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#theme: self
seasunandstar · 10 months
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[I.D. - I am out with lanterns looking for myself. - Emily Dickinson End I.D.]
I see this quoted all the time and went digging; it's not from a poem, but a self-deprecating joke from a letter she wrote in 1856, describing her recent move.
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[I.D. -
I cannot tell you how we moved. I had rather not remember. I believe my "effects" were brought in a bandbox, and the "deathless me," on foot, not many moments after. I took at the time a memorandum of my several senses, and also of my hat and coat, and my best shoes - but it was lost in the mêlée, and I am out with lanterns, looking for myself. 
Such wits as I reserved, are so badly shattered that repair is useless - and still I can't help laughing at my own catastrophe. I supposed we were going to make a "transit," as heavenly bodies did - but we came budget by budget, as our fellows do, till we fulfilled the pantomime contained in the word "moved." It is a kind of gone-to-Kansas feeling, and if I sat in a long wagon, with my family tied behind, I should suppose without doubt I was a party of emigrants! 
They say that "home is where the heart is." I think it is where the house is, and the adjacent buildings. 
End I.D.]
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webweavisms · 10 months
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“goodbye, my danish sweetheart”, mitski // “the fire never goes out”, n.d. stevenson // “a burning hill”, mitski // “hunger is the most important thing”, miguel hernández // “this is what makes us girls”, kuviraapologist // “the fire never goes out”, n.d. stevenson
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quottakes · 1 year
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Wolf in White Van by John Darnielle
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theoldkyokodied · 8 months
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If you follow my main you had to know this was coming… anyway. Enjoy these bloodweave doodles :)
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scribbles-ink · 19 days
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quick doodle
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lucidloving · 6 months
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Michael Ondaatje, The English Patient // Waving Through a Window—Ben Platt & Original Broadway Cast of Dear Evan Hansen // Haruki Murakami, Sputnik Sweetheart // @iimememe on Twitter // Alice Oseman, Radio Silence // Marie Howe, "The Landing"
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 14 days
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Assisting Acquaintance Acquired.
[First] Prev <–-> Next
#poorly drawn mdzs#mdzs#wen ning#wei wuxian#Ignore how Wen Ning's hair looks here because I messed it up. Let's pretend he just sported a different hair style for a brief moment.#I am not exactly great at consistency but I am trying very hard to work on that (immediately messes up again).#Absolutely *love* how Wen Ning clearly remembers and admires WWX...who does *not* recognize him.#This is the best day for Wen Ning and it means *nothing* to WWX. A painful one-sided crush made worse.#It is bittersweet to realize that we care about someone more than they care about us. Sometime we pour love into a relationship-#-with someone who just can't reciprocate. It isn't always a conscious things either. Some people just aren't aware we care.#And painfully - so painfully - You can't make them aware. No act of kindness or gift or self sacrifice will make someone care about you.#You can martyr yourself for someone and they will continue on unchanged.#I think a lot about the parallels between WN and LWJ. Not foils - just reflections. A theme repeated.#People who give so much of themselves to someone who doesn't have the capacity to give any part of themself away.#I will die on the hill of 'Wen Ning would be the love triangle romance if that trope wasn't being avoided'.#And to be honest - thank the stars above that is the case. I do not know any good love triangles in media.#We are skipping some of the sad Jiang Cheng content because I really want to finish season 2 before May.#Sorry JC emo moment lovers...I'll deliver another time.
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Can you make something for a yandere masochist? Smut please
A/N: Working on all the reqs in my inbox, I just don't have much time to write! No pressure but donations always help if yall want your requests written faster!
CW: Noncon/Dubcon, yandere themes, kidnapping, threats, Sub! Masochistic yandere, aggressive-ish reader, NSFW
Synopsis: You find yourself kidnapped by your shy boyfriend who claims he's going to "take care of you."
Word Count: 3000 -- Tags ^^: @moonlight-melanin
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If someone had told you that your meek nerd of a boyfriend would be the one to ever kidnap you, you probably would have laughed in their face. Your boyfriend who trips over every sidewalk crack? Your boyfriend who needs your help opening a water bottle? Your boyfriend, who begs for you to wrap your hand around his neck and worships the ground you walk on, no matter how hard you protest?
 No way in hell. 
