#HURT PPL HURT PPL

[rvspecter]

Didn't wanna spam op with reblogs so I'm taking this here but. Yeah. Oh my god. What's crazy too is that it doesn't even feel like a leverage thing, where he's trying to boost himself for paying her more or being generous enough to pay out of pocket, but he tells her literally just to make Louis look worse and weak and cowardly.

This kind of information is so huge actually that I can't even imagine it going that well even if he told her under better circumstances. Like it would have been an awfully awkward conversation to begin with. But at least he would have been able to emphasize more that he appreciates her work so much instead of throwing it in her face because he's bitter and jealous!!

YESSSSSSSSSSSS!! u can totally tell from the way he says it that he’s deliberately trying to hurt her. he showed up there just to make her feel guilty over siding with louis. but it has less to do with louis and more to do with hurting her back cause he thinks she hurt him first

OH OH AND I FORGOT TO MENTION HOW MUCH I LOVED THAT SHE SHUT HIM DOWN like she knew he was trying to guilt trip her and she shut him down yessss

[inkskinned]

she's singing in another room and my dog is asleep at my feet. my grandma asked me why i haven't found a man yet and i laughed. oh, you know. i like my house clean.

my girlfriend is also my man is also "my partner" if i'm in a professional setting. yesterday we went to a ren faire and a man mimed at me - you're together? and at my delighted nod, his baffled, you're gay? made me laugh. a woman with rainbow hair said i love the two of you together. you're both so beautiful it's absurd.

my dad introduced my partner as my "..... friend. or whatever" the other day. he knows we're dating. in the same way, i was never able to get my sister's husband to stop saying that's gay like it's 2008. he still uses the word fa***t, and my sister's defense of him has always been well, he's just kidding.

my lover and i dance to old music in a tiny kitchen. we judge new music together and take food critique very seriously. we watch love is blind before we fall asleep and agree that if they had a queer season, it would be bloody but also make for excellent tv. of fucking course queer people would know someone for only 2 weeks and agree to get married. what are you saying.

at a bar with friends, a man puts his hand on my wrist. got a boyfriend? and yes, i do have a boyfriend, she's amazing. i am texting her while i wander around a gas station named after geese. i am visiting a swing state for a wedding. in the candy aisle i overhear: she's actually like a lesbian it's disgusting. two teenage girls with packaged sandwiches in their hands, giggling. no literally, like. i'm not, like. okay with her being there while we're all, like, naked and changing.

my girlfriend and i tailgate, drink gin and cider out of cups. from the frat group beside us, a man corrects himself with one of his friends: bro, i mean, nonbinary entity, and it makes everyone around him laugh, myself included. he razzes his friend the same way i would have killed for at 19 years old - like nothing happened, he continues: you apply sunscreen like an alien. he does a little sassy (and fairly accurate) dance interpretation of the motion. his friend is laughing so hard they're crying.

i am lucky, i live in a safe neighborhood in a safe state. my masc passenger princess comes up from DC. i drive her for an hour to where all the leaves are a violent arrangement of color. we walk along the trails, letting autumn into our blood. in this part of the state, there's a lot of pickup trucks and trump signs. when we chastely kiss before getting into the car, i accidentally make eye contact with a woman holding her child's wrist. she looks disgusted. she looks fucking pissed.

two hours later my girl and i are eating dinner on a patio, soaking in the last warmth of new england sun before the chill of winter sets in. we are giggling and trying to talk through plastic vampire teeth. at another table, i see a young woman sit up straighter. i watch her watch us. she blushes and takes her partner's hand from across the table. shy, like the taste of evening has just become something deeper.

it's worth it for this moment, i think. my lover is still humming the same song she's been singing for four days straight and i don't want to kill her for it. her guitar is beside my bed. her toothbrush is in my bathroom. in a few moments i will make us lunch. we are lucky enough to have found each other. it is lucky enough to be in love.

