns along the freckles and moles dotted along his skin.

“What can I do to help, honey?” Your boyfriend asks, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Jus’ wanna… I dunno, just. Stop.” You mumble against his shoulder, shrugging and curling further into him.

He hums in understanding, grabbing the hand that’s currently drawing invisible hearts around the moles near his collarbone and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

“You’ve been doing so much for everyone today,” he murmurs, voice layered with understanding and adoration as he leans in and peppers tiny kisses over your forehead, your nose, your eyelids, and you relax even more as his voice washes over you, “Worked so hard.”

He pulls you closer, scattering kisses all over as you finally release all the tension you’ve been holding, letting out a sigh and shifting in his arms to face him. You don’t realize you’re straddling him until you’re pressed nearly flush against him, his arms wrapped securely around your waist.

His lips brush over every part of your face, down to your neck and then back up as you become putty in his hands, murmuring soft words of praise to you the whole time.

“You just need to stop working now, huh? Need to stop thinking,” His lips draw a path to your ear, where he whispers, “need to let someone else do all the work, huh, baby?”

A shiver runs down your spine, constantly in awe of the power just his voice has over you. His hand settles on your hip, a comforting, grounding weight while his other hand brushes a strand of hair back from your forehead. His lips work their way back down over your cheek, stopping to hover just over yours, mouths brushing together as he murmurs in a voice like silk, “Is that what you want, honey? Want me to take care of you?”

Warm chocolate eyes meet yours, soft, caring, always ensuring he has your consent before he does anything.

At your near-imperceptible nod, he drags his hand up to cup your chin, thumb dragging along your bottom lip.

“Need your words, pretty girl.”

“Yes,” you breathe, and that’s all the confirmation he needs to surge up and capture your lips with his.

As you brace yourself on his shoulders, his hands move to the thin strip of exposed skin where your shirt has ridden up. Your kisses become hungrier, ignoring your need for oxygen in favor of Steve’s plush, kiss-swollen lips, and he slowly drags up the hem of your shirt, breaking the kiss briefly to get your permission.

At your eager nod, your shirt is off and tossed to some corner of the room, his mouth eagerly on yours once more.

You can feel exactly how much he’s enjoying this through his sweats, and you instinctively begin to rock in his lap, dragging your increasingly damp core over his.

His hands grip your hips, the familiar feeling sending a thrill through you… but rather than guiding your movements like he normally would, he holds them still.

You pull away, brow furrowed, but before you can voice your confusion, he flips you onto your back, moving to hover over you in one smooth movement.

“I told you,” he murmurs against your lips in a tone that sends a pulse of scorching heat to your core, “I’m doing all the work, sweetheart.”

The whimper you let out is muffled by his lips on yours once more, his wandering hands and hungry kisses making short work of turning you into a moaning, gasping mess.

“Steve,” you whine out his name as his lips travel down to your neck, and you can feel his smile against the hollow of your throat before he returns to licking and sucking dark patches into your skin, the occasional use of his teeth making delicious shivers shoot up your spine.

“What is it, sweetheart?” He mumbles against your skin, trailing his lips along your collarbone. His eyes meet yours, a mischievous twinkle mixed with the searing heat in them turning you molten as he asks, “What do you need?”

Unable to find the words, your hand finds his hair instead — God, that hair — and begins pushing him down towards where you really want him.

“‘M gettin’ there, honey, I promise,” he grins, pausing your efforts to press a kiss to the valley between your breasts, “Lemme take my time and I promise it’ll be worth it, ok?”

He reaches up to toy with the strap of your bra— a simple nude thing you could get away with wearing under a white shirt at work— a questioning look in his eyes answered by a furious nod from you.

He makes short work of the clasp, and that really should not be as hot as it is, but— oh who are you kidding, even his breathing is insanely hot right now.

You throw your head back as he presses kisses all over your chest, mumbling against your skin the whole time about how pretty you are, just gorgeous sweetheart, God, I can’t believe I get to do this for you…

Your head goes deliciously fuzzy with the praise, and you can’t quite form words so all you can do when he takes your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it for good measure, is let out a keening “Ohhh” and instinctively tighten your grip on his hair.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Steve groans, the noise sending heat racing through your body, and you grin knowing you were the one to elicit it, “You sound fucking incredible.” He murmurs more praise as he turns his attention to your other nipple, giving it just as much attention and eliciting more gasps and moans and whines from you before he continues his journey south.