Except, the utter blasphemy that was such an idea, was true. It was only a few nights ago that you found yourself bound by your hands and feet to a familiar bed. Your boyfriend, Rex, vaguely explained that he was "protecting you", and "keeping you away from bad people!” 
You came to the conclusion that the harm that he was supposedly protecting you from, was most likely your overly friendly coworkers and demanding job. Who knew a 9 to 5 could be so dangerous? Clearly your boyfriend. However, his ridiculous behavior didn’t falter no matter how many times you tried to convince him, no matter how many threats or bribes you threw his way. 
Sometimes he’d be nearly swayed, but something in his mind always snapped back, telling you that its alright if you despise him, if you follow out with your threats; as long, as he got to keep you safe. 
For how obedient and eager to please he was, you never realized how stubborn he could be. But unfortunately for what he had in stubbornness, he lacked in wit and authority. He always fell into your hands when it came to you offering physical affection as a secretive ploy to try and escape; not to mention, he wasn’t very good at keeping his hostages tied up.
By the third night of your capture, you managed to slip your moist hands out of the loose, steel handcuffs. Digging an old pen into the large hole of the chain cuff wrapped around your ankle, you wiggled it around to find that sweet spot that would release you. You were grateful for being able to reach the bedside drawer, finding a multitude of tools within it that helped you including the pen that was once yours, and some lotion that made your palms slick enough to slip out of the handcuffs. While you were grateful for their presence nearby, you didn’t want to know why they were close to the bed in the first place. 
You continued to roughly wiggle the pen, not hearing any clicks or cracks within the lock that would signify your release. The chain around your ankle wouldn't budge at all. At some point along the way with all your jamming of it into the lock’s hole, the pen got stuck. 
“No no no,” You whispered, trying to tug the pen out. You pulled as hard as you could, to no avail as ink began to stain your fingers. 
Well, your kidnapper would certainly notice that. 
You looked around, feeling incredibly anxious now that you were only halfway free, aware that it'd be unlikely that you got to keep this little escape trial to yourself. Though, the freedom of your hands made you feel more powerful than you had in days.
But the quick and excited footsteps outside of the bedroom door made your stomach sink. They drew closer, only stopping to fill the silence with a rapid knock to the door. Beads of sweat rolled down your neck as your dry mouth swallowed; with shaking fingers, you covered up your hands and feet under the bed comforter. 
‘Just keep them under the blanket, and he won’t notice…’
The door opened shortly after the knock, not waiting for you to respond. In came your Rex, your boyfriend-slash-kidnapper. He clammed up with a tenseness as you scowled. You brought back your signature glare that you looked at him with during the days of your capture; he seemed to shrink into himself as you didn't break eye contact. 
"Did… you like dinner? He asked, looking at your plate on the bedside table. Eyeing the plate with a frown, Rex shut the door behind him. He walked closer to your place on the bed, inspecting the plate. 
"You've hardly eaten anything since…"
"Since you kidnapped me?"
He went silent. Avoiding your judgemental stare.
"You know I'm just trying to keep you safe…" He said meekly, not fond of your cold behavior. 
"I don't want to talk, Rex. Just leave." You snarl.
 Folding your arms you turn away and focus your attention on the setting sun outside the window, reminding you that once again you'll be here for another night… another day here when you wake up. 
Rex sits down on the bed next to you, his mop of curly black hair covering his desperate face. He wouldn't be able to take it if you played the silent treatment with him-- even when you were angry like this, he'd rather suffer your wrath than hear the empty silence of his endless thoughts, keeping your sweet lips shut so tightly. 
"Please," he gripped the blankets atop your legs, trying to find a place to touch you. "I'm just doing what a boyfriend should do, don’t you get that? Why can't you understand me?"
You continued to stay silent, hearing Rex gulp as he realized you were serious in keeping your mouth shut. 
He began to grow antsy… there was a feeling of isolation in how he couldn't see all of your face as you kept your gaze to the window, how he couldn't even hold your hand or see your body beneath the mass of blanket. 
"Come on, don’t be like that…” 
Rex rolled his tongue over his teeth, gripping harder onto the sheets. His hand shakes as it reaches for yours, desperately hoping you wouldn’t tug away. 
Once he feels your arm go limp, he wastes no time in bringing it up to his cheek, hoping to feel some sort of warmth from you. Rex presses his cheek into your fingers, finding a sliver of relief in how warm and tender you feel against him. He’s hardly had the luxury of such affection since you were huddled up in his apartment. 
