#End quote

[washingtonwhitemarkiplier]

IS THAT THE BEST YOU'VE GOT?!

[rafrfr]

leaving this here because i love him

[muffinlance]

Toddler, protesting that he has been baby-gated into his bedroom after wandering the halls shouting at bedtime: TAKE DOWN THE GATE, THIS IS NOT PART OF LIFE

[moondrifterr]

he would so kill me and i am so here for it

close-up on his scary face :)

[antichristual]

I Deserve It, Don’t I? —

ෆ

Johnny began to kiss down his neck, lovingly, gently. No malice between his lips, no teeth coming out to nip. It was simple, adoring intimacy, and it made Simon’s skin burn. The type of burn that trickled down his throat when he got from shooting alcohol in lonely bars. It was a familiar, knowable feeling, but still it hurt with how addictive it was. He knew what the sensation came from, he knew what it meant. Simon hated it; he chased it.

As he sat back against the bed head, he tried to ignore the little voice in the back of his mind that whimpered about how terrifying this was. To be so open with someone else, so pliant and available. He blinked as he stared up at the ceiling, suppressing how his eyes fluttered with each warm puff of Johnny’s breath against his throat; and how it made his heavy hands grasp at his old sheets a little bit. The rise and fall of his chest stuttered with a devilish anticipation, faltering helplessly when a smaller, but equally as strong palm cradled the curve of his rib cage. Supporting him like he needed it. How he needed it.

A shitty apartment flat that had been left to gather dust while Soap was away on duty, now was home to a little sparkler in the midst of creamy-grey walls. A crackling burst of gradients; pink, blue, purple, yellow, orange. Bleeding outwards on the canvas of John’s bedspread, staining with a liminal permanence. Simon felt a tingle of sickness in his gut when he realised changing the sheets wouldn’t wash the experience out of the room. It wouldn’t change how he splayed open like a morning flower in the sunshine that it had been waiting in darkness forever for. Before Johnny. Knees knocked around his waist, almost hesitantly.

He was allowed to feel this way. Simon was allowed to feel love like this. Deserving, deserved. Not in the way he believed that evil people deserved discomfort— but in the way hurt people deserved partiality. Though, despite his doubt that what he was doing was entirely ethical for the dark part of his brain, he felt safe. The tingle of stubble on his own jawline brought him a security that he’d thought previously would be dangerous to embrace. For the first time in a long time, Simon felt as though he was real. He was in the forefront of his head, in control, but still letting it be.

Tell Ghost two weeks ago that he was doing this, he’d have felt the unadorned urge to shank you. Remind Simon, now, that a man was pouting against his jugular, and he’d sigh in admittance.

[motherdom]

Tomura Shigaraki

[duck-woamn]

My first theatre show has happened today. I actually think we did pretty good! Especially for a show with 3 different grades and different acting levels!

[ghost-bard]

Me when guideau is an unreliable narrator lmao

[kayzero]

being introduced to media through a mutual gushing over a line that “rewrote their whole brain chemistry”

[ribbonpinky-art]

listen up, i got tarantula as an amazing option for unnamed JSDLJJFAFK thank u dharvy

[trollblivion-ooc]

Akrine is a lesboy btw

[kissing-by-the-sea]

i love lesbians who look like this: 🤓

[yellow-yarrow]

fallout 2 isnt even that good. i mean its so unnecessary edgy and horny

[lonely-darksun]

so my dad has a habit of calling me "Stu" or "Billie Bob" when I'm wearing masc-ish outfits, and hes talked about how "being a guy isn't my end goal, right?" and it's like. my bro. my guy. you asked me if I wanted to be a guy in the middle of Costco or before I was about to go to class. OF COURSE IM DEFLECTING THAT

Me, wearing a mask presenting outfit, in the middle of Costco, not wanting to come out to my kinda transphobic father several months ago: *ignoring what my dad is saying for the most part*

My dad a middle aged man, in THE COSTCO CHECK OUT LINE: So do you want to be a boy or something? I'm serious.

Me, immediatly panicking and blushing, not ready to come out as a trans masc:

[oldfacesnewdawnoffical]

I think I've told you before but you made me give my cats crowns to wear during gatherings

>:3c it’s my personal agenda

@cryptidclaw and @fatal-rewrites-warriors are next >:333c

[agenderanarchy]

i’m rambling and it’s late rn but hear me out. i have a bimbo lumberjack having allergies and huge sneezes stuck in my head and and and