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[silvermoon424]

Another banger from the "we can always tell" crowd 💀

(for those who don't get it: the picture is of MatPat, a cis man)

[sparrowsfallingfromthesky]

[misersdream]

paldea pokemon league

[cowboy-heart]

'BUTCH MANIFESTO'

inspired by 'FEMME SHARK MANIFESTO' by Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha

(ID under cut)

Ko-Fi (Commissions Open!)

[ID: an original poem titled 'BUTCH MANIFESTO'. the stanzas are all on the left side of the page and lineated, except for the first line, and last stanza. Poem begins:

Listen up! Butches hold it down! We don’t spend hundreds of pounds on designer clothes and black and white tuxes – we shop off the charity shop rack, hand-me-downs from our bois, our men, our women. Butch is not a glamour word - Butch is not for the white collars in their 9-5 and their office parties, Butch is not for the woman in a police uniform with short cropped hair, Butch is not for the masc who looks down on our femmes, Butch is not for the dumbass white people who call themselves stud, like our people haven’t taken enough from black lesbians, Butch is not for the politician or the soldier, it’s for those of us who get shit done and don’t throw anyone under the bus; who stand between our loved ones and the white-knuckled fist; it’s for the people who take a breath of relief when they get home and get to lay their head on the shoulder of their baby and say, it’s hard, and I need you right now; it’s for those of us with hard-soled feet, worn by hours of standing, just so people can buy some useless shit on a Sunday. Butch is for the primary school teachers, the neighbour keeping your package safe, the hairstylist, the barber, the youth worker, the locked up, the sectioned, the evicted, the boy on the dole. Butches hold each other up, Butches stand up for communities, no matter how different we might be.

Butches stand up for Butches, because only we know the shit we face, we don’t argue over what butch looks like for someone - their struggle doesn’t counteract ours. We’re brothers, sisters, siblings, lovers, mentors, we don’t fight over femmes or fight each other. We help up our siblings who can’t hold themselves up and shouldn’t have to.

Butch is recognising our hurt, our pain, and making sure nobody has to go through that, in the very least not alone. Butch is not reproducing that hurt, butch isn’t the transfem exclusion, the toxicity, it’s driving our girls and boys to the abortion clinic, it’s holding your femme’s hair back over the toilet bowl, it’s telling your darlin’ to take a deep breath, before you poke the needle into her thigh, it’s holding back on punching the catcaller because you know it’ll put your lover in more danger, it’s fishing in your closet for an old, dusty dress for your questioning girl, it’s never calling the cops, it’s carrying the Narcan, it’s gathering the funds for bail, it’s tipping the waiter, it’s kissing the bruised chin of a fellow butch who’s built like a brick shithouse.

Butch is not all muscle, able-bodied, white Butch is not all skinny and androgynous Butch is care Butch is NURTURE. Butch is a cane and an unsteady step Butch is putting down the ramp Butch is wheeling up it Butch is addict Butch is straight-edge Butch is diaspora Butch is desi Butch is antiracist Butch is socialist Butch is punk Butch is black Butch is brown Butch is fat Butch is fat-loving Butch is mental illness Butch is antipsych Butch is autism Butch is trans Butch is anger Butch is tears Butch is grief Butch is the old bull Butch is the closeted kid in a dress Butch is the baby dyke wearing a rainbow flag cape Butch is smile lines Butch is crinkled eyes Butch is crying in your friend’s beat-up car Butch is foetal position Butch is pink Butch is motherhood Butch is fatherhood Butch is cat-dad Butch is fucking Butch is getting fucked Butch is stone Butch is bashful Butch is humble Butch is cocky Butch is proud Butch is single Butch is uneducated Butch is poet Butch is poetry Butch is council estate Butch is gentleness Butch is bones and spit and the soft curve of our lower backs the clenched jaw under a double chin the hard-eyes that any femme can see right through the estradiol the testosterone the carabiner clink the thick hands the cellulite the bloody pads the tampon string the mood swings the sagging tits the top surgery scars the swinging cock the hairy pussy the protruding t-dick the leather harness.

Butch is eternity Butch is sewn into the fabric of atoms Butch is love and solidarity Butch is never leaving anyone behind and never selling anyone out.

End poem. In the bottom right corner, the poet is signed as 'Ren H.' End ID].