You don’t dare to look at the man, debating whether interrupting him or continuing to let him nuzzle would alert him faster on the fact that your handcuffs were gone. 
You didn’t have much time to think when you suddenly felt him go still, a newfound grip on your hand. He squeezed with thick fingers, the lovelust gone from his touch.
You turn to look at Rex, finding that you could not see his eyes beneath his hair and shadowed glasses. He shifted from crushing your fingers to choking your wrist, panic setting into your body. 
Rex looked up, far more quiet than you were expecting. You began to twist your arm, trying to pull it away as he bore into you. You knew the guy was odd when you first started dating, and was clearly deranged after this kidnapping fiasco-- but you never saw it clearer until now. His eyes seemed to sink into his skin as his face drained of all color. He looked almost sick, like someone hungry to hurt without any remorse. Rex’s blunt nails dug into your skin as you started to tug away roughly; his hunched body was like a feral animal ready to strike. 
Seeing as he already found out about your escape attempt, you decided it wasn’t worth wasting this chance. Maybe you could knock him down a few before he managed to get you chained up again, giving you more time before he did who knows what. 
“These arms are awfully bare.” His monotonous voice uttered. 
Rex pressed on the bruises on your wrist of where the handcuffs dug into, his eyes glazing over as you grunted in pain. Still, you fought. You brought your other arm to try and pull off his fingers, only for Rex to shift on the bed and force himself upon you. His sharp knees dug into the sides of your thighs, pulling your other arm off of him as he laid them both beside your head, against the pillows. For being quite frail and shy, he had far more strength in his desperation than you expected. You could see that he was giving his all, only tearing up momentarily when your fingers scratch him or your elbow rams into his nose. 
Within the tussle Rex managed to find the handcuffs, of which you only hid underneath the blankets beside you. Every time you tried to heighten your knees to push him off, Rex pressed deeper, bruising your skin and making you bite your lip in frustration and pain. His loose clothes and your mess of blankets made it hard to find a grip in pushing him off.
Rex pulled the cuffs up, shakily and forcefully wrapping them upon your wrists. Pulling them over the bedpost, he watched as you struggled to get out of them. But he didn’t look down at you with a smirk or a sadistic grin-- Instead, it appeared to be relief. 
Your boyfriend lowered himself to your chest as he went limp, his previous expression void of emotion except for stunned shock, shifted to a tired, nervous frown. 
“I-I don’t do this because I want to, you know.” You burn holes into him with your glare, straining to pull the cuff chain over the bedpost as Rex sat on your torso. “You don’t give me a choice!”
His loose shirt showed the front of his collarbones and the elongated muscles in his neck, the male gulping as he looked guiltily down at your chest. You were sweating from the fear and strain against the tightened metal binds. 
“Fuck off.” You grunt, continuing to tug and pull away from your tethers. 
Rex seemed to get antsy at watching you try to struggle and claw at him. His hips twitched as he moved to sit on your legs, trying to keep you from kicking him off. 
“But…If you keep pulling like that, your bruises will only get worse.” 
“I don’t give a shit.” You snapped, hardly letting him finish. Spitting towards him you continued to fight; that only seemed to spur Rex on. 
He wiggled against your hips, looking down away from you in embarrassment. the male beginning to hold your knees down, his legs wrapped around your left thigh. 
“I’m just trying to do what’s best for us…” He huffed, laying his head down on your chest, and holding onto you. 
“Rex!” You shout angrily at his innaction, trying to knee him as you pushed away from the headboard. 
“I know, I know!” You could feel the hardness inbetween his legs press against your thigh. “You can hate me if you want, can hurt me if it makes you feel better,” He meekly bit his lip with a little grunt, hesitating for a moment before he pushed his hips against your thigh. “But I can’t let you leave.”
Seeing as your struggle didn’t impede his movements, Rex slowly rocked himself against you to apply pressure. He relished in how your knee came up to grace his crotch in a stinging pleasure. You may have done it in an attempt to push him off, but all it managed to do was further Rex’s desire for your brashness, and you.