You lift your head and watch as Steve Harrington fucking beams when he reaches your stomach, your pouch poking out slightly more than you’d like over the waistband of your jeans.

He meets your eyes, his own swimming with sincerity as he begins to scatter kisses over your midsection.

“You”

Kiss

“Are”

Kiss

“Fucking”

Kiss

“Stunning”

Kiss

When it seems like he’s covered every single inch of your exposed skin in kisses, remaining stubbornly focused on your torso when what you really want is for him to be significantly lower, he meets your eyes as he plays with the waistband of your jeans, once again wordlessly asking your permission.

And once again, your furious nodding is all the consent he needs to peel your jeans off and toss them away.

“Sweetheart.” He breathes, wide eyes on where your jeans once were, “Honey. Baby. Are you trying to kill me?” He says in a strangled voice at the sight of your simple lacy panties in a deep, wine-purple color— a color Steve once drunkenly confessed was his favorite, though he told anyone who asked he preferred red.

You bite your lip in an attempt to contain your grin, “I thought you might like those.”

“Like them?” He murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss to your inner thigh, looking up through lidded eyes to meet your gaze as his own darkens, “I never wanna see you in anything else again.”

Your toes curl, and your breaths become shallow in anticipation as he scatters slow kisses all along your inner thighs, carefully spreading them apart, stopping when he gets to the edge of the purple lace.

He holds your gaze, gauging your reaction as instead of pulling them down over your hips to toss to yet another corner of the room, he simply…

Pulls.

The lace.

To the side.

You barely have time to let out a quiet, shaky, “Oh my God,” at the ravenous look on Steve’s face before his mouth is on you and you forget how to think, you forget how to breathe, you forget everything except Steve.

Let it be known: Steve Harrington knew how to eat a girl out.

He licks a thick, fat stripe up your center, gathering the moisture collected there before darting up to flick at your clit, an action that has you gripping the sheets like a lifeline, a stuttering moan that sounds vaguely like your boyfriend’s name escaping from your lips. His arms hook around your thighs, pulling you close in an attempt to keep your hips grounded, and he continues a few more passes of the same lick, flick pattern until you’re a writhing mess underneath him, his current strategy both too much and not enough.

He pauses just long enough to meet your eyes, pressing a single kiss to your clit that sends a jolt of pleasure up your spine, before diving in.

His tongue finds your entrance with ease, the way his nose pushes through the thatch of wiry hair to nudge at your clit providing extra stimulation as he makes short work of making you fall apart. His tongue swirls through your folds as he lets out a languid moan at your taste.

“So fuckin’ good for me, sweetheart.” He mumbles against your core, “So perfect, lettin’ me take care of you. This is all you needed, huh?” His eyes flick up to meet yours as you shudder and moan underneath him, struggling to keep your eyes on him.

He licks another languid path through your folds, savoring your taste, before continuing, his voice muffled as he licks and sucks at your entrance “Jus’ needed me to give you a break, needed me to tell you it’s okay to turn off your brain and jus’—” Steve punctuates his last words by wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking gently “—be a good girl for me.”

The combination of stimulation to your clit and Steve’s words has your hips arching off the bed, despite your boyfriend’s best efforts to keep you still. You can feel him grin against you and let out a dark chuckle at the moan you let out at his last words in particular, the way your hand tightens and pulls at his hair all the evidence he needs.

Still, he asks you, though he doesn’t quite expect a coherent response.

“Aw, sweetheart. You like it when I call you a good girl? You like bein’ a good girl for me?” He purrs in a voice like syrup, lips still brushing your folds.

“Fuck, I— yes, Stevie,” you whine brokenly, gently gripping his hair in an attempt to bring him closer to where you want him, whimpering softly, “Stevie please.”