[bowlingwithplanets]

After the Titan’s Curse, Artemis presents a gray stripe in her hair to match Annabeth and Percy whenever she sees them. She has great respect for the two of them after the Titan’s Curse. So whenever she sees them she has the gray stripe to represent their shared burden of holding up the sky.

[justmeandmythoughtts]

Y después de esto, qué?

[ghostboneswrites2]

“The fuck’s so funny, little girl?”

“My Boyfriend’s Gonna Kill You.”

Summary: A group of men takes you captive while out checking traps, assuming you’re an easy target.

Daryl Dixon x fem!reader

Warnings: profanity, violence, TWD things

Both traps you had checked so far were empty, but you still had at least six more to check. Daryl was supposed to leave a few minutes after you and catch up later, so you knew he’d be popping up any minute now.

Rather than waiting around for him to show up, you just kept on to the next trap, and the next. After some time you heard footsteps, but they were too regular to be a walker, so you just assumed it was Daryl and shrugged it off. He typically made sure to step heavily so not to sneak up on you.

….

Everything was hazy for a while. Incoherent voices that sounded too far away, blurs of shadows and lights all around you.

It took a while for the dog to clear in your mind but you eventually realized you were bound to a chair, and there was some kind of cloth over your eyes. The longer you concentrated on waking yo, the clearer the circumstances became. You only remembered hearing footsteps, nothing after. So, those footsteps had to be responsible for tying you up, right?

“Hello?” You called out. Some shuffling took place around you before the cloth was torn from your eyes. Around you stood three men, all probably in their late twenties. You could tell you were in some kind of camper or RV.

“Hello.” One of them smirked.

“Where the fuck am I?” You demanded.

“You’re with us now.” Another one snickered as he glanced around to his buddies, searching their faces for approval. Great, you thought. A group of douches.

“Where. The. Fuck. Am. I?” You asked again, this time slower, as if speaking to a child.

“How about you shut up and let us do the talking, yeah?” The third one snapped. The other two seemed to straighten up at the sound of his voice. He must have been the leader.

“How about you let me go and I forget this ever happened?” You countered.

The presumable leader pulled a knife to your throat in the blink of an eye. You pressed your body against the back of the chair, gulping against the blade as he glared down at you.

“I could always cut your tongue out if you can’t learn to shut up.” He threatened. With a tightly clenched jaw, your confidence faltered. You didn’t really see another option but to obey them, at least until you figured a way out. “What do you say, huh? Can we play nice?”

You sighed and nodded once in compliance. He let the blade drop back down to his side. You say forward again, exhaling with relief.

“Good.” He smirked at you. Your stomach churned in disgust. “Now,” he began, turning to his two goons. “You made sure nobody followed her?”

“We watched her for a while. Nobody was with her.” They explained.

That was when the lightbulb went off over your head. Followed. That’s right, Daryl would have been following your tracks. And when he didn’t find you, he’d surely find the signs of your kidnapping. Somehow, this made you laugh. Suddenly all your fears had melted away. It reminded you of a time at the Greene farm, when Daryl almost beat a lone wanderer to death for trying to corner you. If cornering you was enough to trigger that, then surely the men who kidnapped you were in for a sorry fate.

“The fuck’s so funny, little girl?” The leader asked, pointing his knife at you.

This only made you laugh harder, as their clueless faces contorted with uneasiness as the girl they just kidnapped somehow found humor in the situation. They glanced between each other and back at you.

“I said what’s so funny!” He repeated, this time poorly masking his nerves for anger.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” You said breathlessly, shaking your head as you tried to calm those remaining giggles. “It’s just that… My boyfriend’s gonna kill you.”

The boys were taken aback as they registered your words.

“Boyfriend?” The leader turned to the other two with scorching eyes.

“We didn’t see anyone.” They insisted. He looked back at you. You shrugged.

“He left after I did. He was following my tracks.” You said proudly. “Which means, he’ll see your tracks sneaking up on me, and dragging me away.”

They grew more anxious by the second. Just as they started to form a plan to watch out for your boyfriend, the door to the small camper flew in. The three kidnappers all scrambled for a moment as a looming figure stood in the doorway, casting a menacing shadow over the room thanks to the afternoon sun pouring in behind him.

Your heart fluttered a little. The situation was tense and dangerous, of course, but you couldn’t deny the feelings that crept in on you when Daryl’s broad figure appeared with a heavenly glow.