“I’m yours…” He huffed, pushing his face into the warmth of your chest. His crotch aligned with your hip, adding a new sensation as he humped like a touch-starved, horny animal. “Im yours, I’m yours I’m yours I’m yours I’m--ngh--” 
 Rex bit the collar of your shirt to stop from crying out, his moan muffled into your body as he rocked at a rhythm. In a mix of huffs he lifted his head to search for your eyes and lips. He reached up to collide his lips with yours, pressing his knee between your legs, spreading them just gently. His hands traveled down your chest slowly, hesitantly. He was always waiting for your next move, always soaking in every touch and taste of you that he could. 
You pushed against his lips, turning and ripping your mouth away. 
“I know you want to leave, but maybe I can change your mind,” He looked at you with lovestruck eyes, a growing pleasure within them. “Maybe make you feel good. I’m atleast good at that, right?” He shyly palmed at your crotch, determined and eager to make you cry out in the same desire he was swelling in. 
He just wanted your eyes to be on him. 
Rex continued to grind himself deeper into your upper thigh, wrapping his legs around your side. He released a little pant while traveling cold fingers down your chest, pulling up your shirt to expose your stomach. Reaching between your legs, he licked his lips in anticipation, cupping your sex with his hand ever so gently. 
Shutting his lips he tried to suppress his evident moans, pushing his lips against yours as he begged for an ounce of affection. You in turn, bit his bottom lip in retaliation, pressing up against to get a good clench on his mouth. You hoped it’d be enough to get him off of you, but instead Rex pressed harder, grunting in pained pleasure as he welcomed the ache. The taste of blood was left in your mouth, Rex still leaving sloppy kisses along your nipping lips, drooling as he pushed his slick tongue in your mouth, rubbing it against yours. His glasses seemed to shift downward, making him look even more of a mess.
Even as you pulled at his hair from your restraint position, Rex let out a surprised yelping groan, humping harder into your leg at the newfound pain. 
“Please, I promise to be good…” He begs between wet, one-sided kisses. “ I’ll do whatever you w…want…!” Rex hieghtened his voice with a desperate groan, showing he was close to his climax. 
His frenzied pleas showed the familiar side of the boyfriend you remembered before he kidnapped you: quiet, clingy, and too infatuated for his own good.
You could feel a wet spot of leaked pre-cum on your thigh, Rex’s hand delving under your now unbuttoned pants. 
He was quick to palm your crotch from beneath your underwear, gripping and massaging as he chased his own high, fixated on your scrunched up expression. 
His slightly open mouth drooled against your shirt as he looked up at you, desperate for you to reciprocate some kind of affection or attention. 
Rex’s expression showed he was completely enamored in the moment, with glazed over eyes and a eagerness in his thrusts as his mind solely focused on the pleasure between his weak thighs and getting something-- anything, from you. 
“You’re disgusting.” You say bitterly, grabbing Rex’s hair in another attempt to get him off of you and ruin his high. However, that did neither. 
Rex looked even more turned on, letting out painful moans at feeling you tug multiple times.
“Yes.. hah, please-- use me, do what you want--” You bit down on his shoulder as he pressed the rest of his weight down on you, leaning up to the feeling of your fingers tug. “I love you, ‘love you so much..” 
You demand him to look at you with a tug of his black curls, a small line of blood staining your lips from the hard bite you gave. 
Rex obeyed with pleasure-drunken fervor, drawing the end of his high as he witnessed his blood in your mouth. 
A part of him would always be inside you.
Rex buried his head into your neck as he orgasmed, thrusting hard up against your leg like a rabbit during mating season. Letting out a continuation of unabashed moans, his teeth bit your T-shirt as cum spilled from his release. 
In the moment, Rex had sped up his movements in pleasuring you, digging beneath your underwear to feel the heat of your sex against his hand, leaving you quite dazed yourself, You managed to hid your reaction quite well as Rex was too focused to notice, but now that seemed to shift as he began to relax. 
Rex’s pulsing touch on your crotch slowled as his breathing regulated. Though it became more difficult for you to keep your mouth shut and your face straight as he repeatedly put his thumb against the right set of nerves. 
Your boyfriend’s breath steadied as he watched you release a hitched sigh from your mouth, enjoying the way you looked at him with a dazed glare. Covered in sweat and cum, he was beginning to come down from the high he ached to feel once again. 