“I know, baby, I know,” he murmurs, scattering kisses frustratingly just outside your core, “Jus’ trust me, I gotcha.”

You resist the urge to move, to just grab him and put him where you want him, even as you let out a frustrated whine.

Just as your patience is about to run out, you feel him smirk against you before diving back in, holding your legs apart as he sloppily licks and sucks at your entrance, his tongue diving deep inside you.

You let out a gasping moan as he attacks your core, practically clawing at his hair in an attempt to pull him impossibly closer, your brain going fuzzy and then melting entirely when you hear the endless praise falling from his lips as he eats you out.

“So good for me sweetheart, just perfect— shit, do you have any idea how good you taste?” He groans against you, his thumb coming up to gently circle your clit as his other hand moves to splay flat over your hips, holding you as still as he can, “Could do this all fuckin’ day, god you’re amazing sweetheart—”

Then he clamps his lips around your clit and moans, and you’re fairly certain you’re going to die of pleasure, both your hands flying to grip his hair and yank as your back arches off the bed, your head falling back against the pillows, mouth open to let out a high, keening moan.

When you come back to your body, Steve is back to gently licking through your folds, and your hands claw at him, needing him to be closer.

“Steve,” you whine, “Stevie please, ‘m so close, I jus’— I need— please, baby.”

As your words turn into incoherent moans and pleas, Steve is quick to assure you, thumb returning to playing with your clit as he mumbles against you, “I know, honey, I know what you need and ‘m gonna give it to you, I promise. Been so good for me today, taken such good care of everyone, now it’s your turn, ‘m gonna make you feel so, so fuckin’ good, baby—”

He dives into you once more, thumb rhythmically circling your clit as his tongue hits every spot inside you in a pattern that has you turning to liquid underneath him, your legs hooking together behind his back to keep him right there, and your vision goes white as Steve brings you towards your release.

You let out a cry as you hit your climax, and Steve dutifully guides you through your orgasm, murmuring soft praises the whole time.

“Such a good girl for me,” he murmurs as he pulls away, mouth glistening and pupils dilated wide. Your hand cards through his soft brown waves, chest heaving as you catch your breath. Steve brushes gentle kisses to your inner thigh, your hipbone, your stomach, following a path up to capture your lips with his own, swallowing the contented sigh you let out.

He pulls away, meeting your gaze with a smile as he pecks your nose.

“Feelin’ better?”

You hum contentedly, “Much.” Your thumb comes up to stroke his cheek as you pointedly glance down, “What about you?”

Steve lets out a mock-annoyed groan, forehead coming down to rest on your shoulder.

“Baby, we just went over the whole thing about you not needing to take care of everyone.”

He lifts his head, meeting your gaze, “Seriously, though,” he presses a kiss to your cheek, rolling to lay next to you and pulling you into his chest, “I’m fine. This was about you, and I’m so glad I could help take care of you for once.”

You cup his cheek, turning his face to yours. You hope he can see every sincere, tender thought in your expression as you simply say, “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart. You know that.” He murmurs in response, lips quirking up into a small smile as he turns to press a quick kiss to your palm.

“So,” he says, fingers stroking through your hair, nudging your eyes closed, “nap time and then appetizer dinner? We’ve got mozzarella sticks and some chicken tenders I can throw in the oven.”

You grin, despite already being half-asleep, “That sounds perfect.”

You can feel his smile as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“I love you most.”

“I love you infinity.”

“I love you infinity plus one”

“I love you—”

“Alright, let’s call it a tie, babe.”

Tagging a couple friends! Hi besties @austin-butlers-gf @sassy-ahsoka-tano @dontbesussis

#steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things smut #my writing #sage writes

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gaydiation-poisoning · 3 months

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Alright gang time for a question, and I want you to think about it cus I feel like it's not as obvious as you might think.