[chloeworships]

I hope this message helps us heal from the terrible experiences some people have put us through…

[virtualplushy]

one important thing that Must be understood about interpersonal relationships is that you have to stop interacting with people who love you like they’re one slip-up away from leaving you. you have to trust that the ppl you love mean what they say. you have to believe that when they say “this hurt my feelings,” that they’re also saying, “can you please love me this other way next time?” and you have to wrap your head around the fact that even if you don’t understand Why someone loves you, you can accept that that they do. true, honest, & open love does not function like hp in a video game !!!!!!

[threadbareturnbacks]

You know what? Happy Disability Month to those who were disabled by accident. Cars, skis, ice, sand, rocks, horses, just plain bad luck. Broken bones and backs that never heal. Shoulders that can't lift or move right. Wrists that don't turn. Hands that can't grasp. Brains that don't work right anymore. Legs that don't move anymore and eyes that won't recover.

The shame, the blame, the frustration, the wishful thinking that tears you apart. The beauty of small victories and simple kindness. The community you build. Reshaping a life with no warning. Mourning for the person you once were. Joyfully embracing the person you now are. Happy Disability Month to you too (even if you aren't ready to use that word yet)

[hanmegumi]

LMAO

edit: turning off reblogs because some of the people that are reblogging are extremely fucking moronic. holy shit

[nanakorobiyaokii]

ᴡʙᴋ 152 | ꜱᴀᴋᴜʀᴀ ʜᴀʀᴜᴋᴀ

[scealaiscoite]

⋆˚࿔ actions and dialogue for forbidden kisses 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

¹⁾ “… that shouldn’t have happened.”

²⁾ holding onto their shoulders/waist for the duration of the kiss, and making no move to separate even after it’s ended

³⁾ “stop telling me that we can’t be together and then pulling shit like this!”

⁴⁾ “[name], i’m sorry.”

⁵⁾ pressing the pads of their fingers into their lips in the aftermath, like they’re either trying to capture the feeling or banish it from memory

⁶⁾ foreheads pressed together as the kiss breaks, eyes guilty but so so full of want

⁷⁾ “this can’t be all there is. a half-dozen kisses every year that we pretend don’t happen and pretentious conversations about ourselves, is that what we’re clinging so hard to? what i’m clinging so hard to?!”

⁸⁾ having begun to trail impassioned kisses down their jaw and neck before the harsh reality kicks back in

⁹⁾ “i shouldn’t have let this happen. it’s not fair on either of us.”

¹⁰⁾ “we sh- “ “no, please. just- just let me have this. just for a minute.”

¹¹⁾ breathing in their scent because they know that this is as close as they’ll get to it for a long, long time

¹²⁾ “why are we doing this to ourselves?”

¹³⁾ using every ounce of strength they have to not lean into the hand cupping their cheek or cradling their head

¹⁴⁾ “that was an accident.” “yeah, you always seem to say that.”

¹⁵⁾ “no matter how cruel it is that you keep giving me hope like this, it’s still never enough to stop me from loving you as much as i do.”

¹⁶⁾ “i don’t want to let go of you.” “and i don’t want to let you.”

¹⁷⁾ feeling tears welling up in their eyes as the hurt and longing burns in their chest

¹⁸⁾ holding the face of their would-be lover tenderly in the palm of their hand, silently apologising for putting them both through this again

¹⁹⁾ “i love y- “ “no, no. please, i can’t. i can’t hear this, not again.”

²⁰⁾ breaking the kiss but still holding them close, hiding their face in the other’s neck to try and recover the moment

²¹⁾ “would now be a bad time to tell you you’re a really good kisser?”

²²⁾ calling them a petname to try and comfort them, but only succeeding in upsetting them more at the reminder of what they can’t have

²³⁾ pushing them away, knowing exactly how cruel it is but favouring it over hurting them both by letting things go further

²⁴⁾ “how do we keep letting this happen?”

²⁵⁾ “this is killing me, [name].”

[hinamie]

色彩 [Shikisai]

[morningstarwrites]

some expressions from the show!

[inkskinned]

what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?

i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?

a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?

in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.

girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.

there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.

for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.

something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.

is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.

most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."

a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.