“Oh…I’m sorry,” He panted, face flushed and glasses falling to the tip of his nose. “ Was s’pposed to be convincing you, but I got ahead of myself…”
Rex swallowed, adjusting his glasses with the tips of his finger. The male began to quickly fondle beneath your jeans once again, ignoring how you still pushed against the headboard and cried out in frustration. He was slow at first, trying to regain the rhythm; it didn’t take long for him to find that tempo that made your knees weak. 
You felt a numbed pleasure stir between your thighs against your will, trying to toss and turn to make it go away. 
But Rex held you still, planting his weight down on your chest and stroking your heat with skill. He had touched himself so many times to pictures and thoughts of you, but he never imagined this. Even as you scrunched up your face in frustration and annoyance, he saw your teeth scrape at your lip, your hips twitching and your groans drawing out longer than before. 
You desperately clawed at your restraints, avoiding Rex’s hot and heavy stare, of which was so entranced in watching your sweet face change every time a wave of pleasure overcame you. You felt so defeated in the fact that he could tell you were feeling the effects of his touch, how you weren’t completely focused on the idea of escape anymore. 
“M’gonna make you feel so good,” Rex grinned, hazed with the afterglow of his pleasureful release and soaking up the look of undesired arousal in your eyes. 
“Just promise not to give your pleasure, your pain, to anyone else…”
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somnimagus · 7 months
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My page for @kairizine. It was such a huge honor to be part of this wonderful book with everyone, I had so much fun!
[id in alt!]
#kingdom hearts#kh#kh kairi#kh xion#kh namine#i don't really feel proud of my own stuff usually but#i really think this is the drawing i'm most proud of from this past year!! it made me think 'oh maybe i can draw' haha#i'm still kinda bad with colors but something clicked with this one. and i feel like i got the sentimental feeling i wanted!#ooh but this project's about flower symbolism so ramble incoming:#protea symbolizes resilience transformation and diversity; hollyhock means 'please remember me.'#so my general theme was finding a sense of self.#these 3 have struggled with finding their own identity; they tend to get left behind both in-universe and in general plotwise#and naminé and xion both resemble kairi and were overshadowed by her memory. but i feel like all 3 have transformed into their own people#xion and naminé have their faces covered partially by hollyhock to show their wish to be remembered for who they are-#instead of the parts that they share with someone else#and the protea bouquets show how they each held on and resiliently grew into their own person despite it all#i put a little swervy path on the hill behind kairi to give that hopeful sense of growth and moving forward. it's a little hard to see#hopefully that makes sense! i really love symbolism but i think in visuals so i'm really bad with words#but gosh working with everyone on this project was so fun. it was like impossible not to get swept up by the team's hype for this zine#i need to hunt down everybody's work and rb it#ohh and everybody's flowers are so crisply drawn it's insane!! i think if i lined all these flowers and leaves i'd die haha#fan art#my art#project stuff
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brother-emperors · 10 months
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DO NOT BE AFRAID
this is combining Ovid's Heroides and the Excidium Troie because I can't stop thinking of Hermes telling him not to be afraid. what the fuck!! Ares is wearing the crown that Paris gave him.
I have. thoughts. about Paris. he's almost got this Troilos parallel in my mind, that the event that defines him in detail exists in a lost narrative that we don't have (the Cypria), but everyone else knew. the event that defines Troilos is his death (murdered, butchered by Achilles, the violence of which haunts everything after. Achilles, child killer, you can't escape that!), and the event that defines Paris is the Judgement. what's a lost text but a kind of grave!!
idk I don't think that Paris before the Judgement would recognize himself after bc when you become god touched, it rearranges your guts. you become transformed in the worst way possible! how could you recognize yourself! but I also think that all the Parises after the Judgement would recognize each other because that event is so locked into the trauma of war and the scar it leaves on the land, it's like a scar on the narrative too. it exists like this forever, over and over again, so you exist like that forever too. Troy collects grief and despairs.
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Troy as trauma: Reflections on intergenerational transmission and the locus of trauma, Andromache Karanika
and Paris is like. a miserable little god/corpse-puppet or something, like a match for the gods to throw onto gasoline.
The Excidium Troie + Ovid's Heroides:
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Excidium Troie, trans. Muhammad Syarif Fadhlurrahman
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Ovid, Heroides 16 (trans. Harold Isbell)
a collection of things regarding Paris that made me go 😬 but under a cut bc this is getting. very long.