(Please rb for a bigger sample size yada yada)

#craig cuttlefish #capn cuttlefish #dj octavio #octavio takowasa #cuttletavio #djvorce #old man yaoi

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iiudex · 5 months

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wow man this is a large number 😭 (pls help me afford an ipad i beg <3 more utc)

(also this is in no way urgent so there’s no desperate need to rb /gen but they are welcome & appreciated)

i have a solid $155 of this price (as of writing this, my mom should be paying me back tomorrow. so i’ll have around 190-200)—

but hey your commissions are vv appreciated! i’m looking to invest in an ipad (hence the price) ‘cause genuinely drawing on my phone is killing my wrists. i love art so very much but know i can’t keep doing it on my phone forever (it’s horrible for mouth my hands/joints, AND my phone. since it’s been on constantly for practically 15-17 hours a day everyday.); i would buy a refurbished one but i despise amazon + constantly overthink things like ‘woah what if this messes up shortly after buying!!’ yada yada & big purchases like these are like. once every 5-10 years for me. so i wanna make a choice that lasts

ANYWAYS. if you could commission me, i’d very appreciate that! :3 (i even lowered my prices again to make them more affordable for everyone! plus during december they’ll prob be even less bc discount!) || if not, reblogs are appreciated!!! ik this is probably like a “oh but this is such a silly thing to push out”— but i genuinely do love doing commissions for people, despite my posts sometimes SKSK. & i wanna be able to make even BETTER art for others by having more access to things like a larger screen, pen pressure, a program i’m used to, etc… so it’s v appreciated :’]

COMMISSIONS CARRD || HOLIDAY COMMISSIONS POST

current amount: 201/1028 (will be constantly updated)

#{{ i dont wanna tag this as comms but yeah this is a seperate comm (begging) post ig }}#{{ i need a place to tally my own progress & forcing everyone else to see it helps me save }}

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femininefreyanyctophile · 6 months

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because I am sick, I just had the best poll idea ever

Rb for bigger sample size Yada yada

#polls #tumblr polls #cough #coughing #sick

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twipsai · 8 months

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sorry for lumping alterna together, they just have so many bands with only a few songs for each one that it felt like i should. octoplush is separated on the grounds that its not a human band

also rb if u want for a larger sample size yada yada

EDIT: FUCKKKK I DIDNT REALIZE MISSING INK WASNT THE ONLY LOBBY BAND!!! thats my bad guys! pretend that missing ink is the group for all of the lobby bands!!!!

#splatoon #splatoon 3 #splatbands #c-side #front roe #missing ink #omega-3 #damp socks ft. off the hook #deep cut

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yaniasogames · 7 months

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yknow last rb annoyed me so i am dumping my music here as a trans girl who enjoys making vaporwave under random aliases. please like and rb if u enjoy yada yada yada you know the drill 💗

#🐻💖#vaporwave music #transfem artists #trans artist

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angelicspyder · 1 month

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hii :3

call me angel, oooo intro posts are so scary and i am trying my best

i am an angel dust fictive !! host yada yada yada things

basics:

19 (bodily too)

any pronouns (no she tho) transmasc nonbinary

autistic + disabled + DID system (traumagenic)

i needed a silly little place to ramble / rant / talk about source things

any sourcemates please interact!!!! any kind!!!! doubles especially!! (i ask very nicely)

blog will handle nsfw \ nsft topics sometimes + a few triggering topics below cut, so no minors please!

more info under cut <3 thank u for reading!

stuff about blog stuff.. ! ! !

few facts abt me: dance is one of my special interests, i like cosplay, kandi, monster high, n i collect LPS! trinkets! i am also aro/ace spec and mlm!

i like to rb a lot, fanart n stuff and pretty things! i made this blog bc the source memories have NOT left me alone LMFAOO so im like damn ok fine ill make one!! so id love for any sourcemates to interact at all.. . .. silly friends in my computer....

that being said though some rambles will have stuff thats triggering, involving: hypersexuality, abuse, s/a, probably anything that is manic related, so on. but it will all always be tagged for the proper thingy! (also some posts will be kink / nsfw / nsft talk but ill keep it down most of the time) (oopsies)

i will also specifically post a lot about either vox, husk, or val. source memories + i just love vox LMFAOO but will always tag as always!

there might also be a few vents but ill be sure to tag n all that stuff!! always feel free 2 ask me if u need me to tag something specific as well!

i think thats it..?? oo that was scary..... thank you for reading this far! take the trinket