[grandwretch]

i so badly want one of those fic examinations of steve's relationship with joyce and hopper but solely through eddie's pov like hear me out

steve and eddie chat a lot in the upside down (and later in the hospital, when they learn hop is alive). steve has taken charge of filling eddie in on the rest of their of-age crew without the kids butting in. he never mentions his own parents, but he talks about the rest of the party's a lot, especially joyce and hopper. eddie knows what it's like to desperately want someone to be your parent and trying to hide it from his own childhood, when he would try to be cool about wayne dropping him off at his dad's house. steve obviously adores joyce and hopper, thinks the world of them and legitimately looks up to them.

eddie isn't sure what he expects from a cop who came back to life and the world's most determined housewife, but he's excited to meet them as someone steve loves.

cue eddie's horror when he realizes that neither of them really feel much for steve rather than annoyance and vague distrust. that joyce trusts will with eddie, an accused murderer, in a heartbeat and still hesitates to leave him with steve. that hopper brushes off every ounce of steve's hero worship and joy.

he tries to broach the topic with steve, gently, and is heartbroken when steve genuinely has no idea what he's talking about. and not because he's oblivious, but because steve thinks that's what he deserves. he thinks that's the parental love that someone who was an asshole in high school needs, because that's what would make him a good person. he needs people to call him out constantly, obviously, because why else would they keep doing it? why would nancy? at least they're here. at least they're not ignoring him. at least they're not forcing him into a box. they just want him to be better.

like, this is the man who thanked a girl for calling him bullshit and telling him she never loved him. he doesn't Know that's not how you're supposed to handle things. no one ever taught him that.

and now eddie's gotta figure out how he can teach steve how to be loved the right way without outing himself and his huge crush on his love-starved dork of a friend.

[rebellum]

Fellow trans people I'm begging you to remember that being trans isn't the Only Oppression Ever. Racism exists. (I'm looking at you, white trans people!!!) Being white gives you privilege. Being perisex gives you privilege. Being able bodied gives you privilege. Being a citizen of your country gives you privilege. Living in a developed/first world country gives you privilege. Being a settler gives you privilege. Not having an intellectual disability gives you privilege. Not being severely mentally ill gives you privilege. Being housed gives you privilege. Having internet access gives you privilege. Speaking the dominant language of your area gives you privilege. Not living with addiction gives you privilege.

You are not the most oppressed person ever on earth, white able bodied perisex trans person. Even with being trans, if you're eg from America, canada, western Europe, or Australia, you absolutely have way more political power than eg some cis het indigenous man in rural Brazil.

[devilyn]

stay by my side | tsukishima kei

— now playing: die with a smile by bruno mars & lady gaga

If the world was ending I'd wanna be next to you If the party was over And our time on Earth was through I'd wanna hold you just for a while And die with a smile

— synopsis: getting tsukishima kei to say 'I love you' more often is harder than you'd think

— genre: only a tinge of hurt, more comfort, needy tsukki

— word count: 1k

The first thing he sees every morning is you. The last thing he sees before he closes his eyes for the night is always you.

No matter what may be happening between the two of you, the reassurance of knowing you'd be there in the morning and at the end of the day always calmed his tumultuous heart. 

So when he opens his eyes in the middle of the night and you're not there, he jolts up in a panic.

His hand quickly skims across your side of the bed, briefly wondering if he may be delirious in his half-asleep state. When he notices the sheets are still warm, he grabs his glasses and slips out of bed in a hurry.

The kitchen, the bathroom, and the living room are empty. When he finally stops to catch his breath, he notices your keys aren't hanging by the front door, an indication that you've left the apartment.

The realization makes his heart stop.

He should've apologized earlier. He should've known you'd get sick of him. You were always so patient with him, letting him keep you at arm's length for the first year of your relationship while he got used to skinship and physical affection. You even dealt with his mood swings, and communicated openly with him as much as possible so he could understand your perspective when the two of you fought.

And yet, he reversed all that progress last night when he ignored your feelings.