The leader was the first of them to try and rush Daryl, an attack which Daryl easily defended himself from. As the guy swung his knife frantically, Daryl managed to pretend to stab forward with one hand, while successfully stabbing the man in the torso with the other hand.

You were growing antsy in your bindings, bouncing your body to help work through the restlessness. Daryl took the man to the ground and landed a few more stabs in all over their leader’s body. You glanced over toward the two goons — who were onlooking in horror — and smirked a little as you mouthed; “Told ya.”

When Daryl had finally finished with the first one, he stood back up to his feet and turned his attentions toward the other two, attempting to cower behind each other. Daryl was a large man, and somehow he always seemed even broader when he was worked up. If you had been those men in that moment, you probably would have shit your pants.

Daryl’s eyes were dark and expressive as he eyed them, taking slow steps toward them with a knife in each hand.

“Please, no. We didn’t — we just do what he tells us, man — we—“

They began to plead for their life, one dropping to his knees and outright groveling once Daryl came face-to-face with them.

In one swift motion, he stabbed outward with both blades. The one on his right directly pieced the groveling man’s temple, ending his life immediately. The left knife plunged into the side of the other guy’s torso, as he was standing.

Daryl looked into his eyes for a moment. They were wide and full of fear and pain. For a split second, Daryl felt a twinge of sympathy. It was gone the moment he remembered what he had done, though. A rage washed over him. The idea that some men found you in a forest and thought you were free game. He clenched his jaw and shoved the knife in deeper. The man squeaked in agony, unable to even scream.

You didn’t even expect the brutality of his next move. In a sawing motion, Daryl sliced open the man’s abdomen. Intestines immediately began to flop out, squelching as the poor brute tried to catch them and stuff them back in.

Blood poured out of his mouth as he fell down on his knees. He dropped his head, staring down at his handfuls of organs that slipped out of him, before he fell face first on the ground with a thud.

It was silent as you and Daryl both took in the scene of destruction around you. Then, he hurried over to untie you. You massaged your wrists where the rope had rubbed you raw.

As you were leaving the camper, he finally spoke; “Boyfriend, huh?”

“Oh, you heard that?” You blushed. You two hadn’t really had a conversation about exclusivity or titles, but you regularly spent time together and showed physical affection on occasion.

“Uh-huh.” He smirked. With a bright blush on your cheeks you shook your head and looked down as you walked beside him. He didn’t have any words of comfort or affirmation, but he did lace his fingers in yours and hold you close all the way home.

[secondwheel]

Who else agrees? A similar post for the programming languages

[catmiahcatalina]

What would an erotic vacation look like for you?

[devdas5z]

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[90sd0ll]

Mötley Crüe - 💋

[silvermoon424]

It's so fucking funny how many people who owned Furbies as children ended up being traumatized by them in some way

[sparrowsfallingfromthesky]

me: yeah I'm pretty close to finishing this fic

the fic:

[misersdream]

poppy is standing on a box ok

[cowboy-heart]

'The Femme ABCs'

made for a beloved friend (inspired by 'The Alpha-Butch Song' by Lesléa Newman) :)

(ID in read more!)

[ID: an original poem titled 'The Femme ABCs':

aggressive femme, always vigilant, black femme, ever so radiant.

charismatic femme, knows how to make them swoon, dorky femme, who laughs like a baboon.

ego femme, who knows his worth, funtime femme, all about the girth.

greying femme, showing off dazzling greys, hard-eyed femme, tattooed and hard to phase.

idiosyncratic femme, wearing every colour and pattern that exists, juvenile femme, never been kissed.

knightly femme, chivalrous and full of heart, loverboy femme, them and their sweetheart never part.

mister femme, dapper in a suit and tie, nervous femme, too shy to say hi.

old-school femme, a lifeline revered by others, pillow princess femme, a home to their lovers.

queen femme, a top who knows how to please, really fat femme, has everyone on their knees.

sisterly femme, preferring to kiss femme dolls, trans femme, fills the place with love and soul.

ubiquitous femme, patching up the wounds and bringing the meals, valentine femme, always donning pink and heels.

witty femme, full of brain and remarks, x-ray femme, knows how to make a butch spark.

yearning femme, lipstick marks on every letter, zany femme, his silly nature makes everyone feel better.

now I know my ABCs, which femme will be friends with me?

Poem ends. at the bottom, it is signed by the poet as 'Ren H.' end ID]