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The Divine Twins in Early Greek Poetry, Corolla Torontonensis
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Iliad 24 and the Judgement of Paris, C.J. Mackie
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Elegy and Epic and the Recognition of Paris: Ovid "Heroides" 16, Elizabeth Forbis Mazurek
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Ennian Influence in "Heroides" 16 and 17, Howard Jacobson
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Paris/Alexandros in the "Iliad", I. J. F. de Jong
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seasunandstar · 4 months
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Keeping Things Whole
In a field I am the absence of field. This is always the case. Wherever I am I am what is missing.
When I walk I part the air and always the air moves in to fill the spaces where my body's been.
We all have reasons for moving. I move to keep things whole.
-- Mark Strand
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alkalinefrog · 2 years
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"I wish I could offer you a King who is greater than I am. I can't turn into someone else; I can only be me. But I have discovered that I too am stronger than I thought I was."
I love both iterations of this kind boy and his dragon.
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quottakes · 2 years
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One Hand To Hold, One Hand To Carve, M. Shaw
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asoftepiloguemylove · 10 months
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Natalie Wee NEVER BEEN KISSED / pinterest / 밤의 해변에서 혼자 On the Beach at Night Alone (2017) dir. 홍상수 Hong Sang-soo / Evelyn Waugh Brideshead Revisited / Mary Oliver North Country / Cheryl Strayed Tiny Beautiful Things / Aftersun (2022) dir. Charlotte Wells / Franz Wright East Boston, 1996; God's Silence
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willowser · 1 year
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bakugou watches the news while washing the dishes.
muted, because he wouldn't be able to hear the weatherman over the faucet, anyway, and his brow is furrowed in concentration — at both his hands and the forecast for next week. behind him on the stove the kettle warms and you eye it lazily, jumping back and forth from it to the way bakugou's muscles shift beneath his shirt as he scrubs.
sometimes it amazes you, the strength he's built within his body — the broad span of his shoulders as he rolls them, sleeves almost too tight for his biceps, and the rest of the material hangs loose on his body, swaying off his tiny waist as he swaps weight from one foot to the other — but you know it hasn't come easy; even now, from where you're sitting, the heavy, pink scarring on his cheek is visible when he tips his head down.
you stand quietly, shuffling across the tile of the kitchen until you're close enough to wrap your arms around him. bakugou says nothing as you press your cheek into his back, only peeking over his shoulder when you press a gentle kiss into his soft cotton tee.
"thank you for spoiling me," you murmur, nuzzling further into him when you receive only a grunt, one you feel more than hear. "the food was really good, sweetie-pea."
the silly name makes him snort and he shakes his head when you hum, amused. dinner has made you full and tired and you lean a little further into him than you maybe should, though if he minds at all, he doesn't show it. instead he just sighs, breath stuttering when you slip your hands under the loose material to gently run over his stomach. just like you, he's soft, a tummy full of food, but it's not long before his abdomen is contracting, muscles suddenly tight under your touch.
you laugh quietly into his shoulder, holding back the urge to bite him. "are you flexing, tough guy?"
"shuddup," he grumbles, shifting his weight once more. "...bein' fuckin' touchy."
at that you inch closer, now purposely much too in his space — and yet he still doesn't push you away. around his shoulder, you watch him run a soapless plate under the water for almost two minutes before his focus returns and he moves on, and then you do bite him, because you can't help it.
bakugou hisses and jerks away when your teeth sink into his bicep, flushed face made more obvious as he turns to glare down at you. before he can get a word in, you kiss him in the center of his chest, over the scars of his heart, and offer him a sweet smile.
"love you,"
his eyes dart away on instinct, embarrassed, but he's been working on his vulnerability; his lips twist once before he's pressing them into your hairline, leaning back against you in return as the kettle starts to squeal.
"drink your tea, woman," he grunts, nuzzling into you the tiniest bit before letting you free. "love you, too."
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canisalbus · 3 months
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I really appriciate how often Machete is depicted struggling and feeling like a burden, while still being loved and supported by Vasco. It gives the top tier angst of "i'm not good enough, I'm not worth it" but you frame it in such a way where it's clear that's just how he *feels* and is not how things really are, but also it's so nice to see someone who struggles quite often in a loving and unique relationship that suits them. The narrative of not being able to love or be loved unless you're consistently healthy is really tiring lol.
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