How can he expect you to read between the lines all the time? He had previously promised you he wouldn't treat you like that again, and yet he took advantage of your endless patience and did it again.

“Kei?”

His head turns quickly, wide eyes meeting your surprised gaze. You're standing against the front of your apartment building in your pajamas. He's certain he looks even more disheveled, having just rolled out of bed in a panic.

“What're you doing out of bed?” He asks quickly, stepping over to stand in front of you.

Your gaze softens, and his uneasy heart finally finds a moment to relax at the sight of you right in front of him.

“Just needed some fresh air, couldn't sleep,” you say softly. There's a moment of silence between the two of you before you reach up and gently brush your fingers over his jaw.

He can't help but close his eyes and relax into your touch. He let's himself indulge in the moment further, his own hand resting on top of your own to keep your palm against his cheek. 

“I don't want to.”

“Kei, please,” you pleaded, “I just want an ‘I love you' every once in a while. I'm not asking you to profess your love to me everyday.”

“I don't think it's needed. You know I do, why do I need to say it too?” He grumbled, setting his glasses down on the bedside table. 

“Hearing you say it and convincing myself that your actions mean something are two different things,” you retorted, and you frowned at the way he rolled his eyes.

The two of you have been arguing over the same thing ever since you brought it up at the dinner table just a couple of hours ago.

“Don't be stupid,” he finally snapped, and he ignored the hurt that flashed through your eyes. “Just go to bed. I'm sick of having this talk with you.”

He turned his back towards you, but he still heard your shaky ‘okay, goodnight’.

“What're you doing out here?” you repeat his question, tilting your head curiously. 

He hesitates to answer, eyes still closed as if doing so could buy him more time.

He's sure you saw the panic in his eyes when he heard you call his name. In truth, he wasn't entirely sure why he panicked so much. The thought of you not next to him sent a coldness down his spine that he just couldn't live with. 

“...came to find you,” he finally answers, amber eyes opening to meet your gaze.

The hand on his cheek slides up to gently run through his tousled blonde bed head.

“I'm not going anywhere,” you whisper softly.

His heart skips a beat, and he can't help it anymore. His arms reach out to wrap around your waist, tugging you close so he can bury his face in the crook of your neck.

You saw right through him, reading him like a book.

“I thought you left me,” he admits, voice shaking. One of your hands rests gently on the back of his head, the other lightly running up and down his broad back.

“Where would I go?” you try to joke, “my home is right here with you, Kei.” 

You squashed his insecurities almost instantly with just a couple of words. Your ability to ease all his worries so seemingly easily always amazed him. 

“I love you,” he confesses suddenly, and he feels the way your frame shakes as you laugh quietly. 

He wants to provide that same comfort and sense of stability you give him. If saying ‘I love you’ more often was what you needed to feel that, then he'd do it.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers quietly after his confession. When he pulls back slightly to scan your expression, you're staring up at him with that look in your eyes. That look that tells him--’I love you more than I can even express’. 

Your fingers reach up to cup both his cheeks, tugging him down so you can kiss him gently.

“I love you too,” you decide to settle with those four words, and he rests his forehead against yours.

“Don't leave me,” he murmurs.

“I'm not leaving you,” you promise.

“Stay with me,” he quietly requests.

“I will, I'm not leaving you,” you reassure him again, and there's a hint of a smile on your lips. “Though, I sort of like seeing you this vulnerable.”

He rolls his eyes and makes a move to pull away from you. You catch him with a laugh, arms wrapping around his waist.

“...I'll tell you I love you more often,” he admits defeat almost begrudgingly, and you smile up at him.

“Okay,” you whisper, “Thank you.”

“Can we go back to bed now?” 

He slips his hand into yours, and the way your fingers instinctively lace with his own melts his heart.

“Yeah, let's go home.”

[telekitnetic-art]

slightly late to this but happy Indigenous People’s Day!! I already made a whole thread of my formline art on Twitter, so instead I just wanted to share some of my favourite formline artwork I’ve made so far here!!

[pcktknife]

zoroark pokedex entries